“Yeah. It’s fine. What’s going on?”
Talley stood in the door. Smith was alone in the room. His head lolled to the side, then righted. Talley glanced back at Metzger.
“I’ll be right back.”
Talley told Jorgenson and Campbell to wait with Metzger, then explained to the doctors.
“We have reason to believe that there could be an attempt made on Mr. Smith’s life. I’m going to post a guard outside his room and have police here on the premises.”
Klaus made his face into a pinched, sulky frown.
“An attempt on his life? Like what you did in the ambulance?”
Reese ignored him.
“We work at an ER pace here, Sheriff. Things move quickly. I can’t have that disrupted.”
“I’m the chief of police in Bristo. I’m not a sheriff.”
“I understand. Is my staff in danger?”
“Not with my officers here, no, ma’am.”
Klaus said, “This is bullshit. Who would want to kill this guy?”
Talley didn’t want to lie. He was tired of lying. He shrugged.
“We have to take the threat seriously.” Jobs, the security chief, nodded.
“The world is filled with nuts.”
Talley worked it out that his officers would remain the primary guard outside Smith’s room with Jobs’s security personnel as supplement; if Smith was moved to another part of the hospital, the Bristo police would accompany him. They were still talking about it when Metzger called from her post.
“Hey. He’s waking up.”
Klaus pushed past them and hurried into the room, Talley following. Smith’s eyes were open and focused, though still vague. He mumbled something, then spoke again, more clearly.
“Where am I?”
The words were slurred, but Talley understood them.
Klaus drew out the penlight, peeled open Smith’s eyes, then passed the light, first over one, then the other.
“My name is Klaus. I’m a doctor at Canyon Country Hospital. That’s where you are. Do you know your name?”
It took Smith a few moments to answer, as if it took him a while to understand the question, then figure out the answer. He wet his lips.
“Smith. Walter Smith. What’s wrong?”
Klaus glanced at the monitors.
“Don’t you know?”
Smith seemed to think again, but then his eyes widened and he tried to sit up. Klaus pushed him down.
“Easy. Stay down or you’ll faint.”
“Where are my children?”
Klaus glanced at Talley.
Talley said, “They’re still in the house.”
Smith’s eyes tracked vaguely over. Talley lifted his sweatshirt so that Smith could see his badge.
“I’m Jeff Talley, the Bristo chief of police. Do you know what happened to you?”
“People came into my house. Three men. What about my children?”
“They’re still in the house. So far as we know, they’re okay.
We’re trying to get them out.”
Klaus grudged a nod.
“Chief Talley is the one who got you out.”
Smith looked up at him.
“Thank you.”
His voice was soft and fading. Smith settled back, his eyes closed. Talley thought they were losing him again.
Klaus didn’t like what he saw on the monitors. His face pulled into the pinched frown again.
“I don’t want him to overdo it.”
Talley brought Klaus aside and lowered his voice.
“I should have a word with him now. About what we talked about.”
“I don’t see as it would do any good. It will only upset him.”
Talley stared at Smith, knowing he could punch the right button because he could read Klaus as easily as he read a subject behind a barricade.
“He has a right to know, Doctor. You know he does. I’ll only be a moment. Now, please.”
Klaus scowled some more, but he left.
“Smith.”
Smith opened his eyes, not quite as wide as before. Talley watched as they flagged closed. He bent close.
“I know who you are.”
The eyes opened again.
“Sonny Benza has my wife and daughter.”
Smith stared up at him, as blank as a plate, showing no surprise or shock, revealing nothing. But Talley knew. He could sense it.
“He wants his financial records. He’s taken my wife and daughter to make sure I cooperate. I need your help, Smith. I need to know where he has them. I need to know how to get to him.”
Something wet dripped on Smith’s shoulder. Talley’s eyes blurred, and he realized that he was crying.
“Help me.”
Smith wet his lips. He shook his head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The eyes closed.
Talley leaned closer, his voice raspy.
“He’s going to kill you, you sonofabitch.”
Klaus came back into the room.
“That’s enough.”
“Let me speak to him a few more minutes.”
“I said, That’s enough.’”
Talley posted the guards, then left. He drove again with the windows down, frustrated and angry. He punched at the steering wheel and shouted. He wanted to race back to the house; he didn’t want to go back to the house. He wanted to crash through doors and keep crashing until he found Amanda and Jane. It was impotent rage. He pulled the Nokia from his pocket and set it on the seat. He knew it would ring. He knew the Watchman would call. He had no other choice.
It rang.
Talley swerved to the shoulder of the road. He was in the middle of nowhere, on the stretch of highway between Canyon Country and Bristo, nothing but rocks and road and truckers trying to make it to Palmdale before dawn. Talley skidded to a stop and answered the call, the Watchman shouting before Talley spoke.
“You fucked up, you dumb fucking cop, you fucked up bad!”
Talley was shouting back, shouting over the Watchman’s words.
“No, YOU fucked up, you sonofabitch! Do you think I’m going to let you just murder someone?!”
“You wanna hear them scream? That it? You want a blowtorch on your daughter’s pretty face?!”
Talley punched the dash over and over, never felt the blows.
“I got YOU, you motherfucker! I got YOU! You touch them, you harm one fucking hair, and I’ll go in that house right fucking now, I’ll get those disks, and I’ll see what’s on them. You want them in the newspaper? You want the real FBI to have’m? I don’t think you want that, you COCKSUCKING-MOTHERFUCKER! And I’ve got Smith! Don’t you fucking forget that! I’ve got Smith!”
Talley’s hands shook with rage. It was the way he felt in the minutes after a SWAT entry when shots had been fired, his blood running so hot that only more blood could cool it.
When the Watchman spoke again, his voice was measured.
“I guess we each have something the other wants.”
Talley forced himself to be calm. He had bought himself time.
“Remember that. You fucking remember that.”
“All right. You have a guard on Smith. Fair enough. We’ll deal with Smith when we deal with Smith. Right now we want our property.”
“Not one fucking hair. One hair and you bastards are mine.”
“We’re off that, Talley. Move on. You still have to make sure that I get those disks. If I don’t, more than hair will be harmed.”
“So what’s next?”
“My people are good to go. You know who I mean?”
“The FBI.”
“Six in two vans. If there’s any fuckup, if you do anything other than what I tell you to do, you’ll get your family back in the mail.”
“I’m doing what I can, goddamnit. Tell me what you want.”
“Whatever they say they need, you give it to them. Whatever they want you to do, you do it. Remember, Talley, I get those disks, you get your family.”
“Jesus, man, we can’t have an assassination squad out here. The neighborhood is full of professional police officers. They’re not stupid.”
“I’m not stupid, either, Talley. My guys know how to walk the walk and talk the talk. They will behave in a professional manner. Use the Sheriffs for your perimeter, but have their tactical team stand down. My guy, the team leader, he’ll cover that with the Sheriffs. They were in the area on a joint training mission with the Customs Service and the U.S. Marshals. They called you, offered their assistance, and you accepted.”