Текст книги "Out of Range"

Автор книги: C. J. Box

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

THIRTY-SEVEN

Randy Pope arrived at the photography shop as the sheriff and his deputy were hiding their vehicles on adjacent streets. Pi and Birdy stood around nervously near the counter, waiting for Don Ennis to arrive. Joe and Trey Crump were behind the curtain in the darkroom, and Trey motioned to Pope to join them so he couldn't be seen if Ennis drove by and looked through the front window.

"The director doesn't like it," Pope said, as Joe slid the curtain closed behind him. "He's ordering you to pull the plug on this before we all wind up in court for entrapment."

Joe was thankful for the darkness because the look he gave Pope could have resulted in a charge of insubordination.

"We're too far along for that," Trey said in defense. "We can't stop anything now. Ennis is on his way."

"Didn't you hear me?" Pope asked. "I said the director doesn't want us involved with this. He thinks the governor may have already heard from Ennis about Joe assaulting him. It looks like a vendetta by the agency against one of the governor's biggest supporters."

"It's myvendetta," Joe said, "against a guy who caused the death of a game warden as well as his own wife."

Pope turned on Joe, prodding him in the chest. "You shouldn't even be here. You're officially suspended for the shooting. You're so far over the line I can't even see you. And you can forget about taking over this district."

"Touch me again with that finger," Joe said, "and I'll break it off."

Trey shouldered his way between them, and Joe stepped back, trying to calm down. Despite the darkness of the room, he saw orange spangles flash in his vision and knew he was seconds away from lashing out at Pope.

"Randy," Trey said in a calming voice, "Ennis all but admitted he killed her. He's coming here to try to buy the pictures so he can't be implicated. Everything is on tape, and even Tassell thinks it's clean and legal."

"But there aren't any pictures," Pope said. "The poor guy probably thinks he's being framed by those nuts out there, and he doesn't know what to do."

Beyond the curtain, Joe heard Tassell, his deputy, and the owner of Radio Shack enter the shop and assemble behind the closed office door. The stage was now set for Ennis.

"You weren't here," Trey said. "They never told Ennis they had pictures of him murdering his wife. Ennis just assumed they did, and he's coming here. Once he's in the shop, he'll say something that incriminates him. Then the sheriff will arrest him. If he doesn't incriminate himself, he walks away."

"I don't like it," Pope said. "And the director orderedus to back off."

"He can order whatever he likes," Trey said with an edge Joe had rarely heard. "He's out in two months, and we'll have a new governor. Maybe we'll even get someone who cares more about arresting a murderer than kissing up to his contributors."

Joe heard Pope spin away and start for the curtain to leave.

"Stay here," Trey said, and Joe could see the faint outline of Trey reaching up and grabbing the assistant director by the arm. Pope stopped.

"When this is over," Pope hissed, "and Don Ennis walks out of here, I'm going to suspend your asses."

"I'm already suspended," Joe whispered. "Are you going to double suspend me?"

Pope started to talk when a bell tinkled out in the shop and someone pushed the door open with enough force that it banged against the wall.

Joe leaned toward the curtain and cocked his head so he could hear what was going on. He hoped the video camera on the shelf was working, and that Tassell was watching on the monitor.

Joe heard the shuffling of several sets of feet, thinking Don had brought support. The bell tinkled again as the door shut, and there was the sound of the lock being thrown.

"You're Pi Stevenson?" It was Ennis.

"Yes, I am." She didn't sound as nervous as Joe felt.

"What was your name again?"

"Birdy Richards."

"What the hell kind of name is 'Birdy'? Jesus, you people."

"Don, let's just get what we came for." Joe recognized the voice of Pete Illoway.

Ennis: "Right. First, have any copies been made?"

Birdy: "No. No copies."

Ennis: "Is anything still in the cameras on the river?"

Birdy: "No. They've all been downloaded to the computer."

Ennis: "Then I'll pay you for the computer. Shane, grab that thing and we can go."

Shane Suhn, Joe recalled, Ennis's chief of staff.

Suhn: "That's just the monitor, Don. That won't help us. You don't know anything about computers."

Ennis: "Then take whatever the fuck it is that has the pictures on it, Shane."

Birdy: "Hold it. I never said you could have my computer. I need to make a living."

Pi: "Damn right. And what are you going to pay us? We aren't just going to give you Birdy's equipment and you go home. Maybe we should just call the sheriff after all."

Ennis: "You shut the fuck up, lady. You're playing in the big leagues, and you don't even know it."

Illoway: "Don …"

Pi: "You don't have any intention of paying us, do you? You're going to do something to us so we don't talk."

Ennis: "Tell me what you saw in the photos."

Pi: "Not until you tell us what you're planning to do."

Ennis: "Shane, remember what we discussed on the drive over?"

Suhn: "You want me to do it here? Now? If somebody looked in the window they could see us."

Ennis: "I don't give a shit. She won't shut up."

Illoway: "Look, how much do you want for the computer? Give us a number."

Ennis: "You're spending my money, Illoway."

Illoway: "Give us a number."

Suhn: "Maybe we ought to see the pictures first. Maybe there's nothing on them. Maybe it's just a bunch of us having a fun time on the river, and somebody falls in. That won't prove anything."

