Back of Beyond

Bodean smiled bitterly. “I don’t know how you keep getting away with it.”

“I chalk it up to clean living,” Cody said. “Mind if I smoke?”

Bodean looked at the ceiling tile and took a deep breath.

Cody withdrew a packet of cigarettes from his jacket and tapped one out and lit it. He tossed the spent match on the little placard on Tubman’s desk that said NO SMOKING.

Bodean said, “So you say the Feds are putting it all together, connecting the dots. I assume you mean they’re getting evidence linking up Mina, Gannon, Jed, and maybe an outside accomplice working with Mina.”

Cody studied Bodean’s face, letting him go on, but saying nothing.

“That Rachel Mina or Chavez, or whatever,” Bodean whistled, “she must have been something. I read all of Larry’s files, the stuff he got from the San Diego PD and DEA. He traced her all over the country, to every one of those murders. She operated completely under the radar. I saw photos of her. She was a looker, but not a knockout. She must have been something,” he repeated. “A stone-cold killer who looks like the cute girl next door.”

“She knew she had to get to Yellowstone,” Cody said. “When she met that poor schmuck Ted Sullivan she planted the seed. Of course, he accommodated her. She knew a single woman on a trip like that would draw suspicion, so Ted was her cover.”

Bodean nodded. “So as far as you’re concerned, she was working with Wilson-I mean Gannon-and no one else?”

He seemed to be prying, Cody thought. He refused to play.

“When’s the funeral?” Cody asked.

“Larry?”

“Who the hell else?”

“Tomorrow. I’m surprised you didn’t get the e-mail. Wear your Class A’s.” That was department-speak for dress blues.

“I didn’t get the e-mail because I was giving statement after statement in the park,” Cody said, annoyed, “and I was still officially suspended, remember? I didn’t have fucking access to my e-mails.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Cody felt like standing up and decking him, but he fought back his rage.

“As soon as we’ve buried Larry,” Bodean said, “we’re ramping up our effort on going after his killer. Everything gets shoved aside. Finding the bastard who did it is Job One.”

“It’s about time,” Cody said, gripping the arm of the chair so hard he was surprised he didn’t leave dents in the wood.

“Jesus,” Bodean said, looking at his watch again. “Where the hell is the sheriff?”

Cody shrugged. Then he changed the subject. “Larry always used to lay things out for me in the most methodical way. It used to drive me crazy, but he wouldn’t let me rush him. He told me things his way, which was deliberate as all hell and very linear. I used to beg him to get to the bottom line but he’d never get there until he was good and ready after he had the storyline laid out.”

Bodean looked puzzled. “So?”

“So pretend I’m Larry,” Cody said, “and listen. You might want to sit down until the sheriff gets here. This won’t be as good as if Larry were telling it, but I’ll do my best.”

Bodean started to object, but bit his lip. His eyes showed concern. But he moved around the desk and sat in Tubman’s chair and leaned forward holding his hands together, fingers loosely laced.

“The assumption here with the Feds,” Cody said, “is it’s all connected, as you said. Mina, Gannon, Jed, maybe even Dakota Hill. And given that assumption, there’s the assumption Mina’s net spread farther out, that she had an accomplice on the outside. Whoever it was tried to burn me alive at Gallatin Gateway and was more successful with Larry. And that suspect is still out there.”

Bodean broke in: “I’m confident the Feds will find him with all the cooperation they’ve got. They can do a nationwide investigation. We’re limited to the county-”

“I know all that, Bodean,” Cody said impatiently. “Now please shut up and listen. We’re doing this Larry’s way.”

Bodean took a deep breath and held it, then leaned forward. “Go ahead,” he said.

“Okay. Things started to go bad for me in Townsend when I left here. I got pulled over by the local cop and spent the night there, putting me a day behind I’ll never get back. Who knows how many lives might have been saved if I’d been able to get into Yellowstone and break up the pack trip before they left? I will always be haunted by that.

“It seemed odd to be picked up like I was,” he said. “I thought at the time the local cop might have received a tip of some kind, likely anonymous, to watch for my car. That’s when I first got the inkling maybe Larry was playing a double game with me. That for some reason-maybe for my own damned good-Larry wanted to slow me down. Save me from doing something stupid.”

Bodean nodded for him to continue.