Under the Dome

'It'll be strictly softball,' Big Jim had said. 'A formality.'

And so it was.

'How'd you find the bodies, son?' Randolph asked, rocking back in the swivel chair behind the desk. He had removed all of Perkins's personal items and put them in a file cabinet on the other side of the room. Now that Brenda was dead, he supposed he could dump them in the trash. Personal effects were no good when there was no next of kin.

'Well,'Junior said, 'I was coming back from patrol out on 117 - I missed the whole supermarket thing - '

'Good luck for you,' Randolph said. 'That was a total cock-and-balls, if you'll pardon my fran-kays. Coffee?'

'No thanks, sir. I'm subject to migraines, and coffee seems to make them worse.'

'Bad habit, anyway. Not as bad as cigarettes, but bad. Did you know I smoked until I was Saved?'

'No, sir, I sure didn't.'Junior hoped this idiot would stop blathering and let him tell his story so he could get out of here.

'Yep, by Lester Coggins.' Randolph splayed his hands on his chest. 'Full-body immersion in the Prestile. Gave my heart to Jesus right then and there. I haven't been as faithful a churchgoer as some, certainly not as faithful as your dad, but Reverend Coggins was a good man.' Randolph shook his head. 'Dale Barbara's got a lot on his conscience. Always assuming he has one.'

'Yes, sir.'

'A lot to answer for, too. I gave him a shot of Mace, and that was just a small down payment on what he's got coming. So. You were coming back from patrol and?'

'And I got to thinking that someone told me they'd seen Angie's car in the garage. You know, the McCain garage.'

'Who told you that?'

'Frank?' Junior rubbed his temple. 'I think maybe it was Frank.'

'Go on.'

'So anyway, I looked in one of the garage windows, and her car was there. I went to the front door and rang the bell, but nobody answered. Then I went around to the back because I was worried. There was... a smell.'

Randolph nodded sympathetically. 'Basically, you just followed your nose. That was good police work, son.'

Junior looked at Randolph sharply, wondering if this was a joke or a sly dig, but the Chief's eyes seemed to hold nothing but honest admiration. Junior realized that his father might have found an assistant (the first word actually to occur to him was accomplice) who was even dumber than Andy Sanders. He wouldn't have thought that possible.

'Go on, finish up. 1 know this is painful to you. It's painful to all of us.'

'Yes, sir. Basically it's just what you said. The back door was unlocked, and I followed my nose straight to the pantry. I could hardly believe what I found there.'

'Did you see the dog tags then?'

'Yes. No. Kind of. I saw Angie had something in her hand...on a chain... but I couldn't tell what it was, and I didn't want to touch anything.' Junior looked down modestly. 'I know I'm just a rookie.'

'Good call,' Randolph said. 'Smart call. You know, we'd have a whole forensic team from the State Attorney General's office in there under ordinary circumstances - really nail Barbara to the wall - but these aren't ordinary circumstances. Still, we've got enough, I'd say. He was a fool to overlook those dog tags.'

'I used my cell phone and called my father. Based on all the radio chatter, I figured you'd be busy down here - '

'Busy?' Randolph rolled his eyes. 'Son, you don't know the half of it. You did the right thing calling your dad. He's practically a member of the department.'

'Dad grabbed two officers, Fred Denton and Jackie Wettington, and they came on over to the McCains' house. Linda Everett joined us while Freddy was photographing the crime scene. Then Stewart Bowie and his brother showed up with the funeral hack. My dad thought that was best, things being so busy at the hospital with the riot and all.'

Randolph nodded. 'Just right. Help the living, store the dead. Who found the dog tags?'

'Jackie. She pushed Angie's hand open with a pencil and they fell right out on the floor. Freddy took pictures of everything.'

'Helpful at a trial,' Randolph said. 'Which we'll have to handle ourselves, if this Dome thing doesn't clear up. But we can. You know what the Bible says: With faith, we can move mountains. What time did you find the bodies, son?'

'Around noon.' After I took some time to say goodbye to my girlfriends.

'And you called your father right away?'

'Not right away.'Junior gave Randolph a frank stare.'First I had to go outside and vomit. They were beaten up so bad. I never saw anything like that in my life.' He let out a long sigh, being careful to put a small tremble in it. The tape recorder probably wouldn't pick up that tremble, but Randolph would remember it. 'When I was done heaving, that was when I called Dad.'

'Okay, I think that's all I need.' No more questions about the timeline or about his 'morning patrol'; not even a request for Junior to write up a report (which was good, since writing inevitably gave him a headache these days). Randolph leaned forward to snap off the tape recorder. 'Thank you, Junior. Why don't you take the rest of the day off? Go home and rest. You look beat.'

'I'd like to be here when you question him, sir. Barbara.'

'Well, you don't have to worry about missing that today. We're going to give him twenty-four hours to stew in his own juices. Your dad's idea, and a good one. We'll question him tomorrow afternoon or tomorrow night, and you'll be there. I give you my word. We're going to question him vigorously!

'Yes, sir. Good.'

'None of this Miranda stuff.'

'No, sir.'

'And thanks to the Dome, no turning him over to the County Sheriff, either.' Randolph looked at Junior keenly. 'Son, this is going to be a true case of what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.'

junior didn't know whether to say yes, sir or no, sir to that, because he had no idea what the idiot behind the desk was talking about.