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  “These guys were looking for something to rival Call of Duty,” he said, panting. “Came up with a zombie apocalypse spin on it.”

  The expression remained on Drake’s face. “I see.”

  “Hey, don’t go judging me,” Ajax said. “I don’t create the concepts, I just design the damn things.”

  A smile cracked Drake’s face. He watched as Ajax held the controller in front of him like a broadsword. Swung it in vicious swipes through the air.

  With each one, the tangle of dreadlocks atop his head flipped into a different arrangement.

  A new spray of bloody pulp appeared on screen.

  “You sure you don’t want in on this?” Ajax asked.

  Drake cocked an eyebrow. Looked down at Suzy Q stretched out beside him, her head on his thigh.

  “I’m good, but thanks. Sage should be here any second now anyway.”

  “Suit yourself,” Ajax said. Resumed his stance. Swung his imaginary weapon in a wide half-arc. Removed an undead’s head from its shoulders.

  Sprayed blood across the entirety of their LCD television.

  Another smirk slid out of Drake as he watched. Shook his head as he smelled Sage’s arrival long before he heard it.

  With a pat to Q’s shoulder he rose from his seat and turned to see Sage walking down the hall towards them, a pair of oversized pizzas from The Firetower in her hands.

  “You guys think you’ve got that thing loud enough?” she asked in lieu of hello. “Could hear it clear out on the driveway.”

  Drake pointed at Ajax. “You know how he gets when he’s working.”

  “I think the whole neighborhood knows,” Sage replied.

  Ajax finished the level he was playing, oblivious to them both. When the last monster fell before his blade, he flipped the control into a chair.

  Turned and wiped a hand across the sheen on his forehead. Went straight for the kitchen.

  “For the record, I heard you both the entire time. I’m just choosing to ignore it.”

  Sage carried the pizzas around to the front of the couch. Spread them out side by side on the coffee table.

  “Funny how The Firetower has a way of doing that.”

  “Noble even, isn’t it?” Drake added. Resumed his spot. Shooed Q onto the floor. Wiped her hair from the seat beside him.

  Ajax returned from the kitchen and extended a bottle of water towards each of them.

  Nobody bothered with plates.

  Three bites in, Drake lowered his slice. Used the remote to shift the TV from gaming gore to local programming. Flipped through the channels.

  Stopped on the fourth one he came to.

  Gone was any interest in his pizza.

  He didn’t notice Q staring in longing at the slice beside him. Didn’t pick up on Sage and Ajax casting glances his way.

  Instead, he focused his attention at Paula Goslin on the screen. A man with hair and beard all shorn the same length stood beside her.

  A graphic across the bottom of the screen read:State To Pursue Maximum Penalty For Commission Shooting.

  He turned the volume up several notches, almost matching what Ajax was playing at a few moments before.

  Nobody in the room said anything as he leaned forward. Rested his elbows on his knees.

  “We have worked very hard to make Hamilton the type of community people can be proud of,” Goslin said. Stared in earnest at the camera. “There is just no place for this sort of public destruction in our town.”

  A young reporter with teased out blonde hair and a silk blouse pulled the microphone back. “I understand that the shooter was taking part in the meeting, then chose to step outside halfway through?”

  Goslin nodded. “Yes, and for whatever reason, he decided to open fire on a lawful and peaceful public meeting.”

  The microphone was again pulled back. “Now, Mr. McIlvaine, it has been reported that you were the one that managed to put the shooter down before he did any real damage?”

  The man nodded. Glanced into the camera. Looked away just as fast.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ve had a concealed carry permit since leaving the military. It’s the kind of thing you pray you never have to use, but you’re glad you have when you do.”

  The blonde nodded. Pulled back the microphone. “I think I

  speak for the people of Hamilton when I say they’re glad you had it too.”

  She thrust the microphone back to him. Unsure what to say, he stared at it, up at her. A shy smile crossed his face. “I guess so, ma’am.”

