Standoff

Absently she picked at a loose thread on the hem of the T-shirt. "Naturally, I urged him to take the safer choice- Rio. Where, incidentally, I could go with him. I didn't relish the thought of my groom leaving me Stateside and going into a war zone, particularly one where boundaries were imprecise and everyone was still choosing up sides.

"He opted for the more thrilling of the two. He wanted to be where the action was, where he would be guaranteed more airtime. We argued about it. Virulently. Finally I said, 'All right, John, fine. Go. Get yourself killed.' "

Raising her head, she met Doc's eyes directly. "And that's what he did."

His expression remained impassive.

Tiel plunged on. "He had gone into an area where journalists weren't supposed to go-which didn't surprise me," she added on a soft laugh. "He was an adventurer by nature. Anyway, he caught a sniper bullet. They shipped his body home. I buried him three months shy of our first wedding a

After a time, Doc said, "That's tough. I'm sorry."

"Yes, well…"

They were silent for a long while. It was Tiel who finally spoke. "What's it been like for you?"

"In regards to what?"

"Relationships."

"Specifically…?"

"Come on, Doc. Don't play dumb," she chided softly. "I was candid with you."

"Which was your choice."

"Fair's fair. Share with me."

"There's nothing to share."

"About you and women?" she asked incredulously. "I don't believe that."

"What do you want? Names and dates? Starting when, Ms. McCoy? Does high school count, or should I begin with college?"

"How about since your wife died?"

"How about you mind your own fucking business?"

"Actually we're talking about your fucking business."

"No, we're not. You are."

"In light of your wife's affair, I think you'd find it difficult to trust another woman."

His mouth compressed into a tight, angry line, indicating that she'd struck a tender nerve. "You don't know anything about-"

But Tiel never learned from him what she didn't know anything about because he was interrupted by Do

chapter 12

KIP'S VIDEOTAPE WAS PLAYING SIMULTANEOUSLY on two monitors in the van, with everyone inside clustered around to view them. One of the FBI agents was ma

"Where's my daughter? I don't see Sabra."

Galloway detected liquor on Dendy's breath. Periodically he had been stepping outside "to get some fresh air."

It seemed he was taking in more than oxygen.

"Patience, Mr. Dendy. We're anxious to see all of it. I need to know where people are positioned. Once I have an overview, we'll restart the tape and pause it on the segments that warrant closer study."

"Maybe Sabra tried to send me a private message. Like a signal."

"Maybe," was the senior agent's noncommittal reply.

His nose was no farther than ten inches from the color monitor as he listened to Tiel McCoy's opening remarks.

She was poised, he'd give her that. Unruffled. She looked a little worse for wear in her Texas flag T-shirt, but she was as composed and articulate as she would have been in a television studio, safely behind a sleek news desk.

"That son of a bitch," Dendy snarled when Ro

"If you can't keep your mouth shut, Dendy, I'll be happy to shut it for you." Cole Davison issued the threat in a soft voice, but there was muscle behind it.

"Gentlemen," Galloway said.

No one else spoke while Ro

No new mother cradling her infant should be threatening to take her own life.

For several seconds after the tape ended, no one spoke.

Finally Gully had the courage to say out loud what everyone else was thinking. "Guess that settles the question as to who's responsible for all this."

Galloway held up his hand, discouraging any further unsolicited editorial comments on Russell Dendy's culpability.

He turned to Cole Davison. "What about Ro

How does he seem to you?"

"Exhausted. Scared."

"High?"

"No, sir," Davison replied briskly. "I told you, he's a good boy. He doesn't do drugs. Maybe a beer now and then. That's the extent of it."

"My daughter certainly isn't a druggie," Dendy remarked.

Galloway remained centered on Davison. "Did you see anything unusual that should alert us to an unstable state of mind?"

"My eighteen-year-old son is talking about killing himself, Mr. Galloway. I think that sums up his state of mind."

While Galloway sympathized with the man-he had teenagers of his own-he pressured him for more information.

"You know him, Mr. Davison. Do you think Ro

The man wrestled with his answer. Then he lowered his head dejectedly. "No, I don't think so. Truly, I don't.

But-"

"But?" Galloway pounced on the qualifier. "But what?

Has Ro

"Never."

"A violent streak? Uncontrollable temper?"

"No," he replied shortly. However, he appeared uncomfortable with his preemptive answer. Nervously his eyes shifted from Galloway to the others, then back to the agent. "Well, only one time. It was an isolated incident.

And he was just a kid."

Inwardly Galloway groaned. He was very sure he didn't want to hear about the one time Ro

After a long, uneasy silence, Davison began. "Ro

Stuff like that.

"I knew the owner. He was a mean ol' bastard, drunk most of the time, so I knew Ro

But it was none of our business. I told Ro

Or maybe he liked the animal because it was as miserable as he was that summer. I don't know. I'm no child psychologist."

Dendy interrupted. "Is this sad story going anywhere?"

Galloway shot him a look and came close to telling him to shut up before turning back to the other man. "What happened, Cole?"

"One day Ro

Said he'd rather see her dead than living like that. I scolded him and went to get my keys, meaning to drive the dog home in my pickup.

"But when I came back through the kitchen, Ro

"As we converged on the barn, I called out to Ro

He stopped speaking and stared at the brim of his hat as he slowly threaded it through his fingers. "When we came around to the back to the barn, he was crying his heart out. He was patting the dog where it was lying right there beside him. Dead. He'd hit it in the head with a rock and killed it."