The Oxycontin was working already. I could feel the buzz, but I was not drowsy like I had been with the morphine drip. The pain was still present, but it was in the background, like it was hiding inside a closet.
“It feels like…like everything is moving too fast. I was tied up and beaten and it feels like it all happened just this morning.”
“We don’t have to talk about his now, you know.”
“I think I need to.”
Sandy sat on the edge of the bed and put her hand in mine. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”
“I’m not really sure. I think there might be a lot I don’t remember. In fact, most of it is blank right now, that part of it, I mean. I remember eating lunch at the diner, then nothing until I woke up tied to the post or beam or whatever it was.”
“And when you woke up?”
I closed my eyes, and when I spoke, I left them that way. I told Sandy what I remembered about the beatings and the torture with the stun gun, seeing Murton and how he killed the two men, and then how I saw my mother. When I opened my eyes I saw that tears were running down her cheeks and when I reached up to wipe them away she took my hand in both of hers and held it tight against her face. She then kissed the tips of my fingers and held my hand in her lap. I thought she might ask me about my mom, like maybe I might have imagined it, but she shifted the direction of the conversation.
“We’ve got an I.D. on the men. Their names were Collins and Hicks.”
“What about Murton? Where is he?”
“That’s a little more complicated,” she said.
“I’ll bet.”
“I might be able to help you with that,” Agent Gibson said. He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He pushed himself upright with his shoulder and said, “May I come in?”
Sandy let go of my hand and stood from the side of my bed where she had been seated. I nodded to Agent Gibson and he walked further into the room. He looked at Sandy and said, “Would you mind if I spoke with Detective Jones in private?”
“That’s not necessary,” I said.
“It’s okay, Virgil,” Sandy said. “I’ve got work to do. A lot has happened. I’ll check back on you later and fill you in then. Get some rest.” She leaned down and kissed me on the lips, then turned and stared at Gibson, her expression a challenge for him to comment on our private life. But he just nodded at her and after she walked out he looked at me and said, “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better,” I said.
“I checked your records. Saw you were in the sandbox.”
“That’s a term only a soldier would use.”
He pulled a chair close to my bed then sat down, a pocket of air held in the side of his mouth. “So maybe I was there.”
“In what capacity?”
He chuckled at my question before he answered. “Let’s just say I wasn’t dressed in camouflage and humping a pack. But that was a long time ago, wasn’t it? Right now you’re wondering about Murton Wheeler.”
“I’ve been wondering about Murton Wheeler for a long time.”
“So like I said, I can probably help you with that.”
I thought for a moment before I spoke. “He’s with the G?” I said.
“Something like that,” he said.
“What does that mean?”
“I’ll let him explain it. Believe me when I tell you though, Detective, he’s paid a tremendous price for his country. I personally owe him a debt I’ll never be able to repay, but that’s another story. From what I gather, that puts you and me in the same boat.”
“Where is he?” I said.
“Out in the hall, waiting to come in,” he said.
Murton walked into the room and stood about halfway between the door and my bed. I pushed the button on the control panel attached to the rail and elevated the bed into a sitting position. We stared at each other for a minute, neither one of us sure of what to say. It might have been the pain medicine, or it might have been the nervous tension, but I felt the corner of my mouth turn upwards, then before I knew it we were both smiling.
“You’re a fed?”
“Well, I was,” he said. “But not anymore. I put in my papers this morning.”
“Why?”
He laughed without humor. “Which why are you asking me about? The why did I disappear? Or the why didn’t I tell you what was really happening in my life? Or the why I had to let everyone, including you, your parents, and even my girlfriend think I was a criminal and a complete fuck up?”
“I’m sorry about Amy,” I said.
“Yeah, me too.” He stayed quiet for a long time. “We buried her yesterday. Her mom slapped me in the face at the service. Bet you didn’t know that, did you? She thought her death was my fault. You know what? She was right, but for all the wrong reasons. After the service I told her who I was, who I really was and she didn’t believe me. So I pulled out my badge and handed it to her and you know what she did? She fainted. Just like that. I thought I killed her. I’ve been under too long Jonesy. I had to get out. I let my job get in the way of my girlfriend’s well being and it cost her and my unborn child their lives.”
Jesus, Murt, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. God damn. I’ve been an asshole. I’m fucking sorry, man.”
We sat there, both of us quiet for a long time. We had spent the first half of our lives together as best friends, brothers, and the last half under a flag of deception that drove us apart.
“Well, at least Pate got his, huh?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“You’re kidding, right? You mean no one told you?”
“Told me what, Murt? No one’s told me anything.”
“Aw, that’s beautiful, man. After everything that’s happened, I get to tell you.” I watched the light in his eyes go dark and it reminded me of the look he carried with him in the desert over twenty years ago. “Guess you haven’t been watching the news. Pate’s dead, Jonesy. Yesterday morning at the taping of his show. Except it wasn’t just a taping. Because of everything that’s happened, he convinced the network to run a live special. The place was packed. He stood up there on the pulpit and confessed all of it. He had tears running down his cheeks and everything. It was like every other preacher you’ve ever seen on TV when they bare their soul and confess their sins, except ol’ Sermon Sam out did them all.”
“What do you mean?”
“After he confessed to burning his church in Houston, and taking responsibility for the deaths of Franklin Dugan, and Amy, and trafficking in child pornography, he stuck a gun in his mouth and blew the back of his head all over the choir. All on live TV.”
“You said with everything that’s been happening. What else did I miss?”
“Plenty. A city cop who now has the unfortunate nickname of Cauliflower shot your sniper to death and saved the Governor as well.”
“What?”
“Say, I don’t mean to change the subject, but I’ve got to tell you something else,” he said. “When I was cutting you down, I could hear your mom’s voice. In my head, I mean. It’s like she was telling me exactly what to do. Can you believe that, man?”
I was still processing what Murton had told me when a physical therapist came in the room and explained that it was necessary to get up and move around. Murton said good-bye, explaining that he had six or seven reams of paperwork to complete and would look in on me when I got home. Then, before he left, he walked over to the bed and kissed me on my forehead. “Never stopped lovin’ you, brother,” he said. My lips trembled, but I couldn’t get any words out. I grabbed his arm as he went to turn away and held him in place. After a few seconds I saw his
