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Walt became agitated at the dial tone on the other end of his call. Ruby had mentioned something about Vic acting strangely that morning about the DNA evidence the lab had sent over on the gun she turned into them. Walt immediately called them to see if they had seen Vic, he was getting no answer. What in the world had she gotten herself into!? Walt's patience was wearing thin and he felt like hanging up, but the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that he shouldn't, he had to find her.
"DNA evidence, Absaroka county, can I help you?" Walt's heartbeat faster in his chest, thank God someone answered!
"Yes, this is Sheriff Longmire, I was calling about Deputy Moretti, was she in today?" The brief pause sent chills up Walt's spin, was she okay? The voice at the other end was clear and direct, unmistakably professional, but Walt's insides were still churning.
"Yes, Deputy Morreitti did come in today, she said that you had sent her to pick up the gun we ran diagnostics on." Walt listened intently, "it was a gun retrieved in the case of one, Chance Gilbert." The name was painfully familiar, it was enough to send his head spinning with dread.
"Thank you, I appreciate the information, have a nice day." Walt hung up quickly and ran from his office, his quick departure clearly noticed by Ferg and Ruby, each sat silently staring at one another in confusion. He had in mind that she had taken the gun to hide it so that his DNA wouldn't be linked, he hoped he was wrong. If she had taken the results and called for a termination of the diagnostic records without legal authorization, it meant prison time. Walt tried to gain some sort of footing as he seemed to be in a state of confusion and frustration. Where would she go to get rid of the evidence, somewhere U.S. law enforcement has little to no jurisdiction … Reservation territory. Walt's radio buzzed to life and Ferg's familiar voice rang through the air.
"Hey Walt, you left in quite a hurry, Ruby and I were just checking on you. We also wanted to ask if there is anything we could help with?" Ferg was always one to mean well, but he seemed to interject at the most inappropriate times. "Walt?"
"Yeah, I am alright, no need for back up, just checking on a disturbance outside of Res territory, I'll let you know if anything changes." There was a short moment of static before Ferg responded, seemingly fooled by Walt's response.
"Okay, thanks for the update boss, you have a great day, I'll make sure to be ready if anything comes up." Ferg hung up on his end and Walt just kept driving, there was no need to panic, what kind of trouble could she have gotten into anyway, at the worst she got caught by reservation law enforcement and was being held there, but then again … he would have gotten a call. One thing that Mathias was good at was making sure to inform Walt on things he didn't like. He just drove, noticing a similar track going off-road he turned and followed it for about fifteen minutes. What he saw as he approached the scene made his blood run cold.
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Mathias was sitting in his office counting the hours before he could go "off duty" for the night. Reservation life never rested, but he could sometimes get a few hours of sleep when the calls came in slower, this wasn't one of those nights. The phone rang as he rolled his eyes at the loathsome tone.
"Mathias, what can I help you with?" Walt's voice cracked through the silence and he was clearly upset.
"Mathias, I just found a dead body on your reservation, please don't ask me why I'm out here, just hear me out. It is a pretty messy homicide, nothing else to report, just one dead middle-aged male and my deputy's truck." Mathias paused before responding.
"Okay, just give me your location, I'll be out there as soon as I can." Walt had brought Vic's phone with him in case he might need it, what he wasn't expecting was to find a dead man in the middle of nowhere. He scanned the fields around him, then he saw it. Four pegs in a hog-tie, some kind of torture device. There had been someone tied to it, but it was cut at each corner. It looked like a body had been dragged for a short distance then left. Vic's truck was still running. He walked over to shut it off, and his breath caught in his throat. There was a pool of dried blood just outside the driver's side door. He would not have thought anything of it, except that the man lying dead on the ground was four feet from the truck, this was Vic's blood.
"Oh no, no, please no. Vic, where are you?" His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt like he might throw up. He heard the sound of fast approaching vehicles and turned to see Mathias as well as one of his deputy's pulling up to the scene.
"Hey, what have we got here Walt?" Mathias studied the area carefully, then he looked intently at the dead man lying on the ground. "That is one of Malachi's men, I recognize him from the few times I had the "fortunate" run in with my predecessor and his band of outlaws." Walt stared at Mathias with an intensity to match how he felt.
"Well, we have quite the mess on our hands here, I am almost positive that this man was killed by my deputy, but he got a shot off before he was killed." Walt pointed to the blood staining the ground beside him, his hand shaking violently … "that's Vic's blood."
