Lucas grimaced and jerked awake, not knowing at first where he was but smelling Meredyth's sweet fragrance all around him. He pulled himself up, shook off the blackout.
“What happened, Lucas?”
“I must've gotten hit by a fragment of stone or something.”
“I saw no return fire.”
“It was a ricochet,” he lied.
She remained unconvinced, but glad that he was again conscious. The ambulance screeched its way to a stop around front. “Maybe you'd better go to the hospital, too,” she suggested.
“No, no way… no more hospitals for Lucas Stonecoat.”
“Stubborn.”
“It's part of my charm. Did you hit anything? You fired your whole clip.”
“No, I don't think so. It was just too dark. Like shooting at phantoms.”
“I saw one go down. Think I got him in the leg. They sure ran like jackrabbits. Thought they were going to come back, finish us off.” He smiled with abundant pleasure and pride.
“You realize we've become targets of these crazed assassins.”
“We're onto them and they know it. And if it was Pardee and Amelford in Houston who jumped me, and if they were talking about Helsinger's Pit like Randy theorized?”
“Then we're talking a major conspiracy within the department.”
“That sounds so… so… so crazy…”
“People everywhere are sick of the justice system's inability to deal with growing crime,” he suggested.
She had to agree. “Juveniles with thirty or forty previous counts of robbery, rape, assault being put into the revolving-door system, only to step back out to murder someone.”
“Plenty of angry, frustrated people who might feel it necessary to take the law into their own hands, and cops are people, too, after all… myself notwithstanding.”
“But a conspiracy within the Houston Police Department to take vigilante justice against men like Mootry, Little… It's like… like a Dirty Harry movie or a really, really bad suspense novel.”
“But if it's true… if it's only partially true, and we don't have all the pieces by any means…”
“Then who? Who's involved? I mean, God knows who such a conspiracy might involve.”
“Lawrence?”
“You instinctively disliked him from day one, didn't you? I know I have from the day I met the man.”
“Well, yeah… but… maybe it's just my dislike for authority and white men in control of my life.”
“He stood in your way, didn't he?” She hammered her point home. “And he's stood in my way since the first moment I showed concern over the Mootry case. Maybe his thick headedness has a cause I was never supposed to uncover.”
“You're jumping to conclusions,” he said, trying to caution Meredyth.
“And who else knew we were coming to South Dakota? We were set up, pure and simple.”
“The FBI obviously knew about us, and from what Price and Bullock said, almost anyone could track us cybernetically. Damn… damn, but you're right about one thing.”
“What's that?”
“Someone set us up for murder, and I should go after them, track them,” he told her now.
“No, there's too many of them, and obviously they've planned their escape route, know exactly where they're going. You'll just be wasting your time. Besides, you get out there alone… have another blackout, and you could be… killed.”
“It wasn't a blackout.”
“I'll keep your secrets, Lucas, but don't lie to me.”
He stood up and marched back to the hotel, leaving her to trail after him.
Inside, Lucas asked one of the paramedics how it looked for the Indian boy.
“He's in shock at the moment, but prognosis appears good. He'll survive, thanks to the quick thinking of whoever dressed the wound.”
The paramedics were followed by the local police, some of whom recognized Stonecoat and Sanger from earlier.
There were questions and reports to be filled out.
They spent some time attempting to change their flight. They were able to do so, taking a flight leaving at 5 A.M. Lucas felt it best if they not stick to their original exit from South Dakota, that a change of plans was in order.
After their travel plans were arranged, Lucas asked Meredyth about how well she knew Randy Oglesby. “What're you implying?
That Randy somehow had something to do with the attack on us tonight? No, no… that's nonsense.”
“He's capable of learning anything about anything on that computer of his. That doesn't make him a moral degenerate.”
“He said he played the game, that Helsinger's Pit, as a child.”
“Everybody his age played that game.”
“All right, but are you sure you can trust him?”
“I… I'd trust Randy with my life, yes.”
“All right, then you're about to do just that. Telephone him.”
'Telephone him now? It's two A.M.”
“Call him and ask him to find out who ministered to Judge Mootry's spiritual, medical and legal needs.”
“Mootry's minister, his doctor and his lawyer?”
“That's right. He can do it from his PC, according to the FBI.”
“All right, and if he supplies us with the names?”
“We go talk to Mootry's closest confidants.”
“Disregarding Pardee and Amelford, Captain Lawrence and protocol?”
“When people start threatening my life and the lives of my friends, Doctor, to hell with protocol.”
She started to dial the number, but Lucas, taking no chances, suggested they call from the desk. “They might have bugged our phones,” he explained.
She shrugged her agreement and they made the call from the lobby.
The ringing on the other end continued four times, waking Randy from a sound sleep. Beside him groaned his newfound love, Ms. Darlene Muentes, who still thought he was a detective named Pardee. When Meredyth announced herself, Randy seemed surprised; it was an extremely unusual hour to be calling from South Dakota.
“Dr. Sanger! Great to hear from you. Is everything all right?”
“Fine. I'll explain everything when we get back,” she said noncommittally. “Listen, Randy, Stonecoat and I need another favor of you.”
“Anything to help.”
She was getting as paranoid as Lucas, she thought now, as to her ear he sounded almost too willing, too anxious to help. But then, he always was, always had been… She had always believed him somewhat love struck toward her, and while at first it had caused some consternation, the two of them had created a zone in which they could work together. Randy was nothing but a pure gentleman at all times, never suggesting anything but a business relationship, and yet there had remained something of the tension of their first meeting in the air between them ever since.
“What is it, Meredyth? How can I help?”
“We need you to track down the name of Mootry's personal physician, his legal and financial advisor, and his priest.”
“He had a priest?”
“Well, no… I mean, we don't know, but we want to talk to anyone giving him close advice in these three areas.”
“I see.”
“Can you do it?” she asked, knowing that he could, and knowing that he loved a challenge, and knowing that he loved to have her ask, so he could bedazzle her with his computerese.
“Sure… should be a snap. I have enough records on the man to tap into that, sure. It may be I get an agency or a church instead of a name, though.”
“See what you can find out, Randy, and thanks.”
“Sure, no sweat, Dr. Sanger. You sure now that every-thing's okay with you?”
“Just fine. We'll be back in Houston-”
Stonecoat cautioned her with a finger to his lips.
“-soon as we can. Be in touch then.”
“You got it. Doctor.”
She hung up, feeling badly that she'd suspected Randy in the least. She wondered if Stonecoat trusted anyone, including her.
TWENTY -SIX
When they arrived at Houston Intercontinental Airport, no one was there to greet them, as no one knew they were arriving so early. They'd gotten some sleep on the plane, but not much, and both Lucas and Meredyth wanted to go home, shower and rest, both knowing that Captain Phillip Lawrence would be wanting a briefing on South Dakota by ten A.M. at the latest.