“I’m always on duty but that doesn’t mean I can’t occasionally dress like a girl, Robie.”
He lifted his glass. “I’m not saying otherwise. You look great.”
“Thank you,” she said primly.
A twinge of guilt hit Robie sharply enough to make him look away momentarily. He didn’t like holding the truth of Holly’s death from her sister, but they had made a deal with the FBI, and Robie couldn’t jeopardize that investigation. Not even when his gut was telling him to pull Malloy into another room and tell her everything.
“You okay?” she asked.
He looked back at her. “Sorry, just preoccupied.”
“I called a buddy of mine in New York. I told him about the creds you and your partner are carrying. You know what he said?”
“No, but I think you’re going to tell me.”
“He said that those sound like cred packs Feds use to cover up who they really are. And that people who do that are ones who have serious firepower back in DC.”
“Okay.”
“Is that an admission?”
“No, that was just me saying ‘okay.’”
“Bender talked to Patti. She didn’t have any insights on the white van. I mean we have them around here, but the ones I know about are used by contractors, subs…you know, plumbers and electricians. I know them all, and they’re not going to be involved in human trafficking.”
“So we really need to find Lamarre, if he’s still alive.”
“You really believe he saw what he said he did?”
“Why would he lie about something like that?”
“He probably wouldn’t,” she conceded.
“And the fact that he vanished right after telling his girlfriend he basically wanted to settle down with her and left his stuff behind?”
“You think whoever he saw got to him?”
“Sounds that way to me.”
“So she said he disappeared around the same time that Roger Walton did?”
“A few days earlier than Walton.”
“But he obviously saw the people in the van a while back. I mean he went into rehab in between that, when he talked to Holly.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“So what happened to change the status of things?”
“You mean if he was safe for a while and then they snatched him, something changed. The people had to find out he knew something and needed to be taken care of.”
“Right. And how would they have done that?”
“Well, he told his girlfriend about it. She might have told someone, although she denies that she did. He also told your sister about it. And we know she told JC Parry. And Parry probably told Walton. And they both disappeared.”
“You mean all three. I’ve tried Holly’s phone. I‘ve e-mailed and texted and gotten nothing. Now, she’s not the most communicative person in the world, but that’s not like her.”
“I imagine not, ” said Robie.
“You think I’ll hear from her at some point?”
Robie looked immensely uncomfortable. “I don’t know.”
Malloy sighed. “Family. I came all this way to help her and I don’t think I helped her at all.”
“Sometimes, people just need to help themselves, Sheriff.”
“I’m off duty. So please, call me Valerie.”
“Okay, Valerie.”
He glanced over to see Reel in animated conversation with Derrick Bender, who, Robie thought, was standing a little too close to her, though Reel didn’t seem to mind. She laughed at something he said.
The hairs on the back of Robie’s neck rose a bit.
“You okay?”
He glanced back at Malloy and her empty glass. “You want a refill on that? Bar’s this way.”
A few minutes later Robie found himself talking to Patti Bender.
“We asked around but no one knows anything about Walton, or prisoners in a van,” she said. “Or if they do they’re not talking about it.”
Robie sipped his wine and nodded slowly. “It may be a combination of ignorance and deceit.”
“I know most of these people,” said Patti. “I doubt they have it in them to keep something like that secret.”
“I appreciate your asking around.”
“Any word on Holly and Luke?”
“No,” said Robie. “Nothing.”
“Maybe they got out of here then,” said Patti with a wistful look.
“Is that your goal? I thought you liked it here.”
“I do. But the world’s a big place. I’d like to see some of it before my time’s up.”
“You’re still young, Patti.”
“I’m not that young. I’ll be forty soon. But around here, you always feel older than you really are.”
“Your mom seems really cool.”
“She is. And I’d miss seeing her.”
“And your dad? Is he still around?”
“No,” she said firmly. “He’s not.”
Robie was about to say something else when the door opened and a tall, lean man with a full head of silver hair walked in. He was dressed in a dark suit with a pocket kerchief and a white shirt, open at the collar. His face was deeply tanned. He looked to be in his late fifties.
“Roark,” said Claire, going over to him and bussing his cheek with her lips.
