We were just talking over at the office about how everybody was cooperating, and you were being pretty damn impolite about it, said Gut.
Not trying to be impolite, Lucas said. Swiveling a bit, as Sherrill had. Were trying to conduct an investigation.
Yeah. I bet you were investigating the hell out of this chick up to the Sugar Beet, Gut said.
Sherrill said, Hey, you… But Lucas held up a peremptory finger to silence her, and she stopped and looked at him; then Lucas said to Gut, Fuck you, you fat hillbilly cocksucker.
Gut looked at the slender man, who stepped back a bit and said, Lets cool this off, but Gut put his fists on the table and leaned toward Lucas and said, If you said that outside, Id drag your ass all over the goddamn parking lot.
Lets go, Lucas said. Im tired of this rinky-dink bullshit.
LUCAS TOSSED A TWENTY ON THE TABLE AND FOLLOWED Gut toward the entrance; the lanky man said, Hey, whoa, whoa, and Sherrill said, Lucas, this is a bad idea…
But six feet outside the door, Gut took a slow, short step, feeling Lucas closing behind him, spun and threw a wild, looping right hand at Lucass head.
Lucas stepped left and hit the heavy man in the nose, staggering him, bringing blood. As Gut turned, bringing his hands up to his face, Lucas hooked him in the left-side short ribs with another right; when Gut pulled his arms down, Lucas hit him in the eye with a left, the other eye with a right, then took the right-side short ribs with a left, then crossed a right to the face. Gut was trying to fall, staggering backward, got his back wedged against a pickup truck, and Lucas beat him like a punching bag, face, face, gut, face, ribs, face, face, like a heavy workout in the gym.
Lucas felt it all flowing out: the frustration with Weather, the attacks on Weather and Elle, the uncertainty, the depression. And heard Sherrill screaming, flicked somebodys arm off his shoulder, was hit from the left and turned, almost punched Sherrill in the forehead, felt another man moving behind him, spun, and saw the lanky man covering Gut, holding his hands in front of him, shouting something. ..
The world began to slow down, and Lucas backed up, hands up, Marcy pushing him, shouting. He could barely hear her. Okay, he said finally, through the roaring in his head. Okay, Im done.
Marcy faded in. Youre done. Are you done?
Im done… He dropped his hands. They were dappled with blood, and blood from Guts nose was sprayed across his shirt. He said, This shirts fucked.
Gut was stretched on the ground next to the pickup running board, groaning, the lanky man leaning over him, saying, Breathe easy. Come on, youre okay.
But he wasnt okay. He said, I cant, I cant, I cant… Every time he tried to sit up, he moaned, holdinghis sides; he was blowing streams of blood from his nose. We better get an ambulance, the lanky man said. Get him over to the clinic.
Can you call from your car? Sherrill asked.
Yeah, I can do that, he said, as if the concept were new to him. He hurried to the squad car, parked at the edge of the lot, pushing through a narrow ring of spectators. As he went, Marcy asked, quietly, Are you okay?
Yeah, yeah, he never touched me, Lucas said.
Thats not what I meant.
He looked at her: Yeah, Im okay. I sorta let it all out, there.
Id say.
The lanky deputy was back, said, The ambulancell be here in a minute. Then to Lucas, I aint gonna try to take you in, cause we all got guns, but youre under arrest.
Bullshit, Lucas said. You two came here to try to push us out of a murder investigation and he took the first swing. If I dont get some answers, Ill get the goddamn BCA up here and well tear a new asshole for your department. You two are gonna be lucky to get out of this with your badges.
Well see, the lanky man said. Why dont you go on down to the courthouse. Im gonna get the sheriff in. And youre not helping around here.
Why dont you just come up to the Sugar Beet, Lucas said. Weve got a big room.
A siren started down in the town, the ambulance. The lanky man looked at Sherrill and then at Lucas. All right. Well see you up there.
THIS IS JUST FUCKIN AWFUL, SHERRILL SAID, ON THE way back to the motel.
The fight? That was odd; shed always been one of the first to get in.
Not the fight. The way the fight turns me on. You could bend me over the front fender right now, in front of allthose people, I swear to God. Whoo. But you sorta hung me up there, dude. I dont think I coulda taken that skinny guy. She was vibrating, talking a hundred miles an hour. Maybe I could have slowed him down. Didnt take you long with the fat guy, thats for sure. Man, if the skinny guy had gone for his gun, though, Idve had to do something, and we coulda wound up with dead people out there. Whoa, what a rush. Man, the fuckin adrenaline is coming on, now. It always comes about ten minutes too late.
Lucas grinned at her: About once a year. It cleans out the system.
Whatre you gonna tell the sheriff? I mean, we could be in some trouble.
Lucas shook his head. Theres something going on. We know it, and now they know we know. I think we might learn something.
JeezI wish I hadnt used you up before dinner. Im serious here, Lucas, I could really use some help.
We might have a couple minutes.
It wont take that long…
THE SHERIFF SHOWED UP A LITTLE MORE THAN AN hour later. Lucas was walking back from the Coke machine with a Diet and a regular Coke, his hair still wet from another shower, when they arrived in two cars; the sheriff, the older deputy named Jimmy, the young, lanky man from the restaurant, all in the sheriffs squad car, and Dr. Stephen Landis in a two-year-old Buick.
Lucas continued to the room, pushed through the door, said, Theyre here.
Sherrill tucked her shirt in: shed been worried the room would smell too much like sex, which she thought would seem perverted so close to the fightwhich Lucas told herwaspervertedso shed turned up the shower full blast, cold water only, and sprayed it against the back wall of the shower stall. Now the room smelled faintly of chlorine, with a hint of feminine underarm deodorant. Were ready, she said, looking around. Put your gun over onthe nightstand. Thatll look nice and grim. Ill keep mine, but Ill let them see it. She was wearing her. 357 in the small of her back.
He nodded: You could be good at this.
She came over and stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. Remember that, she said.
The sheriff knocked a second later. Sherrill opened the door and let them in.
DAMN NEAR KILLED HIM, THE SHERIFF SAID. HE WAS standing in front of the dresser, looking at Lucas, who was sitting on the bed, his back to the headboard. The other three men were standing near the door, while Sherrill stood at the head end of the bed, near Lucas. He could still be in trouble.
Bullshit. I cracked his short ribs and busted his nose. He wont be sneezing for a month or six weeks, thats all, Lucas said.
Thats a fairly clinical judgment, Landis said. You mustve done this before.
Ive had a few fights, Lucas agreed.
In all my time as sheriff, I havent had a man hurt that bad, except one who was in a car accident, the sheriff said. Were talking to the county attorney to see if an arrest would be appropriate. We dont want you going anyplace.
Were leaving tomorrow, I think, Lucas said. But well be available down in Minneapolis. Im gonna talk to a couple of friends over at the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension, maybe a guy in the attorney generals office. About coming up here and deposing you people on the murder of George Lamb: to ask you why youve been covering it up all these years. Why youd send a couple of cops to roust us, in the middle of a murder investigation that youd been reading about in theStar-Trib.
The sheriff shook his head: We didnt send anybody to roust you. These idiots thought of it themselves. He tippedhis head toward the lanky man, who shrugged and looked at the curtains covering the single window.
The thing is, we can take care of Larry, the older deputy drawled. Cops get beat up from time to time. The real question I gotnot the sheriff, just meis whether you can be talked to. Or if youre just some big-city asshole up here to kick the rubes.