“Hell, if only you could see yourselves. Blood everywhere.”
“All superficial.”
“Yeah, we’ll let the docs confirm that if you don’t mind.”
“Later, Taggert,” said Robie.
“Okay, so why don’t you tell me what you were doing at Clancy’s?”
“It’s a long story,” said Robie.
Taggert squatted next to him. “Well, I got nothin’ but time.”
Chapter
62
Any men left alive back at Clancy’s had apparently escaped on foot, because the damaged SUV was still there.
Robie and Reel spent hours going over what had happened.
When Monda arrived, Robie showed the sheriff and Taggert the bullet hole in the Range Rover in the garage.
“So this was the vehicle you shot at?” said Monda, running his hand over the damaged metal.
“Yes. Which also means that Sara Chisum’s killer was driving it.”
“I’ll get the forensics team out here to go over this thing,” said Monda. “What else?”
“Bobby Wendell gave us the heads-up about these guys gunning for us.”
Monda looked surprised by this. “So he’s more or less admittin’ that he was involved?”
“Maybe less than more. But he’s out of the country by now with his family.”
“What!” exclaimed Monda.
“He was concerned about his family’s safety,” explained Robie. “Don’t know if he’s coming back, but I don’t think he murdered anybody. So he can keep.”
“Damn it to hell, Robie,” said Monda. “I got people to answer to.”
“Well, you weren’t interested in going after him before.”
“Well, the situation has changed. I got me dead bodies all over the damn place. I don’t like it, not one bit.”
Robie rubbed his injured arm. “Well, I can’t say I care for it either.”
Taggert noted this and said, “Okay, you and Reel ought to go get checked out.”
Monda said, “I’ll drive you. We can talk some more.”
“No thanks, Sheriff. We have a car here. We can drive ourselves.”
“I’ll call Doc Holloway,” said Monda. “He’s an early riser. You know where his office is?”
Robie nodded.
He and Reel climbed into their car and drove off.
Reel drove because Robie was having trouble with his arm.
“Bad?” she said.
“Old wound just got worse.”
“That one was my fault. But you should have had it fixed before now.”
“Famous last words.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the photo.
Reel glanced at it.
“Who is she?”
“Laura Barksdale.”
“Your old flame? Where’d you get it?”
“It was in the glove compartment of the Bentley.”
“What do you think it was doing there?”
“I don’t know. But there has to be a reason it was there.”
“Do you think it’s connected to what’s been going on?” asked Reel.
“Again, I don’t know. But we need to find out.”
“Sherman’s dead.”
“But Pete’s not.”
“And he might have been driving the Range Rover. But you don’t think he killed Sara Chisum?”
“I didn’t. Now I’m not so sure. But I want to ask him about this picture.”
“Did you ever find out what happened to the Barksdales?”
“Just that they apparently left Cantrell without a trace,” replied Robie.
“How does a family leave a small town and no one know?”
“Well, apparently it happened.”
“Your dad should know, shouldn’t he? I mean he was here all that time. And he knew them.”
“He says he doesn’t know what happened to them.”
“And you believe him?” asked Reel.
“Maybe I’m getting cynical in my old age, Jess, but I’m starting not to believe anybody.”
“Good, I haven’t believed anyone in years. Sometimes, not even myself.”
They drove on.
Doc Holloway was waiting for them, dressed in a white shirt, a tie, and a white lab coat.
His nurse was not in attendance.
She didn’t get in until nine, Holloway told them, and it was not yet seven in the morning.
He examined Reel first, cleaning up her gashes, slashes, and cuts from where bits of material blown off by the fired rounds had punctured her skin.
“You hurt anywhere else?” asked Holloway as he finished stitching up a gash on her neck.
“Nothing that won’t keep,” she said.
“How’d you come by all these?” he asked.
“Fast living.”
Robie was up next and the prognosis wasn’t as good.
“You’ve completely torn the scar tissue, which in turn has torn some ligaments and done more internal damage,” said Holloway. “I can patch up the other areas, but that one’s going to require surgery.” He slowly lifted Robie’s arm up and back, and Robie winced with each movement.
“I’m goin’ to put you in a sling for now. You’ll need to keep it as immobile as possible. But you need to have that surgery done, Mr. Robie, or the damage really could be permanent.”
“Understood, Doc. Thanks.”
After Holloway cleaned up his other wounds, he helped Robie put his shirt back on. Then he fixed up the sling for Robie’s damaged arm.
Holloway glanced at him as he put his instruments and equipment away. “You and your friend have certainly been busy in our small town.”
“Wouldn’t be here if we didn’t have to be,” said Robie.
“No, I understand about your father. I hear he’s out of jail.”
“On bail.”
“When will the trial be?”
“Maybe there won’t be a trial.”
“Oh really, why is that?” asked Holloway suspiciously.
“If we find who really killed Sherman Clancy.”
“I understood the evidence was fairly damnin’ to Dan Robie.”
“Evidence is a funny thing. It all depends on perspective.”
“Are you yourself in law enforcement?”
“You could say that.”
“Clancy and the two Chisum girls, three murders in a relatively short period of time. We’re not used to that here.”
“I hope most places wouldn’t be used to that.”
“Do you think it’s one person doin’ all of this?”
“I don’t know,” replied Robie, watching him closely. “What do you think?”
“I’m just a doctor, not a detective.”
“But doctors have to be sort of like a detective. Investigating symptoms and arriving at the truth of a person’s condition.”
“That’s actually a large part of what we do.”
“Speaking of a person’s true condition, have you been by to see Billy lately?”
“Billy Faulconer, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“I have, as a matter of fact.”
“And how is he doing?”
“He’s dyin’, Mr. Robie. And there’s nothin’ any of us can do about that.”
“Well, that seems to be the case for a lot of folks in Cantrell,” Robie shot back.
Chapter
63
“Okay, you officially look like death warmed over,” said Reel as they walked out of Holloway’s office.
He examined the sutures on her neck, gauze on her face, and bandages on both arms.
“Well, then we make a quite a pair because you look like shit,” Robie retorted.
They drove back to the Willows.
Dan Robie met them on the porch.
“My God,” he said as he saw them fully. “I’ve seen infantry comin’ out of a firefight in Nam look better than you two.”
“It wasn’t too pretty,” conceded Robie.
“Taggert called me,” Dan said. “And filled me in a little.” He looked at his son’s arm in a sling. “Is it bad?”