Darkness the Color of Snow Read Online Free PDF Page B

holds the gun up and squints at it. He turns it in his hand a ­couple of times.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    â€œNothing. Trying to read the serial number.”
    â€œI can read it for you.”
    Gordy paws at his desk for his glasses. When he finds them under some papers, he puts them on and turns on the desk lamp. He studies the numbers then writes them down. When he is done, he picks up the form he has been writing on, tears off a copy, and hands it to Ronny. “Your receipt,” he says.
    â€œWhy do I have to give up my gun?”
    â€œI told you. For the next five days, you’re not a working cop. You’re a cop, but not a working one. You’re not authorized to carry a weapon. Also for your own safety.”
    â€œMy safety?”
    â€œStandard in cases where the officer is involved in a fatal.”
    â€œYou think I’m going to kill myself?”
    â€œNo. But we try to deal with all possible events, not just the likely ones. It’s procedure, Ronny. Procedure.”
    â€œAny other procedures?”
    â€œYou’re going to have to fill out a report. You can wait until tomorrow, but no longer than that. OK? Let me know when you’re ready.”
    â€œI’ll do it now.”
    â€œAre you sure? You don’t want a little time to think about it, to get it all straight in your head?”
    â€œIt’s straight in my head.”
    â€œAll right. Remember, this is the official version of what happened. If you make a mistake, it could come back to haunt you. I’m going to advise you to wait, to think it through a ­couple of times. Come back and do it tomorrow. Write it out, then let it rest a few hours before you read it over. A suggestion, not an order.”
    â€œBut it’s what you want me to do?”
    â€œYes. It’s my suggestion to you.”
    â€œTomorrow then?”
    â€œYes, tomorrow. Things will be better tomorrow. Take today and pull yourself together. Talk to your loved ones. Reassure them that you’re all right. Reassure yourself. Get your thoughts in order and come back tomorrow.”
    Ronny nods as if Gordy has just given him a lecture on quantum physics. He turns and goes back into the main office. He can feel the absence of his weapon on his right hip. He feels off balance.
    G ORDY FEELS SORRY for the kid. He really does. He doesn’t want to make more of this than it is, to make Ronny feel worse than he does. He doesn’t want to freeze him up with the enormity of what has happened. This is going to be with Ronny the rest of his life.
    It was 1963, Fort Bliss, Texas. Gordy was a private first class in the MPs. He liked the job. It seemed like something important, even when his primary job was pulling drunk soldiers out of bars in El Paso and Ciudad Juarez, though, officially, they never crossed the border. It was also often an interesting job, with changes of scenery and assignment. Usually. Not this night.
    Gordy was in a patrol on watch over a convoy that had rolled in from the east. The cargo was top secret, which meant that it was more than likely nuclear. They were in an especially tense part of the Cold War, just months past the Cuban missile crisis. Everyone was moving nuclear weapons around, searching for the strategic upper hand.
    That was the thinking. All Gordy had been told was that no one, no one, was to go near the convoy. They were authorized to shoot on sight. Gordy was walking the southern perimeter, a good assignment considering it was cold in that southern Texas way when the clear sky made for a sharp and brittle night. Walking was far better than taking up a stationary position.
    He saw the shape moving in front of him, heading south toward the fence. He immediately ordered whoever it was to halt and identify. Instead the shape lurched forward, doing an awkward run as it carried something in its arms. He again ordered it to halt. It did not, and Gordy fired.
    There was not enough light to see