Eileen turned back to Alan. Her arms were beginning to tire of the strain of holding the pads, but she welcomed the pain. It should have been her. She was younger. She could take the trauma better than a sixty-year-old man. She was so delighted at finding the murderer that she forgot he might want to fight back. She was stupid, stupid. She shouldn’t be a detective. All she ever did to solve cases was wander around and kick at rocks until something crawled out. She wasn’t brilliant. She wasn’t even bright. She was stupid.
“I was trying to get Mitchell,” Bennett’s voice said at her right elbow. She looked in surprise to see him looking up at her, his arms bound at his side, his face sweaty and ill looking.
“Really?” she said, uninterested.
“Really. I’d never kill a cop. That’s Scott, he doesn’t care. He killed Leetsdale and he shot at you at your apartment. I wanted Mitchell, that son-of-a-bitch.”
“Why?” Rosen asked.
“Because I joined his team to get to the White House,” Bennett said. Echoing in his voice was the same lust for power Eileen heard in Mitchell’s voice. She wished she wasn’t sitting so close to him. “He screwed it up. He screwed me up. He had to start killing people, and look where it got us.”
“Krista Lewis?” Rosen asked.
“She was just a chick. It was an accident,” Bennett said with an attempt at a shrug that caused his face to grow sweaty. “I didn’t kill anybody but her, and she was an accident. Wouldn’t stop fighting, was what. I can do ten years for that, but I don’t want to go to prison for trying to kill a cop. I’ll get life. I don’t want that.”
Disgusted, Eileen turned back to Alan, who seemed no worse than before. She wished the helicopter didn’t smell so badly of fuel and oil. She wished the stretcher weren’t so hard. She wished they were there already, damn it, how long?
“You should have waited for me,” Rosen said abruptly to her.
“I did what I had to,” Eileen said. She didn’t want to turn her head but she did. “I had to go.”
“If you don’t trust me, maybe we shouldn’t work together,” Rosen said. His jaw was tight. He was furious with her.
“You’ll have to decide that,” Eileen said hoarsely. “I had to go after him, Rosen.” Her throat closed up to a pinhole, and she felt the pressure of tears in her nose and eyes. Was she going to lose Rosen too? She deserved no less. She was so stupid. She bent her head and blinked two fat tears out of her eyes. She watched them fall to the dirty floor of the helicopter with a sense of distant surprise. When was the last time she had cried?
She felt the first warm touch of the blood soaking all the way through Alan’s pressure bandage and turned back to him. He was so pale. She closed her eyes. Nothing was important now but getting him to the hospital. She didn’t matter anymore. Alan Baxter mattered. Somewhere inside her, in the roaring dark, she held her father’s love. Her father was no murderer. Her father loved her. The helicopter pounded and shuddered around her and she held the wet bandage tighter and she prayed desperately that they would get there soon.
Great Sand Dunes, San Luis Valley, Colorado
Paris lifted his hand in a wave to Gonzalez as Babe chugged over the top of the dune. Joe fiddled with the radio as they wallowed down the next slope. The radio on all bands played nothing but music and commercials.
“That’s a good sign,” Daniel said.
Joe said nothing. His heart thudded heavily in his chest. Eileen had looked out the window, looking for him, as the helicopter took her away. That had to mean something. It had to.
“Is Alan going to make it?” Marcia asked. Her voice was husky with emotion but her eyes were calm.
“If they get him to the hospital within the next half hour or so, and they have a trauma doctor who’s not completely useless, I should think so,” Paris said.
“How’d you know how to do that?” Daniel asked Paris.
“EMT training, and about six months up in Denver working for an ambulance company,” Paris said. “We did runs into Denver General and University Hospital. I hadn’t invented anything in a year and was feeling useless. So since being a doctor seemed extreme, I thought I’d be a paramedic. Just for kicks, you know.”
“Were there kicks?” Joe asked, turning down the radio volume. Paris shrugged, his arms corded with muscle as he held Babe’s steering wheel and aimed her into the slope of a dune.
“Yeah, there were. Not like today. I know I saved Mr. Baxter back there, but didn’t we just save the world, too?”
“I think so,” Joe said, and laughed.
