Mike had dropped his head, then looked up at Steve and the others with a wry smile. "You know, a shotgun in the face really helps to focus your mind, pain or no pain." He nodded slowly. "It focused mine."

"What did you say?" Olsen asked curiously.

Mike snorted. "Well, to be perfectly honest, I don't remember my exact words but whatever it was, I'm still here so I think he believed me." He felt Steve's hand on his leg, a quick rub and a pat. Looking at Olsen, he said with a shrug, "I think I told him I was a San Francisco police officer and I didn't have any business with him or his family. I'm pretty sure I told I him I had my badge in my right pocket but that I couldn't get it out. He got one of the sons to do it." He looked at Noble. "Do you know where it is?"

Noble shook his head with a facial shrug. "Sorry, Mike, it wasn't on you when we got you back."

Mike nodded dejectedly. "Damn it. Well, I'm not surprised."

Noble glanced at Steve. "We, ah, we got your guns, both of 'em. Yours too, Steve. We'll hold 'em till you leave. We've got ya well guarded, and if anything were to happen we just wanta make sure nobody can say it was you that started it, ya know what I mean? In these parts, you just never know, so we have to be extra careful."

Steve glanced worriedly at his partner, but Mike had been watching Noble and now he just nodded. "I understand, Eli. It's not a problem. You know these people better then we do, that's for sure."

Olsen, who had listened to all this with deepening consternation, glanced with a furrowed brow from his lieutenant to the sheriff but held his tongue. He definitely trusted his colleague and if Mike trusted Noble, then he did too.

Steve gestured towards the bedtable. "You did have your wallet on you," he informed his partner with a small smile. "It's in there. Everything's still in it."

Mike snorted. "Well, J.B. sorta said he'd leave me alone, and I guess he did." His look was far away.

Pearson leaned forward a bit. "What did he say to you?"

Mike looked up and almost laughed. "Well, after he looked at my badge, he pretty well cut me out of the conversation. I know I was having trouble staying awake, and I'm not sure but I think my shoulder was starting to bleed again. They got me up and sat me on a chair, and I guess I was spending most of the time trying not to fall off.

"But I do remember a bunch of them having an argument about… grandsons… or something like that?" He looked to Noble for confirmation and the sheriff nodded, glancing at the KSP sergeant.

"We'd picked up a couple of his great-grandsons in Frankfort a couple a days earlier," Pearson offered, and Mike nodded discerningly.

"So that was it, hunh? I was going to be used in a prisoner swap. I'd been wondering about that." Mike chuckled dryly to himself. "I figured it had to be something like that, 'cause there was really no reason to keep me alive, at least that's how I felt at the time." He sobered and looked at his partner, inhaling deeply before saying quietly, "All the fight had gone out of me, I guess, after those shots…"

Steve swallowed heavily, biting his lower lip and tightening his grip on Mike's leg. He smiled warmly and, with the eye those sitting in the chairs couldn't see, he winked.

Mike's face lit up and he dropped his eyes and laughed quietly. Shaking his head resignedly, he glanced at Olsen and the others and continued, "Fellas, like I said before, I don't remember too much of my time with the Caudills; I guess I was drifting in and out a lot. Which, believe me, was a good thing, both physically and emotionally.

"So much had happened in such a short time… it was a little overwhelming. And I really didn't think I was going to get out of there alive."

"That's understandable," Olsen mumbled, still attempting to come to terms with the ordeal his men had been through.

"I do remember one thing though, very vividly," Mike offered quietly, and his gaze suddenly became very far away. He blinked quickly a couple of times and looked at Noble. "Does J.B. have a brother?"

The sheriff leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "A few of 'em, all younger. You talkin' about one in particular?"

Mike nodded. "I don't remember hearing a name, but he was a lot shorter than J.B. and a lot stockier. He had the same white beard, and he was wearing denim overalls and a baseball cap with a Confederate flag on it."

Noble smiled in spite of himself. "Yeah, ah, that would be Dexter; they call him 'Shorty'." He shook his head and exhaled loudly. "He's not J.B., that's for sure. He's always been a bit of a wild hair. As much as everybody lives in fear of J.B., at least he thinks before he acts. Shorty acts before he thinks. And from what I've heard, he hates anybody that ain't a Caudill."

Pearson, who had been watching Noble as he spoke, turned to Mike and nodded. "Eli's absolutely right about that. We've never been able to prove it, of course, but rumor has it that Shorty's responsible for at least five murders in the past ten or twelve years. But nobody's ever come forward and we don't have anything concrete so…." He shrugged with a helpless inevitability.

"Murders? Are you talking about within the Four Families?" Steve asked.

Pearson nodded. "Yep, that's why we can't get to him – nobody says anything and it all stays in the hollers. Makes for some challenging policing, let me tell ya."

Olsen, who had been listening closely to all this, looked at his two detectives. "I'll never complain about our crime rate again," he said with a dry laugh, shaking his head. Both Mike and Steve smiled at him with raised eyebrows.

"Mike," Noble ventured cautiously, "ah, why did you ask about Dexter?"

The older detective looked at the sheriff and released a deep breath before saying, "Well, I'm not really sure when it happened, but I was having one of my more lucid moments. I was still sitting in the chair, I remember that, and I heard something about somebody making a phone call – I guess maybe to arrange a meet, but I have no idea."

When both Steve and Noble nodded, Mike smiled briefly and continued, "Well, I guess Dexter wasn't too happy about that. I think he wanted to kill me right then and there. He was stalking around the room with this shotgun in his hands and all I can remember is I was so out of it I don't think I cared if he shot me or not." He felt Steve's hand tighten once more on his leg.

