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“Fuck.” Damn, that was gruesome. “Does anyone have any clue what the shit is going on?”
Shep shook his head. His hair badly needed a washing. “Nothing yet. The local law is sitting tight on this.”
“Like a hen on a nest.” I sighed, the tiny well of energy I’d had now depleted. Christ it was pathetic that taking a sip of dusty water could do a man in. “You should go home. Wash your ass. Sleep.” He shook his head, his thumb still moving in soft circles on my knuckle. “Seriously, go home, Shep. I’m fine. Just a little sore.”
“You do realize that you have two holes in you?”
“Oh two? Awesome. No wonder I hurt like double hell,” I mumbled and felt my eyes growing heavy. “Go home. I want to sleep a little bit.”
“Promise me you won’t die while I’m gone?”
“Cowboy’s oath.” I tried to cross my heart, but my hand was too heavy to lift. Darkness welled up and swallowed me once more. That time I slept for several hours, rousing when the surgeon finally showed up to tell me I was lucky, that I would be fine, and that the Copper Falls sheriff and a tribal officer from the Shoshone-Arapaho reservation were patiently waiting to speak with me. After he left, I had some coffee and Jell-O, which sat well, so I was told maybe I could do solid food next time around. The pain was manageable, just, but I dreaded the thought of having that catheter removed and having to get up to piss.
My nurse came in, checked my vitals, and helped me wash up. Should have been erotic but it wasn’t. That’s the last time I believe porno movies. My nurse wasn’t horny at all. I wasn’t either, to be honest. Then Shepherd arrived, looking much cleaner. It appeared he’d gotten some sleep as well. There were still bags under his pretty sky eyes, but not as big. His clothes weren’t caked with blood and his hair was shiny and clean. God it was nice to see him.
“Hey,” he said, giving me a tender kiss that made the nurse coo like a teenager.
“She was just handling my penis,” I told Shepherd, who blushed. The nurse, Amy, relayed that my penis behaved itself, which was more than she could say for the penis owner.
“You must be feeling better if you’re flirting with the nurses,” Shep said as he fell into the ugly blue chair next to the window.
“I’m good. It only hurts when I breathe.” He nodded dully.
“We’re burying Morgan tomorrow morning. Closed casket.” He sighed as he studied his hands.
“Damn, I wish I could be there, but the surgeon said I have a few more days of luxury accommodations and sponge baths.”
He glanced up and gave me a measly smile. “It’s fine. We’re not making a big spectacle of it. Our lives are in turmoil. Clay is probably going to be charged with murder.”
I sat up a little straighter, winced and groaned, and waved off the worried look from my lover. “Did Donnie die?”
“Not yet, but he’s comatose, and it doesn’t look good.”
“Then it should be self-defense. I mean, Donnie did shoot and kill Morgan.”
“Yeah, I suppose that’s true. My head is spinning. I found out that Roxie, your cook, is his aunt.” My eyes bugged out just as someone rapped on the door. The Copper Falls sheriff stuck his balding head in through the ajar door.
“Your doctor gave me clearance to speak with you as long as we didn’t wear you out,” Mark said, so I motioned him in. Shepherd made no move to leave, which was fine with me. I liked him beside me. “Shepherd,” Mark said as he walked over to stand in front of the window. He blocked out most of the light as he planted his feet and heaved out a sigh. “I’d appreciate anything you can add about the incident.” Mark pulled out his phone. “I am going to record this interview and will share it with Loren Menuez, Tribal Law Officer of the Jante River Reservation as there are several reservation residents involved in this scheme.”
“There was a scheme?” I asked, wiggling up a bit higher despite the pain in my gut and back.
“We’ll be releasing the details when it’s prudent,” Mark stated, looking at me questioningly. “Do you agree to your statement being recorded?”
“You should have your lawyer present,” Shep said, which got a tightlipped look from Mark.
“For what? I got shot. I didn’t shoot anyone. And besides that, I don’t have a lawyer.” Shepherd was aghast. “I’m fine with being recorded. Pass the tape along to Loren, the Feds, the Secret Service, whoever.”
“I think we can leave the Secret Service out of this.” Mark grabbed the chair in the far corner, pulled it close, sat, and placed his phone on the rolling tray that was parked beside my bed. “Can you tell us about the events leading up to you and Mr. Shepherd McCrary arriving at the Hollow Wind Ranch on the evening in question?”
I dove into the retelling as best as I could recall it. I really didn’t have much to add other than what I’d seen at the McCrary home when we had arrived. Then, of course, I got shot, so my view of the events changed dramatically as I was prone on the ground and bleeding all over myself and a rather nice throw pillow. Mark asked question after question, most centered on Roxie and Donnie, but several about the Great Bear twins as well. When I prodded him about what the grand plot had been, he rolled his lips over his teeth. The closemouthed bastard.
By the end of the hour-long statement, I was exhausted and hungry. Mark thanked me for my cooperation, then left after shoving his tan hat on his shiny head. I threw Shepherd a look.
“Someone on one of our ranches has to know what the hell took place,” I said with a huff. He bobbed his head, opened his mouth, and then some food arrived. Real food. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, carrots, pudding cup, and coffee. We conspired to get some info as I ate. Shepherd rose as I was sipping my coffee after my meal.
“I have to go meet Clay at the funeral home,” he informed me while shrugging back into his winter coat. “I’ll poke around and see what I can uncover.”
“Okay. Hey, kiss me goodbye?”
