Gundown (34 page)

What’s the Right of It?

In the Alliance lobby, Marion asked the pretty Hispanic girl if she could see Noah Stone.

“He’s in a meeting . . .” The young woman squinted at Marion. “Don’t I know you? Mister Soldado’s trial, maybe?”

When Marion identified herself as the attorney general, the receptionist said, “Oh, I better let him know.” After a brief phone conversation, she pointed to a spiral staircase and said, “Please go on up. Top floor.”

As Marion neared the top, a man’s voice boomed, “This is crazy, Stone. Worse, it’s socialism.”

Another voice said, “Oh, come on, Adam. Socialism? That’s such a tired old horse.”

She stepped into the room and found Noah Stone and a stocky man sitting across from each other at a round coffee table. She said, “Mr. Stone?”

Stone stood and came to her with a smile and his hand out. “Madam Attorney General, it’s good to see you.” She shook his hand and was warmed by his welcome.

“I don’t want to interrupt—”

“I think my friend Adam and I have reached an impasse.” He took her elbow and guided her to the sitting area. The other man stood and Stone said, “Marion Smith-Taylor, meet Adam Jordan. He’s your party chairman here in Oregon.”

Jordan got to his feet and smiled. “I hope you’ll have better luck than I did. This man is stubborn as a rock.”

“Adam is upset about a bill we’re working up to tie free health care to voting.”

“It’s social—”

“—ism,” Stone finished. “I know what you think.” He gestured to the coffeepot on the table. “A little heart-starter?”

Marion sat and poured a cup while Jordan said, “Noah, you can’t force people to vote, no matter how good your intentions.”

Marion said, “I don’t know about that. Citizens in Australia are required to vote, and fined if they don’t. Did you know that ninety-five percent vote in Australia? Think of it. Ninety-five percent.”

Jordan scowled. “This isn’t Australia.”

Stone sat next to Marion. “And we’re not going to force anybody. It’s voluntary.”

Jordan said, “It’s bribery.”

That got Marion’s attention. “Bribery? With health care?”

“The idea,” Stone said, “is to provide free health insurance to every citizen if they vote. Their kids will be covered, too. A carrot instead of a stick.”

“And if they don’t vote?”

“Then they can buy insurance from a private company or through Obamacare.”

Jordan jabbed a big finger at Stone. “Tell her about the forced exercise part.”

Stone lifted his eyebrows as if to say “Spare me.” “There’s one other little requirement for the free coverage—you have to do a minimum of three hours of exercise a week.”

Jordan folded his arms across his chest. “Kids, too!”

Marion said, “You have to exercise?” That sounded smart.

Stone stood and paced as he talked, passion in his voice. “Yes. We know that exercise makes you healthier. The healthier you are, the less medical care you’ll need, the less money it costs you and the state. It’s a win-win.”

Jordan waved that away. “Unenforceable.”

“I’d like to give the honor system a try.”

Marion said, “Why require voting?” Then it struck her. “This isn’t about health coverage.”

Noah smiled. “You’re good.” He went to a window. “Out there, people are cut off from the whole of us, swamped by the struggles of daily life, turned off by powerlessness, adrift. You’ve heard people say their votes don’t count.”

He faced her. “During elections, we’re so swamped with political gabble that it’s almost impossible to pay close attention, and too many of us let ideologues take over governing until it is too late. I believe that if you have to vote, you will think about issues, at least just a little. You’ll be less likely to be a ‘low-information’ voter controlled by buzzwords and hate speech. If we all have a hand in what happens, that could bring us together, just a little.”

Like everything Noah Stone advocated, it seemed to make sense, both socially and economically. She had to say, “I’d need to study the details, but I don’t think there’s anything legally wrong with your plan.”

Stone turned to Jordan. “So, Adam, can I count on your support in the Senate?”

Jordan said, “My party would kill me.”

Stone winked. “And your voters will love you.”

Jordan grinned at that. “I’ll think on it. That’s all I can promise.” He nodded at Marion. “Pleasure to meet you.” He glanced at Stone. “Good luck with the mule.” She gave him a nod, and he left.

Stone gazed at her. “I’m sure you didn’t just drop by to learn about local politics.”

Local politics? If this idea clicked, it could become national. She sipped her coffee and then said, “I want to understand why we’re on opposite sides and maybe move toward a resolution.”

