Server Down by J.M. Hayes

ride?” Cherokee asked Mad Dog.
    â€œYeah,” he said, “only I don’t know where.”
    â€œThat’s okay,” Cherokee said. “I’m probably too drunk to find it, anyway. And I sure don’t need to be getting no DUI.” He handed Mad Dog his keys. “That red Chevy over there. You drive and we’ll take a couple of these drunk brothers home.”
    â€œI don’t know,” Mad Dog said. He was a little woozy himself, though he’d just begun his second can of malt.
    â€œYou’ll be fine,” Cherokee said. “Besides, after what you told us, if the man stops us, he ain’t gonna breathalize you. Hell, cop killer like you—they’ll shoot you dead before you can get outta the car.”
    ***
    Both lines to the Benteen County Sheriff’s office rang simultaneously. The sheriff nodded to Mrs. Kraus. “Looks like we’re on duty early today,” he said. He maneuvered his walker over to his desk while Mrs. Kraus got the first line. He picked up the second and said, “Sheriff English.”
    â€œHi, Daddy.” It was Heather. “Guess what I did?”
    He didn’t feel like guessing and didn’t get the chance when Mrs. Kraus held up her phone and told him, “Tucson Police Department for you.”
    â€œCan you hang on, honey?” he asked. “I’ve got an official call on the other line.”
    â€œI may know what that’s about,” she said, “but go ahead and take it. It might save me some explaining.”
    He didn’t like the sound of that, but he put her on hold and punched the button for the other line.
    â€œI thought we had an agreement to cooperate on this investigation,” a voice said. He didn’t recognize it. It wasn’t one of the detectives he’d talked to before. Nor was it that Sewa Police captain.
    He’d opened his end of the conversation the same way he’d answered his daughter’s call. “I identified myself. Perhaps you could extend me the same courtesy.”
    â€œThis is Deputy Chief Dempsey, Tucson Police Department. Acting chief at the moment, until the regular chief gets back from a conference. I’m told we had an agreement. You’d do what you could to talk your brother into surrendering and we wouldn’t hold your daughter if she’d stay with the Jardine woman.”
    â€œThat’s correct.” The sheriff thought he knew why Heather was calling now.
    â€œThat doesn’t seem to be working on this end. Your daughter made a run for it and got away.”
    â€œDo you plan to charge her?”
    â€œNot yet. But we can change that, put out a warrant if she doesn’t turn herself back in, and damn soon.”
    The sheriff nodded. “I see.”
    â€œThen there’s another matter,” Dempsey said. “You suggested your brother might be willing to surrender to our Sergeant Parker.”
    â€œI intend to suggest it to him when he calls back. He hasn’t done that yet.”
    Dempsey’s tone made it clear he didn’t believe the sheriff. “Sergeant Parker had a visitor a few minutes ago. A man covered in black body paint with white lightning bolts on his arms, legs and face. He broke into her house and tried to kill her with a hatchet.”
    â€œMad Dog would never do that.” Even as he denied the possibility, the sheriff wondered if his brother could have gotten into some bad peyote or screwed up a joke on Parker, not that Mad Dog knew where she lived.
    â€œFunny,” Dempsey said. “Sergeant Parker also says it couldn’t have been him. But I’ll tell you what I told her. Even a city the size of Tucson is going to have a limited number of whacked-out, body-painted shamans running around assaulting people with edged weapons on any given night. That’s why I issued an armed and dangerous warning to my people a few minutes ago, along with an order to use all