Ch. 10: Explorations

"Walt!"

Vic's voice cut through the sleep that clouded his brain. Walt's eyes opened. He instantly recognized the tone of her voice. Walt pushed off the blanket and was on his feet with surprising speed considering the hour. Chalk that up to his recent retirement and fact that getting up in the middle of the night had been something he did frequently when working.

He found her standing with a sheet of paper in her hands. It took Walt a few seconds to process what he was seeing. His eyes ran over Vic. She was clearly fine physically. But, there was something in her expression that sent a jolt of worry through her. It was then that he noticed that she was wearing gloves.

Vic had looked his way when he came from the bedroom. Her expression was a mix of worry and…fear. That was his first instinct. There was something else. Something that he categorized as anger.

"What's wrong?"

His mind was clearing as Vic walked over to him.

"This…"

She held up the note.

"…was slipped under the door."

Now he was completely awake.

"What?"

Walt could hear the disbelief in his own words. Not at her, but at what she'd just said.

"Someone slipped it under the door."

"You're sure?"

He didn't mean to doubt what she was telling him. Vic gave him a sharp look.

"Yes. It was here on the floor."

"Did you hear something?"

Vic shook her head.

"No. I couldn't sleep. I just came in here to…I don't know…try and clear my head. I saw it. It has your name on it but…"

Vic's voice faltered a bit. Her face registered confusion.

"But what?"

"There's nothing on the actual note. It's blank."

He studied the sheet of paper that she was holding. He made no move to touch it as it was evidence.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"What does?"

There was an incredulousness in Vic's voice. She looked to be waffling between scared and mad.

He was in motion then, walking back into the bedroom and pulling on clothes. Vic appeared behind him with a curious look.

"What are you doing?"

"Going outside to have a look around."

He grabbed and checked his Colt. He didn't carry it with any regularity anymore. Right now, the familiarity of it was oddly comforting given the situation. If she was right, if someone had been right outside the front door, he needed to make sure there was no immediate threat.

This had just gone to a different level.

Walt started by Vic, but she reached out and caught his arm. Her grip was strong. He noticed that she had taken off the gloves she wore just a moment earlier.

"Wait for me."

There was no question or suggestion in the words. His first instinct was to tell her no. His second told him she would never accept that. Still…

"Vic."

She shook her head as she grabbed her 9mm and shoved her feet into her boots.

"Don't tell me to wait in here."

Walt sighed and nodded. Arguing with her would only waste time.

It was cold outside as Walt stepped onto the porch. The porch light was on, but provided no real illumination beyond the immediate area. He peered into the darkness and he listened for anything that might be someone. He heard the wind in the trees. He heard Vic behind him. He heard the beating of his own heart.

Vic stepped out beside him and scanned the dark landscape.

"I don't see anything."

Her voice was unusually low.

"Me either."

Walt walked down the steps and looked at the ground. There was snow, but not as much right at the steps. The constant traffic up and down kept it from being as thick there. He didn't believe that someone drove up to the cabin. Surely, they would have heard a vehicle. If Vic was awake she would've heard an engine.

Walt's eyes moved over the ground. He noticed a print in the snow and gave Vic a look. Without him posing the question, she jogged back up the steps and into the cabin. She returned seconds later with a flashlight that she aimed at the print. It turned out to be multiple prints that led to and from the cabin in a discernable pattern.

Walt's mind catalogued them just as if he were working a case.

He was in a way.

A very personal one.

"Prints are a good size. A man."

Walt spoke as he processed the information.

"Long stride."

A man. A tall man.

He gestured and she nodded. Walt started tracing the direction the tracks came from. Whoever this was made no real effort to hide the prints. Walt could hear Vic behind him.

Vic cleared her throat and spoke. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"There's no way I didn't hear a car or truck."

He believed that beyond any real doubt. The cabin wasn't all that big and sound carried out here in the vastness. Walt stopped walking and Vic nearly collided with him.

"What?"

