Outlaw Mountain

“Why was he?”

“Probably as a favor to one of Mark’s drug-dealing cronies. That would be my first guess anyway.”

“So you knew about the drugs?”

“I knew about all of it,” Monica returned darkly. “I made it my business to find out. That worm thought he was just going to dump me and walk away whole, taking the contracting company and the development companies with him. He thought Sierra Vista was a small enough town that I’d just shut up, go quietly, and spare myself the humiliation. He thought I’d be too embarrassed to stand up and fight. When he found out otherwise, it must have come as a bit of a shock.”

“How did you do that?”

“Fight him?” Monica shrugged. “My attorney hired a PI to get the goods on him and his collection of heroin-sniffing honeys. And she subpoenaed all his financial records. By the time we were scheduled to go to court, Dena swore she would know more about Mark’s financial dealings than he did himself.”

Joa

Monica gave a short, mirthless laugh. “You don’t think Mark would inject the filthy stuff, do you? Into his beautiful body? None of them do. They’re all far too good-looking for that. And too upstanding. They’re all part of the country-club set. They may party like hell on Friday and Saturday, but they shape up and go to church on Sundays, attend Rotary on Tuesdays, and show up for their Chamber of Commerce meeting first thing Wednesday mornings. Needle tracks wouldn’t go over very well with the Chamber of Commerce. So they import top-quality Mexican heroin-pure stuff-and sniff it the way some people used to sniff cocaine. It look me a long line to figure out that a big chunk of our money was going straight up Mark’s nose. Call me a slow learner, but I finally wised up.”

When Monica Foster fell silent, Joa

“Can you give me names?” Joa

“I can’t,” Monica answered. “I wasn’t part of the gang. Karen Brainard was.”

“You’re saying Karen Brainard uses heroin?”

“Why don’t you ask her? In fact, I’m tempted to ask her myself. Poor baby. She and Mark were an item for a good six months. I’d guess she’s pretty broken up about now.”

“Which you’re not,” Joa

Monica Foster’s bright blue eyes hardened to flint. “No, I’m not,” she agreed. “I did my grieving a long time ago-before I filed for a divorce. Back then I kept hoping something would happen so I wouldn’t have to go through with it. Maybe Mark would die, or else I would. And now that he’s dead, I don’t feel anything but alive, goddammit! I’m alive and getting on with my life and nobody’s going to stand in my way! Which brings me back to why I came to see you this morning, Sheriff Brady. I need to know what to tell my crew. Should they come to work tomorrow morning or not?”

“As I said,” Joa

Reaching out, Monica Foster snagged a yellow Post-it pad from Joa

“What about your husband’s financial records, the ones your attorney has?” Joa

“Talk to Dena,” Monica said. “I’ll put her number down here too. Tell her I told you to see her.”

“Because of attorney-client privilege, she may not agree to talk with me,” Joa

“I don’t see why not,” Monica said. “I haven’t committed any crime, and I don’t have anything to hide. And Mark is dead, so it shouldn’t matter to him. But if she needs my permission to release the records, she can always call me and check.”

Monica pushed the notepad filled with phone numbers across the desk to Joa

“No,” Joa

She picked up the phone. “Kristin,” she said. “Have Dispatch put me through to Ernie Carpenter.”

Smiling slightly, Monica Foster settled back in her chair. It took several long minutes before Ernie Carpenter finally came on the line. “What’s up?” he asked.

“How long before you’ll be ready to release the crime scene at Oak Vista? Monica Foster, Mark Childers’ widow, is here in my office. She needs to know when her construction crew can get back to work.”

“Her again!” Ernie exclaimed. “That woman’s nothing but trouble. She was out here this morning raising hell with the deputy I left at the gate. I told her these things take time, but obviously she’s gone over my head and is raising hell with you.”

“In a ma

“All right, all right. We’re pretty much finished up now. Tell her she can have her work crew in here first thing tomorrow morning.”

“If you’re almost finished now, why does she have to wait until tomorrow?” Joa

“Well,” Ernie said. “To tell you the truth, I was hoping to hang around long enough to see if we could get another shot at those damned tree-huggers. If I were in their shoes and wanted to damage a whole bunch of construction equipment, this is exactly the time I’d show up-when no one is here working.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Joa

“What are they doing, broadcasting their scheduled stops on NPR?”

Joa

“No news there. Whoever said they were foreigners?”

“Not that kind of domestic, Ernie. As in hotly contested D-I-V-O-R-C-E I have it on good authority that the Oak Vista tree-huggers-for-hire were on Childers’ ex-wife’s payroll. Now that she’s ru

“Nice lady,” Ernie observed. “That being the case, I suppose we can release the crime scene anytime. By the way, was Lewis Flores on her payroll, too?”

“I don’t think so, but we’ll talk more about that later,” Joa

“When I leave here, Jaime and I had pla

“Sounds like a good idea,” Joa

Joa

“I can locate most of them,” Monica said, as she stood to leave. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Thank you, too,” Joa

At the mention of Karen Brainard’s name, Monica winced visibly. “Maybe I should send the bitch a sympathy card.”

There was a catch in the woman’s throat when she said the words. The sound of it was enough to make Joa