  “And Ms. Goslin, word is the state will pursue the highest possible penalty allowable in this kind of case?”

  “Yes, that is correct,” Goslin said. “This sort of action goes well beyond the usual disorderly conduct charges of discharging a weapon in a public place.

  “This was nothing short of premeditated, attempted murder. Lukas Webb will go to prison for the rest of his life for this.”

  Drake’s jaw clenched. He remained silent.

  Onscreen, the blonde pulled the microphone back one last time. Turned to face the camera.

  “Direct from the mouth of Ravalli County Attorney Paula Goslin, the state will be seeking life imprisonment for the shooting that took place two nights ago.

  “Reporting live from Hamilton, Montana, I’m Susan Smarte, KGRZ News.”

  Drake sat immobile for a moment. Reached out with the remote. Lowered the volume. Leaned back against the couch.

  The three bites of pizza churned in his stomach. He worked his tongue around inside his mouth, trying to find some saliva.

  “You alright?” Sage asked.

  Drake nodded. A stiff, slow movement. “Yeah. Things just got a lot more interesting, that’s all.”

  Sage’s mouth formed into a circle. She stared at Drake a moment. Shifted her attention to Ajax.

  “You remember the thing about Rink and his friend?” Ajax said.

  “Yeah?” Sage asked.

  Ajax motioned with his chin towards the television. “It just got a lot more interesting.”

  Her mouth fell all the way open. This time she started on Ajax, shifted her attention over to Drake.

  “What does this mean?”

  Drake ran a hand back over his hair. Pursed his lips in thought.

  “There’s no denying he did it. Regardless what his reasoning was, he walked into a crowded commission meeting and started firing.

  “Thing is, now instead of being on the hook for a year and a half, maybe less, in jail, he’s up against life.”

  All three people leaned back. Stared off into space.

  Said nothing.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cold.

  Miserable, early morning, Montana-before-the-sun-rises cold.

  It first greeted Drake as he stepped out of his house for the morning. Enveloped him as he walked to his truck. Penetrated to the bone as he waited for the defrost to clear his windshield.

  Stayed there almost the entire way to Hamilton.

  His fingers had just regained feeling when he pulled into the Hamilton Memorial Hospital parking lot. No sooner had he gotten warm than it was time to park and walk inside.

  A vicious circle that anybody who has ever spent a winter in Montana knows all too well.

  Drake passed through the front doors four minutes before seven. He hooked a hard left and headed straight for the cafeteria. Took up the same spot in the corner they’d used the day before.

  Unloaded his shoulder bag and waited.

  It took less than a minute.

  Walking side-by-side, both resembling extras from The Walking Dead, entered Sara and Rink. Neither one spoke as they approached.

  Both strode straight and purposeful. Kept their gaze averted. Took up chairs opposite of Drake.

  Rink offered a terse nod by way of greeting. Pressed his lips tight together. Said nothing.

  “Morning,” Sara said. Tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Good morning,” Drake said. Pulled
a legal pad and pen from his bag. “Thank you for meeting with me so early. I’m sorry I had to ask for a seven o’clock start time, but I’m expected in Ronan at noon.”

  The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Rink’s mouth. “No worries. I know better than to keep the Kuehl’s waiting.”

  Drake smirked. “I’ve been told to relay you’re welcome to join us.”

  “I know that,” Rink said. “But I’m good, thanks.”

  Drake nodded. He had expected as much.

  “I don’t mind meeting this early,” Sara said, pulling them back on track. “I can’t sleep anyway. This gives me something else to think about.”

  Drake nodded again. Slid the tablet and pen in front of him. Laced his fingers atop them.

  “Alright. We established yesterday that you weren’t there for the actual shooting. I feel like everything we’re going to get on that has already been said by the media at this point.

  “So I figured we’d skip it if that’s okay?”

  Sara nodded in agreement.

