Read Online Walt Longmire 07 - Hell Is Empty by Craig Johnson - Free Book Online
Authors: Craig Johnson
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that?”
“She’s the one he’s been talking to, and he’s going to need insurance.” I hustled back to the bar and placed a hand on McGroder’s shoulder; he was definitely looking better. I glanced at the can of root beer Sancho had found on the shelves. “You want another sip?”
The agent grinned. “Only if you’ve got something stiffer.”
“No such luck.” I cleared my throat. “I’ve got bad news; it looks like you’re going to make it.”
He laughed slightly. “So, what’s the good news?”
“I think he’s got one of your agents.”
The grin faded. “Kasey Pfaff?”
I nodded. “All the roads are blocked on both sides of the mountains, but I’m going to make a quick loop a little west of here. I’m hoping they’re in a ditch, so I might be able to round things up quick.”
“He’ll kill you.” He said it like taxes.
I patted his shoulder. “I’m kinda hard to kill.”
“Yeah, I know. I talked to a buddy of yours who’s in the Bureau—guy by the name of Cliff Cly. But still . . .”
My turn to grin. “Let me guess: Cly was reassigned to the licensing office in Nome, Alaska?”
“Something like that; he says you punch like a mule kicks.”
I shrugged. “He’s overly kind. Look, McGroder, I’ve got to get out there.”
His voice took a different tone, and his sable eyes focused on me unlike they had before, as his hand grasped my sleeve. “I’m not screwing around here, Sheriff. Listen to me. If you go after him alone, he’ll kill you. Wait for backup and . . .”
I took a breath and leaned in. “I’m just going up the road a bit.”
His face remained immobile. “You’ll never come back.”
I smiled at him, but it was one of those moments when everything freezes in time. I could hear the coolers laboring away, the sleet on the roof, and the last few dying sounds of the fire outside. You know those moments are a signpost, something telling you that you shouldn’t go any farther—the ones you try and ignore.
As I hurried toward the door, the Basquo intercepted me. “Hey, are you sure you want to do this alone?”
“Yep, I’m sure. I’m sure I don’t, but there isn’t anybody else for the job.” He started to interrupt, but I cut him off before he could get going. “With your experience in corrections, you have a lot more medical training; if he goes into cardiac arrest, you might actually be able to do something about saving him.”
He studied me, knowing full well I wasn’t telling him everything, including the promise I’d made to his wife.
He was holding something out to me.
“What’s this?”
“It’s my daypack with supplies. I found some stuff behind the counter—candy, granola bars, a couple of cans of pop, some chips, chewing gum . . .”
I took the bag and slung one of the straps onto my shoulder. “Well, at least my breath will be kissing-sweet.” He stared at me. I swear Vic was the only one who got my jokes. “I’ll be right back.”
“They took all the satellite phones that the Feds had except this one that they must have missed; they’re these Motorola Iridiums, high-end Fed stuff that might have about thirty hours of power left in them, so take this one.”
I didn’t take it. “Then you have no phone.”
He glanced at McGroder. “They know where we are.”
I still didn’t take it.
He handed me his cell phone that he had carefully wrapped in a Ziploc bag. “Well, at least take this—maybe you’ll find a signal.”
I took the phone but balked when he tried to hand me his Beretta. I patted the .45 on my hip. “I’ve got a weapon. Anyway, in this weather they might come back.” I took a deep breath of the warm air. “Do me a favor—call Ruby and report in. Tell her what’s going on but don’t make it sound too dramatic. Also, have her see what she can come up with on Beatrice Linwood’s record.”
“Got it.” I didn’t move, so he shoved the .40 back in his holster. “Look, when Benton was moving their
“She’s the one he’s been talking to, and he’s going to need insurance.” I hustled back to the bar and placed a hand on McGroder’s shoulder; he was definitely looking better. I glanced at the can of root beer Sancho had found on the shelves. “You want another sip?”
The agent grinned. “Only if you’ve got something stiffer.”
“No such luck.” I cleared my throat. “I’ve got bad news; it looks like you’re going to make it.”
He laughed slightly. “So, what’s the good news?”
“I think he’s got one of your agents.”
The grin faded. “Kasey Pfaff?”
I nodded. “All the roads are blocked on both sides of the mountains, but I’m going to make a quick loop a little west of here. I’m hoping they’re in a ditch, so I might be able to round things up quick.”
“He’ll kill you.” He said it like taxes.
I patted his shoulder. “I’m kinda hard to kill.”
“Yeah, I know. I talked to a buddy of yours who’s in the Bureau—guy by the name of Cliff Cly. But still . . .”
My turn to grin. “Let me guess: Cly was reassigned to the licensing office in Nome, Alaska?”
“Something like that; he says you punch like a mule kicks.”
I shrugged. “He’s overly kind. Look, McGroder, I’ve got to get out there.”
His voice took a different tone, and his sable eyes focused on me unlike they had before, as his hand grasped my sleeve. “I’m not screwing around here, Sheriff. Listen to me. If you go after him alone, he’ll kill you. Wait for backup and . . .”
I took a breath and leaned in. “I’m just going up the road a bit.”
His face remained immobile. “You’ll never come back.”
I smiled at him, but it was one of those moments when everything freezes in time. I could hear the coolers laboring away, the sleet on the roof, and the last few dying sounds of the fire outside. You know those moments are a signpost, something telling you that you shouldn’t go any farther—the ones you try and ignore.
As I hurried toward the door, the Basquo intercepted me. “Hey, are you sure you want to do this alone?”
“Yep, I’m sure. I’m sure I don’t, but there isn’t anybody else for the job.” He started to interrupt, but I cut him off before he could get going. “With your experience in corrections, you have a lot more medical training; if he goes into cardiac arrest, you might actually be able to do something about saving him.”
He studied me, knowing full well I wasn’t telling him everything, including the promise I’d made to his wife.
He was holding something out to me.
“What’s this?”
“It’s my daypack with supplies. I found some stuff behind the counter—candy, granola bars, a couple of cans of pop, some chips, chewing gum . . .”
I took the bag and slung one of the straps onto my shoulder. “Well, at least my breath will be kissing-sweet.” He stared at me. I swear Vic was the only one who got my jokes. “I’ll be right back.”
“They took all the satellite phones that the Feds had except this one that they must have missed; they’re these Motorola Iridiums, high-end Fed stuff that might have about thirty hours of power left in them, so take this one.”
I didn’t take it. “Then you have no phone.”
He glanced at McGroder. “They know where we are.”
I still didn’t take it.
He handed me his cell phone that he had carefully wrapped in a Ziploc bag. “Well, at least take this—maybe you’ll find a signal.”
I took the phone but balked when he tried to hand me his Beretta. I patted the .45 on my hip. “I’ve got a weapon. Anyway, in this weather they might come back.” I took a deep breath of the warm air. “Do me a favor—call Ruby and report in. Tell her what’s going on but don’t make it sound too dramatic. Also, have her see what she can come up with on Beatrice Linwood’s record.”
“Got it.” I didn’t move, so he shoved the .40 back in his holster. “Look, when Benton was moving their
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