go!”
“There’s nothing we can do about it.”
Jerry put his hand on the butt of his gun and muttered, “There’s something
I
can do about it.”
Navarre’s eyes widened a little in fear. He could see his own death on Jerry’s face, just as plainly as Alex could.
“Jerry,” she said sharply. “Go out in the hall. Now.”
“But, Chief—
Do what I told you,” Alex snapped. “In fact, go down to the entrance and help Lester. He’s liable to need a hand keeping order down there.” She paused. “That’s an order, Jerry.”
He sighed and finally nodded. “All right. But sooner or later, somebody’s got to stand up and do what’s right, Chief.”
“Our only concern is what’s legal.”
Jerry gave a contemptuous grunt on his way out of the room. Alex felt a flash of anger and thought about calling him back to give him a few choice words about respecting the chief of police, but she let it go.
Right now, she didn’t have much respect for the legal system herself, and she was part of it, after all.
Navarre relaxed after Jerry was gone. He grinned at her again and said, “He’s a hothead, that one, no?”
“He’s just fed up, like the rest of us are when we see—” Alex stopped herself. It wouldn’t do any good to argue with Navarre.
He wasn’t going to let it go, though. “When you see what?” he demanded. “A dirty Mexican? A spic? You’re a racist, lady, like the rest of this Texan trash.”
She knew she ought to ignore him, but she couldn’t. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Navarre,” she told him. “I’ve lived and worked with Hispanics all my life. The mayor, my boss, is named Ruiz, and my best officer is named Delgado. I’d trust him with my life. I don’t care what color your skin is. You’d still be a vicious animal if you were black or white or yellow.”
“You gonna get what’s comin’ to you one of these days,” Navarre blustered. “All you damn rednecks. Texas will be back where it belongs, as part of Mexico!”
“You tried that a few years ago, remember?” Alex said, referring to the infamous Second Siege of the Alamo. “It didn’t work.”
Navarre settled back against the pillows propped up behind him and glared at her, but he didn’t say anything else.
A short time later, a wave of noise in the hall outside warned Alex of what was coming. As she turned to face the door, it opened and the man she had seen on TV earlier that morning swept into the room. He stopped, took his sunglasses off, and smiled at her.
“Chief Bonner?”
“That’s right.” Alex didn’t return the smile.
“I’m Clayton Cochrum. I represent Mr. Navarre, and I have an order here for his release.”
“He’s been wounded,” Alex said. “He ought to stay here in the hospital.”
Cochrum’s smile disappeared, to be replaced by a look of grave concern. “I’m well aware that my client has been wounded, Chief. That wanton shooting spree by one of your citizens is the reason I’ve filed suit on Mr. Navarre’s behalf, to try to redress the wrong that’s been done him.”
Alex opened her mouth to say something, but Cochrum held up a hand.
“As for his medical condition,” the lawyer went on, “I have a fully-equipped, state-of-the-art private ambulance waiting outside, along with a crack team of doctors and nurses to provide care for him until we can get him to an adequate private facility. This … little country clinic … is hardly the sort of place where he needs to be.”
“The staff of this little country clinic saved his life,” Alex pointed out.
“Which wouldn’t have been in danger if you hadn’t turned a blind eye to the presence of an armed maniac in your town, Chief.”
Alex wasn’t sure whom Cochrum was playing to. The news crews were all still outside. Maybe the guy was just in the habit of being a sanctimonious asshole.
“Let’s see the paperwork,” she snapped.
Cochrum handed over the release documents. They were all in order, no doubt
“There’s nothing we can do about it.”
Jerry put his hand on the butt of his gun and muttered, “There’s something
I
can do about it.”
Navarre’s eyes widened a little in fear. He could see his own death on Jerry’s face, just as plainly as Alex could.
“Jerry,” she said sharply. “Go out in the hall. Now.”
“But, Chief—
Do what I told you,” Alex snapped. “In fact, go down to the entrance and help Lester. He’s liable to need a hand keeping order down there.” She paused. “That’s an order, Jerry.”
He sighed and finally nodded. “All right. But sooner or later, somebody’s got to stand up and do what’s right, Chief.”
“Our only concern is what’s legal.”
Jerry gave a contemptuous grunt on his way out of the room. Alex felt a flash of anger and thought about calling him back to give him a few choice words about respecting the chief of police, but she let it go.
Right now, she didn’t have much respect for the legal system herself, and she was part of it, after all.
Navarre relaxed after Jerry was gone. He grinned at her again and said, “He’s a hothead, that one, no?”
“He’s just fed up, like the rest of us are when we see—” Alex stopped herself. It wouldn’t do any good to argue with Navarre.
He wasn’t going to let it go, though. “When you see what?” he demanded. “A dirty Mexican? A spic? You’re a racist, lady, like the rest of this Texan trash.”
She knew she ought to ignore him, but she couldn’t. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Navarre,” she told him. “I’ve lived and worked with Hispanics all my life. The mayor, my boss, is named Ruiz, and my best officer is named Delgado. I’d trust him with my life. I don’t care what color your skin is. You’d still be a vicious animal if you were black or white or yellow.”
“You gonna get what’s comin’ to you one of these days,” Navarre blustered. “All you damn rednecks. Texas will be back where it belongs, as part of Mexico!”
“You tried that a few years ago, remember?” Alex said, referring to the infamous Second Siege of the Alamo. “It didn’t work.”
Navarre settled back against the pillows propped up behind him and glared at her, but he didn’t say anything else.
A short time later, a wave of noise in the hall outside warned Alex of what was coming. As she turned to face the door, it opened and the man she had seen on TV earlier that morning swept into the room. He stopped, took his sunglasses off, and smiled at her.
“Chief Bonner?”
“That’s right.” Alex didn’t return the smile.
“I’m Clayton Cochrum. I represent Mr. Navarre, and I have an order here for his release.”
“He’s been wounded,” Alex said. “He ought to stay here in the hospital.”
Cochrum’s smile disappeared, to be replaced by a look of grave concern. “I’m well aware that my client has been wounded, Chief. That wanton shooting spree by one of your citizens is the reason I’ve filed suit on Mr. Navarre’s behalf, to try to redress the wrong that’s been done him.”
Alex opened her mouth to say something, but Cochrum held up a hand.
“As for his medical condition,” the lawyer went on, “I have a fully-equipped, state-of-the-art private ambulance waiting outside, along with a crack team of doctors and nurses to provide care for him until we can get him to an adequate private facility. This … little country clinic … is hardly the sort of place where he needs to be.”
“The staff of this little country clinic saved his life,” Alex pointed out.
“Which wouldn’t have been in danger if you hadn’t turned a blind eye to the presence of an armed maniac in your town, Chief.”
Alex wasn’t sure whom Cochrum was playing to. The news crews were all still outside. Maybe the guy was just in the habit of being a sanctimonious asshole.
“Let’s see the paperwork,” she snapped.
Cochrum handed over the release documents. They were all in order, no doubt
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