Page 89 of Edge of Steele
“Yeah.” She kept reading but nothing else jumped out at her.
Russ slowed and leaned forward to look in the direction of a mailbox. “We’re here.”
She looked up to see private property and no trespassing signs alongside signs warning of dogs. “Horne doesn’t want visitors for sure.”
“Might be all bark and no bite, but I’d like to take a look at that satellite footage before we go in.” Russ pulled to the side of the road and got his phone from his shirt pocket. He tapped the screen. “Property’s overgrown. Several outbuildings and places he could take cover to evade us. I’ve got a spare vest in the trunk. Let me get it for you.”
He checked his mirror and then slid out.
She didn’t like the idea of requiring a Kevlar vest. Russ was likely just being cautious, but still, she needed to take extra care. She pulled out her weapon and popped out the magazine to check it was fully loaded. Not that she really doubted it, but better to be safe than sorry. Besides, seeing the bullets gave her confidence, and she slid the clip back in place with a click that echoed in the empty car.
Russ opened the driver’s side door and tossed in a vest. She put it on as he started the car forward. She pulled the Velcro as tight as it would go, but the vest remained too big, leaving vulnerable spots. Still, it was better than nothing.
He turned into the driveway and met her gaze. “Be alert.”
She nodded and leaned forward to scope out the area. Maple trees flanked the straight driveway, and vines tangled below, climbing the trunks as if trying to swallow the canopies. Russ followed dirt tracks and tall grasses swished on the vehicle’s undercarriage. The driveway opened into a clearing holding a small log cabin and several tiny outbuildings. Horne parked a vintage orange and white VW bus with rust burrowing into the side out front.
Russ pulled up behind the van and killed the engine.
A deep dog growl and bark emanated from inside the house. She searched for any movement but saw nothing. Hand on her weapon, she got out, and the curtains fluttered on the front window.
“See that?” she asked.
“Movement in the window at my three o’clock.” He eased to her other side, likely planning to protect her if Horne opened fire.
She stepped through the deep grass next to Russ and kept her gaze moving over the area, letting it settle for longer on the window with each pass.
They reached a small porch with an old green sofa and a black metal tray table. An ashtray and a wine bottle holding a candle with wax dripping down the sides sat on top.
The door cracked open. She and Russ both stopped. She tightened her hand on her weapon.
“Whatcha want?” a gravelly male voice came from the opening.
“Sheriff Russ Maddox,” Russ called out. “We’re here to ask questions about a recent lumber mill bombing.”
“Heard about that. Had nothing to do with it.”
“Please step outside, Mr. Horne,” Russ said, his tone leaving no question as to whether Horne should comply.
He came out wearing a stained tank top style undershirt and torn bell-bottomed blue jeans that looked as old as he was. “I got nothing to say to you, so you can be on your way.”
Russ ignored him and climbed the steps. “We wanted to ask about a friend of yours. Dean Keenan.”
Ryleigh followed Russ up to the worn porch and noticed the butts in the ashtray were hand-rolled, likely pot. Not against the law in Oregon, but if she were still an agent, she could hold him on a federal offense, which they hardly ever did.
He crossed his arms, his skin shriveled, leathery, and sagging. “What about him?”
“When’s the last time you saw him?” Russ asked.
“Ain’t seen him in twenty years, back in Alabama. But I’m guessing you already know I saw him then.”
“We do.”
“But we also know you saw him recently,” Ryleigh said. “And before you answer this time, you should know that if we find out you lied to us, we’ll be more than happy to bring you up on charges as an accessory to murder. You’ll probably go away for the rest of your life.”
He tightened his arms, but his gaze wavered. “I didn’t murder no one or even know about someone getting murdered.”
“But you said you heard about the bombing,” Russ said. “Surely you heard someone died onsite.”
