into the space behind the pickup’s seats. The moon was still high, its silver light so bright that Charlie hadn’t bothered to turn on the outside light. He looked toward the horse. “Nice of Spot to see you off.”
“He’s just waiting for a treat. I forgot to bring him one.”
“Tank full?”
“I stopped at Howard’s last night.”
He moved to the front of the truck and unplugged the long cord that kept the battery from freezing during the night. The cord’s twin ran to his cruiser. He wrapped the cord in figure eights from his elbow to wrist and tied it off and sat it atop the duffel. “Try to find a place with plug-ins at night. I don’t care if you have to pay somebody. Speaking of which—got enough cash?”
“You sound like my mother.” Lola stood on one foot, then the other. First Joshua and now this. She’d been ready to leave twenty minutes earlier. “I’m fine.” When she’d first met Charlie, she’d thought him homely, with his deep-set eyes, blade of a nose, and wide full mouth warring for dominance between a broad brow and uncompromising chin. In repose, he could look almost angry, something he knew and used to good effect when questioning suspects. Now those same features twisted in concern. Lola was relieved that his eyes were in shadow.
“You’d better take this,” he said.
She almost dropped it when she realized what it was. “The last thing I need is a gun.”
“I’m not saying you have to use it. It was my mom’s. It’s just a little thing. It probably wouldn’t even kill anybody unless you got right in his face, but it would stop him. It’s already loaded. You’ll feel better, knowing you’ve got it.”
“You mean you will.” She’d hoped for a laugh. None came. “You’re as bad as Bub, the way you make me feel guilty.”
“Speaking of which.” He handed her another bag. Was there no end to the delays he’d manufacture?
“Now what?”
“Bub’s food and his bowls.” He took a couple of steps back and opened the front door. Bub streaked past him and into the truck, turning three times before settling himself into the passenger seat, panting in delight.
“What the—?”
Charlie boosted her into the truck. He reached in and turned the key. The engine caught on the first try. Lola had a good idea, looking at his expression, how criminals felt when they realized the sheriff had gotten the better of them. “Best to share your space with another beating heart,” he said. He closed the door behind her and raised his fingers to his lips and put them to the glass.
She thought of his own heart, beating alone in the cold house. What about you? she wanted to say. She touched her fingers briefly to the window, pressing hard against his on the other side, and put her foot to the accelerator.
CHAPTER NINE
M agpie lay at the intersection of mountain and plains, spaces abruptly changing from vertical to horizontal. Lola loved the juxtaposition, the headlong sweep of prairie to the east, the way it made her feel at once small and soaring, while behind her rose the bracing immensity of the Rocky Mountain Front, the sheer limestone reefs seemingly so close that she could put a hand to them to steady herself. Until Lola drove east out of Magpie, she hadn’t realized how much she’d come to take that defining backdrop for granted.
Sixty miles out, her sky-gouging landmark disappeared from the rear-view mirror and the world became entirely too vast. The sky slowly lightened into roughly the same clotted-milk shade as the snow, making it impossible to tell where land left off and clouds began. “Do you think if I stood on my head it would look much different?” she asked Bub. She was already grateful for the company. Not, she thought, that she’d ever give Charlie the satisfaction of knowing that. She dug a hand into Bub’s fur, and felt for the stump of his missing leg. It ended in a hard knot of scar tissue that Bub gnawed when he was bored. She reminded
“He’s just waiting for a treat. I forgot to bring him one.”
“Tank full?”
“I stopped at Howard’s last night.”
He moved to the front of the truck and unplugged the long cord that kept the battery from freezing during the night. The cord’s twin ran to his cruiser. He wrapped the cord in figure eights from his elbow to wrist and tied it off and sat it atop the duffel. “Try to find a place with plug-ins at night. I don’t care if you have to pay somebody. Speaking of which—got enough cash?”
“You sound like my mother.” Lola stood on one foot, then the other. First Joshua and now this. She’d been ready to leave twenty minutes earlier. “I’m fine.” When she’d first met Charlie, she’d thought him homely, with his deep-set eyes, blade of a nose, and wide full mouth warring for dominance between a broad brow and uncompromising chin. In repose, he could look almost angry, something he knew and used to good effect when questioning suspects. Now those same features twisted in concern. Lola was relieved that his eyes were in shadow.
“You’d better take this,” he said.
She almost dropped it when she realized what it was. “The last thing I need is a gun.”
“I’m not saying you have to use it. It was my mom’s. It’s just a little thing. It probably wouldn’t even kill anybody unless you got right in his face, but it would stop him. It’s already loaded. You’ll feel better, knowing you’ve got it.”
“You mean you will.” She’d hoped for a laugh. None came. “You’re as bad as Bub, the way you make me feel guilty.”
“Speaking of which.” He handed her another bag. Was there no end to the delays he’d manufacture?
“Now what?”
“Bub’s food and his bowls.” He took a couple of steps back and opened the front door. Bub streaked past him and into the truck, turning three times before settling himself into the passenger seat, panting in delight.
“What the—?”
Charlie boosted her into the truck. He reached in and turned the key. The engine caught on the first try. Lola had a good idea, looking at his expression, how criminals felt when they realized the sheriff had gotten the better of them. “Best to share your space with another beating heart,” he said. He closed the door behind her and raised his fingers to his lips and put them to the glass.
She thought of his own heart, beating alone in the cold house. What about you? she wanted to say. She touched her fingers briefly to the window, pressing hard against his on the other side, and put her foot to the accelerator.
CHAPTER NINE
M agpie lay at the intersection of mountain and plains, spaces abruptly changing from vertical to horizontal. Lola loved the juxtaposition, the headlong sweep of prairie to the east, the way it made her feel at once small and soaring, while behind her rose the bracing immensity of the Rocky Mountain Front, the sheer limestone reefs seemingly so close that she could put a hand to them to steady herself. Until Lola drove east out of Magpie, she hadn’t realized how much she’d come to take that defining backdrop for granted.
Sixty miles out, her sky-gouging landmark disappeared from the rear-view mirror and the world became entirely too vast. The sky slowly lightened into roughly the same clotted-milk shade as the snow, making it impossible to tell where land left off and clouds began. “Do you think if I stood on my head it would look much different?” she asked Bub. She was already grateful for the company. Not, she thought, that she’d ever give Charlie the satisfaction of knowing that. She dug a hand into Bub’s fur, and felt for the stump of his missing leg. It ended in a hard knot of scar tissue that Bub gnawed when he was bored. She reminded
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