Storm Prey

then they start to deteriorate. Blood pressure is a problem. I’m going to take a nap, and we can talk about what to do at the staff meeting.”
    “I’ll see you at nine o’clock.”
     
     
    LUCAS AND SHRAKE were looking at her: “They put it off?” Lucas asked.
    “The kids are in trouble. We’re going to meet at nine. I’ll tell you what, we’re getting to the point where we’ll have to go no matter what. They can’t be hung up like this.”
    Weather went to their home office to work on correspondence, Lucas went back to bed, Shrake went out to drive around the block, and Virgil turned on the TV Nothing to do but wait ...
     
     
    GABRIEL MARET looked busted. He sat at the cafeteria table with a cup of coffee, talked with Mark Lang, one of the neurosurgeons, and Geoff Perkins, a cardiologist, and when Weather and Virgil came in, he waved and pointed at a chair. Virgil peeled off, taking a chair where he could see the room. Weather sat next to Maret, and he said, “Still have the gunslinger, yes?”
    She sighed and nodded. “Yes.”
    “He looks like a cowboy,” Maret said, watching Virgil. “He’s watching us, I think.”
    “Probably. He’s a little obsessive,” Weather said.
    “With those boots and jeans, he would do very well with French women,” Maret said. “Unless he’s gay?”
    “No. He’s definitely not gay,” Weather said. “He does disgustingly well with American women. He sometimes has Lucas writhing in jealousy.”
    “Ah, well. He will fall, sooner or later,” Maret said.
    “He’s already fallen several times,” Weather said. “So: are we going?”
    Maret shook his head: “Maybe late this afternoon—I’ve asked everybody to be ready. Tomorrow morning is more likely. But Geoff is saying that the kids are in a tailspin. Is that the word? Tailspin?”
    “That’s right, but it’s not good,” Weather said. She looked at Perkins. “What’s happening?”
    He shrugged. “The operation is putting too much pressure on Sara’s heart. To take the pressure off, we slow it down and drop the blood pressure. But that gets on Ellen’s heart, too, and she’s not handling it well.”
    “So what are we doing?” Weather asked.
    “We’re going to try a couple more things, try to balance out the chemistry, get back to stable,” he said. “This afternoon’s a possibility, but tomorrow’s more likely. Still not a sure thing.”
    “We’ve got to wait it out,” Maret said.
    “But the trouble is not going away,” Perkins said. “You might have to make a decision.”
    Maret knew what he meant: “No. I’m not going to lose Sara. We can pull it off.”
    A tear started in one of his eyes, and Weather thought, No way did this guy rob the pharmacy ...
     
     
    THEY TALKED for half an hour, going over and over the possibilities and probabilities, until it began to seem pointlessly obsessive : they knew what the options were. Maret finally tossed his plastic coffee cup at a wastebasket, bounced it in, and said, “I’m going to look at the kids again.”
    Weather went over to Virgil and said, “To reiterate, Gabe had nothing to do with anything, except helping the kids. You’re doing no good, sitting there staring at him under your eyebrows.”
    “What next?” Virgil asked. “Back home?”
    “There’s a small chance we could go this afternoon, so I have to hang around. When will you get that list of French people?”
    Virgil looked at his watch. “Now, I guess. They should be open.” “I’ll come along,” Weather said. “I’d like to look at the list.”
    MARCY SHOWED UP at the BCA with two cops named Franklin and Stone. Lucas and Franklin knuckle-tapped, old pals. Stone was new to detective rank, but had spent five years with the Minneapolis SWAT; he and Franklin had brought SWAT gear. Shrake and Jenkins were planning to ride together, in a BCA truck. Marcy rode with Lucas.
    “We’ll pick up the Washburn deputies in Shell Lake. The sheriff’s coming along—Bill Stephaniak,” Marcy said. “They’re set to pull the warrants, but won’t do it until the last minute, so word doesn’t get around.”
    “They all set on a judge?”
    “Stephaniak says the judge would sign a ham sandwich if you put it in front of him.”
    “Always nice to have one of those,” Lucas said.
     
     
    THE TRIP to Wisconsin took two and a half hours, north up I-35 to Highway 70 through Rock Creek, across the St. Croix River to Grantsburg, Wisconsin, through Siren, to Spooner, and