“I don’t see that we are on opposite sides.”

She set her mug on the table. She couldn’t talk about this without using her hands. “Let me be blunt. You are perverting the rule of law.”

“I see myself as supporting the rule of justice.”

“They’re the same.”

He shook his head. “Not at all. It was once the rule of law that you could enslave human beings.” He pointed at her. “It was once the rule of law that women couldn’t vote. Where’s the justice in that?”

Trapped. She raised her hands in surrender. “Yes, there are bad laws. But we change them.”

He clapped his hands. “Exactly! If the law isn’t working to bring justice, then we change the law so that it does. We use the law to seek justice, not to make rules.”

“But the Constitution—”

“—should be a living set of rules. Interpretation should stem from now, not the 1700s.”

Marion couldn’t disagree with that. Her quiver was empty. She stood. “I don’t like to lose an argument, so I’m going to retire to my corner to lick my wounds and give this some thought.”

He smiled. “You would make a great Ally.” He strode to his desk. “But before you go, I want to ask you about this.” He took something from a drawer and handed it to her.

It was a deer rifle bullet. On the brass case “Noah Stone” was printed. She looked up at Noah.

“It came in the mail. And I’ve seen it before.” He went to his computer and clicked on a bookmark. A page that declared itself to be the Mackinac Militia site came up. Noah clicked a link, and there was a photo of the bullet she held in her hand, or at least one identical to it.

She said, “The Mackinac Militia? Is that the one headed by—”

“Colonel Martha Hanson.” He clicked an “About Us” link and there was Martha Hanson staring out, grim-faced against a background of an American flag.

Noah turned to her. “Is this illegal? Can the law go after them?”

She weighed the bullet in her hand. “This was all that came? No threatening note?”

“That was it. I can’t even prove it came from her. Except for the fact that there it is, on her website.”

“I’ll have to check it out,” Marion said. “Can I keep this?”

“I sure don’t want it.” He turned to the computer screen. “That woman . . . I don’t like to think about why she sent that bullet.”

“Probably just a scare tactic.”

His usual lively face seemed to sink in upon itself, and his shoulders sagged. “Well, it’s working.” He clicked away from the site and turned to her. He put on a smile and said, “Hey, you coming to my speech tonight?”

Marion wanted to learn all she could about Stone. “I’ll be there.”

Joe Donovan stepped in. “Pardon the interruption, but . . .”

Marion said, “No, I’m finished. Thank you, Mr. Stone.” She turned to leave, but Donovan’s words stopped her.

“Dr. Moore called. Hank was released from the Keep. He’s on his way here.”

She turned back. “Is he . . . different?”

Noah said, “He has to be, or they wouldn’t have freed him. But who knows how different? Or in what way.”

Marion shook her head. As far as she could see, the guy was trouble.

• • •

It was afternoon when Hank pulled into the driveway to the Alliance campus. It paralleled a pasture where a couple of cows and a pony grazed. He saw a world far different from his earlier visits, not because it had changed, but because he had. He tapped his foot to the rhythm of Sheryl Crow’s “Every Day Is a Winding Road” on the radio. Yeah, it was long and winding. But now he wanted to travel it.

The pony ambled to a fresh clump of grass, and he thought of how Amy would have delighted in it. If only Marcie hadn’t been sick, there could have been so much joy in their lives. He was glad to find that the love he’d felt for her was still there. She could be at rest now, in his mind.

He drove on toward the campus. A sense of arrival after a long journey energized him. And added a prickle of anxiety. What if Noah Stone didn’t want him around? Well, he’d deliver his information and then go.

As he pulled into a parking space, he recognized a slender figure striding toward the Alliance legal department. Jewel Washington. He turned his head to avoid detection. Was he hiding from her? Yeah, he was. He’d done her wrong, and it wasn’t easy to own up. He owed her. He owed Benson Spencer, too.

He watched her move on. He had to smile—what a fighter. In his new world, he’d like to get to know her . . . but he just might have totally screwed that up by killing her boyfriend and kidnapping her.

A line of dark clouds boiled over the mountains to the west, dimming the day. A gust of wind played with her skirt, and she hurried to enter the building. It was time to get his ass in gear. He got out and headed for the administration building. Hank didn’t know if he had a place here, but he knew he didn’t have one in Chicago. He’d never thought much about “belonging,” but now he had a sense of missing out on something.

