Page 129 of Backtrack

The older man pulled him in for a brotherhood embrasso, slapping him on the back. “Been a long time, Son,” he said. “Your granddaddy’s funeral.”

Cutter held out his hand toward Lola. “Lafeyette Johnson, meet my partner, Deputy US Marshal Lola Teariki. Teariki, meet the sheriff of Parker County, Texas, Lafayette Johnson.”

“Deputy,” Johnson said, extending his hand. “Pleased to meet you. My friends call me LJ. Grumpy made the boys call me Mr. Johnson so long, I guess he just can’t bring himself to do it.”

“Sheriff Johnson is one of my grandfather’s oldest friends.”

“Ha,” Johnson said. “His oldest surviving friend. And that’s becauseI was one of his youngest friends. Fact is, he raised me from a pup. I was only about twenty-two when this runt was born.”

Lola grinned.

“That’s right,” Johnson said. “That makes me closer to seventy than sixty.” He gave her a nod. “But I’m still spry enough to kick the shit outta a bad guy if he needs kickin’. Once, anyway.” He nodded to Lola again. “Sorry for the language.”

“No worries,” she said. “So you knew the boss when he was a boy?”

“Sure did,” Johnson said.

“Sweet as!” she said. “I am ready to hear some stories.”

“And I’m ready to tell them,” Johnson said. He smoothed his silver mustache with a thumb and forefinger, something Cutter had seen the man do a hundred times over the years when he’d visit Grumpy in Florida. “But first, I need to make it clear why I’m here. Did your granddaddy ever tell you about a man named Ricky Lee Pink?”

“That teenage kid in Texas?” Cutter said. “He did, but not until I was older and on the job myself.” He turned to Lola. “Murdered a bunch of people during and after a botched armed robbery of five million in diamonds—fifteen in today’s money. His partner in crime was executed. Tried as an adult. Got something like six consecutive life sentences.” He looked at Johnson. The man brought back so many memories of his grandfather. It was hard not to smile—and that was saying something for Arliss Cutter. “What about him? He won’t be breathing free air anytime soon.”

“He’s breathing free air now,” Johnson said. “Right here.”

“In Alaska?”

“In Skagway,” Johnson said. “I’ve been following him since the Texas Department of Corrections decided a murdering piece of shit should have a second chance. He’s running with a lady from Canton, Texas, named Shayna Hanford. According to TDC records, he’s the latest in her string of five prison pen pals. They hooked up pretty much as soon as the gates opened and puked the bastard out. They ended up boarding this ship in Ketchikan, same place I did. I was so focused on Pink, I missed the fact that you were on the ship as well.”

“It’s a big ship,” Lola offered.

“That’s a reason,” Johnson said. “Not a good excuse. You know, Icould have had that son of a bitch in chains ten times over for possession of a firearm since he got out, but I know he’s after the diamonds. I’d sorely like to find them and get them back to their rightful owners.”

“Surely the insurance paid up?” Lola said.

“They did.” Johnson shot a sheepish glance at Cutter. “The thing is, more than a few people believed your granddad took them.”

“Diamonds?” Cutter felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “Grumpy wouldn’t take a free cup of coffee.”

“I know that,” Johnson said. “And so did most of the folks at the Sheriff’s Department, but the timing of him leaving for Florida soured a couple of the county commissioners. Not that they could ever do anything to hurt him, but they trashed Wayne’s good name for years. I hear whispers even now. If I accomplish anything while I’m still the elected sheriff of Parker County, I’d like to put those notions to rest. And to do that, I need the diamonds—”

A blond woman approached the table from behind Johnson. Except for the massive bruise and dried blood on her cheek, she looked vaguely familiar to Cutter. He’d probably seen her on the ship.

Johnson followed Cutter’s gaze to the newcomer, standing immediately when he saw her. He wasn’t just being polite.

“Ms. Hanford!” Johnson said, more to alert the others who she was than as a polite greeting.

“Sit!” Hanford said, lisping. Her front teeth were a craggy mess. “I said sit!” It was an order, made clear by the maw of the suppressed Glock she had under the raincoat draped over her arm.

Cutter froze, his hand inching instinctively for the Colt Python on his belt.

“Best not!” she said. “Now sit your asses down. I’m not going to tell you again.”

“You got some balls doing this in a crowded bar,” Lola said.

“Shut it, Moana!” the woman snapped. “I am in a mood.”

They sat.