anything. He leaned on his mop and stared at me some more. “You know where they stuck Henry Standing Bear?” He motioned the mop handle toward the room across from mine: 62. We stood there for a moment longer. “Thanks.”
He continued mopping, and I ducked into my room to get dressed. My hands were swollen and starting to blister, and it was only with a great deal of difficulty that I snapped my shirt. The rubber boots were the hardest part so I finally left them unlaced. My hat hadn’t been with the rest, and I paused for a moment to think about when I had seen it last. I thought it was on the mountain, but I couldn’t be sure. I fingered the glob of tape attached to the side of my head and felt the tenderness that must have been my ear. It hurt worse than anything else, but at least they hadn’t cut it off.
By the time I opened the door and looked around, the guy with the mop had moved on to another hallway or had gone to fetch the elusive nurse. I quickly moved across the hall and into the room opposite, hoping it was the right one. I stood there in the dark, letting my eyes adjust. It was a mirror image of mine, with the exception that it did not look out on the parking lot. The breathing was heavy, regular, and familiar. I moved carefully to the bed and looked down. He seemed to be all there and, short of pulling down the sheet and examining the wound myself, I would have to go on the assumption that he was doing all right. He had a couple of IVs stuck in him too, but there weren’t any monitors attached and that gave me hope. I looked around for a clipboard at the foot of his bed that would tell me how he was, but there wasn’t one. Durant Memorial Hospital was doing little to live up to the expectations I had developed as a teenager watching Ben Casey.
I wasn’t sure what else to do, and I wasn’t certain why I was here, other than to just make sure he was alive and well. They lie a lot in hospitals; it’s their job, to supercede the power of the Almighty with half-truths. Better to check things out for yourself. I was about halfway to the door when he spoke. “Thank you for the visit.”
I stopped and crept back. “I left the Whitman Sampler on the nightstand.”
“Very thoughtful.”
I took a breath. “How do you feel?”
“Doped.”
“Must be nice; all I got was some Tylenol.”
He rolled his head toward me a little, looking at my clothes. “Where are you going?”
“To look for George Esper.”
“You want to kill him before somebody else does?”
I continued to look at him. “You aren’t that doped up.”
“I was just thinking of calling and asking for some more.”
“Good luck.” I patted his arm and started to back toward the door. “Get some rest.”
“Walt?” I stopped. “Thanks.”
When I got into the hallway there was still nobody there, so I quickly made my way around the corner. To my utter surprise, a nurse sat at the nurse’s station. She was looking at me so I marched straight over to her, crossed my arms, leaned on the chest-high partition, and draped my hands by my side where she couldn’t see them. There was nothing I could do about the ear. “Hi. I was just checking on a patient here, Henry Standing Bear. You’ve got him in room 62.” She had sandy hair, china-blue eyes, and looked like she was about fourteen.
“Yes?”
“He was complaining about some pain, and I was wondering if somebody could get him more medication?”
She seemed a little distracted as she picked up a phone. “Certainly.” She looked at me a little more closely. “Aren’t you in room 61, Uncle Walter?”
I glanced around as if it were obvious. “No, I’m not.” I looked at her more carefully. “Do I know you?”
“I’m Janine Reynolds. I’m Ruby’s granddaughter.”
The eyes started to look more familiar, so I smiled. “How you doin’, Janine?”
She didn’t smile back. “What are you doing out of room 61?”
I thought for a moment. “Official business.”
The brat, she had called her grandmother and told her everything, especially the part where I didn’t know her from Adam. Maybe they had given me more than Tylenol; at least that’s what I told Ruby. I sat at my desk and watched as Lucian ambled in on his man-made leg and occupied the chair opposite mine. He was studying me with more scrutiny than I was comfortable with. “What?”
“I bet’cha they take that ear.”
I sighed. “Just because they’re always taking parts off of you.. ”
“ ’At’s what they do best, take parts off.”
“I’m pretty fond of this ear.”
He scratched his stump. “Yeah, well I was pretty damn fond of my leg.”
I waited. “Anybody got any idea where George might’ve gone?”
He leaned back in the chair, hands spread onto his thighs with the fingers stretched. “Got an APB out, but them HPs are about as useless as tits on a boar hog.”
“How did he get out before Vic and Ferg got in?”
He shrugged. “Must ’a left right after you left him, in that little Jap piece of crap.” His head leaned to one side, and he was the perfect picture of disgruntled as he gazed at the floor. “Little shit bird.” He looked back up. “Stop playing with your ear.” I had been. “Yer gonna do more damage playin’ with it than you did freezin’ it.”
I decided to change the subject. “Where is everybody?”
“Turk’s still out at the Esper place. Guess he’s tryin’ to work his way back into your good graces. Ferg was running some food out to ’im, but that was an hour ago.” He grunted. “Ferg’s got your hat.”
“I was wondering where it had gone off to.”
“You’re gonna need it to hide that half ear you’re gonna have.”
I sighed some more. “Vic?”
“Up at the DCI compound.” He said it with the same derisive conviction he had for the highway patrol. He looked out the window at the frozen sky. “What’d the little pissant get shot with?” I felt around in the jacket I still had on and tossed the gun onto the desk with a satisfying clatter. I was showing Lucian that I could be tough, too. Next thing you knew, we’d be breaking out the bourbon and calling Ruby a twist; then the real fun would start. He looked at the little revolver. “That ought’a do it.” His eyes came up to mine. “How bad?”
“Not bad enough to keep him from jumping in the driver’s seat and leaving us in the lurch.”
I leaned forward on the desk and told Lucian about the Vasques, size nines, and about the conversation I had had with George before I had gone back for Henry. He neither responded nor remarked until I was through; just sat there looking at me. I was remembering what a good lawman he was when he finally spoke. “Well, he’s gotta get doctored somewhere.” He cleared his throat. “Seems to me you just left the place where you should ’a started looking for him.”
“You don’t think he’s stupid enough to go to the hospital?”
“He was stupid enough to be up there fishing in a blizzard, stupid enough to try and shoot you and Ladies Wear, stupid enough to try and make a run for it.” He stopped, shook his head, and folded his arms over his chest to signify the particular gaps in my line of thinking. “I’d say the depths of his stupidity have yet to be plumbed, and yours is comin’ up fast on the inside turn.”
I had gotten a lot of tirades like this when I was a deputy under Lucian, but I didn’t take them personally, much. “So, we’ve got the hospitals and doctors’ offices, but they have to report any kind of gunshot wounds.”
“You couldn’t get ’em to answer a bell, how long you think it’ll take ’em to file a report?”
He had a point. “You want to take a ride?”
“I’m saddled and, if you’re waitin’ for me, yer backin’ up.”
It was like working with Louis L’Amour.
Ruby stopped me as we tried to make our way out of the office. “Do you think you should make an attempt at cleaning up?”
I looked down at the stains and rumples that made up today’s and yesterday’s ensemble. “Lets the citizens know they’re getting their money’s worth.”
“You have dried blood all down your back.”
I dodged out the door before she could say anything else, with Lucian cadging along after me. I gave the old sheriff a hand as he pulled himself up into the truck. He took out his pipe and a small, beaded leather pouch of
