Bitter Creek by Peter Bowen Page A

sad for a paper,” said Du Pré.
    â€œIt is not over yet,” said Pallas.
    â€œBe careful,” said Pidgeon, patting her.
    A big coyote sped across the road in front of them, after a jackrabbit. The rabbit ran flat out past some sagebrush and another coyote took up the chase. The first coyote stopped and panted.
    â€œRun him in a circle till he wears out,” said Pallas.
    â€œI will help in any way that I can,” said Bart.
    â€œThank you,” said Du Pré.
    â€œAmerica,” said Pidgeon, “land of the free, home of the brave. …”
    They stopped for gas at a roadhouse at a crossroads. The gasoline was well over three dollars a gallon. Du Pré filled both tanks and paid with a hundred-dollar bill and he got six dollars back.
    They pulled into Toussaint at six, and Du Pré parked in front of the Toussaint Saloon.
    They got out of the truck and went in.
    Pallas ran ahead and she jumped into Susan Klein’s arms. They hugged and laughed.
    â€œMy, you have grown,” said Susan, who was not tall.
    â€œSea air,” said Pallas.
    The ranch folk at the tables grinned and Pallas went round to say hello to them.
    Bart and Pidgeon and Du Pré got up on stools.
    â€œI am back here,” said Madelaine, “cooking, what you want?”
    Pallas went to the kitchen; there were shouts and then laughter.
    The television was on but the sound was not, Susan’s firm rule. The day’s budget of horrors crept across the bottom of the screen, the words often misspelled.
    â€¦ three hundred dead in Iraq in the past week, mostly women and children … fifteen soldiers killed by roadside bombs …
    Pallas came out of the kitchen and she sat by Du Pré.
    They all had cheeseburgers and fries.
    â€œNothing as good as these,” said Pallas.
    â€œYou have to grind your own meat,” said Susan Klein. “Stuff you get elsewhere has a lot of cardboard in it.”
    Benny Klein came in. He sat on a stool next to Du Pré. “So I get this call from the Manitoba Provincial Police and I says, well, I got this stolen car ree-port made two a.m. last Saturday. Doo Pray was playin’ for about two hundred folks in the bar you know, so …”
    Du Pré waited.
    â€œThey said you had time get another car get there,” said Benny. “I said I thought it was that car was done seen there, there was this long silence. …”
    Benny sipped his beer.
    â€œâ€˜Her granddaughter is known to us,’ said this cop, ‘I think that is where we need to look. …’”

Chapter 10
    â€œYOU ARE USED TO SCREWING confessions out of bad people,” said Du Pré.
    â€œTrue,” said Pidgeon, “in my stellar career with the FBI, I did just that. But there are ways and ways of interviewing people, Du Pré, and I have had a lot more practice than you have. …”
    â€œShe is right,” said Chappie. “You look at this map, Du Pré, of the country there. Ver’ big. If she could just remember where they were before they started running. We got four Métis trails there. Two of them, dip down into the Missouri Breaks, she was on one of those it might be underwater, them bones. …”
    Du Pré nodded.
    â€œI’m not going to be mean to Amalie,” said Pidgeon. “She is a lovely person. She is not the one who did the crime. Other people did that. I’ve interviewed a lot of victims, too, Du Pré, many, many. …”
    â€œShe is right,” said Madelaine.
    â€œSo I need to do this alone,” said Pidgeon, “but I need to have you introduce me. …”
    Du Pré stood up.
    He and Pidgeon went out to the nice new old cruiser Bart had just given Du Pré. To annoy Du Pré further, he had sprayed new-car scent in it, the aerosol car dealers use.
    â€œIt’ll stink of bad tobacco and good whiskey in no time,” said Pidgeon.
    Du Pré drove out to