“Randy Wells? Yes. As talkative and obnoxious as ever. His hobby is goading the teetotalers, and the most pious among them can’t resist the bait. It results in some lively give-and-take.”

“He hasn’t told you who he buys his whiskey from?”

“It remains his secret.”

“Dammit, Chester, I want to know who it is.”

“Well, the choices are limited to either one of the Johnsons or to someone in our organization.”

“Or it’s a lone wolf who’s selling cheaper and undercutting all of us.”

“In other words, someone not playing by the rules as set by you.”

“You’re damn right.”

Landry chuckled. “Should we try to unionize?”

“I’m thinking more of monopolizing.”

Chester raised his brows. “Hmm. An interesting prospect.”

“It would be good for everybody.”

“Especially you.”

“And you.”

Landry conceded that with another languid gesture and sly smile.

“Get me the identity of this Randy’s source.”

“I’m working on it.”

Chester’s smile remained in place, but his voice suddenly had a bite, and that didn’t sit well with Bernie. The bootlegger was a necessary evil, but Bernie never would allow him to get the upper hand. He feared that most of Landry’s posturing was just that: posturing. He wasn’t nearly as insouciant as he pretended to be.

“These things require finessing, Bernie,” he said, speaking smoothly again. “I can’t press Randy on it, or seem overeager, and he doesn’t want to reveal his source because he’s acting as his own middleman. I’m not his only customer. For every jar he sells, he jacks up the price and takes a cut for himself.”

“Everybody and his dog takes a cut.”

“If you don’t like the system, you should have invested in another enterprise.”

“As it is now, the system is taking money out of my pocket.”

The gold tooth flashed. “But by anyone’s standards, they’re still awfully deep pockets.”

Bernie grumbled in response, then said, “It takes only one hotshot like your pal Randy to put all of us in jeopardy. Advise him to keep his fat mouth shut.”

“I’ll put it more diplomatically, but consider the problem of Randy’s loquaciousness solved.” With that, he shot his cuffs and straightened his cuff link. “Anything happening toward finding that missing woman?”

“Nothing.”

“How’s the doctor getting on?”

“He isn’t. He’s holed up in his house. He hasn’t resumed seeing patients.” Bernie didn’t add that he wanted to throttle the man. Gabe was a veritable wreck. He needed to be brought up to snuff. Soon.

“What was his missus like?”

“You’re speaking in the past tense.”

Chester shrugged negligently.

Bernie said, “She had butter-colored curls, a round, rosy face, and big jugs. A fraulein. So anybody with an axe to grind against the Germans could have wished her harm. Including our sheriff. He lost a son to the war.”

“He’s cleared Hutton as a suspect.”

“He hasn’t cleared anybody.” Frustrated, Bernie got up and moved to the window again. “Speaking of.” Across the street, Hutton was engaged in conversation with Irv Plummer’s daughter-in-law.

Chester joined him at the window. “Who’s she?”

Bernie filled the bootlegger in on what he knew about the woman’s history and described the scene that had taken place in the sheriff’s office. “Stunned us all that she and Hutton had met, but she backed up everything he had told us about his random arrival here.”

“Well, then,” Chester said, “I don’t think we need to worry about him working undercover.”

“I worry,” the mayor said. “I live here. I don’t flit in and out like you do.”

“Flit?” Landry said, taking umbrage. “Don’t forget that I represent a line of quality women’s shoes. I have a vast sales territory to cover.”

Bernie snorted. “Shoes.”

“Shoes. Just today, I arm-twisted Hancock into placing his largest order yet. It’s not like I come here to relax and enjoy the quaintness of the boardinghouse.”

Down below, Thatcher Hutton was helping the recent widow with something on the back of her auto. Bernie thoughtfully fingered the chain on his pocket watch. “How’s he act around the other boarders?”

“Polite but not engaging. Keeps his head down. Never offers an opinion unless asked, and then he hedges.”

“What do they say about him?”

“They’re split down the middle. Half think he was the victim of circumstance and wrongly accused. The other half aren’t so sure. But they all agree on one point. No one wants to cross him.”

“Has he made a single friend?”

“No.”

“Does he socialize at all?”

“He’s played cards a couple of times.”

“And won big.”

Landry looked at Bernie with surprise. “How did you know?”

“He told the sheriff he had a knack.” The mayor turned his head and met the bootlegger’s gaze. “A knack for reading people.”

“An enviable talent.”

“A problematic one.” Through the window, Bernie focused again on their subject. “When we startled him awake in the boardinghouse, he came up out of that bed as though he’d been catapulted.”

“It was quite a commotion,” Landry said. “I’m on the second floor. I was afraid the ceiling would collapse.”

“It took five of us to subdue him. And have you heard about the rattler?” Chester hadn’t. Bernie related the story that had been circulating. “He doesn’t get flustered. He fights with ferocity and shoots with awe-inspiring skill.”

“He’s a surprise to you, Bernie. That’s all.”

“I hate surprises. I’m not discounting that he’s more than an ordinary cowboy, which is why I’m going to keep a close eye on Mr. Thatcher Hutton. And, if you’re as smart as I think you are, Chester, you will, too. In fact,” he said, smiling, “the man is in want of a friend.”