“America, anyway,” Daniel allowed.
“America is the world,” Paris said with a sideways smile at Daniel.
“Let’s say the world,” Marcia said, and blew her nose with an enormous, unladylike honk. She put her tissue back into her pocket and shrugged. “Set off powerful earthquakes wherever you want. Who’s going to stop you from taking over the world?”
“We are,” Daniel said.
“Just don’t make me wear any stupid superhero outfit with tights,” Paris muttered.
Joe laughed with the rest, but his thoughts were with Eileen, and Alan. He sent thoughts, prayers, whatever he could, toward Pueblo and the hospital and the trauma doctor who should not, could not be useless. Hold on, he thought, and held on to the dashboard. Hold on.
“We interrupt this program to bring you a special news report,” said the tinny voice of the radio announcer.
There was abrupt silence in the Humm-V.
“Oh, God, no,” Marcia whispered.
“Turn it up,” Daniel hissed. Joe fumbled with the knob and turned it too far. The announcer’s voice boomed into the truck.
“We have reports of an earthquake in the Midwest. Is that right, Ben? Check the AP wire for me. Are you sure it isn’t California?”
Paris came to a stop at the top of a dune and let Babe idle. He rested his forehead on his arms. Joe slumped back in his seat.
“We were too late,” Joe said in a dull little voice. “After all that, we were too late.”
“Shh,” Marcia said.
“No, that’s right, the Mississippi Valley,” the announcer said. “Maybe our earthquake here in Colorado was a precursor, or pre-trembler, or whatever it’s called. Okay, here’s the report from the AP wire. ‘An unexpected earthquake shook the Midwest at 8:23 this morning. The earthquake made buildings sway from Kansas City, Missouri to Chicago, Illinois and was felt as far away as Denver, Colorado. The earthquake, measured at 3.7 on the Richter scale, damaged some older buildings in Memphis, Tennessee. No fatalities were reported. The earthquake was along a little known fault line named the New Madrid.’ That’s all we’ve got so far. Looks like some flatlanders got their shorts scared off of them today, just like we did last week. Stay tuned for updates, and in the meantime, here’s an oldies tune to match the day, ‘Shake, Rattle, and Roll.’”
“He did say 3.7?” Joe asked.
“He said 3.7,” Paris said. He gunned Babe and she spit sand and headed down the slope of the dune. “That would be less than four. Less than four!”
“We did it,” Daniel shouted. “We really did it!”
“We did,” Joe said. “Alan has to live now. He has to.”
“He will,” Marcia said. “How fast can this thing go on the highway, Paris?”
“We’re going to find out,” Paris said. “Just as soon as I can wrestle her back on to solid ground, that is.”
Joe leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He kept seeing Eileen’s face in the gritty window of the helicopter. Her face was strained and dirty and exhausted, but there was something different about her. There was something different in her eyes. Did she even know they’d won? At this point, he didn’t think she cared. She would, later on, when Alan Baxter was out of danger. Then she would care that their little band of earthquake hunters had won.
“What a strange team we were,” Marcia said, echoing his thoughts.
“I was thinking that, too,” Daniel said. “Two police d
etectives, two ufologists, an inventor, a computer programmer, and a retired English professor. What a crew.”
“Two computer programmers,” Joe said.
“Two?”
“Two,” he said quietly. “Me, and Jim Leetsdale. He gave his life to give me the codes I needed. He’s the real hero.”
“You’re right,” Daniel said in a low voice. “I wish he knew.”
“Oh, I think he does, somehow,” Marcia said.
“We’ll turn a glass for him,” Paris said. “We’ll toast his memory at the biggest stinkin’ party the valley has ever seen, when Alan gets out of the hospital.”
“Damn right,” Joe said.
“Is that Medano Creek?” Marcia said.
“Yeah, we’re almost out,” Paris said. Babe slid down the last slope, taking an avalanche of sand with her, and roared toward the creek. Joe could see the glitter of sunlight on the water and the glorious fall colors of the cottonwood trees that lined the edge of the dunes.
“We’re out,” Daniel said, as Babe crossed the creek.
Joe reached for the water container and took a long drink. The water felt delicious going down his throat, washing the last taste and touch of the dunes away.
