The Shimmer Read Online Free PDF Page B

Although his equipment belt held a modern Glock pistol, Page wasn't surprised to see that he wore cowboy boots.
    "What you said about the airport made me curious, so I asked Harry out there to watch for you. He called to tell me when you arrived. You have your own plane?"
    "A Cessna 172."
    "I get nervous in airplanes." Costigan gestured toward his office.
    "Come in."
    They shook hands as Page stepped through the doorway.
    "I don't know any police officers who can afford a plane." Costigan sat behind a vintage wooden desk. His swivel chair creaked loudly.
    "I inherited it from my father. He was a mechanic in the Air Force.
    Listen, I hope you don't mind if we skip the small talk. I need to know about my wife. You said one of your deputies found her car early this morning." Page did his best to keep his emotions steady.
    "Yes, sir. At the side of a road. To be precise, out at the observation platform."
    "Observation platform?"
    "That's one of the things I figured you'd understand better if I showed you rather than told you about it."
    Page waited for him to elaborate, but Costigan made no effort to do so.
    "Look, I don't understand any of this," Page told him sharply. "Are you sure my wife isn't hurt?"
    "Absolutely sure."
    "And she isn't with anyone?"
    "She's alone. She's staying at a motel here--the Trail's End. I'll take you to her when we're finished." Costigan leaned forward, studying him. "How long have you been a police officer?"
    "Fifteen years."
    Costigan concentrated on the right side of Page's belt, where a chafed area indicated he often wore a holster. "I always feel off balance when I'm not wearing my weapon. Did you bring yours with you?"
    "Do you know any police officer who leaves his gun at home? Do you ever go anywhere without yours, even when you're off duty?"
    Costigan kept studying him.
    "It's not my department's gun. It's my own," Page said. "I have a concealed-carry permit for it. Texas and New Mexico have reciprocal arrangements."
    "I know the law, Mr. Page. But you haven't answered my question."
    "My gun's in my suitcase, which is safely locked in my rental car.
    Why do you ask?"
    "Under the circumstances, I think it would be a good idea if you kept it there."
    "'Under the circumstances'?" The words baffled Page until he realized what Costigan was getting at. "Jesus, surely you don't think I'm a threat to my wife?"
    "Domestic disputes and guns don't go together."
    "But this isn't a domestic dispute." Page tried not to raise his voice.
    "Really? Then why did you ask if she was with anyone? Why did she tell her mother she was going to visit her in San Antonio yet didn't bother to tell you before she left?"
    Page didn't respond for a moment. Didn't know what to say. Then he spread his hands helplessly, trying to keep his words steady.
    "Okay, the truth is, I don't know how to explain this. I have no idea why she left and why she didn't tell me, and I sure as hell have no idea what she's doing here in Rostov."
    "Why she's here--you'll understand tonight. As for what's going on between the two of you . . ."
    "You promised to take me to her." Page stood. "We're wasting time.
    Let's go."
    "We're not finished talking. Sit down. I'm going to tell you a story."
    "A story?" Page stared down at the man behind the desk. "What kind of crazy--"
    "Yes, a story. Humor me--it's about my father. He used to be the police chief here in Rostov."
    "What's that got to do with--"
    "You still haven't sat back down, Mr. Page."
    The intensity in the police chief 's eyes made him hesitate.
    "And then I'll take you to your wife."
    Page sat impatiently. "Tell me your story."
    "One night my father got a phone call from a terrified boy who said his dad was beating his mom. When the boy gave his last name, my father didn't recognize it right away. The family had moved here from Fort Worth a couple of months earlier. The husband had been out of work, and a relative of his who lived here had found him a job at the stock pens.
    "When he