Hawkins assimilated that, then looked at Dutch, seeing him in a new light. “Aw, man. That sucks.”
What sucked was being pitied by the likes of Cal Hawkins.
Wes said, “Cal, think you can back your rig down to the main road?”
Hawkins, inspired by sympathy into a more agreeable mood, said he would give it a shot. With them guiding him, he got the sanding truck back onto the highway and turned in the direction of town. Dutch ordered Bull to ride with Hawkins, warning his officer to keep a sharp eye on him and not let him do anything that would sabotage the rig’s future use.
“Wouldn’t put it past him to wreck it on purpose so he’d get out of trying again tomorrow.” Following in the Bronco, Dutch ground his teeth. “That gutless, drunken son of a bitch.”
“The demise of Cal Hawkins Jr. would signify no great loss. I give you that,” said Wes. “But Jesus, Dutch, weren’t you a bit over the line to draw a gun on him?”
“Did you have to tell him that Lilly was with another man? It’ll be all over town by daybreak. No telling what they’ll be saying she and Ben Tierney are doing together up there to keep warm and while away the hours. You know how the minds of these people work.”
“I see how yours is working.”
Dutch shot him an angry glance.
“Besides,” Wes continued, “I didn’t mention Ben Tierney by name. For all Hawkins knows, she’s holed up with some old coot.”
“Hardly.”
“Look, I told him because that’s a situation he can relate to. Driving up this mountain during a blizzard to rescue a stranded citizen? He can’t understand a sense of duty like that. But going after your woman who’s with another man, now that would justify any rash action. Even threatening someone with a gun.”
They said no more until they reached the garage. Dutch told Bull to return to headquarters and see if his help was needed anywhere. If not, he could go home.
“Will do, sir.” Looking down at the floor, the officer said awkwardly, “I’m sorry about, you know, not being able to get to your wife.”
“See you tomorrow,” Dutch said curtly.
The officer headed for his squad car. Hawkins was already scrambling into his pickup when Dutch caught up with him. “I’ll be looking for you first thing tomorrow morning. You’d better be easy to find.”
“I’ll be at my house. You know where it’s at?”
“I’ll pick you up at dawn. When I get there, if you’re drunk or hungover, you’ll wish I’d gone ahead and shot you.”
They followed Hawkins’s pickup out of the garage. Not surprisingly, one of its taillights was missing. “I should write him a citation for that,” Dutch grumbled when Hawkins split off at an intersection.
When they reached the Hamers’ house, Wes said, “Drop me at the end of the driveway. No need to pull in.”
Dutch brought the Bronco to a stop. Neither man spoke for several moments. Wes stared glumly through the windshield and finally said, “No sign of it letting up, is there?”
Dutch cursed the maelstrom of snow and sleet. “I’m getting up there tomorrow if I have to sprout wings and fly.”
“That’s exactly what you may have to do,” Wes said. “Where are you off to now?”
“I’m going to drive around town a bit. Check things out.”
“Why don’t you park it for the night, Dutch? Get some sleep.”
“Couldn’t if I tried. I’m running on adrenaline and caffeine now.”
Wes studied him for a moment before saying, “I recommended you for this job.”
Dutch turned and gave his friend a hard look. “Having second thoughts?”
“None. But I don’t think I’m out of order by reminding you how much your future is riding on succeeding here.”
“Look, if you think I’m botching the job—”