“What do you think we’ve been doing, Dad?” Robert said as if talking to a child. “It’s hard to make up for a lifetime of abuse in a couple of weeks, you old fool.”
Stenko decided he didn’t want to argue anymore. His son’s words cut him deeper than he thought possible. No one had ever called him a fool, or to his knowledge ever thought of him as one. It hurt.
Robert was what he was, thought what he thought, believed what he believed. Stenko gritted his teeth and said, “So how much do I still have on my balance? I assume you’re going to apply the cash to my debt. How much is left?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Because I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be around, son. I feel like my insides are on fire. I’ve taken so much morphine, I’m an inch away from killing myself with an overdose. I want to know what my balance is.”
Robert said, “Twenty-four million.”
Stenko was suddenly angry again. “That’s ridiculous. It keeps growing the more I do to offset it. How can that be?”
Robert wheeled around in his seat, his eyes flashing. “Goddammit, Dad, haven’t you listened to a thing I’ve been saying to you? Your lifestyle is such that your carbon footprint just keeps growing. You still own the casinos, right? You still own all of the real estate in Chicago and down south, right? And you don’t have access to your own cash. Every minute that goes by, your footprint gets bigger. You haven’t done enough or paid enough to offset the damage you’ve caused.”
Stenko sighed and let his head drop back into the cushions. “But I’ve done everything I can,” he said. “I’ve run around the country doing all these things. I killed for you-”
Robert cut him off. “That wasn’t for me, Dad. It isn’t my debt. It’s yours. Don’t you dare say what you did was for me. It was for you, so you could try to get to below zero, remember?”
“But you’re the one keeping score,” Stenko said. “You’re the one I’m trying to get to forgive me.”
“Don’t give me that role. I didn’t ask for it.”
Stenko closed his eyes and tried not to grind his teeth against the pain.
In the front seat, he heard Robert ask the rancher, “What the hell is that out there on the prairie? It’s lit up like an obscene riverboat or something. But it’s not a boat, is it?”
The rancher said, “That’s a power plant.”
“What kind is it?”
“Coal-fired,” the rancher said. “Coal trains come down from Gillette.”
Suddenly, Robert was talking to Stenko again. He said excitedly, “Dad, we might have just found it. We might have just found your way to salvation. It’s a miracle because there it is out there, right when and where we need it.”
Stenko had no idea what Robert was talking about. He didn’t care. He wondered if he would last the night.
“How long has that single headlight been behind us?” Robert asked the rancher.
“Since Lusk,” the rancher said.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why should I? You think the sheriff is chasin’ us on a motorcycle? Is that what you think?”
“You know, I don’t have any problem putting a bullet in your brain. You’re a damned rancher. You’re as much of a problem to the planet as my dad. I think you’re both useless.”
The rancher said nothing.
Robert said, “Take that exit. I want to check something out.”
29
Rapid City
JOE ENTERED THE RECEPTION AREA AFTER HIS DISCUSSION with Coon and strode over to Marybeth where she sat in an armchair. She looked up expectantly, and he squatted down beside her. Both Sheridan and Lucy were asleep on vinyl couches, and he didn’t want to wake them up if he could help it.
His voice was soft but urgent. “Coon managed to track the location of my cell phone. Nate is just about to enter the town of Rangeland from the north.”
Marybeth said, “Rangeland? What’s in Rangeland?”
“Other than Stenko and Robert, I don’t know.”
“That’s enough, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “I’m going with them. They’re getting their helicopter ready at the airport, and we’re leaving in five minutes.”
“Any idea how long you’ll be gone?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure. But I think this will all be over soon.”
She reached out and touched his cheek with her fingertips and glided them over his stubble. He knew she was thinking of Janie Doe when she said, “I hope Stenko can help us. When I think of that poor girl in there, I want to cry. It’s like she’s no one. No name, no anything. We’ve got to find out who she is, Joe.”
“Maybe Stenko…” he said.
“Let’s hope so.”
“Have the doctors said anything more?”
She pursed her lips. “I talked to one of them a few minutes ago. He said there’s been some brain activity, but it’s sporadic. She may or may not regain consciousness.”
Joe waited a beat while the significance of what Marybeth said gained hold. “Ever?” he asked.
“Maybe,” she said. “It’s possible she might come out of it. It’s happened before, I guess. This is where doctors become observers instead of experts-they’re hoping for a miracle just like we are. But he said there’s nothing they can do other than keep a close eye on her.”
Joe stood. “Maybe you should take the girls to a hotel. They shouldn’t be sleeping here.”
“I’ll wait a while,” she said. “In case Janie wakes up. But yes, I’ll find a place near here and get the girls a decent place to sleep.”
He put his hand behind her head and gently pulled her toward him and kissed her. He wasn’t sure what to say.
“Let me know as soon as you find out something,” she said.
“I will,” he said. “You, too.”
On the way out of the room, Joe lightly brushed Sheridan and Lucy with his hand so as not to wake them.
But Sheridan opened her eyes. She said, “You’re leaving without me?”
“Yes.”