“Claire, how do you manage to get younger and more gorgeous every time I see you?”
“I knew there was a reason I invited you tonight.” To Robie and Reel, she said, “This is Roark Lambert.”
Robie said, “You rented out the cabin to Roger Walton.”
Lambert nodded. “Claire told me what had happened. I think one reason she invited me tonight was so you could ask me questions.”
“We all want Roger back,” said Claire. “And as quickly as possible.”
They went in to dinner, which was served around a large table in the middle of what had to be the library, given the number of books on the shelves.
Lambert was seated in between Robie and Reel.
As the food was served and they began to eat, Robie said, “So Walton had rented from you before?”
“Several times. I own a number of cabins in the area. It’s a nice business. Never going to get rich doing just that, but it’s positive cash flow.”
“Did you ever meet Walton?” asked Reel.
“A few times, yeah. Once here at Claire’s. I’m from Denver and don’t spend much time out here. He was tight-lipped about himself. I sensed he had some high-stress job and just liked to get away from it all. This is a good place to do that.”
“How’d you end up owning rental cabins out here?” asked Robie.
“Well, Denver’s not all that far away. And my father was born right across the border in Nebraska. When I was a kid, we would come through here on the way to visit his parents. There’s not much out here, but it has its charms. And if you like to fish, bird-watch, take photos, or do some hunting, this isn’t a bad place to be. I made some money in private equity and have now deployed it in real estate.”
“So the rentals are your business?” asked Robie.
“Not my main business, no. Just a sideline. I’ve got my fingers in lots of pies. But what I’m focused on now is luxury prepping.”
Robie and Reel looked at him strangely. Robie said, “I don’t know what that means.”
“You’ve heard of preppers, surely?”
Robie shook his head but Reel said, “You mean people getting ready for doomsday?”
“Well, at least for civil unrest and social upheaval,” amended Lambert. “Doomsday Preppers is a show on the National Geographic Channel. Hell, it turned out to be the most popular show they ever had. So the interest in Armageddon is there. Some folks call it WROL, meaning Without Rule of Law. Others just call it SHTF.” He grinned. “Shit Hitting the Fan. There are lots of problems out there. The social fabric is increasingly fragile. So people stock up on food, water, guns. They have survival shelters or plans w
hen things go to hell. Some are just like cargo containers buried about twelve feet down with water and air capabilities. Nothing too fancy, but it’s some protection.”
“But you said ‘luxury’ preppers,” pointed out Reel.
Lambert took a sip of his wine. “Right. There’s no money in ordinary preppers. They get their stuff from the stores or online. But for those who can afford it, there are opportunities for profit. A lot of profit.”
“How?” asked Robie.
Malloy, who was seated across from them and had been listening said, “Secure facilities when everything goes to hell.”
“And where would that be?” asked Robie.
Lambert said, “In a former Atlas ballistic nuclear missile silo. I’ve finished two, one here in Colorado. I missed out on another one in the area. But I’ve got another silo done in Kansas. And I’m developing several more.”
“Missile silos?” said Robie.
Lambert nodded. “They were decommissioned a long time ago and the government has been selling them off. At first you’d wonder what the hell to do with them. But then, when you combine the point one percenters’ cash with the world looking increasingly shaky, you have a wonderful answer. You take an already hardened facility in the middle of nowhere and you turn it into luxury living. Then the very rich have a place to go to and be safe when everything goes to hell.”
“And if it doesn’t go to hell?” asked Reel.
Lambert shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to these folks. They have homes all over the world. The silo condo—that’s what they are, by the way, each floor is comprised of condos—is just insurance for them. They probably never want to use it because that means the civilized world is no more. And they’re apt to lose a lot more of their wealth, if that’s the case. You know, stock markets tank, gated communities and high-dollar properties are overrun by the masses. But at least if they come to the silo they’ll get to live. Then when things quiet down, they can come out and pick up the pieces.’
“Sounds very egalitarian,” noted Reel sarcastically.
“Hey, I grew up poor,” said Lambert. “And while I make good money now, I’m not at the financial level of the people who have bought space in my silos. But there was a need in the market and I filled that need. Business one-oh-one.”
