"Good mornin'!" Deputy Alfie Carter was sitting beside the bed, his campaign hat in his hands and a wide smile on his open, friendly face.
Steve blinked several times, lifting his head slightly and looking around the small hospital room, trying once more to get his bearings. It didn't take long for everything to come flooding back, and he closed his eyes again and dropped his head back onto the pillow.
"How are you feelin'?"
Steve nodded, frowning. "Any, ah, any news about Mike yet?" He tried to keep the anxiety out of his voice.
"Sheriff Noble and Lonny are workin' on that right now. They told me to let 'em know when you woke up, they have some stuff to tell ya." He got up. "Be right back." He left the room quickly.
Steve stared at the ceiling. He tried to ignore the throbbing ache in his arm and leg. He caught his breath with a fearful observation: if he was in so much pain, he could only imagine what Mike was going through. It had been almost two days since he'd been shot and, as far as anyone knew, hadn't received any medical attention at all in that time.
"Steve!" he heard his name called out as Noble hurried into the room. There was a smile on the sheriff's face that instantly, though he didn't know exactly why, brought a wave of relief washing over him. He lifted his head again.
"Mike…?" he began but Noble cut him off, raising his hands.
"We haven't got him back yet, but it's definitely in the works." He glanced at his deputy. "Alfie, why don't you raise the bed a little bit? It'll make it easier for us to talk. Is that okay?" He checked with Steve, who nodded, then sat on the stool. The enthusiasm he was exuding was contagious and Steve found himself almost leaning forward.
"A lot's happened while you were sleeping, and all of it good." He suddenly realized he was rushing and stopped, glancing at the bed table. He had noticed the injured man licking his dry lips. "Oh, sorry, ah, you want a drink of water?" he asked. When Steve nodded, Noble glanced at Carter. "Alfie, do you mind?" Shaking his head and smiling, the deputy crossed to the table, poured a glass of ice water, tossed a straw into it and held it for Steve to sip as Noble pressed on.
"Where do I start?" The sheriff said almost to himself, then grinned. "Well, it was just as we suspected. We got a call from one of the Caudill sons about four hours ago."
"One of the sons?" Steve interrupted.
"Ah, yeah, the head of the Caudill family is an old reprobate named J.B. He's at least 90 by now, right, Alfie?" The deputy nodded. "But sharp as a tack and nobody, and I mean nobody, crosses him. None of his eight sons or seventeen grandsons and certainly none of the countless number of great-grandsons.
"Anyway, the son told us they had somethin' we wanted and we had somethin' they wanted and that they were willin' to talk swap. Which, of course, is exactly what we were hopin' they'd say."
"Did you ask him if Mike was still alive?" Steve asked quietly.
Noble nodded. "Yeah, 'course we did." He sounded a little perturbed that Steve needed to question their professionalism, but he also knew the strain the young man was under. Smiling gently, almost in apology, he continued, "Actually, all he said was 'Ya'll git what ya git' but, Steve, I really think Mike's alive. These hill people do have a code – it might not be one we're all familiar with, but it is a code. They know if they give us back a body instead of a cop, that nothin'll stop the entire KSP and the FBI from comin' down on 'em and wipin' 'em out."
Steve had stared at the older man while he talked, and the logic and sincerity in the words rang true. Slowly he began to nod and when Noble paused, a thankful and relieved smile played over his lips. "So, ah, so what happens now?" he asked softly.
Noble glanced over his shoulder at Carter and smiled. "Well, our good luck continued. Remember that judge I told you about yesterday who we went to about the legality of the swap?" Steve nodded. "Well, he said he has no problem with it, so we went to the KSP. Seems Trooper Caudill – the one who saved your life? – well, he'd already been talking to his superiors up in Frankfort and, well… this is on the QT, you hear?" Noble leaned forward and lowered his voice a notch. "The KSP is shutting its metaphorical eyes on this one. They say it's a local matter and should be handled by the local police force in the best way they see fit, and they don't want to hear anymore about it."
Noble sat back, a satisfied grin on his face. Steve stared at him blankly, not quite processing what he had just been told. His eyes slid from the sheriff to the deputy and back. "You mean…?"
"I mean we're getting everything arranged right now. Trooper Caudill and his partner are 'escorting' the two Caudills they have in custody back down here from Frankfort and as soon as they get here, we set up the meet. We could have Mike back in a couple a hours."
He let the younger man deal with the blizzard of new information that had come so fast and furious. As the pieces started to connect in the injured man's narcotized brain, an almost relieved smile started to slowly build. "I want to be there."
Noble hesitated, pulling his head back and frowning. He wasn't sure what he'd heard. "Excuse me?"
"When you make the exchange, I want to be there," Steve said firmly, trying to sit up a little more.
Noble began to stand, shaking his head. "No no no, son, you can't leave this bed. You're not up to it yet."
"I'm fine," Steve said, pushing himself into a sitting position and trying not to wince as pain shot through both his upper right arm and left shoulder.
"Steve, you can't use either arm and your leg. How are you gonna get there?"
"How are you going to get there? By car, right? Well, put me in a car and take me with you." The San Francisco detective stared at Noble with defiance, daring him to deny the request.
"In your hospital gown?" Noble shot back, trying to dissuade the determined young man.
"I have a change of clothes in my suitcase – and I know you have it. You said you had Mike's so you must have mine as well."
