The Poacher's Son (Mike Bowditch 1)

him in the ICU. He has some internal injuries, and they’re worried about his heart.”
    “He lost a lot of blood out on the lake.”
    “You did what you could.” She reached into her pocket and handed me something. In my palm was a Warden Service I.D. card. “I guess I forgot to give this to Malcomb. Oops.”
    Just then, as if summoned by the sound of his name, the lieutenant came hurrying through the emergency room door. He always looked so stone-faced, but to night there was real fear in his eyes. He had just lost his wife last year to cancer, and now his close friend was also near death.
    “How is he?” he asked Kathy in his gravel voice.
    She told him what she knew.
    He listened intently without even a glance in my direction. If he was concerned about me, he didn’t show it. But after Kathy finished, he turned and stared into my eyes and, after a long silence, said, “It sounds like you saved his life, Warden.”
    Hearing him call me “Warden” was a surprise after everything that had happened, but I wasn’t getting my hopes up. “It was my fault he was injured.”
    “I doubt Charley would agree with you.” He removed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, then remembered where he was and stashed them back. “He’s a tough old bird. He’s walked away from crashes before.”
    I got the impression that Malcomb was trying to convince himself of this. “So now what do we do?” I asked.
    “We find a doctor to check you over. And then we wait.”
    “Would you mind if I borrowed your cell phone first? I have someone to call.”
     
    “Michael?” said my mother. I’d reached her at the home of Neil’s daughter in Long Beach, California, where they were staying until my father could be brought to justice. “Michael, what is it?”
    “He’s dead, Mom.”
    She caught her breath, loud enough for me to hear. “What—? What happened?”
    “He shot himself. It’s true what the police said. He was the one who killed those men.”
    “No.”
    “He was guilty all along, but we were too blind to see it.”
    “No.” Her voice was shaky. She was close to sobbing. “Why? Why would he do such a thing?”
    I didn’t intend to be cruel to her. The truth was brutal enough. But who was I to shield her from it now? “It was all over a woman that he loved. But she’s dead now, too. He came back to Rum Pond for her, and when she died, he must have decided that he couldn’t go on without her.”
    “Who was she?”
    “Just a girl.”
    “I always thought—” She was crying openly now, no longer holding anything back. “I always thought it would be me.”
    So there it was. Fifteen years ago, after her divorce, she had expected a similar phone call, but it never came. Was it my imagination, or was she jealous that in the end he had loved another woman more?
    “Michael?” It was Neil. He had taken the phone from her. “Your mother is—she’s very upset. My God, it’s horrible news.”
    Holding the phone to my head, I put a hand to my other ear to cover the clamor of the hospital. What more was there to say, at this point? “You were right, Neil. You were right, about him, and we were wrong. We should have listened to you.”
    He paused. “You weren’t thinking clearly—neither of you were.” He paused, and I could hear her sobbing in the background. “What’s going to happen? What are people saying up there?”
    Why was I surprised that neither of them had asked about me? “I’m sure it’ll be front-page news tomorrow. If you’re worried about the media, you might want to stay out there for a few more days.” Across the room I saw more wardens streaming into the waiting room. Charley Stevens had friends beyond counting. “Neil, I have to go. Tell my mom that I love her.”
    After I hung up, I took a step toward the gathering wardens, then looked down at the cell phone in my hand. Finally, I got up the nerve to call Sarah.
    “I’ve been so worried about you,” she said.
    I’d wanted so much to hear her voice, but then when she answered, I found that I could barely speak. “Thanks.”
    “Kathy called me on her way to the hospital. She told me what happened. It’s so horrible.”
    “You don’t know the whole story.” My voice broke as I said this.
    She must have sensed something about my emotional state because she paused a long time before she spoke. “Mike, did he hurt you?”
    “No,” I lied.
    “Can you tell me what happened?”
    I could feel something inside myself