Hell's Roundabout. Benjamin Vance

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СКАЧАТЬ which would have been beautiful during the summer, and it overlooked an area which appeared to be an old strip mine with a lake and other nature slowly reclaiming it. Chiara explained that she helped Lois with flowers from time to time and they would bring them up to the graves and she would sit in the car while Lois visited with her departed husband. Army noticed old depressions in the snow, almost covered, but plain nonetheless. Another vehicle had visited the plot just days before.

      He asked, “How many days of snow have you had in the last two weeks”?

      She said, “Only two; last Thursday and Friday and it’s been spitting a little snow ever since.”

      Army broke a limb off a low pine and swept the snow away from the furrows and beneath the snow were beautifully defined tire tracks in the old snow. He took photos and told Chiara he’d like to follow the tracks as far as possible. She agreed and since there was no real hurry he followed the tracks in his SUV, attempting to discern the direction and driver’s intentions. The tracks circled the small cemetery plot and he saw faint foot tracks leading from the car ruts to a series of headstones. He got out and brushed away the snow again and found a set of small boot prints leading to the graves. Under the new layer of snow on the headstone marked Donald Lynch Peterson he found a small bouquet of frozen flowers. He stood to look pensively over the small plot and the wintery countryside, then turning toward Chiara saw she had tears in her eyes.

      She offered, “Those are part of some flowers I gave Lois Peterson about a week ago.”

      Army didn’t initially comment and thought better than to offer condolences to a woman he hardly knew. Instead, he said, “She must have loved him very much.”

      Chiara didn’t speak, just turned back toward the SUV and its warm interior. Army followed her back to the car, watching her beautiful, snow-flecked auburn hair ruffle in the slight breeze. They followed the car tracks around the cemetery’s oval and then back to the county road, where he stopped the car and looked both ways uncertainly.

      Chiara blew her nose and offered, “Lois often visited an overlook that allows one to see the entire old mine operation and the graveyard at the same time. The open mining pit is a beautiful lake now. You have to turn left here to get to it. It would be a gorgeous view if not for the mining scars. She might have liked it anyway though. It probably reminded her of her late husband. This was his mine you know. His family made millions during World War II and then it turned over a couple of times after they sold it ... post war. He actually came back in to run it for a while after one big union strike. They lost some important equipment during a big storm though and it finally shut down completely.”

      Army turned left and drove, awaiting further instructions. It was getting dim and he didn’t want to drive far in the snow in any case. To keep the conversation going he asked, “What kind of equipment goes missing during a storm?”

      “The mine operators believed someone stole it and they blamed some union guys, but nothing was ever proven. The mine shut down shortly after that. Turn right, here!”

      As he turned, they saw the single set of dim, snow-covered tracks leading from the main road. They followed slowly with the headlights helping define the way. Very soon they had a commanding view of the valley, the cemetery and the entire water-filled, mile-long gash in the Earth caused by the old mining operation. The puzzling artifact was that the tire tracks just stopped. There was no car and no return tracks evident.

      Army got out, checking the tracks in the dim light of the headlights and dwindling daylight. He didn’t have the foresight to bring his pine broom so he tried sweeping with his gloves and had mixed results. The track’s patterns were apparently the same, but there seemed to be some black substance where the tires last rested. Not logistically prepared to take samples, he used his coffee-cup lid to scoop the stuff and cleaned the cup out with snow before dropping in a sample of the black muck. Neither occupant said much on the way back to the motel, but their minds were working overtime.

      As they pulled up to the motel, and before Army shut off the headlights, he asked, “What did they mine at that big pit?”

      “I really don’t know, but I think iron or some similar ore.”

      Army looked at Chiara and asked, “Do you want to come in for coffee or perhaps dinner. I’d be glad to buy you dinner.”

      “Oh, God thanks Army, but I think I’ll go home and try to decipher all this. Is it okay if I call the motel tomorrow morning if I think of anything else?”

      “Sure it is, and don’t forget, I’d like to get into that old house as soon as possible to check things out. There may be something in there that’ll lead to an answer to this puzzle.”

      “Oh, I forgot, sure Jeff … somebody is the broker in temporary charge of it, but I have a key too. Maybe we better get him to go in with us … Tanner is his last name; Jeff Tanner. I’ll call him tonight, okay?”

      “Thanks Chiara, it would be better to go in with him. Of course I’m under a time constraint and I really need to get in early tomorrow if possible. If you would like me to call him then call me with his number.”

      “Okay, Army. I’ll let you know as soon as possible. Goodnight.”

      Army lay thawing on his warm bed in his warm room and contemplated the whereabouts of Mrs. Peterson. If the tracks were the right tire make for a Prius he would still be no further ahead than he was at that moment. The pieces of the puzzle just didn’t fit. How can a car pull onto an overlook and just disappear.

      He thought it may have been possible for a car to back up on exactly the same tracks and obliterate the previous ones if the conditions were just right, but why would someone do that when there was plenty of room to simply make a large loop and turn around that way; especially an 83 year old woman? He decided to buy a broom and sweep the entire track if necessary, to see if the in and out tracks overlapped. Meanwhile, he was tired as hell and hoped Chiara could arrange a meeting with the realtor tomorrow, the same guy he’d talked to earlier. Also, he hoped he would at least be able to glimpse the sun the next day.

      However, the next morning broke cold, overcast and snowing, just as he feared. He opened the drapes in his second-story room to let in the maximum light possible and he thought of Sonora and her beautiful laugh. Then he hung his head for a moment, looked out again, chastised himself for thinking about her; slowly shook his head in a self-effacing way. Finally he condescended to take a shower and meet the miserable day head-on. Just as he turned to visit the bathroom, the motel phone rang and frightened the quiet out of the room. It was Chiara with information about Jeff Tanner and the Peterson home. Tanner was not permitted to allow anyone into the home without a search warrant.

      Mr. Gilbertson said he wanted to make sure all avenues were explored before anyone was allowed in the house. The trouble with that mind-set was all avenues could not be explored until the house was checked. Army decided to call Mr. Gilbertson and called Sheriff Shepard to get Gilbertson’s number. He had to check in with Andy anyway and considered it a good reason to do so. Andy was dismayed at what Army had to tell him, but Andy had been around the bend more than once and knew Army would do a good job with the investigation. In any case, the DNA check was not back yet.

      Army called, but had to leave a message on Gilbertson’s machine. He cleaned up, ate breakfast and headed to a food store to buy a broom. He decided on a polymer broom with a soft bristle and stopped to purchase some beer on the way to the register. The store wasn’t exactly busy so he breezed through the checkout and into his four-wheel drive SUV in record time. As he pulled out, he noticed it was snowing even harder. He decided to sweep the tracks before he did anything else, since a wait may have meant no tire tracks until spring.

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