“Here,” he said, handing the water to Paris. Each of them drank. Daniel, the last, poured a measure of water from the window as Babe hauled herself back on to the roadway.
“Water for our lives,” he said, with a sideways look at Marcia and Joe. “Thanks to Gaia, for sparing us.”
“Gaia?” Joe asked.
“The earth goddess,” Marcia said crisply. “Let’s ask her for Alan’s life, while we’re at it.”
“I already am,” Joe said. “Every second.”
Paris put Babe’s wheels on the highway and leaned over the steering wheel. The engine revved up to a near scream and Babe took off like a rocket.
“Give her all she’s got, Scotty,” Joe shouted, laughing. Behind him the dunes receded, flat and tan and uncaring.
In the center of the dunes, tiny left-behind shards of the Tesla machine were lying on the sand. Tonight the wind would come, Joe thought, and the grains of sand would cover the remains, and tomorrow the sand would be silken and unmarked. Pure, and silent, and clean.
26
The Rio Grande River, San Luis Valley, Colorado
Eileen squinted and set her jaw and cast the fly rod like she was trying to beat a carp to death. Joe laughed so hard he staggered in the water and nearly fell down. She looked at him with flashing eyes and a tight mouth. Then her mouth relaxed and she grinned.
“I’m trying,” she said.
“I know, I know,” he laughed. “I can’t help it, though. You look so cute!”
Eileen sloshed over to him and he put an arm around her. She was dressed in a fleecy jacket against the cold November day. She was wearing winter Neoprene waders that came up past her waist. She made waders look good. The winter sunshine had heated her hair. He smelled flowers as he buried his face in the gloss of her hair.
“Say it,” he said roughly.
“I love you,” she said instantly. “Want me to say it again?”
“Yes.”
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she said, hugging him with her free arm. “Don’t try to make love to me here, Alan is coming back down the river to check on me.”
“Okay,” Joe sighed. “He’s still pretty slow, though. We might be able to get in a quickie before he gets back.”
Eileen pulled back and glared at him, which gave him a perfect opportunity to kiss her thoroughly.
Alan came around the river bend as Eileen was getting her fly rod sorted out for another try at casting. Joe was a good six feet down the river, innocently untangling a knot in his leader.
Alan was a little slower, Joe thought. He moved slowly and carefully but he managed the fly line. Good thing he’d been shot in his non-casting side. Best of all was the way he looked when he saw Eileen and waved.
She waved back, unsmiling, her face as radiant as morning.
“How’s it going?” he asked as he joined them.
“Not so well,” Eileen said. “I’m not so good at casting.”
“Let’s try together,” Alan said. He stepped behind his daughter and put his arm on her casting arm. He held the back of her hand, and as she held the line in her other hand he moved her arm back, then forward. The fly line floated over the water and sailed back again, making a perfect loop.
“Like this,” Alan said, “Now let go.” The fly line settled on the water and the whitish fluff of the fly landed on the water. “This is a good cast. I know there’s fish in this bend, that’s why I put you here.”
The water sparkled in the winter sun, cold and clear as melted ice. The fly floated downstream. Joe watched Alan and Eileen. Their eyes never left the tiny fluff. Beyond the river, the winter grasses were golden yellow, speckled with snow. Joe shifted in the river, his toes protesting the lack of movement. The icy water was making his feet go numb. Alan was still, Eileen was still, and the fly suddenly disappeared underneath the water.
“Now!”
Alan pulled up Eileen’s hand and the line and the tip of the fly rod abruptly bent down. The line tightened and went straight into the water. Eileen laughed as the line suddenly moved underneath the water. It darted to the left, then to the right. Under the water, there was a fish with Eileen’s fly caught in its hard little mouth.
“Got one!” Joe crowed.
“Oh, wow, what do I do, oh wow,” Eileen panted, her cheeks flushed pink with excitement.
“Keep your rod tip up,” Alan said, his eyes never leaving the fly line. He was grinning. “Let the line out until you’ve got the fish on your reel. There we go. Now reel in slowly. Don’t pull too hard.”