Walt held out his hand and she passed him the flashlight. Even in his retirement they worked well together just the way they always had.

"You're right."

"About?"

The questions in her voice were clear. Walt motioned for her and Vic stepped up beside him.

"You didn't hear a vehicle. Look."

Her eyes shifted to the ground where the snow was eerily lit up by the flashlight. Vic bent down and braced her hands on her thighs.

"They didn't drive."

"Nope. Not this close to the cabin anyway. Probably parked further up the road so that we wouldn't her anything."

Vic straightened up. Her exhaled breaths were visible in the frigid night air.

"Jesus."

Walt continued to look at the ground. The picture painted itself with very little effort on his part.

There, on the snow covered ground out in front of the cabin, were the unmistakable impressions of horse hooves.

xxx

"I have to get ready for work."

Vic rubbed her hands over her face tiredly. The long, sleepless night was dawning into a day that promised to be just as long. After Walt found the prints, the night had snowballed from there and never really slowed.

They called Cady to report the incident. She knew that was hard for Walt. He was accustomed to being the law, being the one who was called. Not the other way around. Cady came out and they photographed all the prints that Walt found. Cady bagged up the note and took it with her to have it tested for any fingerprints or possible DNA.

They were alone now. Walt had offered to make breakfast, but Vic declined. She wasn't hungry. Walt didn't seem to be either. It was likely more about having something to do. Idleness in this situation was not easy to digest. With the way that her stomach felt right now, neither would food.

Neither one of them suggested going back to bed. They both knew they wouldn't be able to sleep, so there didn't seem to be any point. Vic sat at the table in the kitchen leaned back in the chair. Her eyes felt heavy and her mind a little sluggish.

Walt watched from the other chair as she leaned forward and rose slowly. Vic stretched her arms up over her head.

"Maybe a shower will wake me up."

"I'll make some fresh coffee."

That was something that she wasn't going to turn down. Today was definitely going to be a day she got through based on caffeine and pure grit. Were they not in the middle of a murder investigation, Vic likely would have taken the day off. Unfortunately, that wasn't realistic.

Walt stood up and she heard him taking out the coffee as she left the kitchen.

In the bedroom, Vic grabbed her work clothes and went into the bathroom. A cooler shower would probably be better at making her feel less tired. It was so cold outside, though. The thought of a less than warm shower didn't appeal to her.

Vic switched on the shower and gave the water time to warm up.

She undressed and stepped under the warm spray. The heat did loosen up the tenseness in her muscles. Vic kept her hair as dry as possible, washing only her body. She had neither the time or the energy to dry her hair and it was too damn cold out for wet hair.

Out of the shower, she dressed for work and pulled her hair back in a ponytail. A look in the mirror told her that there would be no hiding how tired she was. As she left the bedroom, the smell of coffee greeted her.

Walt already had a mug waiting and it was clear from the color that he'd already added sugar. He lifted the mug by the handle and offered it to her as she approached. Vic took it with a slight smile and wrapped both hands around the mug.

"Thanks."

She took a sip and it was as good as it smelled.

"Sure you don't want something to eat?"

"I'm sure."

In truth her stomach felt knotted up. Adding food didn't seem like a good idea.

Walt gave her a long look. She was halfway expecting him to say something to the effect of 'don't worry.' He didn't. His expression was serious and his jaw was firmly set in a look that was familiar to her.

Walt was not one to take things like this passively.

"We're going to figure this out."

He was trying to inject certainty into the words. Vic wasn't convinced and couldn't say for sure that Walt really was. It was in his nature to try and make those around him feel better, to feel as though he could handle what it was the world was dishing out.

They both knew that wasn't always true.

Between the two of them they had enough life experience to know things didn't always work out the way you wanted them to, or the way you thought they should. The world seemed to enjoy kicking people while they were down.

"Yeah."

She wasn't in the mood to voice any of her doubts or to challenge his assertion. Vic sipped her coffee again.

"What are you gonna do today?"

Walt lifted his hand and rubbed it along the scruff at his jaw. He needed to shave. Didn't he always.

