Free Fire - C. J. Box [107]
Layborn’s good eye bored into him. His mouth was set; a vein throbbed angrily in his temple.
“So,” McCann said, “were you the one they were going to send after me? I’d guess so, since you have nothing else to contributeto the deal except your willingness to bash heads. I mean, I wouldn’t guess you’d have much to invest with a park ranger’s salary, right? And they’re not the types who do the dirty work themselves, so they need someone like you, a Neanderthalwith a badge. Your trusty told me about the two old men who got beaten last night. He said they were in a room registeredto Joe Pickett, but no one knows who they were. That was your handiwork, right?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So when it comes to me, what were you going to do? Come to my office in West Yellowstone, shoot me in the head? Blame it on the angry locals? Was that the plan? Or were you going to bushwhack me somewhere?”
Layborn glared at him, then raised his watch to signal that McCann’s time was quickly passing.
McCann said, “When they didn’t pay or communicate, I knew they went to Plan B. Problem was, they didn’t have a Plan B so they had to come up with one. They’re schemers, but they’re not from the street like I am. I was ten steps ahead of them, as usual. By the time they figured out they had to get rid of me, here I was under protective custody. Maybe they’re finallyrealizing they’re just not smart enough to proceed without me. That’s something I knew all along.”
While McCann talked, he watched blood drain from Layborn’s face, even though the ranger tried hard not to react to anything that he said. But the lack of reaction was a reaction in itself, McCann knew. He’d seen it in witnesses on the stand, and in his own clients. Outrageous accusations should be met with outraged denials if the person accused was innocent. Lack of reaction meant guilt. He had him.
McCann paused, said, “I need you to get a message to them, and you need to get it right.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“I think you know. In fact, I know you do.”
“You’re wasting my time. I don’t like talking to lawyers. Lawyers are the problem, not the solution, is the way I think about things.”
“Until you need one.”
“I don’t plan to.”
McCann chanced a smile. “No one ever does.”
“You guys are like wolves. You work the edges of the herd and go after the sick and weak.”
“Wolves are an important part of the ecosystem, Ranger Layborn.”
“I hate wolves.”
“Like the ecosystem, our laws are far too complex for mere mortals to understand. That’s why we need lawyers. It’s not like our laws are moral codes—they’re just a set of rules dreamed up by politicians to keep themselves in power and placate their contributors. I’m a lawyer, and I help powerless mortals cope with the rules and sometimes circumvent them. It’s part of our ecosystem.”
Layborn started to speak, then shook his head, sputtered, “That’s bullshit.”
“No it isn’t, and you know it,” McCann said softly. “If our laws were honest and based on universal truth, I’d be on death row for six murders. Instead, I can walk out of here any damned time I please.”
“I wish you would,” Layborn growled. “See how far you make it.”
“Ah, now we’re getting to the crux of it.”
“Crux of what? I don’t like this word-game shit.”
“Of course you don’t,” McCann said. “You’re a simple man of the law. And when I say that, I mean it in the worst possible way.”
“Are you insulting me?”
McCann snorted, “Me? Never!”
“I’m leaving,” the ranger said, rising to his feet.
McCann leaped up. “Stop!”
Layborn froze.
“Tell them the slate is clean again. Tell them. No one knows except us. I took care of that for them yesterday. No charge.”
Layborn showed no expression.
“Tell them they have one choice, and one choice only. They can pay me what they owe me or I call the FBI tomorrow and work out a deal for immunity. Got that?”
Layborn hesitated. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on. Sure you do. Repeat the terms to me so I know they sunk in.”
Layborn stared back with what looked like fear in his eyes. Thank God, McCann thought.