Page 61 of Battle Mountain

“So, Joe Pickett,” Haswell said, “what can I do you for?”

The man pointedly ignored Kany’s presence in the room, which substantiated her theory, Joe thought.

“We’re trying to locate an outfitter and his employee,” Joe said. “The outfitter is named Spike Rankin.”

“I know Rankin,” Haswell said. “He’s a hard case, but a good guy. He has a fine reputation around here. He seems pretty by the book to me, but you might know otherwise. What do you think he’s done wrong?”

“Nothing that we know of,” Joe said. “But he’s missing from his camp, along with his apprentice.”

Joe gave a quick briefing of their visit to Rankin’s camp, as well as the arrival of the North Carolina hunters.

When he was through, Haswell cocked his head and eyed Joe suspiciously.

Haswell said, “It was good of you two to suggest that thoseout-of-state hunters spend some time and money in our fair county. We appreciate that, and I appreciate the tax dollars.”

“You can thank Susan,” Joe said.

Haswell narrowed his eyes and leaned forward in his chair. “So are you telling me that two game wardens are spending their time looking for a licensed outfitter in my county who hasn’t done anything wrong? Is he a witness in an investigation or something?”

“Not really,” Joe said. He knew that his manner wasn’t placating Haswell, an experienced local cop who had obviously sniffed out Joe’s obfuscation.

Kany tried to save Joe by clearing her throat and saying, “We were wondering if your office has run across his vehicle anywhere. It’s a local gray 2018 Ram Power Wagon. It has extra clearance and knobby tires, and a platform for an ATV on top of the bed in back. Here, I’ve got the plate number…” She fished a notebook out of her pocket.

“I know the vehicle,” Haswell said. “And we know where it is. It was called in this morning.”

Both Joe and Kany looked up expectantly.

But instead of answering, Haswell looked hard at Joe. “I’m compadres with your sheriff in Twelve Sleep County, Jackson Bishop. He’s a good man. We went through the academy together, and we’re on the same page when it comes to law enforcement.”

Joe had no idea where this was going.

“Suppose I call my buddy Jackson,” Haswell said, “and tell him what you told me? Do you think he might be a little more forthcoming with what is going on here? Like why the local game warden from the Bighorns comes all the way down here out of hisdistrict to Warm Springs to visit an elk-hunting guide? Because something about that just doesn’t make sense to me.”

Joe sat back, caught. He said, “Spike Rankin’s employee happens to be Governor Rulon’s son-in-law. They’re both missing. Governor Rulon asked me to look into it because we go way back.”

Joe felt Kany’s eyes bore into the side of his head, and Haswell grinned.

“So now we know the rest of the story,” Haswell said. “Our governor doesn’t want folks to know that his son-in-law is a doofus who might be in trouble. Is that it?”

“Pretty much,” Joe said.

“Were you aware of this?” Haswell asked Kany.

“Not at all,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Well,that’sinteresting,” Haswell said, chinning toward Joe. “The governor doesn’t alert state troopers, or the local sheriff, or the local game warden. Instead he sends you like some kind of secret agent man. That kind of says to me that our highest elected official doesn’t have much confidence in us here in Carbon County. That almost seems like an insult.”

Joe didn’t respond.

“Don’t you think that sounds like an insult to us both, Susan?” Haswell said.

After a beat, Kany said, “Yes.”

“And Joe here didn’t tell you about all of this?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“My, my,” Haswell said, shaking his head and making atsk-tskgesture.

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