Chasing a Blond Moon(35)

Service explained what he knew.

“You didn’t tell me,” she said.

“We had other things to think about,” he said.

“Don’t patronize me,” she snapped at him. “If you knew, I should have known.”

“Can it, Candi.”

“Did you see Nantz?” Service asked Vilardo.

“She was still at the hospital when I left. She’ll still be there with Moody.”

Vince took both of them into the emergency room and stitched them. McCants got four, Service got eleven. They both got tetanus boosters and a bolus of antibiotics.

McCants was acting poochy and Service left her alone, knowing she needed to come down from stress in her own way and her own time. She would come out of it.

He saw Nantz standing outside the emergency room. When he walked out she came over to him and hugged him. There were no tears, only the warmth of her touch.

“I called Walter,” she said, “as soon as I heard.”

“He doesn’t need to know.”

“He’s your son,” she said, “and when his father gets hurt, he deserves to know.”

“You shouldn’t have called him,” he said.

“Afraid somebody might care?” she said.

They found Gutpile Moody sitting with McCants, who was shaking her head.

“Guess what?” she said.

Service shrugged. He was in no mood for guessing games.

“The vehicle that hit Kate was a 2002 dark blue Ford 150.”

“Plate verified?”

“It was Verse,” she said. “Probably afraid to directly confront Eddie, so he took his vengeance on Kate.”

Moody sighed. “Verse is yellow. I busted him several times. Too stupid to learn. Worst combo in the world, no brains and high ambition. I wish I knew they’d released him. He wasn’t supposed to be out until next winter. Guess I won’t have to deal with him anymore.”

Service shook his head in disbelief. What were the odds? Then he smiled in resignation. When it came to crime and coincidence, odds often went out the window.

“You still want me to check on that Wisconsin thing?” McCants asked.

“I’m sorry I held back on Kate,” he said.

“I probably would’ve done the same,” she admitted. “I’ll get hold of Wisconsin soon as I can.” She offered her hand in a gentle high five.

Service wanted to look in on Kate Nordquist, but she was doped and out. “Tomorrow,” a nurse said.

Moody said he was staying put in the hospital until she was out of the woods.

“Could be three or four days before they know about the leg,” Vince Vilardo said.

“I’m staying,” Moody said.

As they got to the hospital lobby, Captain Ware Grant was coming in. He looked tired, his skin color gray and dull. “You and McCants?”

“We’re fine, Cap’n.”

“Officer Nordquist?”

“Her leg is bad. They’ve done surgery, but it’s still touch and go that she’ll keep it.”

The captain’s eyes blazed.

“They got the man who did this,” Service said.

“Who?”

“Name is Verse. He was in a meth lab. A fourteen-year-old girl shot him.”

The captain patted Service’s shoulder gently and walked into the hospital.

In Nantz’s truck heading for home in Gladstone, she rubbed his leg and said nothing.

“The Cap’n doesn’t look healthy,” Service said, thinking about the stroke the captain had had last year. Doctors had returned him to duty, declaring he had no deficits; still, his color wasn’t normal.

“Everyone’s tired,” Nantz said. “You pick up on any vibrations from Gutpile?”

He shook his head.

“He’s in love with Kate,” she said.

“Gutpile?”

“Yut,” she said. “Mr. Solo himself.”

“Does she know?”

“Yut.”

“And?”

“Let’s just say the feelings are not unreciprocated.”





8

Newf came to Service’s side when he walked into the house, bumped his thigh, and lifted her head for his hand. “Have you seen Cat?” he asked Nantz, looking around. It had been days since he had seen her. He had found the animal years ago in a cloth bag of eight kittens somebody had drowned in Slippery Creek near his cabin. Why this one survived was beyond him, but she had lived and turned into a feline misanthrope. He had never gotten around to naming her, which made her an animal he could relate to.

Service checked the answering machine. There were two messages, the first from Walter. “Just checking to see how things are over there.”

“Now we’re things?” Service grumbled.

Nantz held up her hand. “Your son called. He’s concerned.”