  “Besides, you mentioned wanting to find out why he did it, right? Not prove that he didn’t do it?”

  “I don’t think you’re going to prove he didn’t do it,” Sara said. “Sheriff Pratt was here yesterday. More or less told me he just wants Lukas to wake up so he can haul him off to jail.”

  “Yeah, well, you’ll get that,” Drake muttered.

  Rink snorted.

  “What do you mean?” Sara asked.

  Drake leaned back a moment, glanced around the deserted room. “To a cop, there’s never any deeper meaning. No layers to dig through. No second gunman. There’s the surface, and that’s good enough.”

  “Especially a month after reelection, two days before Christmas,” Rink added.

  Sara nodded.

  “Right,” Drake said. “So again, we’ll skip that. I understand your brother was in the service. Let’s start there.”

  Another nod. “Lukas took a little bit different path than most. Coming out of high school, he had no intention of joining up. Couldn’t imagine leaving Montana.

  “At eighteen he moved to Missoula, went to the U. Graduated with honors.”

  “Majoring in what?” Drake asked. Scribbled notes as she talked.

  “Animal science. He wanted to come back and take over the ranch someday. Figure out the best way to breed our own stock instead of sending off for artificial insemination each year.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Hard times,” Sara said. Offered a wistful turn of her head. “This was in 2005. The economy hadn’t really bounced back after 9/11. Cattle prices weren’t near what they had been, what they should have been.”

  “So he went into the service?” Drake prompted.

  Sara bobbed her head. “He knew the ranch couldn’t afford to provide for all three of us, especially with his having student loans, so he enlisted.”

  “Army?”

  “Yes. Because he came in with a degree, he started as a Corporal. Rose to a Staff Sergeant before leaving a couple weeks ago.”

  Drake’s eyebrows rose. “A couple weeks ago?”

  “Yeah,” Sara said. Lowered her voice to little more than a whisper. “Papa took sick this fall. Pancreatic cancer. Nobody, not even him, knew about it.”

  “Damn,” Drake muttered. Knew better than to say he was sorry.

  He’d been in her position before.

  It was the last thing she wanted to hear.

  “Whole thing, from finding out to funeral, took two months. When Lukas first heard, he filed for a Compassionate Discharge.”

  Drake wrote the words down on his tablet and underlined them. He had no idea what they meant, but finding out would be easy enough.

  He didn’t want to interrupt the flow.

  “To everybody’s surprise, they were pretty cool about it. He’d already been in eight years, had a sparkling record. Since it was for family medical hardship, they granted his release.

  “Even still, it is the Army. These things take time.”

  Drake stopped writing. Looked up at her. “Did he make it in time?”

  Moisture formed in the corners of Sara’s eyes. No tears fell.

  “He did, but just barely. He got about three days with him before he went. I swear, Lukas coming home was the only thing that kept Papa going as long as he did.”

  Drake made another note to check the death records for an exact timeline. Again, he didn’t want to stop the story on small details.

  It was a problem, he found, most lawyers tended to battle.

  Too much attention on the trees, not enough on the forest.

  “Okay,” Drake said. Leaned forward. Kept the pen poised before him. “Connect the dots here for me. How did Lukas get from your father’s side to being here now?”

  “I don’t know,” Sara said. Gave a shake of the head for emphasis. “The whole first week he was back we were tied up with the showing and the funeral. I mean the whole thing. I don’t know how he did it.

  “We were both in shock, but his was a whole different level.”

  “How so?” Drake asked.

  “I lost my dad. He lost his life. Discharged from the Army. Left the desert. Flew back from the other side of the world. I can’t even imagine what he was going through.”

  “He ever say anything to you about it?”

  Another shake of the head. “No. Just kept asking if I was alright.”

  “Was there anybody he would have spoken to?”

  “Nobody around here. I know he has to attend counseling sessions with the Army for a couple months. He might have said something to them.”

  “Counseling?” Drake asked. Made another notation. “For?”

