Blood Sweep by Steven F. Havill Read Free Book Online

wishes, please.”
    The thirty-year Sheriff’s Department veteran, former New Mexico livestock inspector, inveterate historian and repository of a gazetteer’s worth of information about the Southwest in general and Posadas County in particular, lay plumbed, padded, and monitored in one of the two intensive care beds. His eyes were closed and as Estelle Reyes-Guzman hesitated at the door, he opened first one and then the other. He reached for his glasses and settled them in place. Owl-eyed, he regarded Estelle with something akin to amusement.
    The undersheriff stood beside the bed for just a moment, then reached out a hand and patted his left knee, letting her fingers trace the outline of his kneecap.
    â€œSo,” she said.
    â€œI’d walk out of here if I could.” Gastner’s voice was raspy.
    â€œWe’ve done that before, haven’t we? Are they managing the pain all right for you?”
    â€œOh, sure,” he said dismissively. “Some really good stuff. And maybe I need it. Your hubby showed me the X-rays. I’m in a hell of a lot of pieces.” He eyed Estelle critically. “You’re lookin’ good.”
    â€œWell, up until your taking a dive, it’s been kind of a downtime. Lots of sessions with Leona on the budget, everybody behaving themselves…I think I’ve finally caught up on some sleep.” She smiled at him as he raised his right arm in slow motion and settled it on top of his head, fingers idly scratching his closely cropped hair. “You’ll be okay, Padrino. They were kind of worried about some congestion.”
    â€œNah. A little too long camped out on the garage floor is all. But I did a thorough job on the hip. Anything worth doing, you know. They’ve really got me cornered this time.”
    â€œYou were just standing beside your truck when you lost your balance?”
    â€œWell, essentially. I turned a little bit for something, I don’t remember what, and the next thing I know, I’m examining the concrete floor. I’d like to be able to say, ‘you should see the other guys,’ but I can’t claim heroism for this one.”
    Estelle glanced at her watch. “The plane should be here in less than an hour, Padrino. Then you’ll get a new bionic hip, and you’ll be running sprints in no time.”
    He huffed a feeble chuckle. “Sure enough.” He lifted his left hand, the right still in place on his head, and examined the tips of his fingers. “You know, a few dozen times over the years, I’ve watched other folks play out this same scene. I know what the goddamn score is.” His face brightened. “But see, I know some things they don’t. The secret road to healthy bone growth and repair lies in green chile. We’ll find out how good my credit is with Fernando Aragon.” He lifted his head a little, looking hopeful at his own mention of Aragon, owner of Gastner’s favorite restaurant, the Don Juan de Oñate. “I don’t suppose you happened to bring a snack with you.”
    â€œI’ve failed you,” Estelle said with deep, mock sympathy. “I was going to propose that when you break out of here that you buy yourself one of those luxury RVs and park it right in the Don Juan’s parking lot. That way, your restaurant therapy would be just a shout away.”
    His eyes narrowed in speculation. “That’s a profoundly good idea, sweetheart.”
    â€œDennis Mears sends you his best, by the way.”
    â€œHe’s worried I’ll fall behind on some payment now? We gotta keep him happy, except I don’t owe him a goddamn cent. He’s the one who will finance the RV that you’re suggesting, though.”
    She laughed. “I want to see that.”
    A knuckle rapped on the door and Melinda Gabriel bustled in. As wide as she was tall, the ICU nurse advanced to the head of the bed so that her face was a foot from