C. Box: Breaking Point

Batista shook his head but wouldn’t look at Joe. And here is where Marybeth’s additional research into Pate had really paid off.

Joe said, “It turned out to be quite a scene that night in that club, didn’t it? You grabbed Pam by the arm because you caught her talking to this redneck from back home, and the redneck wiped the floor with you. In front of your friends! The police report you filed against Butch said you had multiple contusions and some broken ribs. But the Fort Collins cops never arrested Butch because he was gone by then, and he’d taken Pam with him. She dumped you like a hot rock. Then she dropped out of school and actually married the guy.”

Joe noticed the cords in Batista’s neck were as tight as guitar strings.

“And it festered, didn’t it?” Joe asked. “She forgot all about you, but you couldn’t keep her out of your mind. Even after you changed your name and started climbing through the bureaucracy, it still burned hot, didn’t it? That this silly girl had picked an uneducated loser over you?

“So a year ago you tracked her down and called her. You didn’t give her your new name or tell her exactly what you did at the time, just that you were very successful. You claimed you just wanted to touch base with her and see how she was doing after all these years, but you were obviously hoping she’d hear your voice and maybe she’d come to her senses. Instead, she told you never to contact her again. She said she and Butch were happy and they had a daughter now and they were doing well. In fact, they’d just bought this piece of land. .”

Joe sat back and waited for Batista to turn his head and look at him.

When he did, Joe said, “Pam told us all this after she saw your photo on the agency website last week. Your face brought up some bad old memories for her, but your call to her meant so little she’d forgotten about it, and she never even told Butch. That must sting a little, huh?” Joe said, twisting the knife.

“I don’t have to listen to this,” Batista hissed.

“Here’s where my wife’s timeline comes in,” Joe said, pushing on. “A year ago, at the time you made that call, the Sackett case in Idaho was getting some attention. Even some of your colleagues in Region Eight were alarmed. But you didn’t look at it that way. You looked at the details of what had been done to the Sacketts and saw it as a perfect way to ruin Pam and Butch. You could dish back some of the pain and humiliation they’d caused you. So from your anonymous perch behind a desk in Denver, you researched the lot they’d purchased and you found Blevins. From your position of power, you set this thing in motion and thought you’d crush them without the Robersons or anyone else ever tying it back to you.”

Joe paused for a moment, and then said, “Then you sent those two agents up here to die.”

Batista erupted and slammed the table with his cuffed hands. “I did not! They were supposed to serve the compliance order and come back.”

Joe glanced at the camera in the top right corner of the room, as if to say “Got him.” Then he shifted back to Batista.

“No, I’m sure you didn’t,” he said. “I actually believe you had no idea there would be shooting. But when it happened-you panicked. You saw your world and career about to blow up if the story got out, though, so you tried to do damage control. You were determined to take Butch out because if he talked it might lead back to you. And today you were going to threaten or murder Pam before she could expose you and what you did to them. The press conference was my wife’s idea to get you up here so you could be prosecuted locally. I wasn’t so sure you were this desperate and stupid, but Blevins confirmed it. And he’ll confirm it on the stand.”

“He’s a liar,” Batista said.

“Maybe,” Joe agreed. “But you were the one caught with the shotgun.”

Batista sneered, but his face had completely drained of color.

“You know what first got me to thinking that something was hinky with you?” Joe said, sitting back. “It’s when you had Underwood announce that reward. It was a desperation move, and it especially didn’t make sense to me that a glory-hungry political hack like you would pass up an opportunity to get his name in the papers. But you didn’t want Pam or Butch to recognize you as John Pate and put things together, right? Your only shot to save yourself was to get them both out of the picture before they figured the scheme out. And now look at you.”

Joe stood and shook his head. “You destroyed a family and five people died, one by your hand. You abused your power in the worst possible way. As far as I’m concerned, nothing that happens now is bad enough for you.”

“My lawyer. .” Batista said, but didn’t finish his thought.

After closing the door of the interrogation room, Joe leaned into Reed’s office.

“That help?” he asked.

“I’m going to crucify that piece of shit,” Dulcie seethed.

“That’s my girl,” Joe said.

To Reed: “Please tell Butch what happened. He’ll want to start pumping iron for when he runs into Batista in prison.”

Reed barked a laugh.

“Man,” Joe said with a heavy sigh, “I think I’m talked out.”

Nevertheless, he called Marybeth from his pickup in the lot of the county building. “It’s done,” he said.

“Thank God. I’ll tell Pam.”

“Is Hannah still there?”

“She’s hanging out with Lucy like usual and staying for dinner again.”

“You’re a saint.”

He could envision Marybeth rolling her eyes at that. She said, “One more mouth to feed. No big deal.”

“Keep her there,” Joe said. “I need to talk with her.”

“Joe,” Marybeth said, concern in her voice, “what’s this about? I don’t like the sound of this.”

“I can’t tell you yet.”

“Did Butch relay a message? They won’t let Hannah in to see him, you know. They say she isn’t old enough for visiting hours. So I’m guessing he wants to tell her something through you. Am I right?”

Joe closed his eyes. What he was about to do felt like the toughest thing he’d ever done. He wished Marybeth was there cheering him on instead of making it harder. But she didn’t know.

He said, “Just keep her there, please.”

When Joe entered his house, Hannah Roberson looked up from the board game she was playing with Lucy with fear in her eyes. Lucy looked puzzled as she turned her head from her friend to Joe.

“Hannah,” Joe said, “do you want to take a walk?”

She nodded and gathered herself up.

“Dad-what’s going on?” Lucy asked.

“It’s okay,” Hannah said to Lucy. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Dad,” Lucy said, annoyed.

Marybeth intervened from the kitchen. “Lucy, your dad needs to talk to Hannah.”

Joe gave Marybeth a look of appreciation, and Marybeth arched her eyebrows in a gesture asking him what was going on.

Joe held up a single finger to Hannah, indicating she should wait for a moment, then took Marybeth aside in the kitchen. He leaned close to his wife and said, “That girl is going to need our help. She’s going to need your help, Marybeth.”

Then he told her.

In reaction, Marybeth’s eyes got big and filled instantly with moisture as if twin tear duct valves had been opened. She covered her mouth with both of her hands.

She whispered, “My God. .”

Joe said, “I’m hoping you can work with her. You’ve told me caring for horses and riding can be therapeutic. Maybe that will help her.”

“It might help some ,” Marybeth said, “but this might be too big to overcome.”

Joe said, “We thought April’s problems were too big to overcome, but look at her now. You’ve worked miracles with her.”