“No, I’m the grinding wheel. I sent sixteen killers to death row in Houston. Thirteen have been executed. I’m no longer very proud of that, but it’s a fact. So . . . you return my father, and I won’t much care what happens to you. But if you don’t, I’m going to resign the mayor’s office and turn all my attention to you. All my legal ability and experience, my law enforcement and political connections, all the resources of my future father-in-law’s media conglomerate—all that I will relentlessly focus on you. I’ll peel you open, layer by layer. I’ll dig up every enemy you ever made, every woman you betrayed, every cop you ever paid off, every lie you told, every corpse you buried, every dollar you moved offshore, every tax return you ever filed. Then I’ll grind you to powder, bone by bone. I won’t stop until there’s nothing left.”
Forrest Knox is looking at me as though seeing me for the first time. He doesn’t speak for a while, but when he finally does, he sounds anything but rattled. “That might be tougher than you think, Counselor. You see, my enemies are dead. Their bodies no longer exist, my women know better, my brothers in uniform are brothers, my money is safe, and I’ve paid my taxes. I’m basically bulletproof.”
“Nobody’s bulletproof.” The time has come for my bit of theater. “To illustrate my point, I’ve got a message for you.”
“Yeah? From who?”
Moving very slowly, so as not to trigger a shot by Sheriff Dennis, I take Deputy Hunt’s cell phone from my back pocket.
While Forrest watches, I power up the phone and wait for it to acquire a signal. Knox is squinting at the device as though it looks familiar. When two bars show on the screen, I pull up the number last called and hit REDIAL. After a pregnant pause, during which Knox leans forward to better see the phone, a cell phone in his pocket begins to ring. At the second ring, his eyes widen like those of an ice fisherman who realizes he’s walked too far out on the lake.
“Technically,” I say, “I guess this message is from Deputy Hunt. But in a larger sense, you could say it’s a message from God. He’s telling you to cut your losses while you can.”
Forrest looks like he’s thinking about snatching the phone from me.
I nearly wag my finger at him, but then I remember that would trigger a shot from Sheriff Dennis. “Six o’clock,” I repeat. “After that, I’m giving Deputy Hunt to the FBI, turning Caitlin and her father loose on you, and going to work myself. If that happens, you can forget taking over the state police. They’ll be processing you into Angola within six months, I guarantee it. And I can’t imagine a much worse hell for a dirty cop who uses snipers to take out his black competition. That would be a fitting end, but it’s one you have the power to avoid.”
Forrest hasn’t blinked for maybe a minute. He probably looked like this when he staked out trails at night in Vietnam. After a few more silent seconds, a tight smile broadens his mouth, and he reaches out as though to shake my hand in acceptance of my terms.
Don’t do it, says a voice in my head. He’s playing you. Raise your finger and have Dennis blow his brains out. Any other choice is giving this man a chance to tear your life apart. If Walt weren’t already wanted for killing a state trooper, I might raise my finger and take my chances in court. But that’s not really an option now.
Suppressing my revulsion, I take Forrest’s hand and shake it. “We’re going to leave now,” I say evenly. “If either of you touch your weapons, Walker will fire. He won’t hesitate, trust me. He lost a cousin to one of your men, and he’d love some payback.”
Again Knox’s dark eyes glint with interest. “This has been an enlightening visit, Mayor. I look forward to our next meeting.”
“One more thing, Forrest. I’m not your problem. The federal government is. Special Agent Kaiser is running Sheriff Dennis’s department now, and he wants your ass bad. I think he’s wanted you for a long time. You need to get my father back, so you can focus on staying out of federal prison.”
I walk away from Knox without waiting for a response, nor do I speak when I pass Walt. All that matters now is Walker Dennis and his rifle. Without them, Walt and I would already be dead.
WALT GARRITY WATCHED FORREST Knox follow Penn with his eyes, then turn and walk back toward the lake house. Walt was about to follow Penn to the truck when the Redbone reached out and grasped his arm.
“What the hell are you doing here, Granddad? You sure as hell can’t be no bodyguard.”
Walt pulled his arm free and started to leave, but Ozan said, “So you shot Deke Dunn, huh? I find that pretty hard to believe.”
After watching Forrest walk back into the lake house, a cell phone pressed to his ear, Walt finally gave his full attention to the combative trooper.
“That’s because your head’s full of stump water. Why don’t you crawl back to whatever slough you crawled up out of?”
The Redbone’s eyes blazed. He balled his right fist and stepped toward Walt, but Walt didn’t move.
“You must be crazy,” Ozan said. “Is that it? Alzheimer’s got you?”
Walt spoke in a voice so low that the trooper had to lean forward to hear him. “I’ve known many a Redbone in my day, you know? Especially down around Galveston in the fifties. Some were hardworking boys you could trust to tote the key to the smokehouse. Others could wear a top hat and walk under a snake’s belly. But I sized you up the second I saw you. There ain’t much worse than a dirty cop. I don’t mean a patrolman who takes his share of the pad to pay for his kid’s braces. I’m talking about pricks who use their badge to extort and kill people. Pricks like you and your boss. I wouldn’t be surprised if I bent my Colt over your daddy’s head back in the day. And you could ask him about it, if you knew who he was. But I’m bettin’ you don’t.”
As Ozan’s cheek twitched, Walt said, “Tom Cage is worth two of me and ten of you. And if he don’t come out of this thing alive and in one piece, I’m gonna cut the blood out of you. And I’ll do the same to your boss.”
“You mouthy fuck,” Ozan said, reaching back and drawing a switchblade from his back pocket. The blade sprang out with a chilling snick.
Walt looked at the knife with disdain. “Crab apple switch? I figured you for an Arkansas toothpick.”
“What the hell you talkin’ about, old-timer?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Walt pointed at the lake house. “Run home to Papa, son. We’ll have our day, you and me.”
Ozan waved the knife under Walt’s chin. “Laugh it up now, Texas, but get ready. I’m gonna gag you and gut you and sit you in front of a mirror while I do it.”