They were careful not to go too far—only to the edge of the cabin light. They sat and watched the deputies out there as they moved over the grass. Drake kept his hand on hers. The warmth of her body felt close to him.
“What happens now?” Sheri asked.
“I don’t know,” Drake said. He looked back to the cabin. Driscoll, Gary, and Patrick there. He felt her hand tighten on his.
After a while she asked, “Why doesn’t Gary or Driscoll go help the marshals?”
“I don’t think either one wants to leave the other one alone with my father.”
Sheri’s eyes shifted over the small gathering at the foot of the stairs. Drake saw her waver there for a second and then look to Drake. “Twelve years ago Patrick did it, didn’t he?”
It took Drake a while but eventually he nodded. He watched her take that in. He waited for her to say something and when nothing came he asked her about Bean.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Drake didn’t know what to say. He knew he had to ask but the asking was painful and he was having a hard time forming the words. He looked away from her now toward the search party out there in the grass. The flashlights were farther away from them, almost at the cottonwoods. With his eyes still out on the rolling hills, he said, “I just need to know if you’re okay.”
“He didn’t do anything to me.”
“And the house? The place that they took us—could you find your way back there?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think so.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t think I could, either.” He turned to take her in. She wouldn’t look at him now.
“Are you asking if he hurt me?” she said.
“Yes.”
“Not in that way,” she said. “He took something from me that I don’t think I’ll be able to get back for a long time.”
Drake waited. He didn’t want her to go on but he couldn’t stop her.
“I’m telling you he didn’t rape me. He didn’t get off on that. He wanted to make sure I knew I was helpless. He wanted my security. He took that all away from me. And now he’s out there somewhere.” She paused. “It’s almost worse that way,” she finally said.
He turned, looking away for a time before coming back to her, watching as the search party lights reflected on her pupils. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Are we okay?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
PATRICK RAISED HIS head when the shouting started down by the creek. He stood and Driscoll put a hand to his shoulder but then removed it after he saw Patrick wasn’t trying to run.
They covered the ground together, Patrick in the lead with Driscoll and Gary following close behind. Drake and Sheri cutting across the grass toward them. All of them in the near black of night until Gary brought out a small flashlight and flicked it on.
Already Patrick could see the men standing around the base of the tree. Their own flashlights illuminating the scene with a strange glow, the tall thin shadows of tree trunks shifting across the landscape as one deputy or another moved his light to take in the cottonwoods behind.
The incline was difficult with his hands cuffed behind him and Patrick slipped, falling to his side so that the meat of his shoulder would take the fall. He lay there with one of his legs beneath him for only a second before Gary had him up, asking if he was okay. Patrick didn’t spare the time to answer. He’d seen the legs there on the other side of the tree trunk now. The tips of the boots he knew were his father’s and the old bird gun there on the man’s lap.
Patrick came down and stood looking at his father. There was one fresh shell loaded into the shotgun and the other was still in his palm. He seemed to be staring at something just past them all, and for a long while Patrick looked out on the darkness beyond the cottonwood stand and tried to make out what it was.
DRISCOLL WALKED OUT onto the porch and then came back inside again. The paramedics had come and taken John Wesley and Morgan away. The blood was still on the floor where the big man had lain for the last couple hours. Drake brought his eyes up and took in Driscoll where he stood in the doorway of the cabin looking them all over. “You ready, Patrick?”
Patrick didn’t show any notice of Driscoll. He was watching the far hill where the ambulance had gone.
“You taking him in?” Gary asked. “I’d like to come along if that’s what this is.”
“That’s not what this is,” Driscoll said. “Patrick owes me something.”
Patrick came out of whatever trance he was in. He looked to Drake and Sheri first and then he looked at Driscoll. “I said what I did to get us here.”
“I don’t think so, Patrick.”
“Think whatever you want,” Patrick said. “Bobby is alive because I did what I did. All the rest, it’s all the same as it’s always been. There’s no money. There never was.”
Driscoll reached inside his coat and brought out the note written in Patrick’s hand. It was still in the plastic envelope. He walked it over to the table and set it before Patrick. “This was in the front of Bobby’s cruiser. Are you going to tell me you don’t know anything now?”
Patrick was studying the note on the table, his hands cuffed behind him and his back at a slight arch as he bent to take in the old note. He started to laugh, softly at first and then louder, and when he looked up at Driscoll he said, “You really don’t have anything, do you?”
“Where’s the money?” The words were fast and spit came up out of Driscoll’s mouth as he spoke. He was leaning into Patrick now, staring him down.
“We can take him in together,” Gary said again, his voice weaker now, but still trying. He was sitting opposite Drake, and Drake could see the sheriff’s eyes dart from one man to the other.
Driscoll straightened and returned to the open door, looking on the land out there that was now probably Patrick’s. The remaining deputies and lawmen were still searching the area for Bean. Driscoll’s back was to them and Drake couldn’t tell what was going through Driscoll’s head. Patrick was going back in regardless. There was no getting around that.
Drake was alive. He knew what his father had done for him. Sitting here with his wife and his father when he might not have been. But still, the note was on the table. The money didn’t belong to any of them. And maybe that was the problem.
“I can show you,” Drake said.
THEY CROSSED THE prairie with the moon full above them. Drake in the lead, followed by Sheri and then Driscoll, Patrick lagging behind with his hands cuffed and Gary bringing up the rear. The two men far enough back that their voices could not be heard over the sound of the grass swishing at their feet.
“How much is it?” Gary asked.
Patrick looked over his shoulder and then went on walking. He was having trouble seeing where to put his feet. Drake carried a flashlight and so did Gary. But the light would probably be better if both turned their flashlights off and they just used the moon. “You know how much,” Patrick said.
“All of it?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
Gary quickened his step. He was just behind Patrick now and every few steps he felt Gary’s shoe catch the back of Patrick’s heel. “It can look like an accident,” Gary said.
“I don’t want that,” Patrick said.
“It’s been twelve fucking years,” Gary said. His voice elevated.
Driscoll turned and looked back at Patrick but there didn’t seem to be any recognition in the man’s face.