"Look around some more. See if there's something we missed earlier."

It made sense. Walt would want to feel like he was doing something. He wasn't one to sit on his hands and let events unfold around him.

"Try not to worry."

There it was.

Vic huffed out a breath that lacked any real amusement.

"That's easier said than done. And…don't tell me that you're not worried about this. I know you are."

"You need to focus on work. Let me deal with this."

She shook her head and looked away.

"You know that's not gonna happen, Walt. There's no way not to worry about this. Someone went through a lot of trouble to deliver that note. That wasn't done on a whim. It took some planning."

"I know."

His voice was strained and that gave her a twinge of guilt. He stepped up close to her.

"You know I won't let anything happen to you."

Something in her softened.

"I know."

The acknowledgement seemed to be something that he needed.

Vic finished off her coffee and placed the mug aside.

"I should go."

He nodded.

"Okay. If I find anything…"

"Call me."

She broke in to make sure he knew what she wanted him to do. There was no reason for him to hold back. Not now. But, she knew how Walt could be. He was not above keeping things to himself in the name of protecting people he cared about.

"I will."

Vic studied him for a long, quiet moment. He held her gaze and his eyes never wavered from hers. She gave him credit for that. Walt knew what she was looking for. He usually did. His intuition was as on point as it had ever been.

"I will call you."

Vic released a breath and dipped her chin.

"Okay."

xxx

Walt walked his property with a familiarity that was hard to find. He stepped methodically, careful to scan the ground before he moved forward. If there were any other tracks, or any other evidence, he didn't want to destroy it and have it be of no use to them. He didn't know what was going on or who was doing this.

He intended to find out.

No direct threats had been made, but he and Vic were both smart enough to read between the lines. The note had his name on it, so he assumed this was someone with more of a connection to him than to Vic. He wasn't stupid enough to believe that meant there was no real danger to her. She was in danger just as much as he was. Maybe even more. On the one hand, she could be seen as collateral damage. Simply guilty by association. But, he knew it was also likely that someone with an axe to grind with him might very well see her as an avenue to get to him.

It had been done before.

Walt didn't like the idea that being with him might put her in danger. Her job did that enough. It was something they hadn't addressed so far. He really didn't see the point. What was he going to do? Tell her to leave in order to keep her safe. Even if he was so inclined, Vic would never go for it. She would tell him exactly where he could stick that idea.

As far as he was concerned, she was safer here with him where he could watch over her. That gave him some level of satisfaction. Walt would be hesitant to tell Vic that. She was not a fan of feeling as though someone was taking care of her. Vic was independent. It was one of the aspects of her personality that he always admired. It was also a hurdle she struggled with in personal relationships. Walt was well acquainted with the idea because he was the same way.

They were slowly learning.

Together.

There had to be give in order for there to be take.

At some point you had to let go of complete control.

Walt didn't notice anything that he hadn't already seen. He wasn't satisfied with that, though. He was a good tracker. There was no denying that. He'd certainly done enough of it over the years. But, he wasn't the best.

He did, however, know the best.

On cue, Walt heard the familiar sound of a truck rumbling down the road. He temporarily left his search to meet Henry at the front of the cabin. He had called Henry earlier while Vic was in the shower. Henry emerged from the truck with clear questions on his face.

"Walt, is everything okay?"

There was clear concern in Henry's voice. Walt shook his head. There was no need to sugar coat anything. Not with Henry.

"No, it's not.'

Henry's eyes narrowed and Walt started telling him about everything. About the phone calls. About the first note. And the one that appeared last night. Walt told Henry what he had found when he searched and what he wanted from his friend.

There was no hesitation in Henry. He knew there wouldn't be. No matter what was happening between them they were always there for each other when the need arose. That aspect of their friendship was accepted and unspoken. Henry had always been there for him. Walt wished he could say the same. He was working to amend that.

Henry's eyes grew darker as Walt relayed the story.

"Someone was here."

It wasn't a question.

