#restless man

5:30 AM

Arlen pulls into the bank's back park lot and spots Reina sitting on an old pickup’s hood. Parking next to it, he climbs out and with hands on hips snaps, “Why the hell are we here at this ungodly hour?”

“Look who’s running a quart low on civilized this morning.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” 

“It means you’re a grumpy asshole till you get some lead in your system.” Hopping off the hood, Reina hands him a to-go cup, “So fuel up Texas.”  Arlen catches a whiff of the fresh roast bouquet and a far more civilized thank you darling slips past his lips making her eyes roll. 

“And to answer your question being here at the ass-crack of dawn ensures what we're doing doesn’t get out any time soon. Oh, by the way, I flunked charm school so nothing stops me from being an asshole darling.”

***

The bank manager removed their key grumbling as they left. 

“Obviously, not a morning person either,” Arlen commented while pulling the large rectangular box from its cubby and placing it on the table opens its hinged lid revealing an assortment of documents. Picking up the top one he reads the contents. “This is a medical file dated almost eight months ago. Gerald started seeing a Dr. Johnson in Billings who ordered..wow, that’s a boatload of tests.”

Reina began reading over his shoulder, “This doesn’t make sense, Lala Gerald was healthy as a horse for a man his age and preferred the healer over western medicine.” Handing it to her he starts going through the others. “Found the test results. Great, it’s one of those percentages per whatever. Personally, I like the connect the dots ones.” She points to the first results. “These here are chemicals you’d normally find on a working ranch. They’re within the safe margins for exposure.” Arlen was surprised, “You know how to read this?” 

“What? You thought I was only a fabulous derrière?” 

Arlen tilted his head a certain way letting his expression say it all. “Man, you got that dad’s done with your shit look down pat!” He’s still unamused. “Okay, I worked for the mobile vet a few summers, taught me how to do work-ups on the livestock.” Reina goes back to explaining the results then pauses at the end. 

“Huh. These look like medicinals from the healer, but the lab could not identify all the plants used.” She gives Arlen a contemplative look, “You got anything on your plate this morning?”

“Nothing pressing Hoyt can’t handle. Why?” 

“I have an idea where to find out what these could be. Your truck or mine Texas?”

Montana State University

Bozeman 

“Remind me again why we drove all this way?” A tense Arlen dodges another Twalking student in the crowded corridor. “Because these people won’t know me or my family connections like in Helena. Here we are,” Reina opens the door under the Biotechnology Department sign. 

“Dr. Newsom?” The person writing on a whiteboard turns. “Hello, I’m Sheriff Beau Arlen. Dean Wilson said you might be able to help with some toxicology report results.” 

Arlen hands over the file and the doctor skims over the pages, “I take it’s the last one set marked inconclusive you’re inquiring about?” “Yes. My partner here believes they might be compounded from some types of plants?” 

Newsom seemed impressed and wrote out the information on the board then stepped back studying it. “Would you mind if I called in another colleague to consult on this?”

***

Sometime later 

“Everything all right?” Reina inquires when Arlen walks back into the room. “Hoyt was checking in.” Retaking his seat, he hears her mutter, “Some things never change.” 

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That your girlfriend can’t stand not knowing where you are, who you’re with, and when you’ll be back.” 

“Hoyt’s my undersheriff.…” “…from what I hear, under in the literal sense.” “She’s not my girlfriend or significant other so what's your problem with her?” “It’s always been her problem. Never mine.” Newsom's colleague interrupts their terse discussion. 

“Your assumptions were correct. These here,” circling a few abbreviations, “Are used in many medicinal compounds by the local native healers. Unfortunately, we cannot identify what species they come from because we can’t find any record of the source materials.”

“Hypothetical question,” Reina says, “Could their source be something the People purposely choose not to share but still retain knowledge of how to create?” Arlen shoots her a quizzical look.

“Yes, that is a possible hypothetical. We know from early expeditions writings and verbal stories passed on among native inhabitants that much of their knowledge has been lost due to time and habitats, or intentionally hidden due to subjugation and indoctrination.”

Arlen's thumbs' tapping became more intense and thirty miles down the road he suddenly detoured his vehicle, Pedro, onto a dirt track. “Umm, do you know whose road we’re on?”

“Not a damn clue! Call it Bob’s Road.”

“Hope Bob doesn’t take a shot for us trespassing.” Arlen slams on the brakes and cuts the engine before shifting in his seat to glare at her, “What with the wild goose chase?”

“Sorry, I don’t….”

 “Don’t bullshit me Reina! I want you to tell me the truth.”

“I needed confirmation.”

“Conformation of what?”

“That you weren’t in on it!” Arlen was taken aback by her insinuation. “You think I had a hand in Gerald’s death?”

