Page 42 of Battle Mountain

Nate raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

“Your name has been associated with some nasty business that occurred last winter at a cabin near Pinedale,” she said. “After that, you seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth.”

Nate didn’t respond.

“I’m very sorry about what happened to your wife,” she said to him. “It was such an unnecessary tragedy.”

She said nothing more about the discovery of the three burned bodies found in the Sublette County rental cabin. Nate was grateful for that.

Instead, she turned to Geronimo. “I hope you have good homeowners insurance so you can get your house rebuilt. It’s really a challenge to find good contractors in the winter these days. They’re all building houses for newcomers.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Geronimo said.

“I also understand that the feds are after you both,” she said. “I’ve been avoiding calls from a Special Agent Rick Orr for months now. I get the impression he’s a bulldog, and he might be operating on his own.”

Nate and Geronimo refrained from exchanging a confirming glance when they heard the name.

“You know a lot more about us than we know about you,” Nate said.

“That’s because she got access to the Bal-Chatri forums on our site,” Geronimo said to Nate. “She’s read all about us.”

Tuck-Smith agreed with that and said, “That’s why I’m good at my job. I do my homework. I was frankly a little surprised how chatty you falconers are with each other.”

“Who gave you the password to get in?” Geronimo asked.

Instead of answering, Tuck-Smith reached up and mimed azipping my mouth closedgesture.

“Should we trust you?” Nate asked.

“That’s up to you. It’s your call. But I would point out that you haven’t retained me as your counsel, and as an attorney I’m an officer of the court. I’d also point out that you’ve come in here and admitted your involvement in a conspiracy to commit homicide, yet I haven’t called 911 to report you. So take that for what it’s worth.”

With that, she looked at her wristwatch to conspicuously remind them that they had limited time.

“Look,” she said. “I’m a pretty well-known person in certain circles that aren’t looked kindly upon by our national media or the permanent entrenched bureaucracy in Washington. I fight them at every opportunity, and I usually win. They absolutely hate that; I know I’m in their crosshairs.

“I’ve been called a rogue lawyer and a conspiracy theorist. I really don’t give a crap. My job is to serve my clients and to seek the truth no matter where that leads me.”

To Nate, she said, “That’s all you need to know about me. I believe you have some experience in being targeted by the feds yourself.”

“That’s correct,” Nate said. “Is Axel Soledad your client?”

“Ah,” she said. “Now we’re getting down to brass tacks. No, Axel is not my client.”

“Then who are you working for?” Geronimo asked. “Do you work for someone who is after Axel Soledad? Is that why you know about us? And why you visited with C. W. Reese?”

Tuck-Smith glared at Geronimo for a long beat, then said, “What I’m doing as far as Axel Soledad is pro bono. All of the time I’ve spent trying to locate him has been on my own dime.

“I’ll tell you this,” she said, her eyes flashing for the first time. “Axel Soledad is a danger to our country. He has to be stopped.”

Geronimo was temporarily speechless.

“That’s what we’re going to do,” Nate said. “But with us, it’s personal.”

“Which is fine by me,” she said. “More power to you. I just hope you know what you’re up against.”

“Oh, we do,” Nate responded.

“Do you know what he’s up to?” Geronimo asked her. “You make it sound big.”

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