Chapter Thirty-Seven

I wasn’t happy in hospitals, but this one time I was grateful for the comfort of a clean bed and attentive nurses. The I.V. filled me with antibiotics, painkillers, and much-needed hydration. My knees were disinfected, but no stitches were necessary, just a few bulky bandages. My left hand was extensively stitched and wrapped, along with the bullet gash in my arm. Rae had watched, with rapt interest, the stitching process and discussed the technique with the bemused doctor. She never left me for more than the few minutes she needed to make calls and give orders. I spent the first night in the hospital in a drug-induced stupor with Rae in a chair next to the bed speaking into her phone, doing paperwork, or dozing.

The following morning, I was finally stable and irritable enough for nurses to leave me alone. I gave a complete statement to some federal officer who finally left when I started growling my answers.

Rae entered the room and ordered everyone to not disturb us. She closed the door, lay down next to me, and gingerly held my battered, exhausted body close. The comfort in that simple gesture delighted me, and my heart opened for her.

“Should we talk about it now?” I said.

“Some of it we can discuss, some of it we can’t. Despite what’s happening between us, I’m still an officer of the law and you’re a reporter.”

Lifting my head to look into her irresistible but weary eyes, I said, “But a reporter with a vested interest, wouldn’t you say? After all, everything happened on my property, in my town, and—”

“Oh, suddenly you claim this town again?” She was laughing but she had a serious point.

I plopped my head back onto the pillow. “Let’s just say I’m revising my opinion about Prairie View for the better.”

“How so? Best funeral casseroles in Montana? No, I know, the best-managed sheriff’s department in the United States. Now there’s something you can put into one of your articles.”

“Well, that part is true and I won’t fail to mention it. But I was really speaking about the people here. I’m finally proud to count myself part of them. My obnoxious arrogance kept me from seeing clearly. But, darling, we are sliding off topic and you know it. You have some things to explain.” I felt her sigh into my shoulder. “Tell me about the missiles. What happened? They’re a big part of the story.” I could have choked myself for saying that.

“See, there’s how you see it, ‘the story.’ It isn’t just a story; it was a real threat to all of us and our way of life.” Her body tensed.

For a moment I was panicked she would shut herself off. “Sweetheart, I want you to understand this. Please listen and don’t automatically flip into law enforcement slash politician mode. Please.” When I felt her relax, I looked again into her eyes. “I love this country and the law every bit as much as you do. I have to protect it with the skills I have. Maybe I don’t carry a badge or run for election, but I can write pretty. And sometimes I piss off people who have the same values I do but defend those values differently. I would never, never, knowingly compromise the security of this country. I live here, too, as do my friends. And my lover.”

She looked at me pensively for a few moments, then put her head on my chest and was quiet for several minutes. As I awaited her reply, I felt my body finally give way to marrow-deep fatigue and I started drifting to sleep.

“Here’s what I can tell you for now, and it’s probably not enough for a story yet. One of these days I may be able to tell you the whole thing.” Her voiced pulled me from my dreamy state. She was lightly rubbing my belly.

“Fine,” I said, “but remember I’m trained to ask questions, and it happens without thinking.”

“Well, you remember I’m trained to ignore and evade questions that shouldn’t be answered. Deal?”

“Okay, deal.” I placed my hand over hers and stopped the distracting rubbing.

Her speech was deliberate. “Since nine eleven, I’ve held ‘special’ law enforcement jobs—”

“In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I know about your brother and nine eleven. And you need to know that it breaks my heart that you’ve had to suffer that.”

She swallowed a few times before continuing. “He was my rock.” She paused for a bit. “And I knew you were researching me. If I had your skills and drive, I’d do the same. Actually, I did do the same.”

“You researched me? And found out what?”

“That you’re a helluva great journalist and notoriously randy.” She started laughing at my indignant yelp.

“Damn you, Sheriff, didn’t you have anything better to do?”

“I did, but when a reporter, even a gorgeous lesbian reporter, starts digging around in a classified operation, I have to cover all vulnerable posteriors, even your delicious one. Now where was I?”

