Steve looked at Donny Lee's mother and nodded. "Yes, ma'm." He glanced at Robert Rutter, swallowed and took a deep breath. "After we left my partner behind, we just kept going through the bush. Donny Lee had told me he didn't know exactly where we were or where we were going but he just wanted to get us as far away from the car as possible, then in the morning he would find a way out." He smiled briefly. "I thought that was pretty smart. We'd walked for hours when we heard gunshots way off in the distance. I think we both knew it had to be rifles because they sounded far away. I panicked; I thought whoever was chasing us had found Mike but he assured me the shots didn't come from there." He smiled slightly again. "I believed him."
Both of Rutter's parents were looking at him almost tenderly, and there was an unexpected moistness in Robert's eyes.
Steve hesitated before he continued. "We were resting under some trees when we heard the dogs. Donny Lee'd told Mike and me earlier that we were on Caudill land, but when he heard those dogs, he seemed to know it was the Scobies." Ruth-Anne gasped and her grip on her husband's hand tightened even more. "We, ah, we started to run but we didn't get very far… All I remember is I was knocked off my feet and fell hard against a tree." His right hand drifted up to his left shoulder and his stare became unfocused.
"I guess I was stunned, I couldn't move. Your son was ahead of me… he could have kept going, he could have left me… but he didn't." He looked up into Robert's unblinking eyes. "He didn't. He came back to me. A bullet had passed through my upper right arm and I didn't even know it. He pulled me to my feet and told me keep running, that we had to give them a moving target." He dropped his eyes and took a deep, unsteady breath. "One bullet flew by us, and another hit a tree beside your son. He almost fell but he didn't…"
Steve stopped talking and took several deep breaths before looking up into the dread filled faces of Donald Lee Rutter's parents. "Your son was slightly ahead of me, still leading me through the bush, when he was, ah, he was hit from behind… He, ah, he…" Unable to continue, Steve stared into Robert's eyes. "I firmly believe he was dead before he hit the ground," he said softly.
Ruth-Anne sobbed again and clutched her husband's hands in both her own; Robert continued to stare at the detective, who returned the look evenly and strongly. Eventually Donny Lee's father asked, "How, ah, how did you hurt your leg?"
Steve bit his lower lip and swallowed. "I, ah, I was trying to get to him and, ah, they shot me through my lower leg."
"You were shot twice?" Robert's voice was soft and awed.
"Yes, sir," Steve nodded, then watched in amazement as the older man reached towards him and laid a comforting hand on his forearm.
"How, ah, how did you get away?"
Steve almost smiled. "The KSP and the cops from Kearney were following the Scobies and a couple of them were former military snipers. I was lucky; they got to me in time but it was close… it was very, very close."
Ruth-Anne's sobs were the only sounds in the room. Robert had looked down, and Steve could see his shoulders shaking. He closed his eyes, trying not to let the escalating despair consume him. He knew he had to stay in control, for everybody's sake.
Eventually Donny Lee's father looked at him again, and he was almost overwhelmed to see the gratitude in the heartbroken eyes. Inhaling deeply, Steve said strongly, "Mr. and Mrs. Rutter, there's one more thing." He felt every eye in the room on him once more.
"Before we left him behind, my partner gave me his gun. He told me we'd need it more than he would. When we heard the dogs, I decided to give Donny Lee Mike's gun, in case he could use it to defend himself. I knew he wouldn't use it on me." Steve could feel the tears building in his own eyes. "I trusted your son with my life… and if he were here now, I would do it again."
With a wail of despair, Ruth-Anne Rutter crossed the short distance between the chairs and, aware of Steve's injuries, got on her knees before him and pulled him into her arms. He allowed himself to be enveloped by her, his own arms encircling her gently, his head against her shoulder. Robert Rutter had stood and stepped closer, and Steve felt the older man's hand on the back of his head.
As he took deep shuddering breaths in an attempt to get himself under control, Steve allowed them to continue to show him their gratitude and respect. Eventually he felt Robert's hand leave the back of his head and Ruth-Anne's tight hold loosened, and both he and her husband helped her to her feet. Robert wrapped his arms around her and led her away.
Steve sat back in the armchair, looking down, the fingers of both hands digging into the deep blue upholstery of the arms. He didn't notice when J.D. Rutter crossed the room and loomed over him. Steve looked up and swallowed involuntarily.
The family patriarch seemed almost chastened. He opened his mouth to say something then hesitated, a move that Steve knew was probably highly uncharacteristic. J.D. did not seem to be a man who ever had second thoughts. Finally he got out, "Thank you." And there was a sincerity in his voice that was humbling.
Not sure if he could trust his own voice at first, Steve nodded, blinking quickly. He cleared his throat. "You're welcome, sir."
J.D. almost smiled, then he moved away, nodding at someone across the room.
