Free Full Measure: A Novel by T. Jefferson Parker

for Bostic. “Anyway,” he said. “My mind wanders to Iris Cash a lot.”
    “She’s very attractive,” said Ted.
    “Yeah. And she’s a fighter. She thinks her stories are weapons. But for good, you know, to help people. She’s trying to get lighted crosswalks downtown, even though her own city council said no.”
    Ted glugged down some water and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “I heard about that. Evelyn Anders is behind it.”
    Patrick cut his brother a sharp look. “Don’t.”
    “I won’t. I’m not. I’ve got my orders.” Ted nodded and pursed his lips but Patrick could tell that he wasn’t going to be able to silence himself. “You know, Pat—Evelyn Anders is Mom’s and Dad’s financial advisor. Isn’t it weird that with her, our parents have lost so much money?”
    “Everybody has, Ted. It’s a bad recession. Not everything is personal. Not everything is a conspiracy. Not everything can be blamed on a small-town mayor.”
    “Government is the problem, Pat. I’m sure of it.”
    “Work, Ted. Work.”
    *   *   *
    At cocktails Patrick stood on the Norris patio and watched the sun setting over the distant hills. He was tired from the grove work but pleased with their progress. He thought about the fishing boat he’d seen for sale on the Web last night. It was an older but very neat seventeen-foot Mako Pro Skiff, set up well for fly casters, trailered and allegedly pampered. Thirteen grand.
    Ted sat shoeless in a rocking chair, rubbing his foot through a blackened sock, a large tumbler of iced tea sweating on the deck beside him. He had brought a computer out to the porch to watch the San Diego news. “I’ve decided to drive the taxi on weekends and some evenings,” he said. “It pays and I need the money.”
    Archie and Caroline both looked from the monitor to Ted, and the swinging love seat they shared swayed to a gradual stop. “If you have the energy for two jobs, like Pat does, then more power to you,” said Archie. “I think all of you should know that I’ll be talking to the farm bankers down in Escondido tomorrow. I’m hoping we can get a loan to order replacement trees.”
    “It’s like a government conspiracy to wreck our family,” said Ted.
    “In what way?” asked Archie. “I’m just talking to the bank, Ted.”
    “But it’s funny how she bailed them out but not us.”
    “She?” asked Caroline.
    “The nanny state, Mom. Bailing out the banks.”
    “Look,” said Archie. “I don’t love the government either, son. But leave the whining back in the bunkhouse before work tomorrow. And wear some boots with better support.”
    “Do you still have the good orthotics?” asked Caroline.
    “I’ll find them. In the closet somewhere.”
    “I think this calls for a toast,” said Caroline. They lifted their glasses and waited. “To the Norrises—back from one war and into another.”
    They clinked glasses and Patrick felt emotion in it, the simple act of touching. Then a TV story about the disastrous Fallbrook fire came on the news and he saw Fire Chief Bruck, Sheriff Hazzard, and Mayor Anders on the dais at City Hall. The Fallbrook city seal was visible behind them. With the two men standing slab-faced on either side of her, Evelyn Anders announced that the fire was conclusively arson and that the current damages were three human lives and approximately two billion dollars in damaged property. She said that anyone who had information leading to the arrest and conviction of the arsonist would get a reward of $50,000 from San Diego Gas & Electric.
    “That’s big government in bed with big business,” said Ted. “Fifty thousand is nothing to them. She’ll draw a fat pension and they’ll raise the rates whenever they want. No wonder we the people can’t win.”
    Patrick watched the next story, about an Al-Qaeda magazine calling for American jihadists to start forest fires in America in the summer and fall. Apparently “detailed instructions” were