Long Range (Joe Pickett Book 20)(18)

*

“OKAY, THEN,” HEWITT SAID, stepping out from behind the chair he’d used like a combination of podium and shield. “We have our assignments. As for me, I plan to spend my hours overseeing this investigation whenever I’m not at Sue’s side at the hospital. You have your jobs,” he said to the room. “Do I make myself clear?”

Joe looked around and wished he had more confidence in what would happen next.

He thought the lists, once compiled, would be a good place to start. But what Hewitt hadn’t mentioned was the possibility that the shooter wouldn’t be on any of them. Over his career, the judge had angered defense lawyers, witnesses, law enforcement officers, and some of his own staff. Hewitt didn’t seem to consider that someone other than a criminal he’d sentenced could have pulled the trigger. He also hadn’t seemed to entertain the possibility that it really was a stray shot that hadn’t been intended to hit him or his wife.

Before exiting through his private door, Hewitt turned back to the room and said over his shoulder, “Gentlemen, please don’t make this a clusterfuck. Can you do that?”

Everyone mumbled their assurances.

When Hewitt’s door closed, Patterson was the first to speak.

“Lord help us,” he said to no one and to everyone.

*

“JOE, DO YOU have a minute?” Duane Patterson asked once all of the others were gone and only he and Joe remained.

“Yup.”

Joe noticed the perspiration beading on the prosecutor’s forehead and on his neck above his collar. He leaned into Joe and said, “Have you ever seen the judge like this before?”

Joe shrugged. “I’ve seen him angry, but not like this.”

“He’s manic,” Patterson said, his eyes wide.

“I’d probably be, too, if someone took a shot at me and hit Marybeth,” Joe said. The image of what he’d just described sent a shiver down his spine.

“He’s asking the impossible,” Patterson said. “He’s putting it all on us to find the shooter.”

“Maybe we’ll do just that,” Joe said.

“But that’s not what I do,” Patterson said. “I’m a prosecutor. I’m not a detective.” He seemed panicked.

“Just do your best,” Joe encouraged him.

“My best won’t be good enough for him,” Patterson said. “He’ll ride me until I break down. I know him. I know how relentless he can be.”

Joe nodded.

Patterson continued. “He’s powerful. He’s got his fingers into everything, and he can pull strings you don’t even know he has. How do you think he was able to assemble all of us in his office in a moment’s notice just now? He went straight to the governor and the governor danced.

“I’ve got this job because Judge Hewitt recommended me and made his case to the county commissioners,” Patterson said. “He could just as easily take them aside and suggest they hire a new county prosecutor if he thinks I didn’t do enough to find the shooter. I could see that happening.”

Joe agreed, but didn’t say so. He changed the subject. “How well do you get along with our new sheriff?”

Patterson frowned. “Our relationship is nonexistent,” he said. “I can’t figure him out. He keeps his cards so close to the vest they’re like a skin graft. No one knows what he’s thinking, including his deputies. He makes it a point not to talk with me, even about important matters. Instead, he sends memos.”

“I’ve heard about that,” Joe said.

“I want to think he’s some kind of oddball investigative genius,” Patterson said. “Like he’s our own Columbo or something. But so far, I just can’t read him.”

Joe acknowledged him but said nothing.

“This will be his test,” Patterson said. “After this, maybe we’ll know if he’s good at his job. But in the meanwhile, we have to contend with the judge. It’s a nightmare. I can’t ever recall someone taking a shot at a sitting judge in Wyoming, can you?”

“No.”

“And Sue,” Patterson said. “Poor Sue. She didn’t deserve this. She’s the only person who makes Judge Hewitt halfway tolerable because she’s the only one who can keep him in check. If she goes . . .”

“I know,” Joe said.

“We’re all screwed,” Patterson said.

“Then let’s find the shooter,” Joe said while fitting on his hat to go.

*

JOE PAUSED OUTSIDE Judge Hewitt’s office door before going to the lobby. He could hear the man sobbing inside.

For a second, Joe considered opening the door and trying to console the man. He thought better of it, though. Maybe Judge Hewitt needed privacy to break down and cry.

Joe’s heart went out to him.

Then he remembered he didn’t have his truck outside. Again he called Marybeth, and asked her if he could get a ride to the highway department building on the outskirts of town.

While he waited for his wife, Joe fished his notebook out of his pocket and opened it to a fresh page.

Under the header Suspects, he wrote down:

Dallas Cates (and associates)

The Mad Archer

Dennis Sun