Between Black and White (McMurtrie and Drake Legal Thrillers #2)(91)

Now, as if to make the circle complete, he was having the sheet pulled back over him.

“God bless, old friend,” Tom said, touching the dead man’s arm.

Tom walked out of the trauma room in a daze and then down the narrow corridor of the emergency room hallway. He took a seat next to Rick, who was gazing forward with a blank look on his face.

“He’s gone,” Tom said, his voice low.

Rick gave a quick nod. Then he turned his head to look at Tom. The boy’s face was almost ashen. “My ears,” he began, his voice shaking, “they’re still ringing.”

“That’s just temporary,” Tom said. “It’ll go away. Listen . . . why don’t you let them check you out here?”

Rick shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I just . . .” He sighed, and Tom saw tears forming in the corners of the boy’s eyes. “I saw the whole thing. Ray Ray . . . saved Bo’s life. He stepped right in front of him.”

Tom sighed and put his arm around his partner. “I know, son.” Tom started to say more but stopped when he saw two uniformed officers burst through the entrance to the ER. Tom rose to his feet when he recognized Officer Springfield. Before Tom could even say hello, Hank was talking, his voice clipped and edgy.

“Is Bo here?”

Tom shook his head. “No, I—”

“Jazz says that she hasn’t seen him since just after the shooting. He walked her and T. J. to his office and then said he was coming over here to check on Ray Ray.”

“He was here for a few minutes but left after the doctor said there was no chance to save Ray Ray.”

“So Ray Ray’s . . .”

“Dead,” Tom said. “Pronounced five minutes ago.”

Hank rubbed his neck and exhaled. “Professor, did Bo say where he was going?”

“No. I assumed back to the office. Deputy, what’s—?”

“We found George Curtis dead on his couch ten minutes ago. Self-inflicted gunshot wound. He left a note confessing to Andy’s murder.”

“Jesus,” Tom said, feeling his legs begin to wobble again.

“Yeah, I know. It’s . . . a mess,” Hank said, looking down at the floor and shaking his head. “Listen, we haven’t been able to locate Larry Tucker yet, and I just want to make sure Bo’s in a safe place. JimBone Wheeler has already taken a shot at him, and if Tucker or someone else is involved they might try to finish it.”

Tom took out his cell phone and clicked on Bo’s number. Without even ringing, Tom heard Bo’s message come across the line: “You’ve reached Bocephus Haynes. I’m sorry I missed your call. Please leave your name and number, and I will call you back.” Tom spoke into the speaker. “Bo, this is Tom. Please call me as soon as you get this message. Thanks, bye.” Tom ended the call and looked at Hank.

“Deputy, I know you’ve probably already thought of this—” Tom started, but Hank’s voice cut him off.

“He’s not at the clearing. At least not yet. I checked there myself on the way here. He’s driving Jazz’s Sequoia, and it isn’t parked anywhere along 64 near the dirt road turn-in.”

“OK, I’ll keep trying him on his phone,” Tom said, feeling his heart rate quicken. “How about Wheeler? Is he talking?”

“Nothing so far. He’s yet to utter a word.”

Tom rubbed his chin. “Did Curtis implicate anyone else in his note?”

“No one. In fact, he said the whole thing was a ‘solo operation.’ That he planned Andy’s murder and he pulled the trigger.”

“Bullshit,” Tom said. “He’s covering for someone.”

“Agreed,” Hank said. “I’ve known George Curtis all my life, and he was an old-school Southerner. Definitely not a rat.” Hank paused and then sucked in a quick breath. “He knew he was about to spend the rest of his life in prison, so he took one for the team.”

Tom was nodding along with him. “Makes sense. Helen would have seen to it that he fried for both crimes.” At his mention of her name, Tom thought back to his conversation with the prosecutor at the courthouse right before the gunfire erupted on the square. “Is General Lewis down at the station, Deputy?”

Hank let out a low whistling sound. “She was. But when I gave her the news about Curtis . . .” He shook his head.

Tom could only imagine. If Helen could have quickly charged George Curtis for the murders of Roosevelt Haynes and Andy Walton, she might have been able to spin her loss of Bo’s murder trial into a long-term victory. Staying the course and brushing herself off from defeat, General Lewis had brought the lynch mob who killed Roosevelt Haynes to justice and solved the Andy Walton murder to boot. Now . . .

“I’m sure she’s pretty upset,” Tom said, knowing his words were a vast understatement.

“She blew a gasket, Professor. I’ve never seen the General so angry.” Hank started to say more, but the walkie-talkie clipped to his belt sounded off and he grabbed it. “Yeah,” he blared into the handheld device. He listened for a few minutes before saying “Ten-four” into the speaker. Then he turned back to the Professor. “We need y’all to come down to the station to fill out statements about the shooting.” Hank paused and looked over Tom’s shoulder to Rick, who had remained seated in the plastic lobby chair. “He up for it?”