It seemed like forever but it was only a few moments before Alan scooped up the fish in his net. It was silvery purple and spotted and not as big as Joe expected. Maybe a foot long.
“So small,” Eileen gasped. “I thought it would be bigger.”
“This is a wild rainbow trout,” Alan said reverently. He took a pair of forceps from his vest and expertly slipped the hook from the jaws of the fish. “This isn’t a hatchery fish. See the fins, how they’re perfectly shaped? Hatchery fish have worn fins from swimming along the concrete bottoms of hatchery ponds. Wild trout have perfect fins and they fight like demons. Aren’t they fun to catch?”
“Oh, my,” Eileen said. “That was incredible.” Alan let the net release the fish without touching it. It flipped a few drops of water at them as it swam off, as if outraged at losing the game. They all slogged to the bank and sat down together. The day was cold but there was no snow. With the sunshine, it was a gorgeous day to be outside in the wild. Joe tilted his head back and sighed.
“We ought to get back pretty soon,” Eileen said. “Supper.”
“We don’t want to miss Beth’s cooking,” Joe agreed. “And Marcia said she was bringing Daniel and Lady Jane and Sara down tonight.” They all grinned at each other. Watching Beth and Lady Jane learn to be friends was like watching two elephants get to know each other. There was a lot of stomping and ear flapping and trunk blowing.
“Marcia is really moving down here?” Eileen asked.
“That’s what she says,” Alan said. He eased his shoulder in the sling. “Some people just get taken with this place, she says. Looks like she’s one of them. Anyway, she can visit her friends up in Fort Collins whenever she gets the urge. That’s what she says.”
“That’s what she says,” Joe repeated mildly. Alan gave him a sharp glance but Joe said nothing more. Joe grinned to himself and wondered when Alan was going to be leaving the San Luis Valley. By the looks of it, not any time soon.
“So you’ll be going back to the Springs tomorrow night?” Alan asked.
“Yeah, got to get back to work,” Joe said.
“You can’t take a few more days?”
“Rosen is still mad at me for taking off after you,” Eileen said.
Her face brightened. “He didn’t ask for reassignment, though. So I’m trying to keep on his good side. But we’ll be back for Thanksgiving, for Susan’s wedding to Frank. We wouldn’t miss that.”
“It’s going to be huge,” Alan said with a smile. Joe grinned too. Susan Williams had allowed her mother to plan her wedding. She didn’t care, she told Joe, and her mother did. Whatever her mother wanted was fine with her. As rumor had it, the wedding train was long enough to reach from the front of the church to the back. Frank’s family was coming out from New Jersey. Joe wondered what the easterners would think of the San Luis Valley.
“You’ll have to come up for a while after that,” Eileen said suddenly. “The trial.”
Mitchell’s trial was going to be in early December and Alan had been called by the prosecution as a witness. Bennett’s trial was scheduled for May.
“Okay,” Alan said. “I’ll come up early. The kokanee salmon are going to be running in eleven-mile reservoir any time now. That’s the big reservoir west of Colorado Springs. Kokanee are really fun to catch.”
“It’s about time to go,” Joe said, glancing at his watch.
“I want to fish one more bend,” Alan said, climbing gingerly to his feet. “I’ll meet you back at the truck in about fifteen minutes.”
“Okay,” Eileen said. She looked doubtfully at her fishing gear and Joe knew she’d had enough. Why spoil the experience of catching the pretty little rainbow?
“Let’s just sit here a while,” Joe said as Alan disappeared upriver. He’d reach the truck before they did, which was fine with Joe. He had something to talk to Eileen about.
Alan stepped out into the river to cast at the far bank. The water was freezing cold and they’d been fishing all day. His shoulder was starting to ache fiercely. It was time to go, but the fishing had been terrific today. As his fly floated downriver his eye was caught by the figures of Joe and Eileen. They’d been hidden around the curve of the bank.
He watched them, puzzled, ignoring his fly. They were on their feet and almost looked like they were arguing. He felt the slightest of tugs on the fly and knew he’d missed a strike from a fish. They didn’t see him. He couldn’t hear them over the sound of the river and he couldn’t catch their expressions. The sun touched at the horizon and painted the winter grasses with gold.
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