We drove to meet with Lorna and Vicky overflowing with conjecture about strange Deputy Spiesz and his dimwitted devotion to simplicity. 

“I’ve known a couple cops like him,” Tony said, his words laced with a hint of admiration. “Good to have for backup. Not great detectives, but reliable when your back’s up against it.” He turned to watch the town roll by. 

“If you say so,” I said with a glance to test my friend’s sincerity. He had a history of pulling my leg. The upward slope of his mustache eased my suspicion, a signal of his thoughtful consideration of facts. “He’s got a weird glitch,” I said. “Like he’s slipping in and out of focus.” I wheeled the Tacoma into a left turn. 

Tony continued his assessment. “The man best take care to stay away from bad influencers. Dense sidekicks get eaten in this business, beards for wannabe kings of crime.” His expression turned grim as he shook his head.

I grunted. “This whole idea of a secret benefactor seems sketchy. Those kind are very often bad influencers.”

“My point exactly. Don’t know what it means for Spiesz, though. At this point he is probably just a mouthpiece.”

We stopped in front of the house, no closer to fathoming Spiesz’s logic. More options meant more doubts. The prospect of a new client increased my chances of getting paid enough to make the trip worthwhile. But my gut churned against it. Play it safe with Lorna? Or risk climbing into bed with a covert philanthropist? The choices unsettled my bowels. Every time I flipped the thing over, Spiesz’s suggestion about a mystery client looked less appealing. 

I led the way through Lorna’s miniature badlands to the front porch. “Brief introductions and then I’ll ambush them about their ongoing feud with Aidan,” I told my friend as we approached the door.

“You’re the boss, boss,” Tony replied.

Vicky answered my knock. Her usually droopy eyes popped open at the sight of Tony. “Thank God,” she said, turning a glare on me. “Real help at last.” 

I ignored the bait. “You remember Tony, then?”

Vicky jumped on that. “It’s good that you’re here.” Her agitation showed in tremors. “I was threatened.”

“Really?” Tony asked.

The claim didn’t ring true. I’d heard nothing about this earlier. While her face was pale, eyes wide and darting in fear, hands trembling where they held her spindly arms tight to her chest, it had too much drama.  Her shaky voice and panicked tone seemed overdone. By the looks of her she clearly had a reason to feel afraid. I just wasn’t convinced it was something that had happened in the moments before we arrived.

Tony prompted her. “Have you told the local cops?”

Vicky turned away. “They won’t do anything. They don’t care.”

“Is that because Mom and Dad use Kayla as a weapon in the family feud?” I said.

Vicky spun on a pin. “How dare you!” All signs of fear fled in the face of her ire.

“Sheriff de Lude told me her disappearance is part of a routine battle maneuver in the war between your parents,” I said to feed the flame. “Says he’s investigated several occurrences just like this. Then Kayla reappears, no harm done.”

Lorna swept in from the hall.

“Don’t turn this around on me!” Lorna wailed. “I do my best with these kids. It’s Aidan. Always telling stories, playing with a child’s imagination, keeping everyone off balance. When we call for help, it’s out of genuine fear of what he might do to her if his crazy ideas take over.”

“You think he’s schizophrenic?” Tony asked.

“And who are you?” Lorna demanded, those attractive features distorted with a baffled grimace, mouth half-open in disapproval.

“Schizo-something!” Vicky intercepted. “Did he tell you about his Glass Castle?” Flecks of spittle transported her words with the accuracy of cobra venom. “You probably bought interest in that one.” 

I considered her for a moment, before turning to Lorna. “This is my friend, Tony. He’s passing through, offered to help. And works as a deputy sheriff in my hometown.”

Lorna’s face softened. Her eyebrows lifted to reveal the gleam of the huntress. “Oh,” she said.

I shifted back to Vicky with force. “What exactly are you afraid of?” I asked. “You tell me he could hurt Kayla. Then you tell me you were threatened yourself. When has he had time to do this? Isn’t he watching the little girl? Keeping her hidden?”

Neither of them replied. They stood bug-eyed, as stiff as storefront mannequins, fear keeping them victimized and immobile. Aidan’s bizarre behaviors had this town tied in psychological knots. Barking out people’s weaknesses and troubles in public, claims of fantasy castles designed to save them from the apocalypse, and hiding out in the hills with the remnants of abandoned automobiles like a newfangled shaman had them completely bamboozled. 