"I do remember J.B. yelling 'It's done, it's over!' And I saw… Shorty storm across the room and then he turned quickly and started back at me… I saw the butt of the shotgun come up and he slammed it into me… I'm pretty sure it was into my right shoulder… the last thing I saw was this blinding light and then… then I woke up here…" Mike was looking down, staring at the sheets on the bed when he voice trailed off.

Nobody moved for several long seconds then Pearson cleared his throat lightly and shifted forward in the chair. "Thanks, Lieutenant," he began quietly, "I know that couldn't have been easy, but it was important for us to hear."

Mike looked up at the KSP officer and nodded. "I just want to make sure, Sergeant –"

"Jim, please, Mike, call me Jim," Pearson interrupted gently, with a genial smile.

Mike mirrored his look, nodding. "You're right, Jim, of course. Thank you. I, ah, I just want to make sure that nobody thinks I was mistreated by the Caudills, I mean, you know, other than Shorty, and I'm not even a hundred percent sure about that. But J.B. and his sons?" He shook his head with a facial shrug. "I'm still here, I'm still alive. They didn't have to do that. I know he needed me to trade for his great-grandsons, I have no illusions about that. But there was nothing stopping him from making my situation a whole hell of a lot worse." He paused, and inhaled deeply. "I just don't want to make this any more difficult for everybody that lives around here than it already is."

Pearson nodded. "Understood, Mike. And thank you." Noble was also nodding. "Look, ah, we better get out of here and let you get some rest. We've taken up enough of your time." He stood up and the others followed. Taking a step towards the bed, he held out his right hand. "Lieutenant, thank you. I know how difficult these past few days have been and I guarantee you, the next few are going to be a lot easier." Mike held out his left hand and they shook awkwardly, both grinning.

"Steve," Pearson said, turning to the younger detective and shaking his hand as well, "thank you too, and I'll be talking to you soon, to get your statement. Maybe tomorrow?"

Steve nodded. "Sounds good."

With a genial smile, Pearson started to turn away. "Both of you, get well soon, okay?" He strode towards the door as Noble and Olsen got closer to the bed.

"See you soon, Mike," Noble said with a smile, a quick pat on Mike's arm and a glance to Steve before turning away as well.

"I, ah, I'm gonna meet up with Marty and go over what he's got. I'll see you two later," Olsen said awkwardly, still feeling profoundly guilty.

"Sure, Rudy," Mike responded genially, trying to let the captain off the hook but knowing he was failing gloriously. He glanced at Steve and their wide-eyed shared look confirmed they were both aware of Olsen's continuing self-imposed culpability.

The hospital room door had barely closed behind the three visitors when Steve slid off the bed and bent down to retrieve the crutches.

"Where are you going?" Mike asked.

As Steve straightened up and put the crutch pads under his arms, he glanced back at the bed. "I'll be right back," he said as he crossed quickly to the door and maneuvered it open.

"Eli," Steve called out softly as he glimpsed the three police officers halfway to the elevators. The sheriff turned; the others stopped. "Can I speak to you for a minute?"

Noble glanced guiltily down at the hat in his hands then said to the others. "Give me a second. I'll meet you guys in the lobby, okay?" He started back towards Steve as Olsen and Pearson continued towards the elevators.

Steve waited till Noble got closer before he said quietly, "Eli, I, ah, I noticed you looked a little concerned when I told you about Mike's surgery tomorrow. Anything I should know about?"

The Kearney sheriff looked away and exhaled loudly. "Steve, remember ya askin' me about meetin' with the Rutters?"

The detective nodded.

"Well, I was gonna call ya later, when you were back in your motel room." He paused and fidgeted nervously. "Look, I got in touch with them, though channels and, ah, well, he's being buried tomorrow mornin'. And I got word that Donny Lee's father - Robert E. Lee Rutter? Well, he's agreed to see ya after the service is over."

Steve pulled his head back slightly and stared at Noble. "Where is he being buried?"

"The, ah, the family has a graveyard of their own, somewhere in the holler. We have no idea where. But the old man got word to me that he'd meet with ya afterwards. So I asked Lonny if he was willing to drive ya up the holler to meet the family, and he said he would."

"So… what's the problem?"

"Well, I kinda thought ya might want to be here for Mike when he goes in for the surgery?"

With a glance behind him at the hospital door, Steve hesitated, grateful for the concern. "What time did you set the meeting with the Rutters up for?"

"One o'clock."

"Mike's surgery is scheduled for noon. They've told us it could take a couple of hours and then he'll spend some time in Recovery before he gets back to his room." He paused and looked Noble. "How long will it take us to get to the Rutters?"

Noble shrugged. "Over an hour, I would think, they're almost all the way to the 75. But Lonny knows these roads better'n anyone I know and he'll be drivin' lights and sirens. He can get ya there and back as fast as is humanly possible, I can guarantee ya."

"I want to do it. Don't worry, I'll tell Mike. We have no secrets, he and I, and he'll understand, believe me. He took the news of Rutter's death pretty hard. He believes Donny Lee saved his life too. If he knows I'm going to talk to Donny Lee's parents, he'll want me to go, to say to them all the things he wishes he could say."

Noble smiled. The integrity of these city detectives was both heartening and overwhelming. "I'll tell Lonny. He'll be here at 11 and you guys can just leave when ya think it's right." He began to turn away and looked back. "Say goodbye to Mike for me again, will ya?"

Steve smiled warmly and he nodded. "You bet. Thanks, Sheriff."

Noble smiled all the way to the elevator.