"Yeah."

"Is this about you…or Vic?"

"Me."

"You know that for a fact?"

"My name was on the note. This is about me."

He repeated the words, willing them into reality.

"Okay."

Henry seemed to accept that.

"But…if it's someone looking to settle a score with me…"

He paused, but Henry understood what he was saying.

"She is in danger as well."

"Yeah. I can't have that, Henry."

Henry gave him a long, knowing look. Henry was one of the people who knew him best. Henry knew how hard losing Martha was on him and the only person in his life who knew the truth from the beginning.

Like now, it was Henry who came to his aid then. Although that situation was much different than this one. Walt planned to keep it that way. He was not a man who would accept being the hunted.

He was the hunter.

A hunter of men. Of the truth. Of justice when he believed in that concept.

Walt saw what he needed to see when he looked into Henry's face. He was right to call Henry. Henry was the best tracker that he knew. That anyone around here knew. If there was anything at all to be found, Henry was the man who would find it. Walt wasn't always the best at asking for help. Everyone who knew him knew that. It wasn't exactly a secret.

Henry left Walt where he stood and looked around taking in the property and the cabin. Walt was quiet as Henry surveyed the scene, cataloguing in his mind how he wanted to handle this. Where he would start and where he would end.

For a few minutes they were both quiet as the morning stretched on around them. It was cold and Walt could see his own breath with each exhale. Henry took a deep breath and turned his dark eyes back to find Walt watching him. There was an intensity in Henry now. A seriousness that Walt knew well.

Henry took a step and glanced back at Walt.

"Let us get to work."

xxx

Vic passed the hockey puck from one hand to the other and back as she sat in her chair looking out the window. The weight of the puck was familiar. It helped her think in a way that she couldn't really explain. She tapped one booted foot on the floor in a rhythm with no real pattern. Her mind was being pulled in two different directions and she didn't like it.

She told herself to let Walt worry about what was going on outside the office right now. The notes were being processed. There wasn't much more they could do right now. She knew he was still scouring around the cabin looking for clues. Or, that's what he planned to do after she left. She knew she needed to focus on what was in front of her. What she could control.

This case.

That was easier said than done.

If someone was after Walt…

Vic blinked and forced the thought aside ruthlessly. She couldn't go there. Not right now. She had a case to focus on that needed her full attention. Not…

"Vic!"

Vic lurched in her seat as her head swiveled towards Ferg. He'd been so quiet she had forgotten he was even there. The puck in her hands dropped into her lap. He must have seen the startled look on her face and tossed out a hurried apology.

"Sorry, but…"

He gestured for her. Vic placed the puck on her desk and stood up. Her heart was still thumping hard in her chest thanks to Ferg's outburst. She walked around to Ferg's desk where his laptop was open. His face was flushed with excitement and there was a general buzz to him.

"What's up?"

"I've been looking through vehicles since yesterday. Worked on it last night at home, too. Thankfully, that's not a common model. Not anymore. There are two registered in Absaroka County."

"Plate numbers?"

Ferg shook his head with a frown.

"Plate numbers don't match. But…"

He paused and Vic picked up his train of thought.

"Someone could've switched out the plates."

"Exactly. If there's a guy out there doing illegal stuff…he could be swapping his normal plate with a different one. Since we don't have the full plate number there's no way to find out who that plate belongs to."

"You got names?"

"Yep. One of the guys, though…is eighty-two."

Vic bit her bottom lip as he scribbled down the information.

"Other guy lives in town. Shouldn't take us long to get there."

He passed Vic the paper.

"Willard Watson, Jr? Doesn't exactly sound scary."

Ferg stood up.

"Nope. We should ride over and talk to him."

He was already pulling on his Carhartt jacket. Vic shoved the piece of paper into her pocket and reached for her own duty jacket.

"Let Cady know."

Ferg nodded as he hurried to Cady's office and stuck his head in. Vic tugged up the zipper on her jacket and slipped her truck keys from the pocket. Ferg crossed the floor back to her.