Spiesz’s mystifying offer came to mind. I could use it. Break loose a shard of evidence. Or clamp them up tighter than a radioactive waste drum. If Renée found out I tried to coerce information out of her friends, she’d have a cow.

Tony kept quiet on the sidelines, that cockeyed half-smile he used to great effect when questioning suspects, currently at work mocking us. It didn’t seem to phase the Peale women.

“Who runs the show around town?” I asked, in a shift that might break a nugget loose. “I have reason to believe the Sheriff isn’t the king of the hill around here.”

They both scowled.

Lorna said, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Know anything about people crossing the border?” I asked. “Say, against their will?”

Vicky pouted. “You’re not making sense. Why would anyone do that?”

“Like a business for moving unwilling participants,” Tony said, playing along. 

“If people want to go to Canada,” Lorna said, the look of confused frustration returning to her face, “they just go. I don’t understand the question.”

I pushed it a little further, in the hopes they might reveal involvement in the horrible activity I was hinting at. “Sometimes people aren’t given the option about where they want to go.” 

Vicky threw her hands high. “What does any of this have to do with Kayla?” she howled.

“Ever heard of human trafficking?” I asked, going for a vein. “Taking people across the border against their will. Either of you heard anything about that?”

Vicky jerked her head about like a bird. Her body shook until her teeth rattled.

“Vicky?” Lorna said.

I tried to move in front of her, but she bounced away. “You know something you’re not saying?” I asked.

Vicky burst into tears, a virtual garden hose dancing under pressure.

Lorna stepped in close and grabbed Vicky by the shoulders. She gave her elder daughter a hard shake. “Do you know something? Tell me!”

Vicky jerked out of her mother’s hands. “I don’t,” she shouted, her face contorted like Munch’s the Scream. “It’s just that—” Her speech apparently got stuck in the anguish.

Lorna hovered over her. “What is it, Vic? We have to know. You have to tell!”

Vicky found a few words. “If something like this has happened to Kayla.” Her sob exploded into a caterwaul.

Lorna wrapped Vicky’s skinny frame with her arms. “It’s okay, child. We’ll find her.” Her eyes pleaded with me over the tormented girl’s shoulder.

I bobbed my head with a congenial nod. “Okay, okay. It’s just a question. Doesn’t mean a thing. I’m still convinced Aidan has her hidden away.”

“Bernie de Lude doesn’t believe us,” Lorna said, holding her daughter tightly. “He thinks this is all a silly game we play to entertain him. Only he’s not entertained anymore. Vicky used to be his personal project. He was always around to help her cope with her crazy parents, me and Aidan.” She patted Vicky’s angular shoulder blades. “Until Vic left home, off to your neck of the woods. After Kayla came along, and I was left here to parent the baby alone, the sheriff paid attention to Aidan’s pranks for awhile. I think he got tired of it. The whole town is tired of it. It’s why I agreed to have you come help. After Renée told us you were good at helping people find things out, solve crimes and such.”

Vicky pushed off from her mother’s hold. “Bernie still wants to help me, Mom!”

“Then why isn’t he looking for her?” Lorna demanded.

Vicky wrapped her thin arms tightly around her body. “He just knows Kayla runs off and Dad is getting more difficult.”

“Well,” Lorna said with a huff. “He’s not acting as if he cares a wit for any of us, your sister included.” 

“It’s not me, Mother. You’re the ones he doesn’t like.” Her chin came up a little higher. “I spoke with Bernie. We both know Kayla is fine, wherever she is hiding.”

My stunned gape let every idea escape unspoken from my mouth.

Lorna focused her scowl on me. “He’s got personal problems,” she added, letting her shoulders slump. “Who can tell what he’s thinking. Kayla might be the farthest thing from his mind. Maybe someone is using that to their advantage.”

Vicky walked out of the room.

A thousand questions crowded for space in the amphitheater of my noggin. All of them were pointless in this moment.

Tony’s expression mimicked mine.

One question rose to the surface. Why was the Sheriff acting so indifferent if he knew Aidan Peale was becoming increasingly unstable?