Under the Dome

'Uh-huh.' Rusty entered the lounge. On the wall, the TV was tuned to CNN. The sound was muted, but there was a still photo of James Rennie, Sr., looming behind the talking head: black-and-white, not flattering. One of Big Jim's fingers was raised, and so was his upper lip. Not in a smile, but in a remarkably canine sneer. The super beneath read WAS DOME TOWN DRUG HAVEN? The picture switched to a Jim Rennie used car ad, the annoying one that always ended with one of the salespeople (never Big Jim himself) screaming 'You'll be WHEELIN, because Big Jim's DEALINF

Big Jim gestured to it and smiled sadly. 'You see what Barbara's friends on the outside are doing to me? Well, what's the surprise? When Christ came to redeem mankind, they made him carry His own cross to Calvary Hill, where He died in blood and dust.'

Rusty reflected, and not for the first time, what a strange drug Valium was. He didn't know if there really was Veritas in vino, but there was plenty of it in Valium. When you gave it to people—especially by IV—you often heard exactly what they thought of themselves.

Rusty pulled up a chair and readied the stethoscope for action. 'Lift your shirt.' When Big Jim put down his cell phone to do it, Rusty slipped it into his breast pocket. 'I'll just take this, shall I? I'll leave it at the lobby desk. That's an okay area for cell phones. The chairs aren't as well padded as these, but they're still not bad.'

He expected Big Jim to protest, maybe explode, but he didn't so much as peep, only exposed a bulging Buddha-belly and large soft manbreasts above it. Rusty bent forward and had a listen. It was far better than he'd expected. He would have been happy with a hundred and ten beats a minute plus moderate premature ventriculation. Instead, Big Jim's pump was loping along at ninety, with no misbeats at all.

'I'm feeling a lot better,' Big Jim said. 'It was stress. I've been under terrible stress. I'm going to take another hour or two to rest right here—do you realize you can see all of downtown from this window, pal?—and I'm going to visit with Junior one more time. After that I'll just check myself out and—'

'It isn't just stress. You're overweight and out of shape.'

Big Jim bared his upper teeth in that bogus smile. 'I've been running a business and a town, pal—both in the black, by the way. That leaves little time for treadmills and StairMasters and such.'

'You presented with PAT two years ago, Rennie.That s paroxysmal atrial tachycardia.'

'I know what it is. I went to WebMD and it said healthy people often experience—'

'Ron Haskell told you in no uncertain terms to get your weight under control, to get the arrhythmia under control with medication, and if medication wasn't effective, to explore surgical options to correct the underlying problem.'

Big Jim had begun to look like an unhappy child imprisoned in a highchair. 'God told me not to! God said no pacemaker! And God was right! Duke Perkins had a pacemaker, and look what happened to him!'

'Not to mention his widow,' Rusty said softly. 'Bad luck for her, too. She must have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.'

Big Jim regarded him, little pig eyes calculating. Then he looked up at the ceiling. 'Lights are on again, aren't they? I got you your propane, like you asked. Some people don't have much gratitude. Of course a man in my position gets used to that.'

'We'll be out again by tomorrow night.'

Big Jim shook his head.'By tomorrow night you'll have enough LP to keep this place running until Christmas if it's necessary. It's my promise to you for having such a wonderful bedside manner and being such an all-around good fellow'

'I do have trouble being grateful when people return what was mine to begin with. I'm funny that way.'

'Oh, so now you're equating yourself with the hospital?' Big Jim snorted.

'Why not? You just equated yourself with Christ. Let's return to your medical situation, shall we?'

Big Jim flapped his large, blunt-fingered hands disgustedly.

'Valium isn't a cure. If you walk out of here, you could be firing misbeats again by five p.m. Or just vaporlock completely. The bright side is that you could be meeting your savior before it gets dark here in town.'

'And what would you recommend?' Rennie spoke calmly. He had regained his composure.

'I could give you something that: would probably take care of the problem, at least short-term. It's a drug.'

'What drug?'

'But there's a price.'

'I knew it,' Big Jim said softly. 'I knew you were on Barbara's side the day you came to my office with your give me this and give me that.'

The only thing Rusty had asked for was propane, but he ignored that. 'How did you know Barbara had a side then? The murders hadn't been discovered, so how did you know he had a side?'