“For what?”
“DUI. Sonuvabitch was waiting outside the Tall Moon Tavern. Kid comes out after closing, gets in his car, starts it up, drives fifty yards, and the chief’s all over his ass. He was just hiding down the road in the dark, lookin’ to bust someone, and he gets my son. Fuckin’ two thirty and I have to go down to the jail and bail the kid out. Wayne’s there, pleadin’ the kid’s case, sayin’ he didn’t pour ’im more than two drinks. Gustafson didn’t care. I didn’t even get home until nearly five. What kind of law enforcement is that?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” I said.
In South Dakota it was legal to buy hard alcohol in a grocery store, and Ed Bizek took advantage of the law. His cart held a case of bottled beer, and he was intent on selecting whiskey from a surprisingly broad assortment of brands when I came upon him.
“Looks like you’re a boilermaker man,” I said.
Bizek glanced at the basket I held in my hand and smirked. The basket contained two large plastic jugs filled with distilled water. In self-defense, I said, “You’re supposed to drink eight glasses of water a day.”
“If you say so.”
I wanted to see how he would react to the news, so I was blunt when I delivered it.
“I saw Dawn and Perry Neske at breakfast this morning. They were behaving like newlyweds.”
“I hope they’re very happy together,” Bizek said. There was no emotion in his voice. He set a bottle of whiskey in his cart and moved toward the front of the store. I followed.
“I take it Dawn’s gone back to her husband,” I said.
“Is this any of your business, McKenzie?”
“No, but I have questions that still need answering.”
“No one cares,” he said, meaning he didn’t.
“Tracie Blake cared.”
That stopped him.
“Tracie.” He said the name as if it were an act of devotion, his head down, his eyes closed. When he opened his eyes again, he said, “What kind of town is this? What have we become? First the Imposter and then Tracie and Mike and now the Dannes. Who lives in a town like this?”
“People,” I said. “Just people the same as everywhere else, I guess.”
“I used to like this town. I used to love this town.”
“Tracie said it was a fine place to live if you had someone to grow old with.”
“Tracie said that?”
“It was pretty much the last words she spoke to me.”
Bizek took a few moments to consider Tracie’s theory. From the expression on his face, I guessed that he believed it, too. Finally he said, “What do you want, McKenzie?”
“You knew the password to the bank account—”
“Not that again.”
“Did you ever tell anyone about the money in the account—”
“No.”
“Did you ever tell anyone the password—”
“No. I’m not stupid, McKenzie. Besides, I’m lousy about things like that. I can never remember passwords or account numbers. I have to write that stuff down and keep it in my wallet. Tell me something? Are you any closer to finding the Imposter and the money?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Can you be sure by, say, Thursday?”
“What happens Thursday?”
“That’s when the next city council meeting is scheduled. That’s when we have to ’fess up about how much money Libbie has lost, although, hell, I think most people are starting to figure it out already.”
“George Humphrey said he won’t be there. He said he’s leaving town.”
“That figures. Dawn will probably leave, too.”
“Did she say so?”
“Not in so many words. The last time we were together…”
I could see the pain reaching Bizek’s eyes, and I was afraid that he might break down. I didn’t have time for that, so I prompted him to keep talking.
“What did she say?” I said.
“She said that she wanted to give her marriage another chance. She said—”
“When was this?” I said.
“Friday night, about—it was early. Perry works the second shift, gets off at two in the morning, so usually she stays later, only this time, after we—after we—she got dressed and she said it wasn’t going to work out.”
The tears began to flow silently down Bizek’s cheeks, and I wondered, what did he think was going to happen? Men and women cheat on their spouses all the time, yet they seldom leave them. It’s the ones who get cheated on that do the leaving, and the cheaters are nearly always surprised when they do.
I left him standing there and went to the checkout in the front of the store.
I had parked my Audi on the shoulder of the county road and was emptying the distilled water out of the plastic jugs into the ditch when my cell phone started playing “Summertime.”
“Hello, Chief,” I said. “I was just talking about you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“A guy named Hudalla wants to stick a knife in your back.”
“He can get in line. McKenzie, I finally got hold of the manager of the rental car company down in Rapid City. He’s still pissed off.”
“About what?”