His expression unreadable, knowing he was beat, Noble looked at Carter, who just raised his eyebrows and tilted his head.
Steve's audacious stare softened. "Sheriff, I have to be there. Mike's not just my partner, he's my best friend. And I had to leave him behind…" He looked away and cleared his throat. "He's been shot… and he's been on his own… and I need to be there for him… I promised…" He paused, finishing almost inaudibly, "I need to be there for myself."
Noble's eyes finally left the young man's, and he had taken a breath to begin speaking when Carter put a light hand on his boss's shoulder. "I could take him, sir. I'll bring him in my car and we'll keep out of the way, I swear."
Steve looked at the deputy in gratitude, then back to the sheriff. Noble sighed. "All right. If –" he raised a finger and Steve, who had begun to smile, froze, "- if your doctor says it's okay. Am I clear on this?"
There was a lightness in his tone the belied the toughness of his words, and for a split second the country lawman reminded him very much of a certain big city lieutenant. A warmth spread over him that he hadn't felt in awhile and seriously thought he would never feel again.
# # # # #
The KSP cruisers were facing the wide dirt road, the front doors of both cars open to allow the slight breeze to blow into the back seats. Sheriff Noble, Deputy Carruthers and two KSP officers were standing in front of the two cars; in both back seats, a handcuffed young Caudill man sat beside another state trooper.
The day had turned hot and sticky, and the humidity was something the San Francisco detective wasn't used to. He was sitting in the front passenger seat of a Kearney cruiser way off to one side, in the shade of a chestnut oak, almost hidden and definitely away from the action. Deputy Carter was standing beside him at the open door. Both pairs of eyes were on the empty road before them.
Noble glanced at his watch. It was already five minutes past the scheduled meeting time. He shuffled nervously and glanced quickly across to the cruiser where the heavily bandaged and medicated Californian was staring anxiously through the windshield. He could only imagine what the young detective was going through.
"Here they come," he heard one of the KSP troopers announce and turned back to see two dirty blue 1950's era pick-up trucks roll into view over the ridge. Even from a distance they could see at least three large, bearded and heavily armed men standing in the beds of both trucks. Noble heard the KSP troopers unsnap their sidearms and he swallowed with uncharacteristic nervousness.
The first pick-up came straight towards them, then swung into a wide circle and pulled to a stop about 30 yards in front, facing away. The second truck drove straight up alongside it. Leaving the engines idling, the driver of the truck facing them got out. Noble recognized the tall, white haired and bearded elderly man as J.B. Caudill, the family patriarch; even though he was close to 90, he was a force to be reckoned with, and nobody moved.
Steve strained forward in the seat, scrutinizing the trucks. "I don't see Mike," he said apprehensively to Carter, who put a warning hand on his arm. The detective's mere presence was enough to throw a monkey wrench into this entire operation and Carter had to make sure no undue notice would be paid.
"Where are they?" Caudill growled, dispensing with any pretense of civility.
Noble took a step forward. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "In the cruisers. But we want to see Lieutenant Stone before we let them go." He thought by using Mike's title, he could impress upon the family Caudill the importance of their hostage.
The elder Caudill nodded coldly and spat on the ground with a low mirthless chuckle. "It ain' gonna work that way. We git our boys first… or we go home." He finished with a dead-eyed stare that Noble was only just able to meet. In his many years in law enforcement, the Kearney sheriff had never encountered anyone who exuded such frighteningly calm menace as this old man.
Noble hesitated, glancing up at the six heavily armed family members standing in the truck beds and realized any chance of gaining the upper hand in this negotiation was already gone. He turned his head slightly and nodded, and heard two car doors behind him open.
The troopers in the back seats got out of their respective cars, pulling the two Caudill boys out with them. Both boys looked anxiously towards their great-grandfather, their expressions unreadable, and waited while the handcuffs were removed.
Without looking back, the two young Caudills moved slowly away from the cops and started across the neutral territory between the two camps. They continued to eye their great-grandfather as they got closer but his stare never left Noble, who managed to glare back, even though he could feel the sweat trickling down the back of his shirt. And he knew it wasn't from the weather.
"Git in the trucks," Caudill senior growled lowly as his great-grandsons joined him and they continued on to sit in the passenger seats of both pick-ups. Breaking off his stare at Noble, the family patriarch turned slowly, walked the few steps back to his truck and got behind the wheel.
Steve watched as the pick-up facing the police cars crept forward, swung around the second one and then accelerated up the swell and disappeared back towards the holler. He glanced quickly back and forth between Carter and the pick-up that was still there. "Where's Mike?" he whispered anxiously, "They've gotta have him. Where is -?"
Carter put his hand lightly on Steve's right shoulder, careful to avoid the wound in his upper arm, and shushed him quickly. One of the gun-toters in the back of the pick-up glanced their way and Steve froze.
The driver of the second pick-up got out and walked to the back of the truck. He slipped out the two bolts that held the tailgate up, then stepped aside and let it slam down.
Noble inhaled sharply and glanced toward the Kearney cruiser. From that angle, he realized Steve wouldn't be able to see into the truck bed. He looked back at the pick-up and closed his eyes briefly, trying to stay calm. There was a body lying motionless in the bed of the truck, and he easily recognized Mike Stone's black shoes and dark grey suit.