“Follow the Harley. We know where Milton is going,” Will replied as Tootch grappled with his seatbelt. Once he was buckled, he reached for the beer on the floor between his legs.
“No drinking in my truck!” Tootch looked at me with wide eyes. “I’m serious, man. If I get pulled over with open alcohol in my truck, I’ll be in jail before you can say ‘White cops love to hassle Indians.’”
“I told you that was for once we got back to the ranch. Stop being a moron!” Will snarled at our pudgy cohort in crime.
“Sorry. I didn’t know the cops would hassle you for a can of beer,” Tootch replied, his hand leaving the six pack.
“Dude, seriously?” Will asked Tootch who shrugged.
“White cops will hassle me for breathing,” I stated matter-of-factly as we eased out of the parking lot to trail Chip Tooth Dude and his sister. Or that was the assumption that I had made. They all looked related. Could be a cousin of the Great Bear twins. Not that it mattered. “We should call Loren about this.”
That idea was shot down immediately. Neither Will nor Tootch wanted anything to do with the police no matter the officer’s skin tone. I gave up arguing about ten miles down the road. I’d talk Will into doing the right thing after we pinned down where Chip Tooth lived. When we were alone, and he didn’t have to play big macho man for Tootch. Yeah, that would work. Will listened to me. He and I were close now. Lovers. He’d take what I had to say into consideration and make the right decision. Against my better judgment, we began tailing Milton’s twin brother from a discreet distance. We rode out from Elk Corner at a leisurely pace, the chopper eating up the miles as we tried to look inconspicuous.
We followed the bike as it made a slow left onto a dirt driveway attached to an old farmhouse. There was a cool looking older car—from the 70s by the looks—painted black and orange that grabbed my eye for a moment. Will hurried to make a note of the address on his phone. The couple didn’t kiss as lovers would, but the woman with the long black hair did kiss Chip Tooth Great Bear on the cheek then waved goodbye. We drove past then pulled into the parking lot of an ice cream shop. The roar of the Harley flying by turned the heads of the families enjoying their cones. We moved out of the lot at a crawl then resumed the tail. He led us on a merry chase, as I’d heard somewhere, finally easing off a narrow two-lane into what could only be called a deer path. We rolled past the “driveway” then pulled to the side of the road about a hundred feet ahead. Cutting the engine, we could still hear that Harley.
“We go on foot,” Will announced, elbowing Tootch to get him moving. Tootch’s worried expression mirrored my own feelings, but we did as Will said. Why? No clue. We all exited the truck then hustled down the berm of the road to pick up the rutted up path Chip Tooth had taken. Cocking our heads to listen before racing in headfirst, we then moved down the path, walking along the tall grass that lay flat until we came to a rusty cattle gate that was locked. There were two strands of electric fence snapping sharply on some wildflowers touching the bottom strand.
“Now what?” I asked, lifting my phone over my head in search of a signal.
“We come back at night,” Will replied as he fiddled with the padlock and chain that bound the gate to a hefty fencepost. Tootch stood back a ways, chewing his lower lip.
“And do what?” I prompted then sighed at the lack of cell service.
“Climb over the gate and get into his hideout.” Will let the chain drop, the clatter of padlock on steel gate making me wince. “Then we stakeout the joint.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We should turn all of this over to Loren,” I stated and was immediately hit with arguments against involving the cops at this juncture. I folded my arms over my chest as Will made his case. Then I shut him down. “We call Loren now or I walk.”
“Stop being such a fucking mule!” Will fired back. Tootch had fallen into silence after making one weak plea to not bring law enforcement into things. Something about his parole, which seemed to be as delicate as Will’s. And I got that. I really did, but this was getting way out of hand for three dumb ranch hands. Well, two ranch hands and a Tootch. “You know the cops aren’t going to believe Tootch’s version of what went down with him and Chip Tooth a few months ago.”
“Yeah, limits on statutes probably,” Tootch piped up.
“I doubt the statute of limitations has run out on his assault,” I replied, my sight darting to Tootch from Will. He shook his head then returned to chewing on his lip. “Loren will listen to us. He’s one of ours. Look, I get it. I really do, but stakeouts are for professionals.” Will scoffed at me. That fired me up. “Fuck you both. If I get shot by some asshole fossil thief what happens to my family? My mom and grandfather rely on my salary. I have other people to think about not just myself! This playing Starsky and Hutch shit is not cutting it!”
“Who the fuck are Starsky and Hutch?!” Will snapped, his ire climbing as well.
“Some show Kenruh watches. Couple of macho cops from the 70s. It’s pretty terrible. The point was that we’re not cops or PIs or mercenaries! You’re not Jason Bourne!”
“I met him once,” Tootch interjected. Will and I both gaped at him. “What? I did. He works at the dry cleaners in Copper Falls.”
“That’s Jackie Burnes not Jason Bourne,” I corrected then gave Will my hottest glare. “I’m done with this. As soon as we get into range, I’m handing this all over to Loren. He’ll be cool. I promise.” I spun on the heel of my moccasin then strode to my truck with purpose. I never even looked back to see if they were coming. They did. Begrudgingly.
As soon as I had a bar of service, I pulled off the road and called Loren. Turned out he was not as cool as I had assumed he would be even though he was a tribal brother. Go figure.
“Enough.”
That was all Loren had to say when we met up at his house an hour later. I glanced at Will and Tootch, both looking like they’d stepped into the flames of Hell. Maybe that was simply because they were seated inside the home of a law enforcement officer. Or maybe it was the four kids who were racing around the house screaming at the top of their lungs.
“But Tootch said this guy hit him,” I argued. Loren leveled dark brown eyes at me over a steaming cup of coffee. A cat streaked past, a little dog on its heels, four boys in hot pursuit.
“Tootch said this, Will said that, and you added your two cents. Where is the proof?” Loren enquired.
“Ask Bishop and his student who accosted them. They said it was some guy with a chipped tooth.” There. That was some sort of proof. Sort of. Maybe. Possibly a connection? Loren arched a black eyebrow.
“So now I’m supposed to ride down anyone with some dental issues? Come on, Perry, you’re smarter than this. There is no proof either that the Great Bear brothers have done anything that gives me enough concern to go question them. Sorry. Look, I know,” he said when Will began sputtering. “And I will talk with Milton and Donald, but that’s about as far as I can take it. Bishop filed a report, and his description of his assailant does not resemble Donald Great Bear. You do realize quite a few people have chipped teeth.”
We all nodded.
“Good, at least you all acknowledge that. None of the stolen goods have been linked to anyone so far. Whoever was handling these things knows exactly what they’re doing. The only fingerprints we’ve lifted have belonged to the McCrary’s and they owned more than half of the recovered goods.”