Page 87 of Battle Mountain

“In my office at the library,” she said. “It seemed safer than going home. There are too many people here for someone to try to take Kestrel again.”

“Smart move. Tell me about Sheridan.”

After she was through, Joe said, “Bishop is in the back of her car? Where is she taking him?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t know. I just talked with her.”

“I’m not sure what to say. Did Bishop say why he was trying to take Kestrel?”

“It’s about Axel Soledad, Joe. Axel ordered him to do it.”

“What?Why?”

“According to Sheridan, Axel wanted to distract Nate with this and make him come here to try to rescue his daughter. I don’t know why, and neither does Sheridan.”

“This iscrazy,” Joe said. “I’m glad you’re okay and Kestrel is okay, though. I need to talk with Sheridan—”

And with that, the satellite phone went dead.

Joe held it away from his face and shook it, hoping somehow that it would work again. But it didn’t.

Although he knew it was probably pointless, he pulled out his cell phone and powered it on. Maybe, he hoped, he was high enough in the mountains or at a lucky spot with reception. There was no signal.

Then he turned on the handheld radio Kany had given him.

“Can anyone out there read me?” he said as he keyed the mic. He repeated the message several times and waited, to no avail.

It was obvious to him that Marybeth was leading up to something when she’d called. He couldn’t even guess what it might be, other than “Come home as soon as you can.”

He sat on Henry and weighed his options. Given what had happened that morning, he knew he had to get back to Saddlestring as soon as possible. Marybeth needed him, and he needed her. Bishop had obviously gone off the rails, which confirmed the worst of the rumors they’d heard about him. And Sheridan was in a very precarious situation at the moment. She needed his help as well, and maybe a good criminal lawyer.

What else had Soledad put into motion that might affect his family and Kestrel? Were there others in Saddlestring who were allied with Bishop and who might try to finish the job? Did Nate have any clue what had just happened, or why?

Joe looked back over his shoulder at the two-track through the trees. By his estimation, he was about halfway to Summit. Maybe more. If he returned to the road and retreated down the mountain without clearing Summit, had he done his duty to the governor? What about Susan Kany’s efforts to mount a large-scale search and rescue operation?

If he could get to a place with cell phone reception, he could call Marybeth and brief Kany. Joe wished he was more familiar with the terrain. The kind of isolation he often craved—and sought out—was anathema to him now. In his own district, Joe knew of dozens of remote locations where, often inexplicably, he could catch a cell phone signal.

The ghost town of Summit, he recalled, was at nearly nine thousand feet in elevation. There might be an outcropping or promontory nearby where he could get a signal if he kept going. He knew for sure there wasn’t anything like that behind him.

So he pulled Henry’s head out of the grass and reined it over back to the road. Reluctantly, Henry began to move again.

Joe looked at his watch. He’d give it a few more hours of travel and, he hoped, he’d reach Summit.

“Let’s move it along, Henry,” he urged the mule.

—

Earlier, Nate andGeronimo sat across from Orr in a booth at a small diner on the bank of the North Platte River. All three had ordered coffee as well as biscuits and gravy with hash browns.

After the waitress left with their order, Orr said, “You boys came out of that motel room with a lot of hardware. What is it you’re planning to do?”

“Are we under arrest?” Nate asked in response.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Orr said, turning to Nate. “But I would say you have some things to answer for, starting with the discovery of three bodies at a burned-out cabin in Sublette County a while back. What do you know about that?”

“Who were they?” Nate asked.

Orr’s eyes narrowed. “They were identified as anti-government political activists. Two were from Denver, one from Portland. They were associated with a man named Axel Soledad.”

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