When he was a few yards from the door, Noah Stone burst out, trailed by Joe Donovan. Donovan was saying, “Noah, I need to talk to you about security for tonight’s event.”

Noah checked his watch. “You handle it. I’m late for an Alliance board meeting downtown.”

“I can’t brief you if you’re not here.”

“The ceremony’s not until tonight. Catch me later.”

Hank stopped and waited to be noticed. What would Noah do? How bad an idea was this?

Noah’s gaze settled on him, and then he smiled. Tension Hank hadn’t known was there slipped from his shoulders.

“Hank!” Noah strode to him and shook his hand. “Damn, I’m glad to see you!”

Feeling like a little kid whose favorite teacher had just given him a gold star, Hank said, “Yeah. Me, too.”

Donovan stuck out a hand for a shake, and Hank took it. Donovan said, “Good to see you.”

Noah’s gaze appraised Hank. “You okay?”

Hank smiled. “Actually, never better.”

“No hard feelings?”

“Quite the opposite.”

Noah clapped him on the arm. “Damn, that’s good to hear.” He started down the walk and pulled Hank with him; Donovan followed. “You’re coming back with us, right? Say yes.”

Hank hesitated. “Well . . . I need to have a talk with you.”

Noah’s eyes seemed to twinkle with energy. “Great. There’s a lot I want to talk with you about.”

“This is about trouble. A man named Mitch Parsons is coming after you.” At Noah’s blank expression, Hank said, “He says it’s just him, but he’s NRA.”

Noah shrugged. “So what’s new?” They reached a fork in the walk. He paused and probed Hank with his gaze, then laughed. “We’ve got a future ahead of us, Hank, I promise you that.”

Hank raised a hand. “Now, I told you when we met that I couldn’t make that promise of yours.”

“We’ll see.” He gripped Hank’s shoulder. “Man, it’s a great day!” He hustled away to the parking lot.

Donovan looked to Hank. “I can use your help tonight. Come on, I’ve got a meeting about it with the legal folks.”

In the Legal Building, Hank recognized some of the people gathered in the second-floor lounge—Sally Arnold was there, and Benson Spencer. He didn’t know a youngish man, or an older woman putting doughnuts and coffee on a table.

Donovan smiled as he announced, “Look who’s back with us!”

Benson sped to Hank and pumped his hand. “Hank, Hank, Hank!”

Hank grinned, and then he sobered. “I owe you, Benson.”

“What for?”

“You gave me the key.” In response to Benson’s puzzled expression, he clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Another time, over a beer or five.”

Benson beamed. “I’d like that.”

Sally said, “Good to see you.”

Hank was liking this. “Yeah.”

Donovan introduced Mike Potts and the secretary, Marge, then said, “Is Jewel going to help?”

In answer, Benson called, “Jewel! Time!”

Jewel emerged from an office with a frown on her face. “Sorry, I needed to get ready for—” Her eyes widened when she saw Hank.

He nodded.

She averted her gaze and took a chair.

Donovan poured a cup of coffee. “I’ve asked you folks here because we need people to help out at Noah’s speech tonight.”

Benson asked, “Help do what?”

“Just be extra eyes for us and let us know if anything looks suspicious.”

Hank said, “Something is up?”

Joe said, “A top NRA guy named Mitch Parsons just flew in from the East Coast and then paid a visit to Rick Hatch, and the only reason we can think of to visit him is to get a gun.” He gestured at Hank. “And Hank tells us he’s after Noah. On top of that, Marion Smith-Taylor is here, too.”

Sally cocked an eyebrow at Hank. “How’d you know about Parsons?”

Hank said, “He contacted me back in Chicago about working with him, but I went with Noah. The good thing is I’ll know him when I see him.” It was time to get off this topic. “What about the attorney general?”

“She’s a puzzle,” Joe said. “She came to see Noah, and he says he had a good conversation with her.” He frowned. “But she still worries me. I talked to friends in the Justice Department, and the word is she wants to come after the Alliance but doesn’t have legal grounds, and she’s pretty pissed about it.”

Mitch hadn’t wanted to take action himself before, so why was he here? He seemed like a decent guy, and definitely not the type to shoot somebody. Hank wished he could call Mitch right then, but it would have to wait.

Joe asked the group, “Are you familiar with these people?”