The flashing red and blue of police beacons was not a sight that I ordinarily would have welcomed, but tonight I waited impatiently for their first distant flicker coming up my road. But time kept on passing-more than I expected, close to an hour. Gary had told me to stay put and he'd be along, but I was starting to fear that I'd misunderstood him.
When I finally glimpsed a vehicle approaching, it showed only headlights and turned out to be a single sheriff's cruiser.
I walked down to the gate to meet it and got there just as Gary climbed out. He looked weary, a little stooped, without his usual crispness.
"You can quit feeling sorry for yourself about your shooting," he said. "He piled up your truck at the bottom of Stumpleg Gulch. Took at least two rounds, smashed him up pretty good inside. Must have held on as long as he could and finally lost it."
I stared at Gary in disbelief. Then my gaze faltered and I turned away. Instead of exultation or even relief, it was like a cold steely hand reached inside me and twisted my guts.
"He's dead?" I said.
"Not yet-we sent him to the ER at St. Pete's. But from what I've heard so far, his odds don't look good."
The radio inside his car was crackling with brief, static-laced messages. Gary leaned back inside and switched it off.
"I know it'll be tough to shake off, Hugh, but you did the right thing," he said. "I wish I could say the same about myself. Before he came here, he killed Evvie."
My stare swung back to him.
"After we finished talking to her this afternoon, she wanted to go home and I let her," Gary said. "I figured Jessup was far away by then, and I never dreamed he'd do something like that, anyway. And I admit, I thought he might get in touch with her-I made her swear to call us if he did. Then when you told us he was still around, we called her and she didn't answer. Deputies went out there and found her shot point-blank."
Gary shook his head with a bleakness that gave me another of those inner clenches.
"It was my decision to let her go," he said again.
We stood there in heavy silence for a moment longer. The night wind was picking up, and not getting any warmer.
"Are you going back to town?" I said.
"Yeah, I better check in on Jessup. We'll need you to walk us through what happened up here, but it can wait till morning."
"Can I catch a ride with you? He shot my cat, too. I need to take him to a vet."
"Sure thing. Go get him, I'll radio ahead and tell them we're coming."
I'd built a fire in my woodstove and settled the tom on a blanket in front of it-the only help I could give him. He was still breathing, but he'd shut down further, eyes closed and no longer purring.