Chapter 42
I said, “Where on Earth did you get these wheels?”
Trilling grinned. “One of the advantages of having a car lot is getting to pick a different car to drive every day. My brother deals with a lot of military members, and they like the old muscle cars. He really appreciates you coming out and thought you should be driven in classic style.” He even squealed the tires for me on our way out of the parking lot.
As we drove, Trilling filled me in on everything that had happened, and I gazed out the window. The area around Bozeman seemed like a nice place to visit. A lot of trendy restaurants and Yellowstone souvenir shops.
I heard the theme to Green Acres and reached into my pocket. It was Juliana calling. I picked up immediately.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I was just wondering if you’d landed in Montana and seen Rob yet?”
“He’s chauffeuring me right now in a very classy Chevy Chevelle Super Sport.”
Juliana said, “I’m not exactly sure what a Chevelle Super Sport is, but I assume it’s a car. Since he’s driving, can you put your phone on speaker?”
Trilling immediately perked up at the sound of Juliana’s voice.
They both said hello, but it was guarded, and I realized it was because I was sitting in the middle of their conversation.
Juliana said, “Katie is going on a job interview at an office in Midtown Manhattan. I told her I’d go with her.
It’s a tech company called Virtual Spaces.
She’s being interviewed for some kind of maintenance/housekeeping job.
We practiced a few simple phrases she can use during the interview that show off her English skills. ”
After we all spoke for a few more minutes, Juliana said, “I haven’t heard much from you, Rob.”
“I texted.”
“Hmm.”
I recognized that tone and wanted to throw Trilling a lifeline. I knew he was in over his head.
He managed to mumble, “Sorry.”
“I forgive you, but you’d better keep in touch.” Juliana also made sure Trilling understood that it would mean a lot to her if he made if back home in time to see her in the play.
I nodded vigorously, hoping Trilling would catch on.
He did. “I promise I’ll call more often, and I’m looking forward to seeing your show.”
That seemed to satisfy my daughter. As we wrapped up our conversation, Juliana said, “I hope that you two are able to fix whatever problem is going on with the car lot. But I mainly hope that both of you will be careful.”
I said, “I hope we are too.”
Outside of Bozeman, I noticed the city limits for Palm Island posted on an official Department of Transportation sign at the side of the road. Apparently, Rob Trilling’s great-grandfather had done everything right to make sure the state acknowledged the independent nature of the town.
After driving through Bozeman, this place really did seem barren.
There was a light-blue water tower in the distance with a splashy, cursive font saying “Palm Island.” Very few cars moved along the well-maintained roads.
There was an assortment of small businesses, but I could see the fire-damaged car lot almost at the center of the town.
As Trilling took a corner and rumbled into the lot, I noticed a black Humvee with California tags parked by the ruins of the office.
Trilling said, “That’s Arnold Marks’s car. I figured he’d show up at some point to try and play on my brother’s doubts. I just didn’t expect him so quickly.”
“Where are the two of them? They can’t be in the office,” I said, glancing at the ruined building. I turned my head to see the entire lot, which held about forty vehicles, including a couple of larger vans.
We got out of the Chevelle, and I walked around the remains of the office. On the opposite side was a pen with a white llama, standing there looking around.
I said, “Your brother has a llama? Why?”
“He says it started as a sales gimmick, but he really loves that thing now. You should see how he pampers it. He’s named it Fido.”
I reached out to touch Fido’s neck and the llama’s head snapped toward me—and spit. It also made an odd hissing sound.
I almost shouted, “What the hell!” Luckily it came out as more of a harsh whisper.
Trilling was still looking around the lot.
“I’m getting a little nervous. I hope that asshole from LA didn’t do something stupid.
” He started jogging through the lot. I decided to go in the opposite direction to cover more ground.
It felt odd to be looking for danger without having any way to protect myself.
I made my way around the burned-out office, then met up with Trilling on the other side.
I looked at my partner. “Any ideas?”
He shook his head. “No. Gary should be here.”
Now I was feeling anxious. Then I got hold of myself.
What kind of kidnapper—or killer—would leave his vehicle parked at the scene of the crime?
On the other hand, as soon as that thought crossed my mind, I also reminded myself that not everyone thought things through rationally.
The owner of this Humvee might’ve snapped.
Or he could be intimidating Gary Trilling at another location.
This wasn’t a good start to my visit.