bag an hour before, he thought with a shiver.
“How did this Nurse Bob guy get hooked up with Cleve Garrett?” Hersig was asking Portenson. “Why in the hell did they go after Cam Logue and Not Ike?”
Portenson shrugged and cursed.
“Joe, do you know?” Hersig asked him. Joe shook his head.
“He’s in bad shape,” Portenson said, looking at Joe with some sympathy. “I don’t think he’s ever seen a man’s head blown off before.”
“Not only that,” Hersig said, “but did you see Cam Logue? Jesus, I’m going to have nightmares for years after that.”
“You did good,” Portenson said to Joe. “You probably saved the lives of two people.”
Hersig stood near Joe, shaking his head and staring out into the dark trees. “I’m confused,” Hersig said as much to himself as to Joe. “Why was Cam here? How did this Nurse Bob character get involved with Cleve Garrett? Or was he involved with Cam somehow? It wasn’t just a coincidence, no way.”
Hersig looked at Joe. “So was it Cam all along? Was Cam working with Cleve Garrett? Did he know Nurse Bob through his brother or what? I thought Cam hated his brother?”
Joe barely followed what was being said. He waited for the sound of Nate’s gunshot from across the river. The shot never came.
hortly after, Nate appeared beneath one of the spotlights, looking for Joe, causing the deputies who were milling about to stop and stare. Nate certainly had a presence about him, Joe noted.
“I lost his track in the dark,” Nate declared to everyone. “Shit,” Barnum cursed. “Did you see my deputies?” “They’re coming in right behind me,” Nate said.
Nate searched the crowd, saw Joe standing by his pickup, and started over. Portenson stepped in front of Nate, cutting him off.
“I understand you were the shooter. There may be charges filed, and we’ll need a statement from you.”
Nate looked at Portenson coldly. “Charges?” “I deputized him,” Joe interrupted.
Portenson shook his head. “What in the hell does that mean?” Nate shrugged, and stepped around Portenson.
“We still need a statement, mister.”
Nate said, “You’ll get one. Right now, I’m going to get Joe home. I’ll come in to your office tomorrow.”
Portenson approached Joe warily. “The identification came through in the middle of all of this. The doctor who escaped was the same Eric Logue who had grown up here. We should have photos of Nurse Bob and Eric Logue on the computer when we get back. Washington is send-ing them out. But how in the hell everything connects is beyond me right now.”
Joe shrugged. His movements were a beat behind his thoughts.
oe and Nate left Hersig, Portenson, and Barnum, who were having a discussion about how quickly they could coordinate helicopters and dogs to pursue Cleve Garrett.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Nate asked. “I’m fine.”
“I couldn’t get an angle on Garrett, or there would have been two bodies back there.”
Joe nodded. The images of Cam Logue and Nurse Bob’s exploding head played on a continuous loop just beyond the hood of his truck.
“So Cam Logue is dead?” Nate asked, after minutes of silence. “Yup.”
“So I saved a dead guy?”
“You didn’t know that. Neither did I at the time. That was a hell of a shot.”
Nate repeated, “I saved a dead guy.”
Joe looked over. “Nate, are you okay?”
“Okay is the wrong word to use after you kill somebody, Joe. I guess I’m ...I don’t know what. You could say I have some degree of job satisfaction, I guess.”
oe remembered his cell phone and switched it on as they turned onto the blacktop of the highway.
The display read: you have 1 message.
Marybeth, thought Joe. She’s probably worried as hell.
He punched in the numbers to retrieve the message, and held the phone to his ear.
It was Marybeth all right, but her voice was hushed and urgent.
“Joe, where are you? I’m with Marie, at her house. It’s a terrible scene, and I’m scared for her. Can you please get here as fast as you can?”
He suddenly floored it, and the engine howled. “What’s going on?” Nate asked.
“I don’t know.”
36
Mary beth’s van was parked in front of the Logue home on the circular drive, and Joe’s headlights swept across it as he pulled in. The van was empty except for a small, blond head in the backseat. Joe’s heart raced, fearing it was Lucy or Sheridan.
