Deputy Sheriff Teddy Bai had been leaning on the doorframe
looking out at the night about three minutes or so before he
became aware that Cap Stoner was watching him. "Just getting some air," Bai said. "Too damn much cigarette
smoke in there." "You're edgy tonight," Cap said, moving up to stand in the
doorway beside him. "You young single fellas ain't supposed
to have anything worrying you." "I don't," Teddy said. "Except maybe staying single," Cap said. "There's that." "Not with me," Teddy said, and looked at Cap to see if he
could read anything in the old man's expression. But Cap was
looking out into the Ute Casino's parking lot, showing only
the left side of his face, with its brush of white mustache,
short-cropped white hair and the puckered scar left along the
cheekbone when, as Cap told it, a woman he was arresting
for Driving While Intoxicated fished a pistol out of her purse
and shot him. That had been about forty years ago, when
Stoner had been with the New Mexico State Police only a
couple of years and had not yet learned that survival required
skepticism about all his fellow humans. Now Stoner was a
former captain, augmenting his retirement pay as a rent-a-cop
security director at the Southern Ute gambling
establishment--just as Teddy was doing on his off-duty
nights. "What'd ya tell that noisy drunk at the blackjack table?" "Just the usual," Teddy said. "Calm down or he'd have to
leave." Cap didn't comment. He stared out into the night. "Saw some
lightning," he said, pointing. "Just barely. Must be way out
there over Utah. Time for it, too." "Yeah," Teddy said, wanting Cap to go away. "Time for the monsoons to start," Cap said. "The thirteenth,
isn't it? I'm surprised so many people are out here trying their
luck on Friday the thirteenth." Teddy nodded, providing no fodder to extend this
conversation. But Cap didn't need any. "But then it's payday. They got to
get rid of all that money in their pay envelopes." Cap looked
at his watch. "Three-thirty-three," he announced. "Almost
time for the truck to get here to haul off the loot to the bank." And, Teddy thought, a few minutes past the time when a little
blue Ford Escort was supposed to have arrived in the west
lot. "Well," he said, "I'll go prowl around the parking areas.
Scare off the thieves." Teddy found neither thieves nor a little blue Escort in the west
lot. When he looked back at the employees only doorway,
Cap was no longer there. A few minutes late. A thousand
reasons that could happen. No big deal. He enjoyed the clean
air, the predawn high-country chill, the occasional lightning
over the mountains. He walked out of the lighted area to
check his memory of the midsummer starscape. Most of the
constellations were where he remembered they should be. He
could recall their American names, and some of the names his
Navajo grandmother had taught him, but only two of the
names he'd wheedled out of his Kiowa-Comanche father.
Now was that moment his grandmother called the "deep dark
time," but the late-rising moon was causing a faint glow
outlining the shape of Sleeping Ute Mountain. He heard the
sound of laughter from somewhere. A car door slammed.
Then another. Two vehicles pulled out of the east lot, heading
for the exit. Coyotes began a conversation of yips and yodels
among the pinons in the hills behind the casino. The sound of
a truck gearing down came from the highway below. A
pickup pulled into the employees only lot, parked, produced
the clattering sound of something being unloaded. Teddy pushed the illumination button on his Timex.
Three-forty-six. Now the little blue car was late enough to
make him wonder a little. A man wearing what looked like
coveralls emerged into the light carrying an extension ladder.
He placed it against the casino wall, trotted up it to the roof. "Now what's that about?" Teddy said, half-aloud. Probably
an electrician. Probably something wrong with the
air-conditioning. "Hey," he shouted, and started toward the
ladder. Another pickup pulled into the employee lot--this one
a big oversize-cab job. Doors opened. Two men emerged.
National Guard soldiers apparently, dressed in their fatigues.
Buy hardcover:
Carrying what? They were walking fast toward the
EMPLOYEES ONLY door. But that door had no outside
knob. It was the accounting room, opened only from the
inside and only by guys as important as Cap Stoner. Stoner was coming out of the side entrance now. He pointed
at the roof, shouted, "Who's that up there? What the hell--" "Hey," Teddy yelled, trotting toward the two men,
unsnapping the flap on his holster. "What's--" Both men stopped. Teddy saw muzzle flashes, saw Cap
Stoner fall backward, sprawled on the pavement. The men
spun toward him, swinging their weapons. He was fumbling
with his pistol when the first bullets struck him.
Stoner was coming out of the side entrance now. He pointed
at the roof, shouted, "Who's that up there? What the hell--"
