Forrest laughs softly. “You’ve got some balls for a lawyer, don’t you?”
“You called this play. I’m only doing what I have to do for my family.”
Knox gives me a measuring look. “What do you really know about me, Mayor?”
“I know you used to leave JFK half-dollars in the mouths of men you killed in Vietnam.”
“That Kaiser does his homework, doesn’t he?”
“It wasn’t all book work. He was at FSB Ripcord when you were there.”
“No shit?” The intelligent eyes narrow with curiosity. “Well, now. If we’re going to speak any further, I need you wanded.”
Without further prompting, Ozan takes a black wand from his pocket and runs it the length of my body. I can imagine Walker Dennis tensing for a shot, thinking Ozan is making a move on me. The wand beeps when it passes the cell phone in my back pocket, but I show Ozan that it’s switched off.
When the Redbone wands Walt, the instrument begins beeping loudly near his ankles.
“My throwdown,” Walt informs him. “Try to take that, and I’ll beat you to death with it.”
Ozan chuckles like Walt’s a funny old codger.
As he straightens up, Forrest says, “Who planted the meth on my relatives?”
“This conversation’s drifting off point, Colonel. I’m only concerned about my father.”
“Your daddy murdered a state trooper, Mayor. That makes this a problematic conversation.”
“Bullshit,” says Walt. “I killed that asshole Dunn, and he was no cop. He was a disgrace to his badge. I stopped him from committing murder.”
Forrest gives Walt a hard look, then motions for me to follow him away from the other men. “Let’s move downwind and keep this civil,” he says. “Otherwise there may be casualties.”
When we’re out of earshot, Forrest turns to me. “You tried to cut a deal with Brody Royal, didn’t you? That was your mistake right there. Brody was a megalomaniac. I’m a pragmatist.”
“Is that right?”
“You can find out right now. Let’s hear your offer.”
“I’m not here to make an offer.”
“That’s too bad. Because I did speak to your father last night, and his main hope was that we can all come to a mutually satisfactory arrangement. His idea is to blame the casualties up to this point on dead people—Brody, Regan, and Morehouse, say—and you and your fiancée back the fuck away from this stupid Double Eagle story, and everything you think goes with it.”
Trying not to read anything into his verb tenses, I say, “Where did you speak to my father?”
“That doesn’t matter. But we had a good visit last night. Talked about the old days—and my old man, of course. Daddy thought a hell of a lot of Dr. Cage.”
“I don’t imagine the feeling was mutual.”
Forrest barks a laugh. “Are you kidding? Your dad and mine got along great. They’d both been through the same meat grinder in Korea. They had different politics, sure, but they respected each other. Hell, Daddy even knew Dr. Cage used to patch up the black agitators when they got hurt, but he didn’t care.”
I try to imagine my father respecting Frank Knox, but I can’t see it.
“Doc got into some trouble over in Korea,” Forrest says in a confiding tone. “He ever tell you about that? Bad trouble. He nearly went to prison, I believe. Daddy said he got fucked over by the army for doing the right thing, whatever that means. But I guess old Tom didn’t want you worrying he might not be the hero you thought he was.” Forrest smiles with what appears to be genuine nostalgia. “You know, Dr. Cage had to stitch me up five or six times when I was a kid.”
“Do you remember Viola assisting him?” I ask quietly.
The nostalgia goes out of Knox’s face, but his eyes still gleam as though from an inner heat. “I sure do. She wasn’t the kind of woman you forget.”
Could he possibly be Lincoln’s father? I wonder, noting the dark color of his skin, which looks like the result of Creole blood and not a suntan in December. He’s actually darker than Sonny Thornfield, but I won’t accomplish anything here by going down that road.
“I made a mistake with Brody,” I tell him. “I thought he was the man behind all this. But I was wrong. It’s been you all along.” I step closer to Forrest, and as I do, I get the feeling not many people invade this man’s personal space. “I’m not here to cut a deal. I don’t know whether you’ve got Dad right now or not. But if you don’t, you’ve got the best chance of finding out where he is. So I’m giving you until six this evening to put him safely in my care. After that, if he’s not back in the bosom of his family—”
“Are you seriously about to threaten me, Mayor?”
“Not physically. But let me finish. If you don’t get my father back safe in the bosom of his family, I’m going to do what I do best.”
“Which is?”
“There’s an old saying, Colonel. The mills of the gods grind slow, but they grind to powder. You know that one?”
Forrest cocks his head, which gives me a better look at the scarred nub of his ear. “I suppose you’re God in this hypothetical?”