picked up speed, and vanished over the edge. It took four full seconds for the sound of the crash to reach the top.
Thirty Five
A harsh shaft of sun from a skylight burned red through his eyelids, and Joe awoke covered in sweat with a screaming headache on a metalframed cot in the Teton County jail. He turned his head to the side, away from the light, and the movement created a wash of nausea that rose in him. He staggered to the metal toilet in the corner of the cell, threw up, and leaned against the cold cinderblock wall, breathing deeply. His mouth tasted like he’d been sucking on pennies.
“Morning, sunshine,” a Secret Service agent said, standing outside his cell. Joe recognized him as the one he had first seen in the sheriff ’s office.
Joe looked at his wrist, but saw a pale oval of skin where his watch should have been.
“What time is it?” he croaked, noticing they had also taken his belt, boots, and everything in his pockets.
“Noon.”
“Man,” Joe said, “my head is killing me.”
“You took a few lumps,” the agent said. “By the way, you popped your stitches last night so the doctor sewed you up again.”
Joe raised his arm and saw the dried bloodstains on his clothes, then raised his shirt and looked at the new bandages. There was no mirror in the cell, but when he rubbed his unshaven face he felt several cuts and bruises, and his bottom lip was swollen and sore. Boy, he thought, if Marybeth could see me now, she’d be so proud.
“I’m Agent Cameron,” the man said, “and you, my friend, are in a shitload of trouble.”
Joe looked over at Cameron, the the words setting him back.
“What do you have against the vice president?”
Cameron asked bluntly.
“Jeez . . .” Joe moaned, “I’ve got nothing against him.”
“Then why’d you go after him that way?”
“I didn’t go after him,” Joe said. “I went after Don Ennis.”
Cameron shifted, peering at Joe through the bars.
“Yeah,” Cameron said, “that’s what we thought. But Mr.
Ennis tried to make the case that you were attacking the VP and he stepped in front of him to protect him from you.”
Joe said, “You were there, weren’t you? You know it didn’t happen that way.”
“We wouldn’t have let it happen that way,” Cameron said. “But maybe you were swinging for the VP and hit the wrong guy?”
“I hit who I was trying to hit,” Joe said.
Cameron showed a slight smile. “Yeah, it was obvious you were after him and not the VP. I was just testing you. But Mr. Ennis seems to call a lot of the shots around here, and I think he would like you to stay in this jail cell a lot longer.”
Joe reached up with both hands and smoothed his hair back. There were lumps on his scalp too, and he winced.
“Have I been charged with something? Can I talk with the sheriff ?” Joe asked.
“I don’t think the sheriff is back yet,” Cameron said. “He had to leave early this morning because there was some kind of accident on the river. Apparently, someone drowned in the whitewater.”
Joe almost didn’t make the connection, but when he did he said, “Oh, God.”
“They’re looking for her body downriver, I guess,”
Cameron said.
Joe closed his eyes tight and slid to the floor.
“Was she worth punching her husband and landing in jail?” Cameron asked.
Yes, Joe thought, yes she was.
Joe sat at a conference table in the sheriff ’s office with Randy Pope, Trey Crump, and Tassell. His hands were handcuffed and on the table in front of him. The skin on his knuckles, where he had hit Don Ennis, was peeled back and scabbed over.
Trey was seated next to Joe. “I came over as soon as I heard. Mr. Pope called me last night.”
“Does Marybeth know?” Joe asked. “I haven’t been allowed to make a call.”
Trey raised his eyebrows sympathetically. “I called her this morning.”
Joe looked down. He could not imagine what Marybeth must be thinking. “How did she take it?”
“Not well,” Trey said, “but I told her we’d figure a way out of this.”
He leaned into Joe. “I heard about what happened with Smoke Van Horn. I know you’re not pleased about what you had to do, but I’m damned proud of you, Joe. After that bear, you had me worried.”
“Me too,” Joe confessed.
