Page 41 of Battle Mountain

“You’re pretty quick to distance yourself from your boss,” he said. “I hope you never apply for a job at my company.”

As Geronimo returned from the bathroom and placed the keyon her desk, the light on the phone set went dead. Geronimo gestured toward it and Delaney hit the intercom speaker button and said, “Cheryl, there are two gentlemen in the lobby who want to see you.”

“Do they have an appointment?”

“No,” she said while giving Geronimo a withering glance. “They’re walk-ins.”

Geronimo grinned and winked at Nate.

“And they’re here concerning what?” the attorney asked. “I don’t have time for donations today.” She sounded annoyed and suspicious at the same time.

“Concerning what?” Delaney echoed to Geronimo.

“Start with C. W. Reese and Axel Soledad,” Geronimo said. “We want to discuss your relationship with them.”

Silence. Then, after a long pause, the attorney said, “What are your names?”

“Geronimo Jones and Nate Romanowski,” Geronimo said. “We were hoping to get a few minutes of your time.”

Another long pause. Then: “I have fifteen minutes.”

—

Even seated behindher very wide walnut desk, Cheryl Tuck-Smith looked out of proportion to her surroundings, Nate thought. She didn’t rise when they entered her office, but she looked very tall even while seated. She had short blond hair, a long thin face, pearls over a cashmere turtleneck, broad shoulders, and very long fingers. Her nails were unpainted. Her demeanor was wary, and all business.

“Sit,” she said to them.

Geronimo and Nate slid into hardback chairs across from her. Nate studied the items on her walls: a law degree from the University of Wyoming, a hundred-year-old map of the state, and photos of her in uniform with Army Rangers and a women’s Big Ten college basketball team, as well as photos with state and national politicians, and people he vaguely recognized as fringe personalities from the world of right-wing podcasting and talk radio. Liv would have had a better idea who they were than he did because she kept abreast of popular culture in general. In all of the photos, Tuck-Smith was extremely easy to identify. She towered above everyone else, except for one photo of her with the starting lineup of the NBA champion Denver Nuggets from 2023.

There was also a mounted length of faded barn wood with words burned into the surface:This Is the Government Our Founders Warned Us About. Bullet holes marked theO’s.

Tuck-Smith’s desk was empty except for a phone set identical to the one on Delaney’s desk, a coffee cup filled with pens and markers, a banker’s lamp with a green shade, and a stainless steel .357 Magnum revolver within easy reach, with the muzzle pointed away from her and toward them.

“That’s probably not necessary,” Geronimo said.

“I’ll decide that,” she responded.

“I’m Geronimo Jones and this is my associate—” Geronimo started to introduce them again, but she cut him off.

“I heard,” she said. Then: “You two look rough-and-tumble. And you better get right to the reason you’re here before my next appointment. I make my living by billing for my time, and youtwo are free riders who showed up without calling ahead or retaining my services. So get to it. I’ll make a decision whether or not to charge you by the hour depending on what our discussion involves. And, gentlemen, my rate is not cheap.”

Nate appreciated her no-nonsense manner, although it flustered Geronimo for a few seconds. He liked to ease into conversations, and he was a master at charming people and putting them at ease. Nate was the opposite of that.

“We’re here because we understand that you’re looking for Axel Soledad and contacting people he’s been in contact with,” Geronimo said. “We got your name from Mr. C. W. Reese of Gardiner, Montana.”

Nate watched her closely for her reaction. There wasn’t one, except for a barely perceptible twitch of her fingertips on her right hand on top of the desk. She seemed to recognize it as well and she went completely still. Nate attributed her stoicism to trained courtroom technique—to never let the jury, opposing counsel, or the judge know what she was thinking.

“About us,” Geronimo said. “We’re just a couple of master falconers who happen to be small businessmen as well. Axel is of interest to us because he’s attacked our families in two different states. Mr. Reese led us to believe that you’re tracking his movements and building some kind of case against Soledad. We hope you’ll share some of that information with us.”

Tuck-Smith frowned while she drummed her fingers on the desk. Better to keep them busy, Nate thought.

“Now, why would I do that?” she asked.

“Because we’re the good guys,” Geronimo said.

“We’re going to kill him,” Nate said.

Geronimo turned to Nate and winced at the statement. Tuck-Smith’s reaction was notable. She didn’t recoil. Instead, she displayed a cold smile. She turned to Nate and said, “You, I’m familiar with.”

---