“‘Special law enforcement jobs,’ which I assume means undercover.”

“Well, yes and no. This job became more undercover than we previously estimated. My original mission was to monitor the border and northern survivalist groups. But then we discovered the developments on the Martin farm, and my role changed.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“My ‘agency,’ let’s call it. If you ask me to be specific, I’ll evade the questions with scintillating and clever parries. You’ll end up angry and frustrated, and I’ll regrettably have to leave. You choose.”

I snuggled closer to her. “I choose ignorance, for now. Besides, I have plans for you when my body doesn’t feel like it went through a trash compactor. Maybe I can weasel the information from you in a more pleasant way.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you try.”

“So tell me what happened to the shitheads at the Martin farm.”

“It’s complicated, and there are aspects I can’t tell you because I don’t want to compromise anything, but I can give you a sketch.”

I was disappointed but knew pushing her would drive a wedge between us, and I profoundly did not want that to happen. “Okay, I can work with a sketch.”

“When you saw me at Jerusalem Rocks, we were moving a cache of weapons to the Martin farm. The weapons had been smuggled across the border and hidden there for months in preparation for the ICBM operation. The foreign terrorists convinced the Martins they were all working for the same thing: the destruction of the United States. That was true, but the terrorists couldn’t have cared less about the Martins’ dream of a right-wing utopia township. They just wanted a staging area for their operation.”

“So the Martins were just pawns in a bigger game?” I hoisted myself up a little to face Rae. “Did the Martins know that?”

“I’m not sure. I do know that the Martins were so deluded by their righteousness and isolation that they really did believe that I was one of them. They touted me to the terrorists as if my defection proved their anti-U.S. credentials. The terrorists treated me like a necessary but distasteful ally. I was to keep all law enforcement away from them.”

“So when you left me cuffed to the bed, what happened?” I was still a little emotionally bruised about that.

“The terrorist leader could see the Martins, especially Eric, were spinning out of control and endangering their operation. So they decided to deploy immediately, and I wasn’t able to come back and release you. Besides, I believed you were safe anyway. You can’t imagine how horrible I felt when I saw you on the Rocks.”

“We can thank Billy and my pigheaded persistence for my freedom from the cuffs.”

“Anyhow, while you spent the day hiding at Jerusalem Rocks, I spent the day helping federal agents round up and arrest as many people involved as we could find. Your appearance spooked the terrorists into aborting the ICBM operation. Several melted across the border, but we did get a few key players. The Martins and Annie were nowhere to be found.”

“Annie,” I said, “is she all right?” I could tell by Rae’s silence that Annie was anything but all right.

“She didn’t have a chance, sweetheart. By the time the paramedics got to her, the venom had infiltrated her entire system. No amount of antidote would have saved her. I’m sorry. I know she was a friend of sorts.” Rae was smoothing my hair.

“I’ll tell you the entire story some other time. She was someone I didn’t know very well anymore. No matter what she tried to do to me, she didn’t deserve to die, not like that. But I feel most sorry for Wayne.”

Rae went on to tell me that I hadn’t killed Eric Martin. He was locked up in the county jail with a big bandage where I had winged his neck. With Sylvia’s and my complaints against him, plus his prior record, he would be making license plates for a long time.

We held each other for a long time after we quit talking, both of us lost in our thoughts. Finally, Rae stirred and said, “As lovely as this is, my dear, I have to be sheriff now. Billy is going to take you home in a few hours, but I’ll be over tonight to play nurse.”

“Will you wear a nurse uniform and kiss me where it hurts?”

“Let’s give your stitches a day or two before we play doctor games, okay?”

The kiss she gave me before she left was so blistering hot that I considered ripping out my I.V. and following her.

When I settled back down, I started thinking about Dead Guy and his long entombment in that cave. I had every intention of eventually discovering his identity and giving him a proper burial, but I was in no hurry. “He’s been there so long, a while longer won’t hurt,” I reasoned. I didn’t have the energy to deal with another problem on O’Hara land. Truthfully, I thought there was a story to be had, but it could involve my family. And I wasn’t ready for a murder investigation on my property. Not yet.