One by one, Sonny held the boys’ heads under the water for the allotted time. Jake Whitten twitched after about a minute under the surface, but then he stopped, and Sonny tried not to think about his freezing hands or Snake’s pistol as he waited for Snake to call time. The colder he got, the easier it was to imagine Snake saying, “Sorry, Sonny boy, Forrest’s orders.”
But Snake never said that.
After catching his breath on the pontoon, Sonny climbed back into the Cessna and collapsed into his seat while Snake taxied back to open water. Forty seconds later, they were airborne again, climbing for the clouds. Snake remarked that two missions had just been accomplished with a minimum of conversation, and that mostly curses. That was how vets worked in combat zones, he said with nostalgia, and Sonny grunted in agreement. But inside, Sonny was still a wreck.
“Forrest may be slow to pull the trigger,” Snake said, “but once he makes up his mind, he don’t take chances or prisoners. Ask them jellylegs we left back there in the swamp.” Snake’s harsh laughter bounced off the windscreen and hurt Sonny’s ears. “Ask Henry Sexton,” he added.
Shivering in his seat, Sonny gave the obligatory laugh.
I’ve gotta calm down, he thought. Snake’s gonna see I’ve got the yips. And if he does, he’ll start to worry. And if Snake starts worrying, Forrest will, too. And I won’t live to see my grandson again.
“A perfect head shot, you said?” Sonny asked with feigned awe.
“Punched right through his skull. Got his girlfriend in the eye. Wish you coulda seen it, Son. She dropped like a sack of meal.”
“Damn,” Sonny said, trying to hold down the contents of his stomach. “I wish I could have, boy.”
CHAPTER 80
BY THE TIME I penetrated Sheriff Dennis’s outer perimeter and started looking for Caitlin, John Kaiser and a couple of his agents were on the scene and working to restore calm at the hospital. Nevertheless, I found weeping nurses, a panicked administrator, and rattled deputies milling through the halls. Just as I saw Caitlin down a corridor, Walker Dennis appeared beside me, grabbed my arm, and pulled me into an empty hospital room.
“You and I need to talk,” he said in an urgent tone, “before we see anybody else.”
“What is it, Walker?”
“A little while ago you asked me to keep that ‘Mr. Brown’ call about Brody Royal to myself. Is that still how you want to play it? With the FBI, I mean? Because in light of what’s happened, I’m thinking anything could be important, no matter how crazy it might sound.”
All I can think about is the copied audio recording of Katy Royal in my back pocket—something I don’t want John Kaiser to know about until my father has reached some safe place. “Walker, this may not make much sense to you, but I’d still prefer to keep that call between the two of us.”
His eyes narrow. “Are you onto something about Brody? Even without the wiretaps?”
I nod. “Please don’t ask me what it is now. I’ll tell you as soon as I can. I’m trying to save my father’s life, or I wouldn’t ask this of you. Can you live with that?”
Sheriff Dennis looks into my eyes for several seconds, then sighs. “I guess I can. But if you think Brody ordered Henry shot tonight, I wish you’d tell me now.”
“I don’t know, Walker. If I had to lay money on it, I’d say the Knoxes are behind this. That’s who Henry was stirring up the most. You don’t happen to know where Brody is now, do you?”
“I just checked on that, as a matter of fact. He and his family are over at St. Catherine’s Hospital. His daughter’s in a coma in their ICU.”
“Thanks, buddy.”
Walker’s eyes radiate suspicion from beneath his hat brim. “You don’t happen to know how she got that way, do you?”
“I’ll tell you that story later, too.”
The sheriff shakes his head like he’s not looking forward to hearing the answer. “All right. We’d better go see if Kaiser’s turned up anything. He used to be a big dog in the Investigative Support Unit, you know. And I’m not going to pretend I don’t need the help.”
When Sheriff Dennis and I reach the end of the corridor, we find John Kaiser questioning Caitlin and the deputy who was guarding the door during the shooting. Jordan Glass stands a discreet distance away. Caitlin looks like she’s barely holding herself together. Unlike Kaiser’s wife, she hasn’t had much direct exposure to violence. When Kaiser asks the deputy a question, I hug Caitlin tight, then whisper into the shell of her ear: “Don’t say anything about Katy’s tape. Okay?”