“No, in its cover-up!” She climbs out slamming the door shut emphasizing how pissed she was.  “I don't know if you can be trusted AssButt!” A now equally pissed Arlen copies her.  “That why you pulled a subterfuge ‘bout being a Texas Ranger?” His question makes Reina whirl around as he continues. “I know a lotta Montanans still have this old west mentality regarding the law."

“Don’t turn this to be about me!” Reina yells stalking towards him, not stopping till she invades his personal space. "I know about your partner in Houston so let me ask you something. How'd drowning your guilt and shame in booze and other avenues work out for ya?” Arlen's eyes narrow. “Seems you ended up in the same place as every other motherfucker who takes that route. Leaving a trail of collateral damage in your wake including your family.” Arlen's low growl of Leave them outta this only makes her double down. 

“Your ex remarried some guy and moved three states away with your kid to escape the humiliation! And what did you do? You followed them up here like a dog with its tail,” Arlen surges forward, slamming his hands flat on either side of her head, pinning her against the truck's door. His heart hadn’t pounded this hard since trying his damnedest not to kill Buck Barnes for kidnapping his daughter when Reina did something most would consider not only insane but confused the hell outta him by leaning forward so close he could feel her breath caress his lips as she spoke. 

“I bet you’re weighing your options on whether to sock me or kiss me.” Arlen jerks back with such an incredulous expression it makes her chuckle, “I have that effect on people.” 

“No more bullshit Reina! Did you know what that report would say?”

“Had an inkling you helped confirm.” Reina sagged back against the door. “After I left Montana, Lala and I talked practically every day. I knew something was wrong around six months ago when he suddenly stopped video chatting.” She looked up towards the clear blue sky, “I couldn’t get leave. DPS had just sent me to the Del Rio sector to help track down cartel smugglers. You can’t fathom the shit they’re doing, what’s being covered up by the mainstream media and those fuckers in D.C.”  Reina swiped at her eyes.

“I had a few run-ins with cartel elements which was bad enough.” Arlen placed his hand on her shoulder, “I’m truly sorry you didn’t have the chance to say goodbye.” Reina nodded in gratitude, and he asked in a gentler tone, “Do you have any idea why someone would want to do away with Gerald?”

“Have you heard of the new housing development proposed north of the city?” Arlen acknowledged he has. “Did you know the day lala died, the developers submitted an impact study on expanding that small airport in Silver City?” Arlen looked confused. “Helena already has a good-sized airport...what a minute. Why would a suburb need its own airport? It wouldn’t unless it’s a guise for something bigger.”

“Like something that’ll eventually run from outside Helena’s city limits up to the foothills of the Flathead and Lewis and Clark national forests?” Arlen's brow furrowed, “Okay. Excuse me, I need a map,” he opened the passenger door and glove box retrieved one and moves to the hood. “I’m not really familiar with that area,” Reina reaches over, pointing to a smaller valley snug between the mountain ranges.

“Phase one is here. It’s proposed to expand the airport to accommodate more traffic and have its own charter service catering to the financially privileged.”

“Darling, if there’s one thing I know about people with money, they don’t like to be too far from their modern conveniences.” Reina raised an eyebrow, “Well Darling, the deal includes building a luxury resort which will increase the tax base so much it’ll price the current residents living there out so they’ll end up doing what?”

“Sell to the developers who’ll eventually build residences tailored for their clientele.” Arlen shakes his head in disbelief. “Wait, what’s in Phase Two?” Reina’s voice took on a serious note, “I need you to swear on whatever you hold sacred, you’ll keep this under wraps because I could go to jail for possessing this information.” Arlen holds out his hand, “I give you my word.” She takes his offered hand before pulling out her phone and showing him a picture of a scale model representing the future Helena Valley.

“How far would you go if one man was standing in your way of building the next metropolis?”

tbc

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Walking into the offices of Dewell & Hoyt, Jenny nodded to her partner as Denise commented, “Ohh girl, long day?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“We took the liberty of grabbing some food, figured you’d be hungry.” That made Hoyt smile, “Thank you. I missed lunch since Beau went MIA on me today.” Cassie laughed, knowing her friend too well. “Like you didn’t enjoy every minute of being in charge.” Hoyt plopped down in the chair beside her, opening a to-go container. “Wouldn’t deny that. It was a nice break from his constant chattiness. So, do either of you know anything about this meeting?” 

“Not much,” Denise responds. “When Beau called, all he said was to make sure you and Cassie were here.” They tuck into their meals, catching up on the rest of their day, when the offices' rear entrance door opens and clangs shut. Cassie and Hoyt pull their firearms as heavy footsteps come closer, and a man appears in the back room's doorway.

