started to push away from his desk.
“Governor?” Joe said.
“Yes, Joe.”
“Sir, I have no doubt that what you say about Buck Lothar is true. I’ve heard about him. But there’s someone else who is as good or better, and who knows this country.”
Rulon quickly said, “Joe, we can’t go there.”
“Nate Romanowski is in federal custody,” Joe said. “You could work a deal to get him out. We could use him.”
Pope blanched, and Robey said, “Joe . . .”
“Not an option,” Rulon said. “Forget it.”
“We might need him,” Joe said.
“If Lothar can’t get it done,” Rulon said, “we’ll talk. But for now the other option is off the table. Good night, gentlemen.”
With that, the screen went black. Before it did, Joe saw Stella’s hand with dark-red-painted nails gesture to the governor to follow her. Follow her where? Joe thought.
IN THE HALLWAY, Joe asked Pope if he could take the files home with him to read that night.
“I’d like a copy too,” Robey said.
Reluctantly, Pope handed them over. “I’ll wait here while you make copies,” he said. “But I don’t need to tell you how important it is we don’t say anything about the fact that we may have a serial killer going after hunters. We aren’t sure yet it’s the case, and that kind of speculation would kill us as an agency.”
“Got it,” Joe said, “although with Klamath Moore’s press conference tomorrow, it won’t be a secret anymore.”
Pope winced as if he had a painful tooth.
JOE LEANED against the wall while Robey ran the pages through the machine and the light from the copier strobed the walls.
Kiner had left the meeting with his head down and refused to acknowledge Joe’s good-bye.
“What did Kiner do to piss off the governor?” Robey asked.
“He supported the governor’s opponent in the last election,” Joe said.
“Rulon holds a grudge,” Robey said, nodding. “Did you come out for Rulon at the time?”
“No. But I didn’t make a point of it, like Phil did.”
“Interesting,” Robey said. “And what in the hell is going on with Pope? He’s had a complete change of heart when it comes to you. I know for a fact for the last two years he’s had it in for you, even calling my office to see if he could get any dirt on you.”
Joe shrugged.
“Maybe he really does need you this time.”
“Maybe.”
“But you’re not sure.”
“There’s always something going on with that guy. He’s the best and meanest bureaucrat I’ve ever been around. He should give seminars.”
Robey smiled.
Joe fingered the poker chip in the plastic bag. “I don’t remember anyone saying they were playing poker. Besides, Frank Urman’s clothes were up on the hill in a pile. They were cut off him before he was hung and skinned. I don’t see how the poker chip could have just been there, do you?”
Robey shrugged. “Pope shut you down pretty fast.”
“I wonder why,” Joe said.
“Are you thinking the killer left it as a calling card?”
“Maybe,” Joe said.
Robey handed Joe his set of files. “Call me when you’ve read these and let’s see if we can figure anything out.”
“I might be up late,” Joe said. “I’m having trouble getting the image of Frank Urman’s body out of my head.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be up,” Robey said.
OUT OF HABIT, Joe started home in the direction of Bighorn Road before turning around, remembering he now lived in town.
6
SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD SHERIDAN PICKETT was at her desk in her upstairs room under the pretense of doing homework, which she’d actually completed an hour before. The door was shut, meaning she didn’t want to be disturbed. Which, of course, meant nothing to her younger sister, Lucy, who opened it and stuck her head in. “I need to use the computer.”
Sheridan quickly hid what she was doing. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Unfortunately, Lucy could see the computer screen from the doorway and the three IM
“Governor?” Joe said.
“Yes, Joe.”
“Sir, I have no doubt that what you say about Buck Lothar is true. I’ve heard about him. But there’s someone else who is as good or better, and who knows this country.”
Rulon quickly said, “Joe, we can’t go there.”
“Nate Romanowski is in federal custody,” Joe said. “You could work a deal to get him out. We could use him.”
Pope blanched, and Robey said, “Joe . . .”
“Not an option,” Rulon said. “Forget it.”
“We might need him,” Joe said.
“If Lothar can’t get it done,” Rulon said, “we’ll talk. But for now the other option is off the table. Good night, gentlemen.”
With that, the screen went black. Before it did, Joe saw Stella’s hand with dark-red-painted nails gesture to the governor to follow her. Follow her where? Joe thought.
IN THE HALLWAY, Joe asked Pope if he could take the files home with him to read that night.
“I’d like a copy too,” Robey said.
Reluctantly, Pope handed them over. “I’ll wait here while you make copies,” he said. “But I don’t need to tell you how important it is we don’t say anything about the fact that we may have a serial killer going after hunters. We aren’t sure yet it’s the case, and that kind of speculation would kill us as an agency.”
“Got it,” Joe said, “although with Klamath Moore’s press conference tomorrow, it won’t be a secret anymore.”
Pope winced as if he had a painful tooth.
JOE LEANED against the wall while Robey ran the pages through the machine and the light from the copier strobed the walls.
Kiner had left the meeting with his head down and refused to acknowledge Joe’s good-bye.
“What did Kiner do to piss off the governor?” Robey asked.
“He supported the governor’s opponent in the last election,” Joe said.
“Rulon holds a grudge,” Robey said, nodding. “Did you come out for Rulon at the time?”
“No. But I didn’t make a point of it, like Phil did.”
“Interesting,” Robey said. “And what in the hell is going on with Pope? He’s had a complete change of heart when it comes to you. I know for a fact for the last two years he’s had it in for you, even calling my office to see if he could get any dirt on you.”
Joe shrugged.
“Maybe he really does need you this time.”
“Maybe.”
“But you’re not sure.”
“There’s always something going on with that guy. He’s the best and meanest bureaucrat I’ve ever been around. He should give seminars.”
Robey smiled.
Joe fingered the poker chip in the plastic bag. “I don’t remember anyone saying they were playing poker. Besides, Frank Urman’s clothes were up on the hill in a pile. They were cut off him before he was hung and skinned. I don’t see how the poker chip could have just been there, do you?”
Robey shrugged. “Pope shut you down pretty fast.”
“I wonder why,” Joe said.
“Are you thinking the killer left it as a calling card?”
“Maybe,” Joe said.
Robey handed Joe his set of files. “Call me when you’ve read these and let’s see if we can figure anything out.”
“I might be up late,” Joe said. “I’m having trouble getting the image of Frank Urman’s body out of my head.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be up,” Robey said.
OUT OF HABIT, Joe started home in the direction of Bighorn Road before turning around, remembering he now lived in town.
6
SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD SHERIDAN PICKETT was at her desk in her upstairs room under the pretense of doing homework, which she’d actually completed an hour before. The door was shut, meaning she didn’t want to be disturbed. Which, of course, meant nothing to her younger sister, Lucy, who opened it and stuck her head in. “I need to use the computer.”
Sheridan quickly hid what she was doing. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Unfortunately, Lucy could see the computer screen from the doorway and the three IM
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