He found Jimbo behind his trailer, raking leaves in his postage-stamp backyard.
“Jimbo, when did Cleve Garrett pull out?” Joe asked the resort manager. Jimbo froze, then slowly looked up. “What do you mean?”
Joe was confused for a moment. “Don’t you know that he’s gone? I just came from there. The lot is empty.”
Jimbo let the rake fall into the pile of leaves he had made. “Well, what do you know,” he said. “He musta’ left during the night. He was all paid up, so he doesn’t owe me anything. But he at least could have said goodbye so I’d have known I have another space to rent.”
“Didn’t you hear him go?” Joe asked, incredulous.
Jimbo pointed at his own head. “I don’t hear nothing without my hearing aids anymore. I take ’em out to sleep, so I guess he left after I went to bed.”
“When was that?”
Jimbo pondered the question. “Let’s see, I watched the news, read a little. You ever read Harry Potter?”
Joe had, but he didn’t want to discuss it.
“I’m hooked,” Jimbo said. “I’m on the third one now. I never thought I’d care a good goddamn about a little Brit orphan, but . . .” “Jimbo, what time?”
Jimbo’s face lost enthusiasm, and he thought for a moment. “Must have been after 11:30 or so. I think that’s when I packed it in.”
Deena’s last e-mail to Joe had been sent at 11:15, Joe remembered. In it, she hadn’t said they were leaving. Maybe she hadn’t known yet, he thought, the sick feeling coming back. Maybe Cleve read Joe’s response over Deena’s shoulder, and decided then that they needed to go immediately.
But what difference did it make what time they left? Joe thought. What was significant was the fact that they were gone, and that they felt a need to leave in the middle of the night.
Why?
As he crossed the Twelve Sleep County line into Park County, Joe called Hersig and told him that Cleve Garrett was gone and mentioned Deena’s e-mail.
“I think we should put out an APB,” Joe said. “Locating their truck and that big Airstream shouldn’t be too difficult.”
Hersig hesitated. “What?” Joe asked.
“We don’t have any grounds to stop him,” Hersig said. “A man has a right to move his trailer from place to place, Joe.”
“What about Deena?”
“What about her? Can you honestly make a case that you think she’s in danger? Or threatened? From what you told me she hasn’t ever indicated that she’s in trouble. It doesn’t sound like we have anything to go on at all here, Joe.”
Joe held the phone away from his ear and looked at it, scowling at Hersig. Then he pulled it back. “They left right after she sent me an e-mail, like I said. She was going to tell me something this morning that she thought was important. I’m telling you, Cleve Garrett is dirty in some way. Why else would he hightail it out of town so quickly when just the other day he was begging me to get him on the task force? I think he’s going to hurt her, if he hasn’t already.”
“Aw, Joe.. .”
“Damn it, Robey, if we find her body somewhere I hope you remember this conversation.”
Hersig sighed, “Okay, I’ll call the highway patrol. But if he’s located, we need more than what you’ve given me to search the trailer or arrest the guy. If she’s with him and looks okay we’ll have to cut him loose with our apologies.”
Joe hoped that if Garrett was stopped the man would give something away that would invite inquiry. At least Joe would know if Deena was with him, and if she was unharmed.
Maybe Barnum had a point, Joe thought, as he slowed his pickup to enter Cody. Maybe Joe didn’t know what he was doing.
Park County sheriff Dan Harvey had agreed to meet with Joe in his office to go over the case file of Stuart Tanner’s death. Harvey seemed younger and more at ease than he had been during the task-force meet-ing, Joe thought. Maybe he was just more comfortable on his own turf.
The sheriff offered coffee, and Joe accepted. They sat in the sheriff ’s office, which was larger and much neater than Barnum’s rathole, Joe observed. There were even books on the bookshelves.
“I asked Deputy Cook to sit in with us, Joe. He received the callout and was the first officer on the scene.”
Joe nodded to Cook, who nodded back. Joe thought the deputy seemed capable and serious.
“Anything happening in Twelve Sleep County?” Harvey asked, as a receptionist delivered three Styrofoam cups of see-through coffee.
“Need anything in it?” she asked Joe.
Maybe some coffee beans, Joe thought, but declined her offer. “Has Robey been in contact with you?” Joe asked.
“Every afternoon.”
“Then you know that we haven’t made any progress. That paranormal guy Cleve Garrett has disappeared, though. We’re looking for him. But nothing of significance has happened yet.”