"I'll drive."

Ferg nodded as they left the office.

"Cady said to let her know if we need backup."

Vic pushed the key into the ignition and fired up the truck. She left Ferg to deal with the heat as she pulled out onto the street and pushed the gas harder than necessary. The truck jumped forward under the pressure and Ferg pressed his hand on the seat to keep himself steady.

"Sorry."

Vic slowed a bit, but not too much. She wanted to see who this man was and if he was who they were looking for. They couldn't exactly walk in and demand his DNA. No, they would need to be a little subtler than that. Although, if this was their guy he would know why they were there and that might not matter.

The pace of her heart was speeding up again as adrenaline began to work its way through her system. It was the same reaction she always had in moments like this one. Over the years she'd learned to control it and keep as neutral of a facade as possible.

Ferg was right. The ride to the address the truck was registered to didn't take long. Vic turned onto the street and looked at the houses as she passed. All of the houses were roughly the same size with similar appearance. They were older houses, but were neatly kept. She pulled in and parked behind the very model of truck they were looking for.

"Looks like he's home."

Vic looked at the truck as they walked around it. It looked as though it had just been washed and possibly even waxed. The bed of the truck was empty. They were approaching the front door when it opened. Vic took in the man in front of her.

He looked thirtyish with short, light colored hair and wire rimmed glasses. He wasn't very big, about her height and slim. He wore faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt with white and red sneakers. His face was clean shaven.

He didn't seem to fit who they were looking for.

"Can I help you?"

Vic gestured towards the truck.

"Are you Willard Watson, Jr.?"

He made a face.

"Will."

Vic didn't blame him there.

"Is this your truck?"

"Yes it is. Is…there a problem?"

Vic shifted on her feet.

"I'm Deputy Moretti. This…"

She indicated Ferg.

"…if Deputy Ferguson. Do you have a few minutes to answer some questions?"

"About?"

"A truck similar to this one was seen in the vicinity of a potential crime the other night."

His face registered surprise.

"What kind of crime?"

"Can't say. We're just…checking any trucks that match the description and yours came up."

His head dipped slightly.

"I've actually been out of town on business. Just got back last night."

If that was true it would rule him out unless someone else had access to his truck.

"Were you driving this?"

"Yes. I drove to Bismarck about a week ago. I'm…"

He paused and wiped his hands across his jeans.

"…a land broker and I went to look at some properties."

"You were in North Dakota?"

"Yes. I…have receipts from the hotel as well as for my meals. Have to turn it in at work to get reimbursed."

"You have them here?"

He nodded and stepped back.

"Come in. I'll get them."

The directness with which he answered her questions and his willingness to cooperate without any sort of warrant lent credence to his story. If he could also produce proof that he wasn't home, they could rule him out.

The man was organized. It only took him a couple of minutes to provide them with a folder holding exactly what he promised. Receipts for a Days Inn in Bismarck as well as various meal receipts. He passed the folder to Ferg who looked over them and nodded to Vic.

"Looks right."

She raised her eyes.

"Could we get a phone number? Just in case we have any other questions?"

"Sure. Hold on."

He fished in his back pocket for his wallet. From it he withdrew a business card which he handed her.

"That's the company I work for. They can verify all of this."

Vic gave him a smile.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem. I hope…you find who you're looking for."

Back in her truck, Vic looked out the windshield.

"Damn. What about the other guy?"

"The old guy?"

"Yeah, you got his address?"

"Yeah, but…"

Vic shifted into drive and pressed the gas effectively cutting Ferg off.

xxx

"You are right. He is tall. But…he is not very heavy. He is a man who is thin. He is…wearing cowboy boots. Size twelve maybe."

"You see that in the prints?"

Henry shook his head.

"No, I am estimating. He came in on the road and brought the horse this far. Walked the rest of the way. The horse is shoed…but you know that."

"Yeah."

Walt looked out across his property towards the road. Henry had studied the tracks with a deep concentration and silence. Walt let him work, not talking until Henry did. As much as he felt the urge to act, he knew that such things needed to be handled with a certain level of patience.

