Jeffery Deaver - Praying for Sleep

The hound turned abruptly several times, paused then turned again.

“Has he got the track?” Kohler asked, whispering.

“Nope,” Heck replied in a conversational voice. “We’ll know when he does.”

They walked behind Emil as he snaked along the base of the tall yellow-white cliffs around pools of brackish water.

They emerged from the rocky valley and climbed slowly. They found themselves once again back at the disabled MG. Heck was grimacing. “Hell, back to square one.”

“Why’re you out here by yourself?” Kohler asked, breathing heavily.

“Just am.”

“There’s a reward for him.”

Heck looped the track line for a moment. Finally he said, “How’d you know that?”

“I didn’t. But it explains why you’re out here by yourself.”

“And how ’bout you, Doc? If you spotted him, how come you didn’t call out the Marines?”

“He panics easily. I can get him back without anybody getting hurt. He knows me. He trusts me.”

Emil suddenly stiffened and turned to the forest, tensing. In an instant Heck drew and cocked his pistol. The underbrush shook.

“No!” Kohler shouted, glancing at the gun. He started forward into the bush.

But Heck gripped him by the arm and whispered, “I’d be quiet there, sir. Let’s don’t give our position away.”

There was silence for a moment. Then the muscular doe bounded in a gray-brown arc over a low hedge and vanished.

Heck put the gun away. “You oughta be a little more careful. You’re kinda trusting, you know what I mean?” He looked south along the road, where the gray asphalt disappeared into the hills. Emil’d shown no interest in that direction but Heck thought they ought to try it nonetheless. He started to hold the plastic bag containing Hrubek’s shorts down to the dog once more. But Kohler stopped his arm.

“How much?” the doctor asked.

“How’s that, sir?” Heck stood.

“How much is the reward?”

Emil was aware that a scent article was dangling over his head and he shivered. Heck closed the bag up again to keep the dog from growing too skittish. He said to the doctor, “That’s sort of between me and the people paying it, sir.”

“Is that Adler?”

Heck nodded slowly.

“Well,” Kohler continued, “he’s a colleague. We work together.”

“If he’s a buddy then how come you don’t know ’bout it? The reward?”

Kohler asked, “How much, Mr. Heck?”

“Ten thousand.”

“I’ll give you twelve.”

For a moment Heck watched Emil rock back and forth, eager to run. He said to Kohler, “You’re joshing.”

“Oh, no. I’m quite serious.”

Heck snorted a laugh but his face grew hot as he realized that he was looking at a man who could actually write a check for twelve thousand dollars. And probably have some left over afterward. “Why?”

“Thirteen.”

“I’m not bargaining with you. What do you want me to do for that kind of money?”

“Go home. Forget about Michael Hrubek.”

Heck looked slowly around him. He noticed in the west, far away, a diffuse flash of lightning. It seemed to stretch for a hundred miles. He gazed at the huge expanse of countryside, the muddy horizon against the black sky. He found the view disturbing, for the very reason that this unexpected money was so appealing. How could he possibly find one man in that vast emptiness? Heck laughed to himself. Why did God always drop temptations in front of you when you wanted them the most?

“What’s in this for you?” Heck asked again, to stall.

“I just don’t want him hurt.”

“I’m not going to hurt him. Not necessarily.”

“You were about to use that gun.”

“Well, if I had to I would. But I’m not going to shoot anybody in the back. That’s not my way. Wasn’t when I was a trooper. Isn’t now.”

“Michael isn’t dangerous. He’s not like a bank robber.”

“Doesn’t matter if he’s dangerous like a crazed moose protecting her calves or dangerous like a Mafia hit man. I’m looking out for me and my dog and if that means shooting the man’s coming at me with a rock or tire iron so be it.”

Kohler gave a little smile that made Heck feel he’d somehow lost a point.

“Look, he’s set out traps for dogs. I don’t give much quarter to a man like that.”

“He did what ?” The smile vanished from Kohler’s face.

“Traps. Spring animal traps.”

“No. Michael wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, you may say that but-”

“Have you seen any?”

“I know he took some. Haven’t found any yet.”

The doctor didn’t speak for a moment. Finally he said, “I think you’re being used, Mr. Heck.”

“What do you mean by that?” He was ready to take offense but the psychiatrist’s voice was suddenly soothing, the voice of someone on his side, trying to help.

“Adler knows that a dog’ll make a schizophrenic snap. Chasing someone like Michael is the worst thing in the world for him. A patient like that, cornered? He’ll panic. He’ll panic bad. You’ll have to shoot him. Adler wants this whole thing wrapped up as smooth as possible. Fourteen thousand.”

Lord. Heck squeezed his eyes shut and opened them just in time to see another flash of lightning. At his feet Emil rocked on his paws and had just about had it with this human-conversation stuff.

Take the money and go back home. Call up the bank, feed them a big check. Fourteen’d buy him another nine, ten months. Maybe in that time HQ’d find money to reinstate all the troopers let go in the last three years. Maybe one of the thirty-six security companies that had Heck’s résumé would find an opening.

Maybe Jill’d come home with her knuckleball and tip money and her lacy nightgowns.

Fourteen thousand dollars.

Heck sighed. “Well, sir, I understand you’re concerned about your patient and all, and I respect that. But there’re other people to think about too. I wasn’t a trooper for nothing. Emil and me have a chance to capture this fellow. And I’d say it’s probably a better shot than you have-even with your talk about double bluffs and all. No offense.”

“But he isn’t dangerous. That’s what nobody understands. You chasing him, that’s what makes him dangerous.”

Heck laughed. “Well, you psychiatrists have your own way of talking, I don’t doubt. But those two fellows he almost killed tonight might disagree with you some.”

“Killed?” Kohler’s eyes flickered, and the doctor seemed as badly shaken as when Heck had pressed the black barrel of the gun against his skin. “What’re you talking about?”

“Those orderlies.”

“What orderlies?”

“He had the run-in with those two fellows near Stinson. I thought you knew about it. Just after he escaped.”

“You know their names?”

“No, sure don’t. They were from the hospital. Marsden. That’s all I know.”

Stepping away from Heck, Kohler wandered to the car. He picked up the small skull. He rubbed it compulsively in his hands.

“So,” Heck continued, “I think I gotta turn down your offer.”

Kohler stared at the night sky for a moment then turned to Heck. “Just do me a favor. If you find him, don’t threaten him. Don’t chase him. And whatever you do, for God’s sake, don’t sic that dog on him.”

“I’m not looking at this,” Heck said coolly, “like a fox hunt.”

Kohler handed him a card. “That’s my service. You get close to him, call that number. They’ll page me. I’d really appreciate it.”

“If I can, I will,” Heck said. “That’s the best I can say.”

Kohler nodded and looked around, orienting himself. “That’s 236 down there?”