Mason ran his fingers around the hat band, found the note Della Street had placed there.Yes, yes. Thank you, Della. Devine knew all about this because the CID had interrogated him after Hawkinss death, tried to screw with his head, lied to him, tried to get him to confess, pounded him with everything they had. Only the body had been so torn up by animals that the forensics were of no use in assigning legal blame to Devine, and the injuries he had incurred in his fight with Hawkins were minimal and inconclusive. All soldiers had bumps and bruises and cuts. And any DNA of one man found on the other was also inconclusive, since they served in close proximity to one another. No witnesses, no other evidence, and a time of death that was all over the place allowed Devine to reasonablyargue that he had an alibi for the broad time window in question. The CID had finally given up. Devine also assumed that they didnt want to pursue it more thoroughly because doing so might open up for scrutiny the whitewash investigation they had done of Blankenships supposed suicide. He wasnt as old and infirm as hed pretended to be last night, but he wasnt young and there was a stiffness — maybe soreness — in the legs he was pushing much faster than they wanted to be pushed. Are your people on station here yet? Its not your fault. I havent seen Mr. Cowl for a while. Everything okay with him? Objected to as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial, Hamilton Burger said. After grabbing his phone, he ran back outside and called 911 and then the gas companys emergency number. There was a garden hose next to the front door. He turned it on and sprinkled water over the women. Then he patted their faces, turned them on their sides, and applied pressure to their backs to help their lungs expand. Their breaths started getting deeper, and their color finally started returning; Speers even managed to sit up. She looked at Devine. She grinned with cute little white teeth.Nobodys perfect. May I ask just what your interest might be in President Mixs disappearance, Mr. Longmire? Neither Murfin nor Quane wanted any mint in their drinks so I mixed two without and one with. After we had all taken our first swallows, Murfin looked around, nodded approvingly at what he could see from the porch, and said,You sure got it fixed up nice. I never thought youd ever get it looking like this. He turned to Quane. “I was with him when he bought it; I ever tell you that? Popping up on his screen were real-time images from Area 51. He let out a lungful of air. What kind of honey do they make? Hit List I read it, closed it, then opened it again and started over. That doesnt happen very often. Lets make a pact, he said. Lets never mention the motorcycle again. Okay, it cant hurt to assume that. Through gritted teeth, he said,Check on Showalter. Get the recorder..