Steve stayed where he was, trying to slow his pounding heart. Things had seemed to go as well, if not better than, he had hoped. And he was no longer worried about being surrounded by this 'redneck' family. He smiled inwardly; he knew his partner would be both fascinated and relieved. He glanced at his watch again. Hopefully the operation was over by now and Mike was in Recovery. He should be back in his room by the time Steve returned to the hospital.
A teenaged girl approached Steve's chair with a TV tray and, with a shy, almost innocently coquettish way set it down in front of him and moved off. She was followed by another young woman carrying a large serving platter, which she put on another TV tray that had been set up nearby. The platter held several mugs, a pitcher of milk, a bowl of sugar and a pile of spoons. Another woman had followed in her wake, a pot of coffee in each hand.
The first woman handed Steve a mug. As he held it out, the second filled it then gestured for him to help himself to the milk and sugar, which had been moved to within his easy reach. Looking up, he suddenly realized that all the men he could see were now holding mugs and the woman went from one to the other. He smiled warmly.
As he was stirring his coffee, Ruth-Anne reappeared and, with a broad though melancholy smile, placed a china plate holding an enormous piece of apple pie on the tray in front of him. Almost speechless, he looked up into her kind eyes and stammered, "Um, ah, thank you, Mrs. Rutter." He inhaled the wonderfully mouth-watering aroma. "Did you make this?"
She smiled proudly and nodded. "Yes, I did. It's an old family recipe," she whispered with a wink, and he was gratified to see her heartwarming attempt at normality, touched by her grace and hospitality at such a difficult time.
Her husband approached, plates of pie in both hands, and he gestured with his head for his wife to sit in the vacated armchair. She hesitated at first then did as instructed and, as he sat on the arm, he handed one of the plates to her. He looked at Steve, and with a soft, understanding nod, invited him to dig in.
The pastry was extraordinarily light and the baked apples unlike anything he had tasted before, and Steve made sure that Ruth-Anne was aware of this. She beamed at him shyly.
They ate and drank the robust but smooth coffee with a warm and unexpected affinity, and were almost finished when Steve asked hesitantly, "Mr. Rutter, if you don't mind my asking, sir… I'm just curious as to how Donny Lee ended up running drugs all the way out in San Francisco?"
Finished his pie, Robert put the empty plate on the TV tray, deliberately avoiding Steve's eyes, or so it seemed to the younger man. Taking a deep breath, Robert glanced up towards his father before he turned to the city cop.
"Donny Lee wasn't just our youngest, he was… well, different from the others. Donny Lee wanted to see the world outside the holler. Now most of the young'uns around here, they feel the same way, but they wait 'til they have a little more water under their bridges, so to speak, before they give it a try.
"Donny Lee was different. He wanted to leave almost before he could walk. When he was growin' up he would run away from the holler every coupla months an' we'd have to go find him an' drag him back."
Robert's stare turned inward and he almost smiled. "When he was about fifteen, we knew he wasn't gonna be around for long, so I set him down an' I told him, if he was gonna leave an' go somewheres else, he could do so with my blessing but he had to promise me he wouldn't do anything aginst the law."
Steve, who was listening intently, almost smiled at Robert's last statement, something the astute 'hillbilly' caught.
"Yes, I do know we make a livin' runnin' 'shine, but contrary to what you may have heard from someone else, we Rutters do not an' have not ever run drugs. Never have and never will. We don' abide by 'em. No, what I meant about Donny Lee was him gettin' into runnin' drugs or thievin' or somethin' with women or worse. I didn't want him to spend the rest of his life in prison. An' he promised me…. he promised me…" His voice trailed off slowly and sadly.
"Why do you think he came back here now?" Steve asked carefully as he put his now empty pie plate on the tray.
Robert shrugged wearily. "He was scared, an' this is the only place he truly knows… He shouldn't a come home…"
Ruth-Anne's head had lowered as she listened to their conversation and as she sat with the plate in her lap, tears dripped from her downturned face. Robert put an arm around her and pulled her close.
Steve sighed quietly, regretting his decision to bring the conversation back to their deceased son. He dropped his head, staring unfocussed into the middle distance.
Suddenly he felt a hand on his forearm and he looked up to see Robert staring at him sympathetically. "Um, Steve, Ruth-Anne and I were wondering if you'd like to see where Donny Lee is buried?"
His face brightening, almost overwhelmed by the offer, he straightened up and nodded. "Yes. Yes, I would like that very much."
With a smile at his wife, Robert nodded and stood. "Good. Good. Well, ah, you wait right here, we'll bring a truck around. It's too far for you to try to get there on those things," he gestured towards the crutches leaning against the wall by the door, "so we'll put you in a truck an' drive you there. How does that sound?"
Steve smiled gratefully. "That sounds just fine, Mr. Rutter."