Lone Creek

48

But by the time I got to the red rock canyons of Wolf Creek, I'd become aware of a disturbing undercurrent that I couldn't get hold of. It wasn't any hesitation about whether I could pull the trigger. It wasn't fear, either. I'd been getting more scared as the reality neared, true, but also more exhilarated. It was something like getting into the ring, although with infinitely higher stakes.

I turned off the freeway at the exit to Lincoln, the shortest route to the Pettyjohn Ranch. But then I pulled over and waited by the roadside a minute.

I hadn't planned on seeing Madbird-I figured I'd bring him up-to-date as soon as I got the chance. But now I decided it would be best to warn him-even Madbird might slip up if he got blindsided. I'd made good time getting here and it wouldn't take much longer.

At least that's what I started off telling myself. But really, it was about that different world that I'd blundered into, where nothing would ever be the same again. Madbird had opened his great fierce heart to me, been my guide and protector, taken huge risks, for no reasons that logic could touch-just his odd liking for me and the joy of being a guerrilla Indian.

I was a child there. I needed him again, this time not for tangible help, but for some form of blessing. Maybe that would quell the uneasiness that was crawling around under my skin.

I got to his place, pulled the pickup into his drive, and waited beside it. He'd hear it and come out, although he wasn't going to be real happy to see me in the middle of the night.

The door opened a minute later. He walked out wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that looked hastily pulled on.

"What's the problem, you run out of beer?" he said.

"Sorry to wake you."

He grunted, his gaze checking out the truck.

"Where's your pal?" he said.

"Great Falls."

"Lucky girl. So what's going on?"

I had a hard time speaking the words. They felt like bluster.

"I'm going to take out Balcomb," I said. "I thought I'd better tell you."

Madbird folded his arms and cocked his head to the side.

"Well, I ain't saying that's a bad idea," he said. "I hope you got it figured real careful. You know the cops are going to come down hard on you."

"The best I could. Whatever happens, I'll keep you out of the loop."

"Laurie OK with this?"

"She told me how to set it up."

"No shit?"

"He'll be in his office," I said. "Lit windows, easy shot."

"What about after?"

"She'll back me up with money and lawyers."

"No shit," Madbird said again.

Then he stepped forward, a movement so swift and abrupt it was almost a lunge, and clenched my shirtfront in his fist.

"Let me tell you something, white boy." His voice was harsh and his eyes were hard. I stared into them with disbelief. Madbird had never treated me like that.

"You remember when she said she lost her watch? That was bullshit. I seen her pull it out of her pocket. She wanted a excuse to ride with me. Soon as she got in, she was all over me-tongue in my ear and her hand like this." He slapped his inner thigh.

My jaw sagged open. I couldn't speak. I felt like I was floating, with no power of control.

"She wanted me to ditch you," he said. "Said she knew I was the warrior that got sent to save her. I told her, go home with the one that brung you."

He shoved me ungently against the truck and stalked back to lean in the doorway.

"You got to kill that motherfucker, go kill him," Madbird said. "But don't do it for her."

With the blinders ripped off my eyes, I saw with sudden vicious clarity the imp that had been tormenting my subconscious, hidden under the intensity of the long day past.

When Laurie had come racing to my cabin to warn me about John Doe, how the hell had she known how to get there? Finding a place like mine took work. Even with directions, maps, a GPS system, somebody who didn't know the area wasn't about to home straight in on it, let alone when she was driving in panicked flight from a hired killer.

She had been there before. She had pointedly avoided telling me so. She had to have a reason for both those things.

The jolts kept rocking me hard and fast.

I know how to deal with fire.

There were people who thought it was me.

I finally got my voice back.

"My lumber," I said. "She's the one who torched it. That was her."

When I got back to Great Falls, she was gone.