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Her eyes fluttered open as she tried desperately to retain any semblance of composer she might have left. Vic's head throbbed at the sunlight shining through the cracks of what appeared to be an old shack of some sort. She shifted ever so slightly to try and assess her surroundings, quickly she realized that moving was not going to be easy, her left shoulder screamed as stabs of intense pain radiated down her back. She gasped loudly at the discomfort and looked down at her torso. She had only her tank top on which was hardly white anymore but had been stained red by her blood. Her head throbbed at the slightest turn and what appeared to be a body lay not three feet from her. "Henry!" Vic screamed and was rocked back at the pain welling up from her throat. It burned as if she had been forced to drink bourbon … that would explain her headache … and the reality that she couldn't remember much of what had happened after she passed out.
"Ughh, ahhh, aww, ughhh," Henry began to move ever so slightly and the painful groaning was a good sign that whoever had taken them here, gave him some much-needed medical attention. She noticed that there was a gauze wrap placed over her shoulder one each side, she was grateful.
"Henry, it's Vic, can you hear me?" She saw movement but was getting nothing of a useful response from him. Her arms and legs were bound tightly to the chair she sat in, and she could not move much further down than a few inches to try and get closer to him. "I need you to talk to me Henry, how are you feeling?" He turned slowly to face her and she was shocked to see that his recently bloodied face had men washed and bandaged, he stared up at her and spoke.
"Vic, where on God's green earth are we?" His question hung in the air, she wished so much that she could answer his question but there was little to no way that she could even guess, she had probably been unconscious for quite a few hours. The sunlight coming through appeared to be early morning light, but it could very well be the middle of the day. Henry's voice cut through the silence, "Did you see who grabbed us, anything you might remember about them?" Henry was ashamed to admit that he didn't recognize or remember the faces of the men who had so heinously tortured him, it was like his memory was wiped.
"I am sorry Henry, I can't remember a thing … just that there was a man I shot who tried to keep you on Res territory, they had you tied up." She tried to picture the man in her mind, toothless grin, round face, Indian. "I killed him, he had a concealed and he shot me, then I took him with his own gun." Her demeanor changed and Henry noticed, then he asked the long avoided question.
"How did you know I was out there Vic?" Henry was clearly curious as to how he wasn't dead, and that somehow the young deputy had stumbled on what was sure to be his gravesite. He waited for her response, she shook her head.
"Luck, I just happened to be doing a routine drive just outside of Res territory when I spotted vultures and suspicious tire marks a couple miles in." Her eyes met his and he relented, that was enough about how all of this happened, what was most important now was finding out where they were and just how they were going to get out.
"You two having quite the conversation huh?" The raspy voice was so distinct and familiar that Vic could hardly believe her ears, how in the world did Malachi Strange manage to get the best of her, Vic's face burned hot with anger. "Deputy, perhaps you can explain why one of my men is dead outside of your truck, and why we found Henry Standing-Bear freed from his noose of sorts?" She glanced up at his plump and wicked face, he was smiling at her, clearly in control of the situation.
"You tell me," Vic smirked back, he raised his hand and brought it down hard on the side of her face. She rocked back with such force that the chair tipped on its side and she came crashing to the floor. Her breath caught in her lungs as she struggled to fight the urge to scream out in pain, she had to be strong. "Don't tell me you've gone soft Malachi." Henry squirmed in discomfort as he could only watch.
"Leave her alone Malachi, it's me you want remember, you don't need to hurt her, it will only get you into more trouble with Walt." Malachi's attention shifted to his prisoner tied to the wall, he lay on his side, stuck. "If you want to prove you're a man why not start by hitting me?" Henry was glad to see the man's demeanor change.
"That pet of Longmire's over there has a mouth on her that is likely to get her killed one day, she better keep it shut … or I'll shut it for her." Malachi glanced back at a clearly shaken Vic, she was in serious pain by the looks of it, and he liked that … serves her right for messing up his plans. "Walt huh, I can hardly wait for him to get here, he and Mathias found the crime scene I was forced to leave behind." He won't take long finding this place, but he'll find his grave along with it." Malachi sounded like he had planned the whole thing to work out exactly the way it was, he was playing it cool.
"He is going to make you hurt for what you have done," Henry spat. "If it is anyone's grave, it will be yours you, coward." Malachi made a quick movement and struck Henry on the forehead with his boot heel. Henry shouted in agony, his face contorted in pain.
"Stop it, Malachi!" Vic screamed, her body shaking from pain and adrenaline, "you have no idea who you're dealing with." He glanced down at her with a confused look on his face.
"If I didn't know, I wouldn't be here. I want Walt to come, I have his best friend and his deputy. Even though we all know you are much more than that to him … aren't you?" Vic squeezed her eyes shut in discomfort, she felt tired … like she needed to shut her eyes for a while. Before she could defend Walt's honor, her body was overcome with fatigue, all she heard was the faint click of Malachi's boots living the room, and then, there was darkness.