Henry tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket telling Walt that he was finished.

"You do not have any idea who this might be?"

"No."

Walt reached up and rubbed at his face with a hand.

"You look tired."

"I am tired."

"You should rest. You will need your energy for this."

Walt breathed out audibly.

"Hard to do when someone is putting notes under my door."

"I imagine it is."

The two of them slowly started walking back to the cabin.

"Thanks for doing this, Henry. I know you're busy."

"I am never too busy to help, Walt. I only wish there was more."

"Me too."

Walt took the steps up to the porch and pulled the door open. Henry followed him inside.

"You think this person is a threat."

"Yep. This…"

Walt waved at the door.

"…is too much work for it to be anything else. No one went to all this trouble just to get attention."

"What does Vic think about it?"

Walt's brow furrowed at the question.

"What do you mean?"

"What is her opinion?"

"Same as mine."

Henry was quiet for a minute.

"She does not have any ideas?"

Walt shook his head.

"No. We don't know who this is. The calls came from Utah. We don't know anyone from Utah. Why? Are you getting at something?"

"People have looked for her in the past."

"From Philadelphia. That's…over."

Too much time had passed. And…Utah?

"Besides…my name was on the note. That's about me. Not her."

"Have you considered her safety in all of this?"

Walt frowned. He knew what Henry was suggesting and he didn't like the idea.

"That's…all I've considered, Henry. She's safer with me than alone if that's what you're getting at. I'm not going to send her away."

Henry held up his hands.

"I was not suggesting that. It was just a thought."

"I have. I need her where I can watch her."

Henry grew quiet. Walt waited, finally relenting in the silence.

"What?"

"You have a strong drive to take care of her."

"That's what you do when you care about someone, Henry."

"I know. It is just that…"

Henry paused. Walt didn't wait that time.

"That's not what's going on here. You know…I already had that conversation with both you and Cady. Nothing happened between us when she was staying here after she got shot. Even if it had…it wouldn't be anyone's business but ours. But…she wasn't in a good frame of mind and I would never take advantage of that."

The benefit of years gave him the knowledge he needed to read Henry. Not to mention this was not new territory. It was Cady who first wondered if his feelings for Vic were rooted in the act of taking care of her after she nearly died. Walt understood the concern. He also knew his feelings for Vic originated well before any of that occurred. Once he admitted that he had feelings for her, a lot more truths became evident to him.

"I have never accused you of taking advantage, Walt. I know you are not that kind of man."

"Why are we talking about this anyway? It doesn't have anything to do with what's going on right now."

"You are right. And not just about that. But, about Vic being safer with you. I know the lengths you will go to in order to keep those you love safe. Maybe you should both leave here for a few days."

"Vic has a case."

"I do not mean Durant. I mean the cabin. Stay somewhere else for a few nights and see if anything else happens?"

"Stay where exactly?"

"I can give you a room."

Walt reacted almost immediately.

"No."

Henry sighed.

"Walt, I know how you feel about the casino. I understand. But…"

Walt shook his head.

"That's not it."

Not entirely true.

"This is my home. I'm not going to run from it."

The answer was predictable.

"It is not running if you are simply making a safer choice."

"So what? We hide out for a few days and hope whoever this is just gives up."

"They will not give up. But…you could have the cabin watched. See if someone shows up."

It wasn't a crazy idea. But, he didn't like the idea of leaving the cabin. He wasn't one to run. When he didn't answer, Henry spoke again.

"Think about it. Talk to Vic."

"Sure."

The answer was about as noncommittal as you could get.

"You will let me know if you need anything else."

"I will."

Henry nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer.

"Good. Be careful, Walt."

xxx

She knew Ferg thought she was reaching. An elderly man certainly didn't commit this crime. She was fairly certain of that. But, they had to look into the truck and see if there was someone else with access to it.

"This place is a dump."

