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Jason thought it over unhappily. “If my attacker wasn’t Kyser, who the hell was it? I can’t believe Shepherd or Barnaby would come after me in such a crude, mob hit kind of way.”
Sam raised his shoulders.
“Where does that leave us?” Jason persisted.
“We’re pursuing every avenue.”
“Pursuing every avenue? You’re kidding, right?”
Sam did not look like he was kidding. He said, “It’s not a fast process.”
“Okay, I do understand that. But at the same time, I can’t remain on sick leave indefinitely.”
Sam was unimpressed. “It hasn’t been a week. You’re still on painkillers.”
True. No arguing there.
Jason opened his mouth, but his cell phone rang. He felt around for it, and Sam’s phone also began to ring. They looked at each other.
Jason found his phone and clicked Accept. “West.”
“Agent West?” The wobbly voice on the other end was vaguely familiar. “It’s Abigail Dreyfus.”
“Hi,” Jason said in surprise. “I’m afraid I’ve only started reading through the reports and interviews—”
“No, it’s not that. I’m not expecting you to have any answers for me yet.”
A few feet away Sam said, “It’s no problem, Chuck. I owe you one.”
Really? Hard to imagine circumstances where Sam owed anybody anything.
Dreyfus said, “Cheyenne PD just informed me that Michael Khan’s body was found by campers in Medicine Bow-Routt National Forest a short time ago.”
“On my way,” Sam said and clicked off. His gaze met Jason’s.
Jason knew Sam well enough to interpret the message there. His heart sank. He answered Dreyfus automatically, “Suicide?”
“Undetermined.” Dreyfus made an effort to steady her voice. “He was hanging upside down from a tree.”
Chapter Nine
Death did not become him.
It did not become anybody, but in particular it did not become Michael Khan. Partly it was due to hanging upside down. The pull of gravity, the pressure of blood rushing to the head…very visual, very disturbing. Jason would try to put the image of Khan’s bloodshot, bulging eyes and swollen tongue protruding from that greenish-red face out of his mind, but he knew from experience Michael Khan would be haunting his nightmares for a while.
What the hell must Sam’s dreams be like?
Oh, right. Sam barely slept. No wonder.
Jason went back to studying the dead man.
The Hanged Man.
Jason had recognized the staging of the body even before the medical examiner for the Laramie County Coroner’s Office discovered the tarot card tucked in the dead man’s trouser pocket.
The card was one of the major arcana in the tarot deck. It depicted a man hanging upside down by his right foot from a tree. His left leg was jauntily bent behind him. The figure on the tarot card was smiling serenely, having sacrificed himself of his own free will. Michael Khan…not so much.
Wispy dark hair dangling, hands tied behind his back, one foot tied—wired—to the tree trunk, the other leg bound behind in a terrible parody of insouciance. Khan was not smiling. Jason did not want to remember Khan’s expression.
