Bad Blood I

A peek inside CHAPTER 12
The Montana Sheriff humming coming into his office, sipping his coffee, hangs his big white Stetson hat, turned to see FBI Agent Amanda Willis sitting in front of his desk. At first, he’s not sure if he likes this for if she’s here that means her case brought her here, but it’s also an honor.
“Good morning,” he said extending his hand, “I’m Sheriff Conway Lyle but folks around here call me Buck.”
“Glad to meet you, I’m—”
He smiled sitting down behind his desk. “The great Agent Willis from the FBI.” He leaned forward, “Now cowgirl, don’t give me that there look for I mean that respectable.”
She smiled saying, “whew, you had me worried a moment, but it wouldn’t surprise me. I’m use to it by now.”
“Damn!” he said coming to his feet, “where are my manners. Want some coffee. It’s not bad.”
“Don’t mind if I do and I take three lumps of sugar and cream.”
He hands her the coffee, taking his seat, studying her, looking at the files she held in her hand. Yep. Her case brought her here. “How can I be of service to you little lady?”
She arched her brow saying, “my kind of man, Buck. Straight to the point.”
“Bad habit of mine but before we get started,” he leaned forward, analyzing her a moment. “When I first saw you I thought, oh crap her case brought her here, and I have to say I wasn’t sure how to feel, but may I say it’s an honor.”
“Thank you. Don’t know how to take complement after what’s happening around me but I do have some questions and hope you can help.” She slides a photo across.
He takes the picture, leaning back in his seat, eyeing as if yesterday’s nightmare came home. He strokes his gray beard, wondering where to begin and what he can tell and not, but the more he studies the bastard’s face the more he’s willing to blab his darkest secrets and demons.
He slides it back across, “breed, born and raised here, and if the side-buster steps back inside the mountains of Montana he should pray that I nail em before someone else does.”
She rubbed her forehead, looking at the photo. “Why is that?”
He pushed to his feet, strolls over to the door, “Addie May! Don’t want disturbed unless death is knocking” and turned to see bewilderment in Willis brown eyes. “How much time do you have here. Why I’m asking is that I can give you history up to his last sighting here.”
“Long as it takes,” she looked up at him, putting the photo away. “If you don’t mind me asking, what did you mean before ‘others’ gets him.”
“Kill em. Kill em dead. That ole gal he married, the Mansfield family they want him dead.”
She frowned, shaking her head not believing. “Married. Are you sure we’re talking about the same person. Married.”
“With kids. Let me see that picture again. Yep,” he said walking to his file cabinet. “That’s him,” grabbed a file, opened, comparing and then hands it to her.
She cleared her throat saying, “she still around?”
“Yes she is, and no he does not come around, but we’ll get to that,” he said sitting back down again. His Father was one of the meanest sumbitch to walk the face of the earth. He raised that boy after the wife died. Poor kid never knew his mother.”
“So he wasn’t adopted. Hmmm.”
“His Father Butch Garvin—”
“Garvin?”
He smiled, stoking his beard. “That’s right. May I see that file you have on him?” He reads a few pages, looked up to her, “still playing his game in his world.”
“Game and his world. Are you telling me you have similar cases here?”
“Agent, I have worse, it’s about as gruesome as your Full Moon cases, but death never came.” He grinned leaning toward her, “bet cha didn’t think that I kept up with you?”
“How could you not? I mean those damn camera hounds.”
He laughed. “Yeah, but you hold your own with the likes of them.”
She smiled.
“But as I was saying, I have worse and since you’re here I’ll let you view over them and see if you can figure out what makes this asshole tick, and another thing, he has many alas.”
“Is he educated?”
“Smart more ways than one, not only with education with degrees, but nothing compares to the education from his father. When I worked the crime scenes I often blamed his doings on his father for all that boy knew were roads of hard knocks, hatred, drugs, alcohol, whores and devil-worship. That kid was molested at an early age, just never could prove it, and as he got older he’d kill someone asking if his Father molested him or worshiped the devil.”
Her stomach turned hearing Satanism worshiping, but moved on, making a note within to return to this dark secret. “Why wasn’t he removed from the home, something?”
“I was a kid too at the time, a teacher at school reported her findings such as odd markings, and even a doctor for when he be taken to hospital for recurring falls and such, and infections of the penis. My dad was also sheriff at the time investigated.” He got silent, eyes watered, “My dad found the doctor and teacher dead, and…stuffed.”
She stared a moment realizing she’s at the back door about to enter. “Like in wax figures?”
He pushed his intercom button, “Addie, come in here please.” He rubbed his eyes saying, “these are open cases to this day. My dad worked endless hours on them, but when ole man Garvin died, or came up missing too I should say, he let it rest.” He held up a finger, looking to Addie, “this is gonna shock you, but I need two very ole case files from the basement 1967 Tandy Dodd and Mary Gibben.” He looked to Amanda, “I just love her, never ask questions, but sure would love to read her thoughts.”
She laughed, liking the ole fellow, and cannot wait to dig deeper in the hills of Montana uncovering dark, forgotten secrets, but knows the secrets will rip her soul.