Kaiser turns to Walker and speaks with grim purpose. “A material witness in several major murder cases nearly died because somebody reached up and turned a plastic rod on a window blind. The person who opened those blinds was almost certainly working with the shooter.”

“How do you know that?” asks the deputy, who then points at Caitlin. “She was in there for two hours.”

Caitlin looks up in shock from beside Jordan Glass.

The harassed deputy sticks his chin out angrily. “How do we know she didn’t just reach up and open them blinds without even thinking about it?”

“I didn’t,” Caitlin insists.

“Agent Kaiser,” I cut in, “didn’t you tell me you were going to make sure Henry was covered? Were there any FBI agents in the hospital?”

Kaiser sighs with frustration. “We were shorthanded at the Jericho Hole. I thought Sheriff Dennis had two more men over here.”

Walker’s face is turning redder by the second.

“I’m not accusing anyone of negligence,” Kaiser goes on. “We’re here to find out what happened, not whose fault it was. But whoever opened those blinds almost certainly knows who the shooter is. It could have been a hospital employee, or it could have been a walk-in.”

He turns back to the deputy. “Your list shows five names in the past three hours, aside from the people with us here. One nurse is positive the blinds were closed shortly before Sherry left to go home. Caitlin says she didn’t open them, nor does she remember seeing anyone open them. But she was working on her computer while Henry slept, and she dozed some herself, so we have to assume that’s when the blinds were opened. We need to bring everybody on your list back down here, so you and Caitlin can verify who you remember, and see if you recall anyone else not in that group. Okay?”

The deputy nods sullenly.

Kaiser waves at one of his men, who takes the log and heads down to the central area of the one-floor hospital. Sheriff Dennis whispers to his deputy, who nods and walks down the hall toward the restroom.

Hiking up his gun belt, Walker leans close to Kaiser. “We screwed up, okay? But I went to school with Henry Sexton. I played peewee football with his little brother. And I just got off the phone with his mama, whose scream I won’t forget for the rest of my life. I appreciate your help on this case, but I’m telling you—in the nicest way possible—to ease the fuck up on my deputy. You hear?”

“I understand, Sheriff. I’ll go as easy as I can.” Kaiser turns and focuses on Caitlin. “Tell me about the shots. How many did you hear?”