“Whoa!!” Arlen raises his hands. 

“Jesus Christ Beau! We could’ve shot you!” Hoyt snapped, lowering her gun. “I texted Cassie an hour ago saying I’d be coming through the back door.” Holstering her weapon, Cassie says, “The only text I got was from Kai.” Arlen pulls out his phone and frowns at the not delivered. “Must have been in a no-service area. My apologies for starting you ladies.” 

Hoyt starts, “What’s up? It’s not like you to disappear at the drop of a hat.” Cassie adds, “Don’t forget leaving vague messages and sneaking through people's back doors.” Arlen laid the manilla folders he’d brought on the desk. “Gerald Stanley left a safety deposit box in my name containing these. They have some interesting information.” 

“That’s where you’ve been all day?” Cassie asks, picking up the files and handing one to Hoyt. Arlen grabs the extra chair by Denise, who passes him a takeout box with her usual flirting. “Yes..sorta. The bank was the first stop. After we examined the boxes…”

“Who’s we?” Hoyt interrupts, making the other two women look at each other when Arlen says, “Gerald requested that his granddaughter be present when I opened the box.” 

“You took Reina Stanley!” Hoyt’s voice rose. “What the hell, Beau? I’m your undersheriff! Why didn’t you call me?” Arlen gave her a look. “The inquiry needed to be handled with discretion, and based on your reaction, you wouldn’t been able to do that with her there.”

“Okay, moving on.” Cassie says, “You found these medical records. What did you do next?” 

“We went to Montana State University and talked to a Biotechnologist before heading to Billings to see Gerald’s doctor. They said he came in with unusual symptoms, and after a battery of tests, couldn’t be certain what was happening but, off the record, thought it was poisoning.” Hoyt, annoyed but somewhat calmer, sat her file down. “Without a definitive diagnosis or other evidence, it’s all circumstantial, not enough to open an official inquiry.”

Arlen swallowed his mouthful of food. “Reina has information that I can’t disclose but points to a hypothetical scenario that could explain why someone, or ones, wanted Gerald out of the way. That’s why I wanted to meet up. Cassie,” he pulled a paper from his pocket. “Could you look into this for me? Going through official police channels might tip off whoever is involved.”

“Oh, wow. I see why you’d want to keep this quiet.” She reassured him they’d be discreet and handed it to Denise. “You do realize this also makes Reina a suspect?” 

Arlen acknowledged that before turning to his undersheriff, “So Hoyt, you miss me today?”

“Ha! You wish.”

Arlen is on the phone four days later when he hears a knock on his door. He sees Cassie Dewell standing there and waves her in wrapping up his conversation. “Sounds good. Thanks for letting me know.” Hanging up, he turns his full attention to her. “Hey, Cassie, got something for me?”

“Denise spoke to a cousin-in-law who works in the state capital offices about that info you gave us. They said, off the record, several months ago, Gerald dropped by to see the governor without an appointment. By the time he left, they had put the Silver City expansion scheme on hold until the department had sufficient information about the environmental impact on some type of lizard living there.”

“Wow, I had no idea Gerald had that kind of pull but smart, using good old bureaucratic red tape.” Cassie raised an eyebrow. “One more thing: the cousin said besides the out-of-state developers, a subsidiary contractor under the Stanley umbrella is involved.” 

Arlen got his confused expression. “Wait a minute, he had one of his contractors stopped? That doesn’t make sense. So we’ve got,” Arlen held up a finger, “One out-of-state developer, who I’m sure is very angry about the delay after investing time and money into this project.” 

Cassie adds, “Two, the subsidiary contractor also heavily invested. Three, other businesses in the area who would’ve benefited from providing goods and services during the development. Four, landowners that were going to make a hefty profit from selling their property.”

“And five,” Arlen says, “The Stanleys themselves.” He grabs his football, squeezing it frustrated. “We’ve got way too many suspects.”

“I agree. I want to speak to Reina,” Cassie said knowingly, "Since she’s the one who gave you the information.” Getting up, Arlen followed her out of his office. “Maybe Gerald said something she considered irrelevant that could help narrow the list.”

“You do realize she’s still a suspect. Reina might’ve fed us that information to throw us off the trail because she’s the one who orchestrated Gerald’s death.” 

“I don’t think so,” Poppernak said as they walked by and stopped at his desk. “You know something, Pops?” The deputy responded. “Maybe. I remember some gossip about Gerald forcing Holland to give him custody of Reina. Cody would’ve known...”

“Mo!” Cassie’s interruption of the overly talkative deputy was too late and saw bewilderment cross Arlen’s face as he spit out, flabbergasted.

“Cody Hoyt?” 

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