Page 128 of Backtrack

Pink glanced at Shayna. “Call the police and tell them there’s a drunk woman at the ball fields without her clothes.”

“What?” she gasped. “The body’s there.”

“No shit the body’s there,” Pink said. “How many cops do you think are in this town?”

Leo shrugged. “Can’t be more than a couple on duty at any one time.”

“I agree,” Pink said. “We want the cops to find the old dude. A murder in paradise like this will keep ’em busy for hours, days even.”

“Won’t they just ask the marshals for help?” Leo said.

“Probably,” Pink said. “That’s why Shayna’s calling in a drunk woman. Not much of a threat, but something the locals will be compelled to investigate. Can’t have Aunt Sally walking around naked and scaring the moneybag tourists.”

“That’s actually pretty smart,” Shayna said.

Pink scoffed. “You know, being astonished that I’m smart is the same thing as calling me dumb.”

“I … you’re not … I didn’t mean—”

“I’m just teasing,” he said.

It was good to see the shovel had done its job.

Pink stared hard at the door of the Red Onion Saloon.

“Give me five minutes,” he said. “Then make the call.”

CHAPTER 57

Cutter and Lola linked up with Officer Minor of the Skagway Police Department as soon as they landed, providing him with Leo Bouchard’s photograph. Minor was the only officer on duty that morning until his partner got back from the dentist in Haines, a twenty-minute air taxi ride away.

Minor needed to drop something by the Red Onion, where his wife played the role of one of the soiled doves and gave quickie tours through the historic brothel upstairs.

“We can do this the easy way,” he said. “We can do this the hard way, or we can do it the Skag-way …”

Cutter and Lola looked at each other, not quite knowing what to make of Minor’s joke.

“The Red Onion opens at ten,” Minor said. “I suggest we grab an early bite before Joellen’s train gets back into town at noon.”

“Interesting decor,” Lola said when they stepped through the saloon doors. “Who’d a thought you could line a wall with heaps of bedpans and call it decoration …” She shrugged. “I reckon it works in its own way.”

Normally packed to the gills with cruisers, the Red Onion was all but empty at this early hour. Deep red with forest-green trim, the saloon itself was a long, relatively narrow affair with a couple of tables by the window facing Broadway and two rows of staggered tables running the length of the establishment. In addition to the dozens of assorted bedpans, the walls were decorated with a couple of whaling harpoons and dozens of photos of Skagway during its Klondike Gold Rush heyday.

A tired set of wood stairs behind the cashier and T-shirt counter led up to what had once been the rooms for the working girls. According to Skagway history, the Red Onion was one of the higher-end establishments—certainly better than the ramshackle cribs crowded in the back alleys of town where the girls would go when they lost their looks and fancy charms.

Cutter chose an empty table along the way, near the door to Broadway.

Lola had just ordered a big plate of Naughty Nelly Nachos when Minor got a call from his dispatcher about a naked woman running around out by some baseball fields on the outskirts of town.

“Sounds like she chose the Skag-way.” Lola chuckled, offering to go with Minor because he was by himself. He shrugged it off, promising to keep an eye out for Leo Bouchard.

Lola took a moment to text her boyfriend. Cutter called the chief. Mim tended to have a morning nap after she got the boys up and going for the day and he didn’t want to wake her up.

No sooner had the line connected than a tall man with thinning gray hair strode across the saloon floor and pulled up a chair beside their table.

Cutter wasn’t a man easily caught on his back foot. Lola noticed something was happening and pushed away from the table. A broad smile spread across Cutter’s face, and he shot to his feet, thrusting out his hand.

“Lafayette Johnson!” he said. “I’d know that Sam Elliott mustache anywhere!”