“Well, that’s done,” Hawk said, staring at the telephone he’d just hung up. “I told that guy everything including where to park when he goes to Cheyenne to look at the state report. Now it’s up to the intrepid fourth estate to find out most of the facts, and imagine the rest.”
“Amazing that you’d actually find a reporter working this late on a Sunday night,” said Sally.
“Yeah, it is. Makes me think we ought to give a contribution to that High Country News investigative reporting fund. Those people must stay up nights praying for a tip like this.”
Hawk had been going nuts all afternoon, having promised Molly that he wouldn’t make the call until she phoned to say that her lawyer had the trusts in the works. He could have waited until Monday morning, but he was worried that things would go haywire again. It had been a harrowing week, and Hawk was up past his bedtime, rubbing his eyes and fighting off crankiness. “Molly’s going to get some bad press out of this,” he said.
Sally leaned over his back and put her arms around him. “I don’t think she gives a rat’s ass. Looked to me like she worked things out according to a combination of New England logic and Wyoming government blaming. And in the meantime she’ll be out there in Centennial, nurturing her grass and enjoying her avocets. What could be more satisfying?”
Crankiness won. “You do realize that Sheldon will probably be able to hold up the feds for twenty times what that property of his is actually worth?” Hawk asked her, looking over his shoulder and peering into her face. “Any way you cut it, he ends up making out.”
“Hey—out here in the Wild West, we believe everybody deserves a little slurp at the federal trough,” Sally said. “Especially when we can revile those bastards in Washington at the same time. Pure bliss.”
The telephone rang again. “You answer it!” Hawk said, tossing her arms off him and jumping up. “I hate the goddamn phone.”
It was Scotty Atkins. “Hey, teacher.”
“You sound bloody cheerful,” Sally said.
“My life is beautiful. I’ve had five solid hours of sleep, and thought you’d like to know that our friends in South Dakota have some outstanding warrants against Pettibone Bandy for assaults and burglaries in Rapid City, back in 1997. Guess he went on a bit of a bender there, and they’re happy to catch up with him. What with this and that, he’s liable to do enough time to keep him out of trouble.”
“Now I feel more cheerful,” said Sally. “How’s Nattie?”
“Sleeping, I hope. We sent her home with Dwayne an hour before I left the office. Dickie and I managed to persuade the D.A. to agree to immunity, in return for everything she’s got against Carhart. She’s going to need a good shrink and a new line of work.”
Therapy, okay. But Nattie without real estate? Un-thinkable. Ruthless drive, and the willingness of most businesspeople to overlook past trespasses in the face of present wealth, would heal Nattie’s reputation, slicker than elk snot. “How about Dwayne?” Sally asked.
“He blows my mind. If it were me, I’d be kicking her butt all the way to Rawlins, but for now, anyway, he says his main job is to help his wife through her crisis. The man’s a mystery.”
“So I’ve thought for twenty years. What does Dickie say?”
“Dickie’s busy. When I left he was in the interview room. He’d gone through two packs of cigarettes and a gallon of coffee, questioning Marsh Carhart. When I got back neither one of them had moved, but he’d smoked most of another pack, filled up a wastebasket with fast-food trash, and was talking about sending a deputy down to the Wrangler for refreshments. He didn’t even look tired.” There was admiration in the detective’s voice.
“What about Carhart?”
“He looked tired.”
Sally chuckled. An awkward pause.
“Well,” said Atkins, “I just called to bring you up to date, and to tell you that you’re a big pain in the ass.”
“Nice mouth,” said Sally.
“Coming from you, that means something,” he replied. “I want you to promise me that I’ll never again find myself slamming a chokehold on some shithead who’s getting ready to put a bullet hole in you. I will admit that you were smart enough to figure it all out, but from this second forward, you’re officially out of the crime-fighting business. Go back to your books.”
“You’re the second man today who’s given me those instructions,” Sally said. “Lucky for all of us, school starts soon.”
“Put Hawk on the phone,” he told her.
“Hey Hawk!” He’d stalked off to the bedroom, but now he came back. She handed over the receiver, but stayed right there, leaning against him, close enough to hear Scotty through the wire.
“Hoops tomorrow?” Scotty asked.
“Why not?” Hawk said.
“I just told your woman she’s a giant pain in the ass,” said Scotty.
“Was she shocked?” Hawk asked, one arm stealing around Sally.
“She acted like she’d heard it all before,” Scotty said. “At her age, she’s not likely to change,” said Hawk, yawning. “But she’s got her good points.”
“I don’t want to hear about it,” Scotty said. “Fine,” Hawk answered, grinning sleepily when she kissed him. “We’ll leave it to your imagination.”