“So those who can pay get to stay nice and cozy in the lap of luxury while the rest of us fight it out on the outside?” said Malloy.
Lambert eyed her. “Look, Valerie, you and I have had this discussion before. I don’t make the rules. I don’t want doomsday to happen. But if it does, I’ve provided a service for folks who can afford it. It’s like catastrophic insurance.”
“Not exactly,” said Malloy, “but I won’t push the point.”
He raised his wineglass to her and smiled. “Appreciate it kindly, ma’am.”
“So there are silos around here?” asked Reel.
“There are five former Atlas E missile sites in Colorado alone,” replied Lambert. “They’re in the northern plains, Larimer and Weld Counties. There are others scattered across the country. The ones here were decommissioned in the sixties and the missiles removed. Before they can be put up for sale they have to be investigated and cleared from an environmental perspective, of course. Some are being developed as luxury residences, some for commercial purposes, and some are still owned by the government. They can be used for storage or just sit there rusting away.”
Claire joined them as Lambert finished speaking.
“I hope Roark isn’t boring you to death about his doomsday business,” she said brightly.
“It’s actually quite fascinating,” said Robie.
“Rich people escaping into their hidey-holes,” retorted Claire.
“Now, Claire,” began Lambert.
“Did he tell you about the billionaires building their own rockets and spaceships?” said Claire, her smile broadening. “They say it’s to colonize Mars or charge people for a ride in space, but I have an alternative theory.”
“Which is?” said Reel.
“Escaping into space, of course. No luxury bunker will do for them. They require an entirely new planet on which to ride out the chaos down here.”
“Sounds like they’re playing God,” said Reel.
“There’s no doubt about it,” said Claire. “They are playing God. And they’re quite comfortable doing so.”
Robie turned to Lambert. “Where is the silo you’ve completed in Colorado?”
“About an hour’s drive north of here. Would you like to see it?”
“I’m not sure we’re going to have time,” said Robie. “We’re a little busy right now.”
Lambert shrugged. “Suit yourself. I only offered because Claire told me about Roger Walton.”
“I’m not getting the connection,” said Reel.
“Well, I know the man has disappeared. But before he did he asked me to give him a tour of the silo. And I did.”
Reel looked at Robie and then turned back to Lambert. “Did he say why he wanted a tour?”
“He said he’d been here when the Atlas was operational and had always wanted to go inside. Back then, of course, he couldn’t.”
“When exactly was this?” asked Robie.
Lambert told them.
Robie and Reel exchanged another look. It had been shortly before Blue Man had disappeared, and after he had visited Holly at rehab.
Reel said, “On second thought, we’d love to take a tour.”
“Great. I’m not going back to Denver for a few days, so how about tomorrow?”
“Sounds good,” said Reel.
“Count me in,” said Malloy.
They all looked at her before Lambert glanced at Robie and Reel.
“Maybe you two would be interested in purchasing a condo. I’ve got two units left in the other silo I’m currently building out. The one I’ll be showing you tomorrow is sold out.”
An unsmiling Reel said, “I think we’ll be part of the barbarians on the outside trying to get in.”
“Well, good luck with that,” said Lambert.
“It’s never about luck,” said Reel.
Chapter
37
“THERE HAS TO be a connection,” said Reel.
They were standing in the lobby of the hotel.
She continued. “Blue Man wouldn’t just go on a tour of the silo after he’d heard what Holly had to say unless it was connected.”
Robie slowly nodded. “I agree. Presumably Lambert has been working on this silo for years, and Blue Man has been coming back here all that time. So he could have gone to the silo lots of times. But he picked that time period to do it.”
“What do you think he was looking for there?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he knew more than we do. We’ll just have to keep our eyes and ears open tomorrow.”
“You have time for a drink?”
They turned to see Malloy walking into the lobby. She came to stand next to Robie. “Well?” she said, looking only at him.
Reel said, “I’m hitting the sack.” She glanced at Robie. “Busy day tomorrow. We have to be at our best.”
Malloy continued to stare at Robie. “How about you?”
When Robie didn’t answer right away, Reel turned on her heel and headed for the stairs. Robie watched her go for a few seconds and then looked at Malloy.
“Okay,” he said.