Picnic in Someday Valley (Honey Creek #2)(18)

“And you want me to look into it.” Colby knew Sam wouldn’t be here telling him the story if he didn’t need help.

“If you’ve got time? Next time someone might be killed.”

Colby finished his coffee. “I’ve got time, but you’ll have to drive me over to Someday Valley. I rode in on my Harley. Rain and that windy road don’t mix.”

Both men stood. “I’ll be your driver, but I have to be back for a weather emergency meeting in two hours. It won’t last long, then I plan to go home and sleep for twenty-four hours.”

Colby followed Sam out. Looking into trouble seemed better than wandering the streets of Honey Creek searching for the mayor.

His cell was charged. When she remembered she left a lover in bed, she’d probably call.





Chapter 13


Colby


On a sunny day, the tiny stop in the road called Someday Valley wasn’t much to see. Now, with rain pouring, it looked more like a set for a horror movie.

A gas station with two pumps, both marked OUT OF ORDER, came into view first. Then there was an abandoned store set back from the road with three five-foot X’s nailed to the roof. What looked like a garage and body shop was next, with a sign that said, GONE FOR THE WINTER. Farther down was a bait shop with a dozen old boats stacked on the side of the hut.

The last building, a long, windowless bar, seemed in the best shape. The name on the bar was so rusty Colby could barely read BANDIT’S BAR. A dozen homes were scattered behind the worst strip mall he’d ever seen. Across the road from the bar was an entrance to a trailer park that stretched all the way to the tree line half a mile back. At one time the trailer park might have been nice, a place for fishermen and families to stop over in the summer, but not now. The abandoned office was missing windows and the door gaped open, a crumbling swimming pool collected trash, and the tennis court was spotted with weeds breaking through the asphalt.

Colby studied the place. In all the beauty of the valley, this scar was dug deep into the side of a hill. Except for one spot north of the stucco wall around the trailer park. A picnic table rested halfway to the tree line, with tall grass around and wildflowers still holding their color against the coming winter. This little spot reminded Colby of a fine painting hanging in a truck stop. A peaceful scene next to a neglected trailer park.

“We might want to try the bar first,” Sam said as he pulled into the parking lot. “Any trouble might have started there.”

Sam and Colby climbed out of Sam’s car and found Bandit’s door propped open. As they stepped inside they heard hammering coming from the back.

“Hello,” Colby called as he shook off the rain. “Anyone here?”

“We’re closed,” someone yelled back.

Colby moved toward the voice. “We’re not here to bother you. I’m a Texas Ranger and this is Honey Creek’s fire chief. We just have a few questions.”

The man slapped his hands to clean them. “Wayne Allen, owner of this shack. How can I help you?”

Colby didn’t waste time. “We were just wondering if you noticed any trouble last night. A guy named Joey showed up at the Honey Creek fire station, bleeding. From the description of his friends, they all looked like they’d been in a fight.”

The tall bar owner, with a beard halfway down his chest, shrugged.

Colby flashed his badge.

Wayne nodded as if he understood that this visit was official.

“That would most likely be Joey Hattly. He gets beat up on a regular basis. I’m usually the one who patches him up. He has a mouth on him that has no brain driving it.”

“Got any idea who broke his arm?”

“Didn’t know it was broken. I own this place, but outside that door I don’t see much. I’ve thought of beating on Joey a few times myself. He was picking on Marcie last night. She sings in here on the weekends.”

“Marcie? That wouldn’t be Boone Buchanan’s girlfriend?” Colby didn’t add more details. Everyone in the state had followed the trial of Buchanan, the man who tried to burn down the Honey Creek City Hall just to hurt the mayor. Colby had sat in the courtroom every day. So had Marcie Latimer. She cried now and then, but she never made eye contact with Boone that Colby saw.

“Yeah, that Marcie. She’s a sweet kid. I don’t know how she got mixed up with Buchanan, but I know her. She would never be involved in hurting anyone, not even Joey.” Wayne rubbed his whiskered chin and dust seemed to waterfall out. “I’ve known her most of her life. She’s got a big heart but sure can’t pick a man.”

“Know where we could find her?”

“Last trailer in the park. Back by the trees. If she’s not there, she’ll be back here singing tonight. You can catch her between sets.”

Sam thanked the owner, when Colby would have asked more questions. As they climbed into the car, Sam added, “Forget Marcie. If she’d been involved she’d be the one hurt. Joey was more than likely fighting with one of his drinking buddies. Why else would they run away after they dropped him off? We’re at a dead end.”

Sam was reading a text on his phone as he spoke. “Besides, I’m being called back to the station. We’ll have to cut this hunt short. They’ve moved the weather meeting up. My guess is that’s where you’ll find Piper. The mayor usually sits in.”