Free Lizardskin by Carsten Stroud

suit?”
    “Manyberries
versus
Provo Gas Transfer, Felcher, et al. We lost the criminal on a faulty pathology report, but Provo Gas Transfer agreed to an out-of-court. Five years after.” It had paid for his daughter Laurel’s college tuition.
    “Yes. And didn’t Doc Hogeland—”
    “It took Alice three months to die. Doc Hogeland paid for all of her medical expenses himself, as well as mine. He said the State owed it to the Crow Nation.”
    Ballard was quiet for a while. Beau tried to see something other than blue fire and flying glass and red blood.
    “I’m sorry, Beau. That was a big case. Spellman Sterling wrote a paper on it for the law review. I remember reading it in school. I didn’t get the connection. I never knew she was your wife.”
    “She had to keep the Manyberries name, or Indian Affairswould have taken away her status. We married under Crow ritual. Never mind, Vanessa. It’s a long time back.”
    There was another long silence.
    Finally, Ballard reached forward and turned the recorder back on.
    “Ah … yes, Sergeant. That would seem to be persuasive. So the—the—kill zone would have been somewhere in the area of one half-mile, in your informed opinion?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “And can you tell us what buildings and people might lie within a half-mile of Bell’s Oasis?”
    “Yes, ma’am. About half of the town of Pompeys Pillar, including most of the main shopping area and two other gas stations that might have become involved in the subsequent fire.”
    “We have noted that these events took place around four-thirty on the afternoon of Friday this date. Can you estimate for us how many citizens might have been within the blast radius of this tank at that time?”
    “I can try—say, fifteen hundred people.”
    “I see. Fifteen hundred men, women, and children. Can you tell us what steps you considered taking to prevent this explosion?”
    “Yes, ma’am. I made several verbal attempts to dissuade Mr. Bell from discharging his weapon in that direction.”
    “With what words, Sergeant?”
    “What words?”
    “Yes. What words did you use to dissuade Mr. Bell from shooting at the tank?”
    “I said … I said if that tank went up, we’d all come down as pink rain. I may have called him an asshole, too.”
    “I see. And what was Mr. Bell’s response?”
    “He stood up and prepared to fire again.”
    “And at this point, what did you do?”
    “At that point, nothing. At that point, one of the Indians—Mr. Bell was struck in the left shoulder by an arrow that seemed to have been fired from behind the propane tank.”
    “And what effect did this missile have upon Mr. Bell?”
    “Jeez—what effect!? He didn’t like it. It made him angry. He came out from behind the gas pump and fired another shell at the tank.”
    “And what were your actions then?”
    “Then I yelled at him to stop, and he said he was going to get some payback—”
    “Pay back? Were those his words? Pay back?”
    “One word. Payback. It’s an army term, ma’am. Bell was in the army for years. It means to get even. To get some.”
    “I see. And did Mr. Bell continue firing after you had given him this verbal warning?”
    “He fired that once, ma’am.”
    “And what did you do?”
    “I had the Browning on him at that point—”
    “The Browning being your service revolver?”
    “It’s not a revolver, ma’am. It’s a semiauto pistol.”
    “Was it loaded at that time?”
    “If it ain’t loaded, it’s a paperweight. Ma’am.”
    “And you pointed this device at Mr. Bell?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “And you issued a verbal warning?”
    “Yes, ma’am. A loud one.”
    “What was the distance between you and Mr. Bell?”
    “About seventy feet.”
    “What happened then?”
    “Mr. Bell was moving around some and screaming. He was trying to raise the weapon and get off another shell.”
    “At this time, he had an arrow in his body?”
    “In his shoulder, ma’am.”
    “And yet you still