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Crow closed his eyes and a great dark wave of tension seemed to roll out of him.
“So, yes—lucky in that regard,” Weinstock said, “but there’s still everything that went on at the farm last night. You’ll have to really be there for her, buddy. More than ever, what with Mark and Connie and all…”
“I know. About Connie…did she suffer much?”
“I doubt she was even aware of anything from the time she was attacked. ”
“God. I just can’t believe this. It’s like Ruger and Boyd had some kind of vendetta going. Why them, though?”
Weinstock shook his head. “Who the hell knows what goes on in minds like that?”
“Is there anything new on Terry?”
“Not much. They moved him out of surgery and into ICU but—”
“Are you talking about Mayor Wolfe?” a voice asked.
Weinstock stopped and wheeled around to where Newton was struggling to sit up in the chair by the window. The little reporter blinked like a turtle and fisted sleep out of his eyes.
“You!” Weinstock said, pointing a finger at him. “Whoever you are, get out. ”
“Whoa,” Crow said, stepping between them. “Ease up, Saul—Newton’s a reporter. You know him, the guy that broke the Ruger story. ”
Weinstock inhaled through his nose. “In that case get the hell out. And I mean now. ”
“Hold on, Newt’s with me,” Crow said, waving Newton back to his seat.
Weinstock’s face was alight with anger. “Crow…there are some things I want to tell you that I’m sure you’re not going to want him to hear. Trust me on this. ”
“Don’t be too sure. A lot of stuff happened yesterday and Newt was with me. You can speak openly. ”
“No way…not in front of a reporter. ”
“Saul, I don’t think there’s anything you can tell me that he won’t be ready to hear. ”
“No. ” This time it was Newton who said it.
Crow and Weinstock both looked at him. “Hey, Newt, you can’t bail out on me now. ”
“Crow…honestly, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I haven’t even gotten my head wrapped around what we saw yesterday. I need to stop thinking about this. It’s all too…” He stopped and just stood there, small and defeated, hands jammed defensively into his pockets.
Weinstock arched an eyebrow at Crow, who sighed. “S’okay, dude. I guess I didn’t give you a lot of time to prepare for this, and what we went through yesterday…well, I’m just glad I had a friend with me. ”
Newton looked at him in surprise, his eyes searching Crow’s face for the lie, but not finding it. “Thanks,” he mumbled, his eyes wet.
“Why don’t you go home, get some sleep, and meet me back here later today? Try to put this stuff out of your mind for a while. ”
Newton smiled at the absurdity of the concept. “What do you think the chances are that I’ll ever be able to do that?” He sketched a wave, picked up his soiled jacket, and shambled out of the room.
“Poor bastard,” Crow said. “He’s a pretty good guy, Saul. A little fussy at first, but he kind of stepped up. It’s just that yesterday was…well, when I tell you the whole thing you’ll understand. ”
Crow sat down on the edge of the bed and Weinstock dragged the chair over. For a full minute neither said a word, their eyes meeting for a second at a time and falling away. Crow leaned on his forearms and stared at the floor between his hiking boots; Weinstock leaned back and studied the blankness of the speckled acoustic ceiling tiles.
After a while Crow took a breath. “You want to start?”
Weinstock barked an ugly little laugh. “Not really. ”
“Me neither. ”
