“It was always true, although I didn’t see it clearly,” Anne said. “Probably got worse after. Have you heard the story of our divorce?”
Mac laughed, and Angie giggled.
“I see you have,” she said, laughing herself. “The woman wasn’t the first, and hasn’t been the last. But her pregnancy was just the last straw. I may have over-reacted.” She laughed some more.
“So, he didn’t marry her?” Mac asked, incredulously.
“Huh? No, he denied it was his when he contested the divorce. She said she would swear to it in court the baby was his,” Anne said, shaking her head. “He backed down, and compromised on child support for our kids. He was refusing to pay any. The amount he does pay isn’t enough, but we’re getting by. It would be enough if I could go to Seattle.
“Sorry,” she added. “I know I sound like a broken record, but it’s been dragging on for months. And I’m frustrated.”
“Don’t blame you,” Mac assured her and meant it. He was frustrated for her.
“So, what is he like as a cop? You’re in a job to hear things, as well as having been his wife?” he asked.
She considered that. “Day-to-day, he does a good job,” she said. “Like getting those papers served on Lucas. A bit of charm, and there you go. But long term? He didn’t back up his officer who got shot at for God’s sake. His turnover is high, he’s constantly being dinged for his lack of female officers. He hires them if the county attorney yells at him long enough, but he’s big on this constitutional sheriff bit, that no one can tell him what to do.”
“And to some degree, that’s the law,” Mac said. “Sheriffs are elected so they’re equal to the commissioners or to the county attorney. Not like the police chief who is hired and answers to the city council.”
“That’s why he ran for sheriff,” she agreed. “He didn’t like being told what to do. And even if he became police chief one day, he still would answer to someone. But the constitutionalists go beyond that. You know about that right?”
Mac nodded. “Has he always been there or is that new?”
“Right after he got elected, he got a visit from this organization. Must have been 2008? When Obama got elected? He didn’t like President Obama at all. Thought we’d be in a hostile takeover situation. That we’d have to fight to defend the country from our own government,” she rolled her eyes. “I was astounded. I hadn’t seen any kind of evidence of that kind of racist, right-wing rhetoric before we married. But we married shortly before 9/11 and a lot of cops changed then. Became more hardline, you know?”
Mac nodded. “I was 16 when 9/11 happened,” he said. “I enlisted two years later.”
Anne shook her head. “Bad times. But President Obama has been good for this country and these guys can’t see it because of his color. They’re all about false flags and New World Order and so on. So, he hooks up with a couple of guys and gets hard core into gun culture. And runs these damn wilderness weekends.”
“Not this weekend,” Mac said. “Every other week?”
“Thereabouts,” she agreed. “Craig Anderson organizes them. There’s a guy in Sedro-Woolley who does the actual trip planning — food and such. A lot of guys from the city get involved. I don’t get it. But I know they are egging each other on in this militia rhetoric. And this don’t let the bitches take our kids and guns rhetoric. My God, the number of guns. That’s how Jorgensen got into it. He wanted them to buy from him. But I don’t think they do. Mostly they buy from Craig Anderson.”
Well, there’s how it all connects up, he thought. So which one was Sensei? Or was there yet another person unseen? “You got a name for the guy in Sedro-Woolley?” he asked.
She thought for a moment, got out her phone and googled something. “Northern Cascades Wilderness Adventures,” she said. “Ken Bryson. I’ve met him. He’s not the most stable man in town, and Sedro-Woolley is kind of the jumping off point for a lot of men who come back from war and head to the hills. You know the kind I mean?”
Mac did.
“Ken Bryson is 60, leather tough, and mean,” she said slowly. “He can’t compromise, won’t back down. There’ve been incidents. I keep waiting for him and Pete to lock horns. So far, they haven’t. But that surprises me.”
Mac filed that all away. He took it with a grain of salt: there were coworkers who would describe him the same way. Maybe he’d see if he could find Bryson. “You two have been divorced for two years. Has it been going on that long?” Mac asked with a frown.
She nodded. “Since before his re-election,” she said. “I hear things. Sounds like it’s gotten bigger. They tapped into the Seattle market. And it’s boomed since then.”
Maybe there was another man, then, Mac thought.
“You ever hear them refer to Sensei?” he asked.
“Like in martial arts?” She frowned. “No.”
“Did your husband spend much time on Facebook?”
“My husband?” Her tone was incredulous. “He’s barely able to use his cell phone.”
She looked at the clock. “My boys will be home soon,” she said. “You shouldn’t be here when they get here. Kids talk.”
Mac nodded, thanked her, and they were out of there in minutes.
“Let’s find that bar,” he said. “You drink. We dance. I shoot some pool. We pick up talk. I’m the designated driver home. Deal?”
“Deal,” she said, troubled.
“There was a tell,” he guessed.
“Yeah,” she said. “But nobody tells the truth all the time.”
“The kids aren’t on their way home,” he said. “But I’d guess someone is coming over. A man-friend.”
“An ex?” she wondered.
He raised an eyebrow at her and grinned. “I like your brain, girl,” he said with approval. “Shall we swing
