Page 63 of Battle Mountain

“This isn’t the first time he’s gotten me into trouble,” Joe said.

With that, Kany climbed into her pickup and eased out of the lot toward her state-owned home and corrals. Her expression as she drove away was a mixture of anger and humiliation. He felt for her.

—

Joe paused onthe wooden front porch of the Wolf and placed a call to the governor’s office. He was transferred to Ann Byrnes.

“Joe Pickett here,” he said.

“And…?”

“We haven’t found Rankin or Mark, but we’ve got a lead in the case. We just found out where they were last seen and we’re headed up there tonight to try to track them down.”

Byrnes said, “The governor will be very happy to hear that. I’ll tell him as soon as he gets off the phone with the feds.”

“There’s something he won’t be happy to hear,” Joe said.

“Oh, and what is that?” Her tone was suddenly icy.

“The cat’s out of the bag,” Joe said. “I’ve bought us a few hours, but I thought you should be prepared for the fallout.”

—

As Joe trudgedup the stairs of the Hotel Wolf with his overnight duffel slung over his shoulder, he speed-dialed Marybeth. The bartender–slash–hotel clerk had assigned him the same room he’d occupied before, number nine, because it was one of the few in their inventory covered by the notoriously low state employee lodging rate.

“Sorry it took me so long to call you back,” he said as he fitted in the key and pushed the door open. The room was as he remembered it: small, quaint, and clean.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I was a little worked up earlier, but now I’m home and Sheridan just showed up.”

“Tell her hello.”

Joe listened as Marybeth covered the mouthpiece and turned her head away and conveyed the message to their oldest daughter. “Same here,” he heard Sheridan say.

“Tell her I met someone who knows her,” Joe said.

Marybeth said, “Hold on—I’ll put us all on speakerphone so I don’t need to be the middleman.”

After Marybeth switched to speaker and lowered the phone to the countertop, Joe said: “You go first.”

He listened with growing concern as Marybeth briefed him on the visit from Special Agent Rick Orr and Sheriff Jackson Bishop.

“Rick Orr?” Joe said. “I’ve never heard of him.”

Joe’s experience with various agents from the FBI varied widely over the years. He’d liked and worked well with Chuck Coon, who had supervised the Wyoming office out of Cheyenne. And he’d clashed, sometimes seriously, with others recently who’d beensent out from Washington, D.C., or who’d showed up on their own with their own personal agendas.

The three of them discussed Orr’s visit and Bishop’s interest in Kestrel’s circumstances. Sheridan said that Bishop “creeped her out” and that her friends thought the sheriff had a God complex. She also said she had a good impression of Susan Kany from college.

As they spoke, Joe moved to the window and pulled the lace curtain back. The room afforded a bird’s-eye view of First Street. As he did, Kany’s pickup appeared below with a two-horse trailer attached. It idled in front of the hotel because there wasn’t enough diagonal parking on the street to accommodate the length of it.

“In fact, she’s here,” Joe said. “I’ll call you later tonight, Marybeth. I hope to have good news and tell you that I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“Are you going to Battle Mountain, then?” Marybeth asked.

“That’s where we’ll start. That’s where Rankin’s truck was called in. Sheridan, I’ll give Susan your best regards.”

“Good,” said Sheridan. “And please try not to do or say anything to embarrass me.”

Joe sighed: “You’re too late for that.”

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