Part 45 (1/2)
”I'm going to do what I have to do for me. I have some thinking to do about that, but I'll be leaving, most likely to move closer to s.h.i.+loh. I'll take my half of whatever's left once this is said and done, and leave you yours.”
He jerked back as if she'd slapped him. ”You're going to leave me like this, when I'm locked up, when I need my wife to stand with me?”
”You need,” she repeated, and shook her head. ”You're going to have to get used to your needs being down the line. After s.h.i.+loh's and after mine. I'd've stood with you, Leo. I'd've done my duty as your wife and stuck by you, whatever it took and for however long. But you changed that when you proved you wouldn't do the same for me.”
”Now you listen to me, Irene. You listen to me. Somebody took that rifle, took that gun, right out of my house. They did that to ruin me.”
”I hope for the sake of your soul that's true. But you and Dolly made our house a battlefield, and neither one of you cared enough about me to stop the war.
She left me without a second thought, and when we took her back, because that's what a parent does for a child, she lied and schemed just like always. And you fought and clawed at each other, just like always.
With me in the middle, just like always.” G.o.d help her, Irene thought. She'd mourn her child for the rest of her life, but she wouldn't mourn the war.
”Now she's gone, and my faith's so broken I don't even have the comfort of believing it was G.o.d's will. I don't have that. You left me alone in the dark when I most needed a strong hand to hold on to.
”I don't know what you've done or haven't done, but I know that much. I know I can't depend on you to give me that strong hand, so I have to start depending on me. It's past time I did.”
She got to her feet. ”You should call your lawyer. He's what you need now.”
”I know you're upset. I know you're mad at me, and I guess you've got a right to be. But please, don't leave me here alone, Irene. I'm begging you.”
She tried, one last time, to reach down inside herself for love, or at least for pity. But found nothing.
”I'll come back when I can, and I'll bring you what they say I'm allowed to bring. Now I've got to go to work. I can't afford to take any more time off today. If I can find it in me to pray again, I'll pray for you.”
L.B. HAILED MATT as Matt came back from his run. ”Have you got your PT in for the day?”
”Yeah. I was going to grab a shower and some breakfast. Have you got something you want me to do?”
”We could use some help restocking gear and equipment as it gets inspected.
The crew got in from Wyoming while you were out.” ”I saw the plane overhead. Man, L.B., did they have trouble, too?” ”Another bad pumper.” ”Well, s.h.i.+t.”
”We've got mechanics going over every inch of the rest of them, the saws and so on. We're unpacking all the chutes, and I've got master riggers going over them. Iron Man's here, so he's helping with that.”
”Jesus Christ, L.B., you don't think somebody messed with the chutes?” ”Are you willing to risk it?”
Matt pulled off his cap, scrubbed a hand over his hair. ”I guess not. Who the h.e.l.l would do something like this?” ”We're d.a.m.n sure going to find out. Iron Man had news. Leo Brakeman turned himself in this morning.”
”He's back? In Missoula? The cops have him?”
”That's exactly right. It makes me wonder how long he's been around these parts.”
”And he could've done this. Screwed with us like this.” Matt looked away, stared off, shaking his head. ”Threatening Ro, shooting at her, for G.o.d's sake.
Now messing with equipment. We never did anything to him or his. Never did a d.a.m.n thing, and he can't say the same.”
”Right now, we take care of our own, so grab that shower and some chow, then report to the ready room.” ”Okay. Listen, if you need me back on the jump list-”
”We'll leave you off for now.”
”I appreciate it, a lot. My parents should be in late this afternoon. I'm going to let them know I might have to cut it short. I don't want you having to shuffle somebody into my spot with the other c.r.a.p on your plate, too. You call me in if you need me.”
”Copy that.” He gave Matt a slap on the shoulder. He headed back into Operations. He had twenty-one men in Alaska, and didn't expect to see them back until the next day, soonest. Another load barely touched down, and a fire in California where they might need some Zulies before it was said and done. Dry conditions predicted for the next two weeks.
He'd be d.a.m.ned if he'd send the first load up without being sure, absolutely sure, every strap, every buckle, every f.u.c.king zipper and switch pa.s.sed the most rigorous inspection.
He thought of Jim, felt the familiar heartsickness. Accidents couldn't be controlled, but he could and would control this human-generated bulls.h.i.+t.
AT THE END of a very long day, Lieutenant Quinniock drove out to the base.
He wanted to go home, see his wife and kids, have dinner with them the way men did who weren't cops.
Most of all he wanted to be done with Leo Brakeman.
The man was a stone wall, wouldn't give an inch.
Every pa.s.s he or DiCicco had taken at him-together or separately-met with the same result. Zero.
Brakeman just sat there, arms folded, eyes hard, jaw tight under that scruffy man-of-the-mountain beard. He'd lost ten pounds, gained ten years, and still wouldn't budge from his I'm-being-framed routine.
Now he demanded-through his lawyer, as he'd stopped talking al-together-a polygraph. So they'd have to go through that dance and shuffle. Quinniock suspected if the polygraph results indicated Brakeman was a lying sack of s.h.i.+t who couldn't tell the truth over the size of his own d.i.c.k, he'd claim the polygraph framed him. They had circ.u.mstantial evidence aplenty. They had motive, means, opportunity and the fact that he'd run. What they didn't have was a confession.
The DA didn't want to charge Leo Brakeman, former All-State tackle, a Missoula native, with no priors and deep ties to the community, with the murder of his own daughter without a confession.
And since every G.o.dd.a.m.n bit of that evidence tied Dolly's murder with Latterly's, they couldn't charge him with that, either.
Need a break, Quinniock thought. Need a little off-the-clock before going back the next day to beat his head against the DA's. But first he had to see what the h.e.l.l Michael Little Bear wanted.
Once on base, he aimed directly for Little Bear's office. ”You looking for L.B.?”
Quinniock stopped, nodded at the man who hailed him. ”That's right.” ”He just walked over to the loft. Do you know where that is?”
”Yeah, thanks.”
He changed direction. It struck him how quiet the base seemed. None of the crew training outside or hustling from building to building, though he had seen a couple of them hauling a.s.s down one of the service roads in a jeep. Either a test or a joyride, he decided.
When he made his way to the loft, pa.s.sed what he knew they called the ready room, he saw why.
Here the hive of activity buzzed. Men and a handful of women worked on tools, taking them apart or putting them back together. Others pulled equipment off shelves or replaced it. Routine inspection? he wondered, considered the organized chaos as he entered the loft.