Suddenly there was a sound in the air. It sounded like voices. But where were they coming from? The stream was running off to Gus’ right, and the sweet tinkling drowned out the faint sound of speech. It must be Shawn and Mathis, but Gus couldn’t make out what they were saying. He cursed himself for every time he’d ever turned up the volume on his iPod to fill his brain with Mariah Carey’s high notes. Didn’t he know he’d need his hearing intact one of these days?
Just keep talking, Shawn, Gus thought as he maneuvered his way to the first of the large boulders and pressed himself against it. Let me know where you are.
For what felt like an eternity, there was nothing but silence. And then he heard Shawn’s voice again. It sounded desperate, as if he were pleading for his life. Who knew how much time he had left before Mathis silenced him forever?
There was an enormous boulder up the hill to Gus’ right. Shawn and Mathis were on the other side of it. Gus scrabbled around in the ground at his feet for a weapon. He came up with a stone the size and weight of a brick. It would do.
At least, it would have done if he and Mathis were Cro-Magnons fighting it out in a prehistoric age. Unfortunately a lot of time had passed since then, and mankind had invented far more advanced weaponry, including the gun that Mathis must be holding on Shawn. The rock wouldn’t do Gus any good if Mathis could take him out from fifty feet away.
Gus needed one more weapon, and there was only one available-the element of surprise. He’d have to strike from above.
But for the surprise attack to work he would have to move silently. And that was nearly impossible. The ground was scattered with loose stones, and they skittered down the hill with every step he took. He had to lift one foot, wait for the gravel to settle underneath, then find a new place for it a few inches ahead. Press it down gently, make sure there were no loose rocks underneath, and finally put his weight on it. Then he could begin the process with the other foot.
Gus had no idea how long it took him to get to the top of the boulder. It felt like hours, although the last dregs of daylight around him suggested it had been only a few minutes. He pressed his back against the boulder and listened for the voices.
“You can’t just leave us out here,” Shawn said.
“Watch me,” Mathis said.
“You really think no one’s going to figure out what you’re up to?”
“That’s not going to matter to you,” Mathis said. “In fact, none of this is going to matter to you. And that’s-”
This was the moment. Mathis was going to kill Shawn. Gus had to move now. He raised the rock over his head and leaped down from behind the boulder.
At least that’s what he meant to do. But the ground around the boulder was strewn with loose rocks, and as he pushed off with his foot, the rocks slid out from beneath him. Gus went down headfirst, his face nearly slamming into the ground before he managed to get his other foot beneath him.
Gus was upright now, and moving fast, but Mathis had heard him. He whirled around, leveling the gun. Even in the twilight, Gus was sure he could see Mathis’ finger tightening on the trigger as Gus stumbled towards him. Gus brought the rock back up.
“Gus, no!” Shawn shouted.
Shawn’s words penetrated Gus’ mind at the same instant as the tingling sensation from the shock of the rock slamming into Mathis’ head. By the time he was able to process the thought that Shawn hadn’t wanted him to knock the gunman out, it was too late for him to do anything about it. Mathis was sprawled out over the stony ground.
“Are you okay?” Gus gasped as he kicked the gun out of the unconscious man’s hands and heard it splash into the stream in the darkness.
“I’m fine,” Shawn said. “Wish I could say the same for him.”
Shawn got down on his knees and felt Mathis’ neck for a pulse. He looked relieved to find one.
“I’ve never heard you express such compassion for a murderer before,” Gus said, a little hurt that Shawn didn’t seem at all grateful to be so daringly rescued.
“And you never will,” Shawn said. “Unfortunately, Mathis isn’t our killer.”
Gus gaped at him. “But he has to be. It all fits.”
“And a Matchbox racer fits in a prescription pill bottle,” Shawn said. “But that doesn’t mean that if you dump out your mother’s Darvon so you can use the bottle as a car carrier she won’t get mad at you, as I think we both remember all too well.”
Gus tried to make sense of what Shawn was saying. “He was holding a gun on you.”
“Yes, he was,” Shawn said. “In his right hand, which definitely did make our theory seem more likely. Unfortunately, what’s in his left hand seems to undercut it just about entirely.”
Following Shawn’s gaze, Gus knelt down and opened Mathis’ left hand. He was holding on to a plastic wallet. Gus took it and let it fall open. He couldn’t see much in the dark, but he could feel a smooth plastic surface on one side. On the other was a shield of engraved metal.
“It’s kind of hard to see in the dark, but he showed it to me before the sun went down,” Shawn said. “It identifies him as Special Agent Morton Mathis, FBI.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Gus stared down at the FBI agent, trying to will him back into consciousness. At least he thought he was staring down at Mathis. It had gotten so dark he could have been staring at a rock.
Or he could have until the rock stirred and moaned. And then let out a string of curses Gus was pretty sure no rock would ever utter.
“You’re okay now,” Shawn said, reaching down to help Morton to his feet. “You had me scared there. We were having a pleasant conversation, and then you just keeled over and passed out.”
“Yeah, right after this idiot beaned me with a rock,” Mathis said, clutching the back of his head.
“You’re not supposed to remember that,” Shawn said. “It’s been clearly demonstrated in every movie ever made that when you’re knocked out with a rock and someone tells you that you fainted, you always believe it. I think it has something to do with short-term memory. Or rocks.”
“I’m really sorry,” Gus said. “I saw you taking Shawn away at gunpoint and I thought you were going to kill him.”
“You were wrong,” Mathis said. “Though maybe not anymore.”
“Oh, come on,” Shawn said. “It was an innocent misunderstanding. We’ll all be laughing about it in a little while.”
Mathis pulled his hand away from his head and rubbed his fingers together, checking to see if they were covered with blood. Apparently they weren’t. “We’re not doing anything together,” the agent said. “We’re not laughing together, we’re not crying together, and as I was explaining before Chingachgook here tried to scalp me, we’re not working this case together.”
Gus shot Shawn a puzzled look, which was a waste of facial muscles since it was too dark to see expressions. But Shawn knew Gus well enough to read his silence.
“Special Agent Mathis is working undercover at Rushton, Morelock,” Shawn explained. “The FBI seems to believe that someone there is using the law firm as a conduit to smuggle out top-secret technology.”
“Would that be the same technology that was stolen from the Jet Propulsion Laboratory?” Gus said.
“That’s great. You guys figured out a piece of it,” Mathis said. “Just enough to get Archie Kane killed.”
“We’re not the ones with guns and badges,” Gus said. “We’re not the ones with the entire power of the federal government behind them. We didn’t even know who Archie Kane was until he was dead, let alone that he was working with the FBI.”
“He wasn’t,” Mathis said. “I couldn’t break cover with him. But I did put a little pressure on the guy, and he snapped.”
“If by ‘snapped’ you mean dressing up as a mime and holding innocent people hostage in a public restroom, I think that’s a fair assessment,” Shawn said.
“I mean he tried to take care of the problem on his own to protect his mentor, and it got him killed,” Mathis snapped. “I’ve got that kid’s blood on my hands, and the only way they’re coming clean is when I pop the guy who did him.”