“What’s in those cages?” I asked.
“Mink or silver fox. Mostly mink around here. Some people from South Dare muck out the cages for a living.”
The tires swished through a deep puddle, spraying muddy water on either side. Then the pavement ended and the gravel road’s potholes rocked the car. Bare maple saplings and scrubby brush hugged the road until we passed a swamp where rotted trees poked up through the rippling water.
We turned right onto a dirt track full of boulders and water-filled ruts. Gravel popped under the tires. Weedy-looking trees and brush closed in around us until we reached a clearing where an ugly two-storey house with a crooked picture window loomed over three shacks and a trailer. A massive rusting satellite dish stood next to the house.
“What’s going on?” I braked to a stop. “I thought we were supposed to meet the IDENT guy, what’s his name.”
“First, we’re going to see the unofficial mayor of South Dare.”
A couple of snarling dogs greeted us until a man with a bushy lion’s mane of shoulder-length hair called them inside.
Will opened the door without knocking, and the first thing that hit me was the humid smell of beer, stale sweat and dog feces. The picture window had black curtains blocking most of the light, so it took my eyes a few moments to adjust. It looked like a makeshift tavern instead of a living room. The room had about six white plastic tables and at least twenty chairs. Bluish light flickered from a big-screen TV.
At one table sat Gordon Dare and another man whom Will introduced as Rex Dare, Gordon’s younger brother. He wore a nylon mesh sleeveless undershirt, his hairy chest and arms sporting green tattoos of dragons, skulls and naked women.
Was this Reginald “Rex” Dare, the man I’d read about this morning who had been charged with satanic ritual abuse three years earlier? Catherine had said that incest ran rampant in these poverty-stricken isolated communities. Was this the man who’d orchestrated the abuse of his own children? I tried to keep my face from showing my disgust.
Rex bared big yellow teeth in a smile. “So, this is the new constable. Welcome to South Dare.” His left eye focused on me while his right eye wandered. He had a few days’ worth of stubble on his chin.
Will strode around the room. “Didn’t see you at the fire, Rex. You never showed up to admire your big blaze.”
“You have a warrant?” Rex’s good eye glinted. When he sipped his beer his bushy moustache brushed the foam. Gordon leered at me.
“Don’t need a warrant to ask questions.” Will opened the curtain hanging in the doorway to the adjoining room. Beyond I could see a storeroom containing stacks of cardboard boxes full of beer, packages of chips and cigarette cartons. I didn’t need a degree in rocket science to figure Rex was a bootlegger.
Will peered into the storeroom. “Why are you trying to burn the pastor out?”
“Sit down. Relax.” Rex kicked a chair toward him. Will came around and stood next to me. Rex gestured with his thumb and Gordon fetched two beers from an old fridge in the corner, clutching them with his deformed fingers. He twisted off their caps and pushed them toward us. The blue light of the TV flickered and out of the corner of my eye I saw the white curvaceous forms of two naked women writhing together.
“Turn that off,” Will ordered, “or I’ll arrest you for pirating that signal.”
Rex clicked the remote to a shopping network, then sipped his beer and wiped his moustache with the back of his hand. “What I hear, the man set his own house on fire.”
“You gotta do better than that,” Will said. “I could have a warrant in no time and be all over you like a bad smell.”
“Hey, I’m being for real here. My nephew Alan was out checking his rabbit snares yesterday morning and he seen the pastor in his front yard with a baseball bat. He seen him break his living room window and throw in a cocktail.”
Will grimaced. “Aggie’s son? Come on.”
Rex turned to me. “You’re way too beautiful to be a cop. You must have all them other Mounties in a frenzy.”
Gordon flicked his pink tongue at me.
“Stop it, Gordon!” Rex shifted toward me in the white plastic chair. “She’s a lady.” He puffed out his chest like a peacock fanning his tail. “You married?”
I narrowed my eyes. “We’ll get a statement from your nephew.”
“Do I stand a chance with you, gorgeous?” Rex grinned.
He radiated sexual magnetism that made my blood fizz like acid.
Will caught my eye and made a subtle gesture toward the door with his head. It bugged me that he was calling all the shots, but I wasn’t going to complain about it in front of Rex and Gordon. In unison, Will and I strode to the door. When Will pulled it open, sunlight flooded the room.
Holding the door open for me Will twisted to face Rex. “We’ll be seeing you. And I’ll have a warrant.”
“You come anytime, sweetheart,” Rex grinned. “I’m happy to answer the lovely young lady’s questions.”
I hesitated in the doorway, but Will prodded me outside. The noonday sun was blinding.
“That pastor, he’s got a thing for kids!” Rex shouted after me. “He’s a child molester. Some of the women want to make complaints.” Will positioned his large form in the door frame, his thick hand clutching the grimy woodwork.
I poked my head back into the room. “Which women?” I asked.
Will did not lower his arm. How dare he use his physical size to try to keep me from doing my job. I saw a vision of myself breaking his arm with a karate chop.
“Trudy Cranwell, for one.” Rex tipped his beer bottle up to drain the last sip, watching us with his good eye.
Will grabbed my elbow and nudged me away from the door with his hip.
“Trudy? You’re not fooling anyone.” Will let the door close.
Hey, I want to ask more questions! I brushed by him and reached for the doorknob, but he grabbed my elbow again.
I jerked it out of his grasp. “I’m going back in!”
“If you want to stay out here alone, be my guest.” He spun and lumbered down the rocky path to the car.
I glared at him as he circled it, checking the tires probably to see if one of the locals had slashed them. I’ve got the keys, buster! When I’d calmed myself down enough to no longer see myself drop-kicking him to the dirt, I marched down the path and confronted him over the roof of the car. “Who is Trudy Cranwell?”
“Don’t go there,” Will growled. “Rex is trying to confuse you.”
“I’m not the one who’s confused.”
The pupils in Will’s eyes shrank to pinpricks. “Rex Dare is dog dung. He molests his own children.” The muscles in his jaw flexed.
“What’s up with grabbing my elbow back there?”
“Give me the keys, or open the door!” Teeth clenched, he looked away, took his hat off, and ran his fingers through his hair. Anger mottled his cheeks with red. He checked his watch. In a more conciliatory tone he said, “Charlie from IDENT is waiting.”
Silently counting to ten, I fumbled with the key and unlocked the doors.
While driving slowly around the potholes and boulders in the Dare’s rutted laneway I observed Will out of the corner of my eye. He looked straight ahead, his face still red, his