put our past aside and find the shooter.”
Robey, who had been ready for an explosion and had placed his hands on the edge of the table so he could push away quickly and restrain Joe, looked as perplexed to Joe as Joe felt.
Pope took a deep breath and extended his hand. “I need you on this one. I don’t know what it is, but you seem to have a knack for getting in the middle of trouble like this. Plus, you know the area and the people because this is your old district. We need you here on the ground.”
Joe shook Pope’s hand, which was clammy and stiff, his long, thin fingers like a package of refrigerated wieners.
The governor said, “That’s what I love to see. A little love and cooperation among my employees.”
“HOW TRAMPLED is the crime scene?” Rulon asked.
“Trampled,” Pope said. “We’ve all been all over it, not to mention Urman’s nephew and his friends.”
“What about the immediate area? Did you determine where the shot was fired?”
“Not yet,” Pope said. “We ordered the forensics team to stay at the immediate crime scene. I was thinking we’d go up there tomorrow when it’s light and see what we can find.”
Rulon made a face. “Do you think it’s possible the shooter is still up there somewhere?”
“Possible,” Pope said, “but unlikely. Why would he hang around?”
“Maybe he’s waiting for you to all go home,” Rulon said. “Look, I have an idea. Before I was governor, I prosecuted a case on the reservation where this poor old woman was raped and murdered in her mountain cabin. There was no known motive and no obvious suspects, but my assistant hired this guy named Buck Lothar to go to the crime scene. You ever heard of him? Buck Lothar is a master tracker; it says it right on his card. He’s some kind of mercenary who contracts with law enforcement and the military all over the world to hunt people down. He can look at the ground and tell you how many people walked across it, what they look like, and how big they are. Scary guy, but damned good. Anyway, we hired Lothar to go to the res, and within three days he’d tracked down the loser who did the crime and got away on foot. Lothar produced enough evidence—plaster footprints, fiber from the bad guy’s clothes he found caught in a thornbush, a cigarette butt tossed aside we could pull DNA from. We put the bad guy away. I’m thinking we should hire Buck Lothar. I think he lives somewhere in Utah when he’s not in Bosnia or the jungles of the Philippines or the Iraqi desert tracking down insurgents. If he’s home, I’ll send him up there as soon as we can. I’ll fly him up on the state plane.”
Pope nodded his head the whole time the governor was speaking, warming to the idea.
“Form a ready-response team,” Rulon said. “I want you all on it except for Kiner. Work with Lothar, give him whatever he needs and wants. Maybe he can find our shooter.”
“That’s a great idea,” Pope said. “We can use some help.”
“And if he can’t find anything,” Rulon said, “we’ll keep him on retainer and you keep your team together until the next hunter goes down.”
“The next hunter?” Robey said.
“I’m sure there will be another,” Rulon said sourly, “that is, if there are any hunters left in Wyoming after Klamath Moore’s press conference tomorrow.”
This time, Pope moaned.
“Lothar’s expensive,” Rulon said, “but you can afford his fee.”
“This is coming out of my budget?” Pope said, his voice rising.
“Yes, it is. The legislature is auditing my discretionary fund and I don’t want this on it. Think of it as an investment in the future health and welfare of your agency.”
“But—”
“No buts. Now, I’ve got to be going, gentlemen. My chief of staff is signaling me. We’ve got some Chinese delegation in the next room wanting to buy wheat or oil or something. I’ve got to go. So get this done and send Klamath Moore back home as soon as you can.”
Rulon
Robey, who had been ready for an explosion and had placed his hands on the edge of the table so he could push away quickly and restrain Joe, looked as perplexed to Joe as Joe felt.
Pope took a deep breath and extended his hand. “I need you on this one. I don’t know what it is, but you seem to have a knack for getting in the middle of trouble like this. Plus, you know the area and the people because this is your old district. We need you here on the ground.”
Joe shook Pope’s hand, which was clammy and stiff, his long, thin fingers like a package of refrigerated wieners.
The governor said, “That’s what I love to see. A little love and cooperation among my employees.”
“HOW TRAMPLED is the crime scene?” Rulon asked.
“Trampled,” Pope said. “We’ve all been all over it, not to mention Urman’s nephew and his friends.”
“What about the immediate area? Did you determine where the shot was fired?”
“Not yet,” Pope said. “We ordered the forensics team to stay at the immediate crime scene. I was thinking we’d go up there tomorrow when it’s light and see what we can find.”
Rulon made a face. “Do you think it’s possible the shooter is still up there somewhere?”
“Possible,” Pope said, “but unlikely. Why would he hang around?”
“Maybe he’s waiting for you to all go home,” Rulon said. “Look, I have an idea. Before I was governor, I prosecuted a case on the reservation where this poor old woman was raped and murdered in her mountain cabin. There was no known motive and no obvious suspects, but my assistant hired this guy named Buck Lothar to go to the crime scene. You ever heard of him? Buck Lothar is a master tracker; it says it right on his card. He’s some kind of mercenary who contracts with law enforcement and the military all over the world to hunt people down. He can look at the ground and tell you how many people walked across it, what they look like, and how big they are. Scary guy, but damned good. Anyway, we hired Lothar to go to the res, and within three days he’d tracked down the loser who did the crime and got away on foot. Lothar produced enough evidence—plaster footprints, fiber from the bad guy’s clothes he found caught in a thornbush, a cigarette butt tossed aside we could pull DNA from. We put the bad guy away. I’m thinking we should hire Buck Lothar. I think he lives somewhere in Utah when he’s not in Bosnia or the jungles of the Philippines or the Iraqi desert tracking down insurgents. If he’s home, I’ll send him up there as soon as we can. I’ll fly him up on the state plane.”
Pope nodded his head the whole time the governor was speaking, warming to the idea.
“Form a ready-response team,” Rulon said. “I want you all on it except for Kiner. Work with Lothar, give him whatever he needs and wants. Maybe he can find our shooter.”
“That’s a great idea,” Pope said. “We can use some help.”
“And if he can’t find anything,” Rulon said, “we’ll keep him on retainer and you keep your team together until the next hunter goes down.”
“The next hunter?” Robey said.
“I’m sure there will be another,” Rulon said sourly, “that is, if there are any hunters left in Wyoming after Klamath Moore’s press conference tomorrow.”
This time, Pope moaned.
“Lothar’s expensive,” Rulon said, “but you can afford his fee.”
“This is coming out of my budget?” Pope said, his voice rising.
“Yes, it is. The legislature is auditing my discretionary fund and I don’t want this on it. Think of it as an investment in the future health and welfare of your agency.”
“But—”
“No buts. Now, I’ve got to be going, gentlemen. My chief of staff is signaling me. We’ve got some Chinese delegation in the next room wanting to buy wheat or oil or something. I’ve got to go. So get this done and send Klamath Moore back home as soon as you can.”
Rulon
Similar Books
