Page 98 of Nash Falls
He went into the house to find Judith in the kitchen making a cup of tea.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“I went for a drive.”
“I didn’t hear the garage door open.”
“I… Look, are you feeling… better?”
She confronted him with a harsh look. “No, Walter, I’mnotfeeling better, okay? Our daughter is gone. My God, what is wrong with you?”
“With me!”
She stormed from the room without answering him.
He called Shock and told him about the latest development.
“Okay, Walter, they are obviously settin’ you up for all this.”
“I know, but how did I not notice the damage to my car?”
“I don’t know. But you didn’t, and that played into their hands. They took a risk, though, since you called RamosbeforeBilly was killed. If he’d answered you back right away he could have talked to Billy before they had a chance to silence him. But he didn’t, and then Steers made sure he never could tell the police anythin’. They might have assumed that given what the fake cops told him the kid wouldn’t have mentioned it to the real cops. But Steers’s people might have had you or him or both of you under surveillance andseen or heard your exchange with Billy where he told you about the fake cops.”
“So I might have been the reason he was killed?” said an anguished Nash.
“This is the fault of nobody other than the people who actually did it, Walter.”
“But Ramos must know I wouldn’t have been driving the damn SUV around if I had known it had evidence all over it.”
Shock barked, “Look, get one goddamn thing straight right now in your head. This ain’t TV, Walter. The real cops always look for the easy and obvious. They don’t have an episode’s worth of time or resources to go over every nook and cranny or think outside the box. They care ’bout makin’ an arrest and then makin’ it stick. The question of actual guilt or innocence does not weigh as heavily as you may think. And you drivin’ it ’round? They think all criminals are stupid and make mistakes just like that. Or the bad guys think they’re smarter than the cops, and still do stupid shit that gets ’em caught. I think this Ramos dude saw how you live and what you got and that’s the path he’s takin’. He’d love nothin’ more than deep-sixin’ your ass in prison for life regardless whether you actually did anythin’ wrong.”
A shaken Nash exclaimed, “I might be screwed.”
“You might be. But let me see what I can do. Now, Walter?”
“Yeah?”
“Guaranteed this sucker is gonna get worse before it gets better. And there’s a chance it ain’t never gonna get better.”
Shock clicked off, leaving Nash paralyzed.
Later, he made himself an egg and toast for dinner and then retreated to his home office with a cup of coffee. He placed his phone in front of him and waited for either Shock or Agent Morris to get back to him.
By midnight neither one had.
He went upstairs. As he was brushing his teeth and then washing his face he glanced at the hairbrush he used every morning. Hepicked it up and pulled out the hairs stuck among the bristles of the brush. He threw them away in the trash can.
It’s a miracle I’m not all gray.
He walked into his closet and looked around, something gnawing at him intensely, although he wasn’t sure what it was exactly.
A sense of impending doom, perhaps?
On sudden impulse he grabbed a small carry-on bag and put some clothes, shoes, and toiletries inside, along with cash that he took from the wall safe behind a panel in his closet. Inside the safe were his father’s .45 and Army Ka-bar knife. He loaded both into his bag along with extra ammo mags. Zipping it closed, he set it on top of one of his shelves and walked out.
The motto of the Boy Scouts: Be prepared.
Judith was now in the bedroom’s sitting area. She had the locket that she wore in her hands. It was open and she was looking down at the picture there. She sat up when Nash called out to her.
