High Country Nocturne - [29]

“So what’s his angle?”

“I wish I knew. He said there’s been a new development. He wouldn’t tell me what until I had studied the file he gave me. This happened literally three hours ago.”

I had so lost track of time that probably wasn’t “literally” true. Close enough. I wasn’t grading freshman essays.

She put her hands on her hips.

“I want to know what it is.”

“I’ll tell you when I find out. You should be more concerned about Melton trying to grab publicity by horning in on your case.”

She nodded, went over and muted the television, then sat back down and reopened her portfolio. All the damaged tissue in my face silently groaned.

“I want to go back through this,” she said. “So this woman pulled a gun from an ankle holster.”

“That’s what it looked like.”

“Why didn’t she shoot you?”

“I had my.38 on her. She saw it and ran. Or maybe she heard the neighbor call from the porch and didn’t want to risk a witness.”

“So she ran through the opening in the wall and shot Lindsey. Why?”

I thought about that and told her she knew Lindsey was my wife. And Lindsey was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Hmm.” She closed the pad again. Her voice shifted cadence and what came next almost sounded like an afterthought.

“Lindsey lost her sister in a shooting.”

“Robin.” I stared at the wall texture.

“And the woman who murdered Robin is doing life now because you happened to be driving down Maryland Avenue a few days later and identified her…”

I knew and she strongly suspected that was only part of the truth.

Vare didn’t know that I had been about to execute the woman who killed Robin when my cell phone rang, the screen had said “Lindsey,” and the few better angels I had left by that time stopped me.

Some days I still regretted letting her live. On those days, days like today, I was on the knife’s edge, justice had not been done and I sure as hell was not noble.

Robin. And now Lindsey…

Vare leaned in and whispered, “The women in your life have bad luck, huh?”

It took every bit of self-control to not leap over and strangle her.

I said, “I want my wife to have protection, twenty-four hours…”

“I already told you.” She rose and started to leave. But after two steps she turned and came back, stabbing her index finger in my chest, right about where the bullet entered Lindsey. “Stay the hell out of my investigation, Mapstone. If I find you using that badge to play vengeful husband, I swear to God, I’ll ram my fist so far up your ass, I’ll make you pay for breathing.”

She stomped away. She weighed a hundred pounds wet but she was a good stomper.

My anger breached the levees and I yelled after her, “Then find who did this, Kate…” But she was already in the hall and gone.

I touched the point of pain she had left on my sternum and thought of Lindsey.

I looked up and Vare was standing over me.

She cleared her throat and spoke slowly. “I’m sorry, Mapstone.”

I started to say, “Don’t worry about it,” but she talked over the first syllable.

“It was uncalled for. Look, I’ve got a new boss. He talks a good corporate game but I don’t think he’s ever gotten his handcuffs dirty. City Council wants to cut our pay and take away our pensions. It’s shitty all over. All I’m asking is, don’t make my job harder.”

When she had wound down, I nodded. “Fair enough.”

She patted my shoulder, an astounding gesture of rapport for her, and cocked her head.

“What kind of leather did your DPS officer wear?”

I closed my eyes and tried to remember. It had been dark. The gun had held most of my attention.

“Webbed,” I said finally. “She wore a webbed equipment belt.”

“Then she was fake,” Vare said. “DPS wears plain Safariland leather.”

Five minutes later, Melton appeared at the doorway. Four gold stars gleamed from the collars of his crisp black uniform. I was up and headed toward him. He must have seen the blood in my eyes so he stepped forward and hugged me.

The son of a bitch hugged me.

I didn’t hug back.

“We’re going to get this shooter, David. Don’t you worry about that.”

He studied me. “You’re covered with blood. Can I have someone bring you a change of clothes?”

I stepped back, wishing the blood hadn’t dried, wishing it could have stained his immaculate uniform. I thought of Jackie Kennedy after the assassination, when she had worn that bloodstained suit all the way from Dallas to Washington. “Let them see what they’ve done,” she said.

I said, “Why do you care about a woman you called a traitor?”

“David, you’re overwrought. Do you have kids?”

“We don’t have children.”

He looked at me like an alien being, then tried to smile sympathetically.

“Take a few days. Then look into the case. You’re going to need the distraction.”

My hand made a fist and I forced myself to relax, open up each finger.

“She’s in good hands.” He clapped me on the shoulders. His eyes swept the room and settled on the Hispanic family at the other end.

“My God, they cost so much. Our health care, our schools. I bet they’re illegals and we could arrest them right now.”

Yes, and some resort would lose its housekeeper who worked a second job as a fry cook at another business. I kept my response simple. “Leave them alone.” And almost gagging, I added, “Sheriff.”