Vic peered out the windshield as her truck bumped over an unpaved, rutted driveway that wound through a swath of field that was littered with snow covered junk. A house came into view and the word dilapidated came to mind.

The house wasn't small. It was actually a large house. But, it was obvious years had passed since anyone put any real attention into the place. The once white paint was grayish and peeling. The front porch sagged in the center and the roof looked as though it needed to be completely redone. Vic had lived in some iffy places before, but nothing like this.

"Yeah, it is."

There was no truck in sight. No vehicle at all to speak of. She was wondering if this was even the right place or if they had missed something somewhere. As rural as this area of the county was, that wouldn't be hard to do.

"You sure this is it?"

Ferg shook his head.

"Sure? No."

Vic parked her truck and they both got out. They slowly surveyed their surroundings as they carefully walked up the creaky stairs onto the porch. Vic was surprised her foot didn't go through the wood to be honest.

She raised her hand and knocked.

The knock echoed inside the house and Vic listened for any signs of life.

"What's this guy's name?"

She glanced at Ferg.

"James Lowe."

Vic turned her attention back to the door and knocked again.

"Sheriff's office."

She called out in a loud voice. This time she heard a faint sound from inside. A step, thump, step, thump. After another minute or so, the front door swung open to reveal a man who looked every bit of his eighty some odd years. He didn't appear to have ever been a particularly tall man and was slightly bent over with age. His bony hand was wrapped around the handle of a wooden cane that was scuffed and worn looking. What little hair he had left was reduced to white wisps.

"Sheriff?"

He peered at Vic and Ferg.

"You don't look like the Sheriff."

Vic offered him a smile.

"I'm not. I'm Deputy Moretti. This is Deputy Ferguson. Are you James Lowe?"

He adjusted the thin frame glasses perched on his nose.

"I am. You work for Walt Longmire?"

Vic shook her head.

"No…sir. We work for Cady Longmire. She's…the new Sheriff."

"New Sheriff. Did the elder Longmire retire?"

"Yes."

His head dipped slightly.

"Seems kind of young for that. But…when you're my age…everyone seems young. So…have I broken the law."

Vic honestly couldn't tell if the man was being serious or not.

"Um…we need to ask about your truck? Do you have a truck?"

"I own a truck. I don't drive it anymore. I haven't driven in…oh five or six years now. I hate losing that independence, but when you get my age you have to get used to stuff like that. Loved that old truck when I did drive it. They don't make vehicles like they used to, you know."

He eyed her.

"Or…maybe you don't. Seem kind of young to understand that one."

Vic interjected before he could get started again. He seemed like the kind of old man who could go forever once he got started.

"Where is it?"

He paused.

"Where is what?"

Vic resisted the urge to sigh.

"Your truck."

"Oh…right. My nephew drives it when he's in town."

Vic felt Ferg perk up beside her and she felt a similar feeling.

"Your nephew?"

"Yes, he has it now."

The man paused again.

"Is he in some kind of trouble?"

She certainly wasn't going to answer that and risk the nephew being tipped off either intentionally or not.

"Right now…we're just trying to rule out some…information from a case we're working."

He was quiet for a stretch and she thought he was going to close the door.

He did not.

Instead, he shook his head.

"There's no telling what that boy's been up to."

"Could you give us his name? Maybe a phone number or…"

The old man gave his head a shake from side to side.

"Don't have a phone. I don't. He probably does. His name is Cole."

"Same last name?"

Another headshake.

"No, Cole is my sister's boy. She passed about fifteen years ago."

He momentarily looked distant as though he were reliving some past moment.

"Last name is Lassiter. Before you ask…I don't know where he is. I can tell you that he hangs out at a bar in town. The…"

His voice faded as the thought.

"…something with a color."

After another beat of quiet the old man sighed.

"I can't think of the name of it."

Vic waved a hand at him.

"Don't worry about it. Thank you."

He nodded.

"Sure. Tell him to come and see me when you talk to him."

Vic tossed Ferg a look as they retreated from the porch.

"Sure."