seen you around.”
McCue simply nodded.
“Was that a yes or a no?”
“Thanks for your time,” McCue said. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”
“Leave me your card,” Joe said. “I may think of something later.”
McCue said over his shoulder, “I’ll leave one for you at the nurses’ station.”
And he was gone.
Ten minutes later, Joe pressed his nurse call button and asked for Agent McCue’s DCI business card.
“What?” she said. Then: “There’s no card here I can see. I’ll check with the other nurses, but I didn’t see him stop by on his way out.”
“Is there another nurse station?”
“There are several on each floor.”
“Would you mind checking with them?”
The pause was no doubt accompanied by rolling eyes, Joe thought. She said, “I’ll ask around and let you know.”
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Joe opened his eyes and saw something he didn’t want to see, so he closed them again, hoping it would go away.
“I know you’re awake,” his mother-in-law, Missy, said from the foot of his bed.
“I’m sleeping,” Joe said.
“You most certainly are not.”
“I’m sleeping and having a real bad dream.”
“Open your eyes. I need to talk to you.”
Joe sighed and cracked his right eye. He knew he was wincing because it hurt when he winced. “Where’s Marybeth?”
“She’s getting some lunch down in the cafeteria with the girls. She should be back in a half hour or so.”
“I wish she’d hurry,” Joe said.
Missy narrowed her eyes and leaned forward, her small manicured hands gripping the footrest. “You could be a little more grateful,” she said. “Earl and I sent one of his jets to bring you up here from that little Podunk clinic near Baggs so you could have the finest medical care available in the region. Where was it?” she asked, then answered her own question. “Craig, Colorado, or someplace vile like that.”
Joe vaguely remembered the flight. He nodded his appreciation, but he knew strings would be attached. As far as Joe knew, Missy had yet to perform a stringless act in her adult life.
“So the least you can do is hear me out,” she said.
“I don’t like the doctor,” he said. “He’s arrogant.” Joe based his appraisal on an exchange he’d had with Dr. Nadir two days before, when Nadir had shaken his head at Joe and said, “An arrow and buckshot wounds? What is this, the Wild West again? The OK Corral?”
“All good doctors are arrogant,” she said. “Especially the Indian ones. That’s because they’re good. The only ones better are Japanese or Chinese, you know. Unfortunately, it’s a little too cold for Asians out here. They like warm weather, I understand.”
“I was fine in the clinic,” Joe said, ignoring her comments.
“That clinic is for oilfield workers who get hit on the head with a wrench. It isn’t for the husband of my daughter or the father of my grandchildren.”
Joe shrugged, which hurt his right shoulder where they’d removed the double-ought shot pellet.
“Listen,” Missy said, “I want to know where Nate Romanowski is hiding.”
“Lots of people want to know that,” Joe said.
“I need to ask him for a favor.”
Joe nodded. Marybeth had filled him in on her mother’s plan to hire Nate to intimidate her ex-husband. “So that’s why you’re here?” Joe said. “The reason why you flew me up to Billings? So you could be here if and when Nate shows up?”
Her eyes sparkled, revealing her answer.
“And here I was thinking you cared about my health and welfare,” Joe said.
“Someone has to care about it,” she said. “You certainly don’t. Don’t you think you’re getting a little old for this sort of thing? Don’t you think maybe it’s time to grow up and settle down and get a real job that provides for your family? A job where you can come home at night and be there for your wife and daughters?”
Joe said, “Don’t beat around the bush, Missy. Tell me what you really think.”
“It needs to be said.”
“Not all of us can be media moguls. Or married to one.”
Her eyes flashed. “Earl Alden turned a million-dollar inheritance into a seven-hundred-million-dollar empire.”
