Danny lay a short distance away, scanning the road through a pair of binoculars. Marco had found a place to park his old truck on a gravel turnout where it would not draw attention from the road. They had approached only far enough to establish what was happening, and Grim had spent the first forty minutes resisting the urge to do more. He did not trust the urge. He had learned at painful cost that rage was an excellent reason to begin a mistake.
"Man by the road is wearing a county uniform," Danny whispered. "He's been there since we arrived." Grim took the binoculars and watched the deputy talk through the open window of a dark sedan. "Do you recognize him?"
Danny asked. "I've seen that cruiser here before," Grim said. "More than once. I don't know whether he came to keep the peace or keep Clay out of trouble, but that difference matters."
Marco unfolded a local road map and pointed at a dry wash that curved behind the trailer property. He knew the terrain from helping a rancher repair fencing in the same area. "It doesn't take us through the gate," he said. "It gets us near enough to see the back without making ourselves the whole story."
Grim listened, nodded, and reminded him that getting Sarah to a hospital mattered more than confronting Clay. "If she can walk, we leave," he said. "If she can't, we get medical help. We don't turn this into a war because our pride wants one."
Danny glanced at him. Grim had not always spoken that way. Ten years earlier, on another wet night, he might have chosen a harder answer simply because it was available. Age had not made him gentle, but regret had taught him to recognize the difference between a problem and the temptation to make himself the center of it. The girl in the diner and the woman in the trailer were not an opportunity to settle old scores. They were people who needed to make it to morning.
They approached through the wash, keeping the trailer in view until they could hear voices. Inside, Clay Mercer shouted at somebody who did not answer. A lamp moved across a window, then went dark, then returned as a broad shadow crossed the wall. Grim heard a dull impact and felt his hand close involuntarily around the flashlight he carried. Danny looked at him, and Grim made himself breathe before moving.
The door at the back of the trailer opened suddenly. A woman stood in the narrow rectangle of light, one hand braced against the jamb as though standing required calculation. She had dark hair pulled into a loose knot and wore a sweater too thin for the temperature. Grim could see an injury around one eye even at that distance. She stood there perhaps two seconds before a man's voice from inside ordered her back.
It was enough to confirm that Sarah was alive, and it was enough to end any thought that they could simply wait for the morning. Grim moved toward the door and spoke her name when he was close enough that only she would hear. Sarah's head turned, and her expression went from surprise to fear.