percent chance. She’d probably give it less than that, but that’s how she is: modest to a fault.”
“You’ll call me?”
“The minute I hear from the lab.”
Walt bypassed the sacred doctor-patient privilege by avoiding the doctor altogether and appealing straight to the hospital’s comptroller, a man who served with Walt on Search and Rescue. The phone call took all of five minutes, and by the time he reached the nursery, he had what he needed without having to coax it out of Maggie Sharp.
“Your mother’s dialysis,” he said before even addressing the woman. Behind him deputies Milner and Tilbert leaned against the grille of their cruiser.
Maggie Sharp gnawed on a fingernail. Couldn’t keep her eyes from wandering to the two deputies. She said nothing.
“Your employer need not know,” he said, surprising her. “It won’t be in the papers. You’ll get off with some community service and even that will be kept off the books. Meaning no criminal record. This is a one-time offer. If the information you give me is good enough, if you tell me the truth about what you saw that night and don’t try to give me the runaround, then my guys won’t go tearing up every tree and plant and making a mess of this place. This is a critical decision you’re about to make, Maggie. It has far-reaching implications that will not only affect you but your mother and all your loved ones.”
As she stood stone still, tears burst from both eyes, though she did not sniffle or sob.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she said. “It’s so much money and without insurance . . .”
“Marijuana cultivation?”
She nodded.
“My guys will dismantle it, collect the plants, and we’ll dispose of them. You will agree to two hundred hours of community service. You fail to keep your end of the agreement and there will be dire consequences. Are we in agreement?”
She nodded.
“You saw something. The dead man.”
She nodded again.
“Tell me.”
“A pickup truck.” She hung her head and touched a knuckle to either eye, catching her tears. “I heard it . . . heard it hit something. It must have swerved to avoid an elk or deer, but I didn’t actually see the animal. The pickup came off the road—this is maybe two in the morning—this side of the road and it stopped. Driver gets out. I’m watching all this from hut two. There aren’t any lights in any of the huts. My stuff is underground.”
“Show me.”
Walt turned to his guys and waved them forward.
Inside the open-ended plastic hothouse, Maggie Sharp pulled back one of the shipping pallets used as floorboards between the various rows. Using a spade, she scraped away two inches of dirt, revealing a wooden hatch. An elaborate disguise that would have been impossible to detect. The hatch was six feet square and the hole beneath it contained well over fifty three-foot-tall pot plants heavy with reddish buds. There was an automatic watering system and a row of grow lights. The aroma was pungent.
As the deputies climbed down into the pit, Maggie Sharp pointed.
“I was standing right here.”
“He or she?”
“He.”
“Got out and did what?” Walt asked.
“Started looking around. Don’t know for what. It was a long way, and it was very dark that night.”
“The truck?”
“Had a light rack, I think. Maybe a ski rack. On the top of the cab.”
The description fit Boatwright’s caretaker’s pickup truck. He had no way to reconcile the Engleton bat with Boatwright’s caretaker but for a moment he felt partial relief, as if this might work out okay for Fiona and, more important, Kira.
“Color?”
“Couldn’t see.”
“Make?”
“Pickup truck. That’s all I can tell you. I don’t think it was an extended cab, but it was really dark. I don’t know exactly.”
“Did he find anything? The guy looking?”
“He was outside the truck for, I don’t know, a couple of minutes at least. Maybe he was peeing. Maybe puking. Maybe freaking out at hitting the game and surviving to tell about it. No idea.”
“Just the one guy?”
“Didn’t see anyone else. From that distance, backlit and all, headrests look like heads, you know? I only saw one guy get out. Don’t know about inside the truck.”
“He use a flashlight?”
“No, sir.”
“And you say you heard him hit something?”
“Absolutely. That’s why I came out of the hole. I heard the contact. I heard the tires. Saw the truck off the road.”
She was facing him now, her eyes averted. Frightened. With every sound of destruction from the hole, she winced.