“Don’t let me interrupt you. I just came down for one of those.” Pointing at Gurney’s Grolsch, she passed through the sitting room and went into the kitchen.
Gurney made the call to Payne.
“I have an urgent question, Cory. Do you know if your father ever brought other people out to the gun club? Other than you. Other than Turlock.”
There was a short pause. “I’m pretty sure every hunting season he’d have his special people out there.”
“The people who could be useful to him. That’s the only thing that ever made anyone
“And those people were . . . who exactly?”
“DA Kline, Sheriff Cloutz, Mayor Shucker, Judge Puckett.”
“Anyone else?”
There was another short pause. “Yeah. Some rich guy. Marvin something. Obnoxious billionaire over in Lockenberry.”
“Gelter?”
“That’s it.”
“How about people in the department? Anyone ‘special’ there?”
“Obviously Turlock. Also a captain and a couple of lieutenants who did pretty much whatever he wanted them to do.”
“Like what?”
“Concocting phony cases against BDA members. Lying in court. Shit like that.”
“How do you know this?”
“Some BDA people told me. That’s the kind of stuff that Steele and Loomis were looking into . . . and Jordan and Tooker, too . . . which is obviously why they were all killed.”
“I need their names—the captain and his lieutenants.”
“Joe Beltz, Mitch Stacker, Bo Luckman.”
Gurney made a note of the names. “Do you know anyone else who might have had access to your father’s cabin?”
“I don’t know. His wife, I guess.”
“One more question. Did your father own any other real estate? Summer house, another cabin somewhere, anything like that?”
“Not that I’m aware of. But that doesn’t mean anything. My father is an iceberg. Most everything about him is below the surface. Why do you ask?”
“It’s a place he might be. Somewhere to stay out of sight. How about rentals? Leases? A place he might have used on hunting or fishing trips?”
“I don’t think he liked fishing.”
“Okay, Cory. Thanks for your help. If you think of anyone else who might have had access to his cabin, let me know.”
“Absolutely.”
Gurney ended the call.
Hardwick raised his Grolsch and took a long swallow. “That little fucker any help?”
“Yes and no. Apart from a growing list of unpleasant individuals—any one of whom could have seen where Beckert kept his cabin key—I’m not sure I know much more than I did before. I should get back to Mark Torres, see if he knows anything about Beckert’s associates.”
“Goddamn waste of time.” Hardwick punctuated his comment by putting his bottle down on the table with noticeable firmness. “Focusing on people with access to the cabin isn’t relevant to anything other than your double-framing idea—which is definitely on the batshit end of the hypothesis spectrum.”
“You may be right. But there’s no harm in asking the question.” He took a sip of his Grolsch and placed the call to Torres.
“Mark, I’m trying to get a sense of the people Beckert was close to. I was given the names of three members of the WRPD command staff—Beltz, Stacker, and Luckman. What can you tell me about them?”
Torres’s initial response was an uneasy hesitation. “Wait a second. Just making sure . . . there are no open ears nearby. Okay. I can’t really tell you much, beyond the fact that they spent a lot of time in Beckert’s office—more than most of the guys who report to him. Maybe it’s my imagination, but they’ve been looking pretty nervous since he disappeared.”
“They need to be questioned. Do you know if Kline’s gotten to them yet?”
“I don’t know. He’s not telling us much.”
“How many people does he have working on Beckert’s disappearance?”
“Actively searching for him? None, as far as I know. His priority is totally on the physical evidence side. You think that’s a mistake?”
“Frankly, yes. Beckert’s connected to everything that’s happened. And his role in the case may not be what it seems to be. Locating him could resolve some questions.”
“What do you think we should be doing?”
“Everything possible to find him. I’d like to know whether he owns any other property in this part of the state. Someplace he might go if he didn’t want to be found.”
“We could have our county clerk check for his name in the property tax rolls.”
“If you can free up a couple of uniforms, you could have them check the adjoining counties, too. They should also check the names Beauville, Turlock, and Blaze Jackson. She seems to have been involved from the beginning.”
“Okay. I’ll get someone on it.”
“Before you go, a question about the silent alarm system at the cabin. You told me there was some password protection on the list of numbers it was programmed to call.”
“Right—and computer forensics did get back to us on that. There were three cell numbers. Beckert’s, Turlock’s, and an anonymous prepaid. No way to track down that one.”
