The Killing Moon: A Novel

He returned from his bedroom with nickel-plated handcuffs and handed them to Maddox by the linking chain. Maddox clasped them around Frankie's wrists and stood, pulling Frankie to his feet, hooking an arm around his bent elbow and then pushing him, headfirst, through the vet's office and back into the adjoining house.

Dr. Bolt righted a table lamp in the main room out front and screwed in a lightbulb, finding a bare wall socket to plug into.

The interior of the room was demolished. Meticulous destruction: the bookshelves stripped bare, tables upended and their legs unscrewed, sofa cushions removed and unzipped and unstuffed, pictures and photographs taken from their frames, the ceiling fan pulled apart to its wires. An upright piano in the corner had been completely disassembled, frame, keyboard, strings, everything.

Maddox set Frankie down on his side to get a look at his wounds. Sweat-drenched ribbons of T-shirt hung over the bloody streaks crisscrossing his chest. Subcutaneous but not life-threatening. Just enough to mark him for life.

For his part, Frankie was feeling no pain. He sneered at the lamp, addressing the shining light. "See? Now they're going to bind my feet and throw me in the river like a puppy in a potato sack, and you just look the other way!"

Maddox tried to find a telephone he could reassemble. He located the base and the speaker for the interior of the handset.

"He cut the wire outside," said Dr. Bolt, slumping into an easy chair with no cushions, the jar in his lap. "I'm going to lose my practice."

Maddox assessed the scene: a room in shambles, a bloody guy handcuffed on the floor muttering at an unshaded lamp bulb, and an older man in boxer shorts sitting with a jar of his own urine. "Want to tell me what's going on here, Doctor?"

"I'm relieved." Dr. Bolt stared straight ahead. "I am actually relieved now. That it's over. Finally over."

Frankie told the light, "You said you had to get them or else they were going to get you. You were going to show them all."

Dr. Bolt said, "I'll hire a lawyer. A good one." He looked at Maddox across the destroyed room. "Why did I ever let it get this far?"

Maddox said, "There's something you need to tell me, Doctor."

"He knew I had iodine and iodine tincture for horses. He knew that already."

Maddox took a step closer, starting to understand. "Do you keep a supply of pseudoephedrine here, Doctor?"

"It's prescribed for canine incontinence. A Schedule Five controlled substance. He had me order the maximum legal amount every month from my supplier. He was blackmailing me, holding things over me. Yes, I faked point-of-sale documentation. I committed multiple frauds. Every gram of it went to him."

"Doctor, I know who it is. All I need is to hear his name. From you."

"This is going to be very bad for me. I need protection. Real protection. Protection from the police. He'll want to do away with me."

Maddox said, "The best way I or anyone else can protect you from this person is to arrest him first. All you need to do is say his name, and this is over just like that. All over. You'll be safe. Just give me his name."

44

HESS

HESS WAS HEADING HOME for the night and some well-earned downtime. He'd phoned ahead to his wife, who had already slipped the two boys some Benadryl and uncorked a bottle of red. He thought it was her when his Nextel lit up blue, his ring tone playing Rhythm Heritage's "Theme From S.W.A.T."

Bryson instead. "You'll want to know this, Leo. Just took a call from Maddox on the local band. Requesting two units, one to the office of a veterinarian, and another for some backup for himself. Said he's making an arrest."

"Arrest?" said Hess, squinting at the highway in front of him, the lane markers zipping past like white bullets. What now? "He hasn't got Sinclair, has he?"

"No, not Sinclair. Something else. Wouldn't say over the radio."

"And he wants us backing him up? Not his own? Who does this guy think he is?"

"I was going to ask him myself, but then the DA called. Not her office. Lady DA herself."

Hess felt a cool rush, like a slow pour of water over him. "Saying?"

"Back up Maddox. Whatever he needs."

Hess switched on his wigwags and grille blues and punched the gas, cutting across two lanes to the next exit. The thought bubble he had of Janine answering the front door in her black lace teddy was replaced by Maddox answering it in his junior league Black Falls police getup instead. Hess said into the phone, "I will be right fucking there."

45

MADDOX

THE DRIVEWAY WAS UNMARKED and unnumbered, coming up on him quick in the darkness of Jag Hill. Maddox's patrol car raised a squall of dust, state police cruisers trailing him as Bucky Pail's house appeared around a bend in the driveway, a short ranch with twin carports on the left and junkyard vehicles extending around back.

Maddox stopped, getting out with his flashlight. Bucky's house was dark. The troopers took their time putting on their Mountie hats.