  Sara glanced to Rink. Back to Drake. “Nothing bad. I just think it’s standard now for soldiers getting out.”

  Drake nodded. “Makes sense. Do you know where he was doing those?”

  “I don’t.”

  “I can find out,” Rink inserted. First words he’d uttered in some time.

  Drake looked to him. Let the confusion show on his face. Made another note to ask about it later.

  “Okay. So let’s move to the meeting the other night. Was there anybody there in particular that Lukas had animosity towards?”

  Sara twisted her head again. “Not at all. Heck, he’s been gone the last eight years. I don’t even think he’s kept up with any of those people.”

  “Has anything happened since he’s been back? An ugly scene at the funeral or anything?”

  “No. There wasn’t but a few handfuls of people there. Mostly old-time ranchers Papa knew for years, couple of others like Rink here.”

  Once more Drake flicked his eyes to the side. Back to Sara.

  Silence fell over the table.

  Drake leaned back. Studied the notes in front of him.

  On the opposite side, Sara fidgeted. Stared down at her hands.

  Rink remained motionless.

  “The newspaper said it was an Agriculture Commission meeting. What does that mean, exactly?”

  “Good question,” Sara said. “Papa always went, always came home steaming mad. Always said he didn’t want me wasting my time with them.”

  Drake wrote the information down. “That should all be public record. Can’t be hard to find. Was this the first one Lukas went to?”

  “Far as I know.”

  A pair of orderlies shuffled in on the opposite side of the room. Both looked bleary-eyed, either on the front or back end of a long shift.

  They didn’t notice the trio seated in the corner, concerned with their own conversation.

  Drake watched them disappear into the serving area. Looked over his notes once more. Glanced at the clock on the wall.

  “Thank you again for meeting with me this morning. I will no doubt have a mountain of new questions soon enough, but this will get me started.”

  Sara and Rink both nodded.

  “Tomorrow is Christmas, so I won’t be able to get
much done until Tuesday. Can we meet again Wednesday or Thursday to fill in any gaps I come across?”

  “Sure,” Sara said. Her voice was just above a whisper, void of anything resembling emotion.

  “I’ll contact you later with the information about his counseling,” Rink added.

  Drake glanced down at his notes. Thought about his previous trip to Hamilton the day before.

  “Please do. Goslin will no doubt start there. I should too.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Steaming.

  It was the first time in seven years Drake had seen Ajax warm in between the months of October and May. To his extreme surprise, his friend wasn’t just tepid.

  He wasn’t even hot.

  He was flat out steaming.

  Drake could almost see it rolling off his dreadlocks as he tossed a duffel bag into the bed of the truck. Paused long enough to let Suzy Q jump in the cab. Climbed in after her.

  If not for the fact that Drake knew how upset his friend really was, he might have cracked a smile.

  Instead, he kept his face drawn tight. Put his own duffel bag into the bed. Slid in behind the wheel.

  He pulled the truck out of their driveway and angled across town. Stayed off the freeway. Drove slow.

  “What time do you get in tonight?”

  “Too damn early.”

  A wince crossed Drake’s face before he could think to stop it. “That bad?”

  “Worse.”

  Drake slowed the truck a bit more. Pulled up short at a light just turning amber.

  “Thanks,” Ajax said. Stared out the window, anger rolling off of him in waves.

  Even Q sensed it, pressing herself tight against Drake’s leg.

  “I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad...” Drake said. Let his voice trail off.

  “They haven’t,” Ajax replied. “Not really anyway. It’s just...my mom’s trying to play matchmaker again. Thinks it’ll make me want to move back.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “At Christmas?”

  “Worse than that,” Ajax said. “I just found out mom asked her to pick me up from the airport. Told her she was so swamped with getting things ready for the party...”

  Drake had to bite his tongue to keep from smiling at his friend’s demise. “That’s cold. Explains the hostility though.”