There was a long silence. Joe was tempted to inch the curtain back to see what was taking place.

Illoway: "Shane's right, Don. The photos may not prove a thing."

Ennis: "Fire up that computer and let's have a look at them."

Birdy said, "It's on," and Joe could feel the terror in his voice.

When would Tassell decide he had heard enough, Joe wondered, and come out? How far would Tassell let Pi and Birdy go, searching for photos that didn't exist on the computer?

Ennis: "Where are the photos?"

Birdy: "Give me a minute. The computer was sleeping and it'll take a second to boot up."

Ennis: "What's that?"

Birdy: "It's asking for my password."

Ennis: "Hurry up, goddamnit."

Then Pi spoke. Her voice was strong, challenging. "What are you guys thinking?" she asked. "Are you thinking that you can't see when Don here cuts the straps of her life vest? Or that you can't see it when he shoves her out of the boat just as you enter the whitewater? Or that you can't see when he hits her with his oar to keep her from crawling back in the boat?"

Ennis: "I never hit her with my fucking oar!"

Now,Joe thought. Tassell needs to come out now.

Pi: "Maybe it was Pete Illoway, the eating consultant, who was whacking at her with his oar. I'm not sure."

Illoway: "We're fucked, Don."

Suhn: "Okay, you two, step away from the counter."

"There's no need for gunshere," Pi said frantically, shouting out the word guns."We can work something out. Really, we can."

Ennis: "It's too fucking late for that, girlie."

Joe was about to rip the curtain aside and hurl himself into the shop when he heard the office door open and Tassell say, "HANDS ON THE COUNTER! All of you! NOW!"

Joe didn't have a weapon, so he stepped aside so Trey could push through the curtain with his Beretta drawn. Joe saw Ennis look up, his face pinched and white. Illoway was looking at the door. Shane Suhn had a semiautomatic pistol pointed at Pi.

"Drop that," Tassell hollered at Suhn, who quickly lowered the weapon and dropped it with a clunk on the floor.

"I thought you were never going to come out," Pi said angrily.

"Keep your hands in view on top of the counter," Tassell said.

"Including us?" Birdy asked.

"Step away from them," Tassell said, and Birdy and Pi scrambled out of the way.

"You set us up, you bastard," Ennis said finally, glaring at Tassell. Ennis had two black eyes and white tape across his nose. Joe had done more damage the night before than he realized. When Ennis saw Joe, the developer's eyes narrowed further.

"You," was all he said.

Tassell announced that all three were under arrest for the murder of Stella Ennis.

"Don't forget Will Jensen," Trey said.

"That comes later," Tassell said.

Illoway, Joe thought, looked like he was about to cry. Instead, he screwed up his face, glanced for a moment at Ennis, and said, "Don did it."

Ennis turned on Illoway. "You fuck-"

"We didn't even know he planned to throw her out of the boat until he did it," Illoway said. "Maybe Shane did, but I didn't."

Suhn acted like he'd been slapped. "I didn't know about Stella," he said. "But I can tell you all you want to know about the game warden."

Joe felt a release inside, and exchanged glances with Trey.

Ennis was livid. "Jesus, you guys. Just shut up! Where's your loyalty?"

"My loyalty is to the Good Meat Movement," Illoway said. "That's more important than one developer."

"I'll get us out of this," Ennis said. "Just shut up!"

"Get yourself out of it," Suhn said. "You don't pay me enough to go to prison for you."

Ennis was red and trembling with rage. He fixed on Pi, who didn't even try to contain her glee. "Those fucking pictures," he said.

"What pictures?" Pi grinned.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Joe waited for Mary to conclude a telephone conversation while he stood at the front counter holding a box with his possessions in it. When she hung up and looked up at him, he extended his hand.

"Thank you for everything, Mary," he said. "You made me feel welcome here."

She blushed as she briefly shook his hand, then looked away.

"I just got off the phone with Susan Jensen," Joe said. "I was a little surprised by her reaction."

"How much did you tell her?" Mary asked.

Joe thought about his answer. "I told her that Don Ennis had been drugging her husband, which led to his death. And I told her I scattered Will's ashes on Two Ocean Pass. She didn't seem as relieved as I thought she'd be."

"Nothing about Stella?" she asked. Joe wondered about Mary's exact meaning for a second, then decided Mary didn't know about Will's last seconds.

Joe shook his head. "That didn't seem necessary. Stella didn't enter the picture until after Susan had left with the boys anyway."

Mary arched her eyebrows in a way that told Joe he was wrong about that. But she didn't pursue it.

"You probably heard that Don Ennis hired Marcus Hand as his defense lawyer," Mary said. Hand was a flamboyant attorney who lived in Jackson and was nationally famous for freeing guilty clients.

"I heard."

"Hand's already claiming it was entrapment," Mary said. "And that Pete Illoway and Shane Suhn are lying to keep themselves out of jail. If they don't find Stella's body soon, he'll claim Ennis didn't even murder her."

Joe nodded. He could only imagine how the recorded words and images from the studio would be twisted and reinterpreted for a jury. He tried not to think of what Stella's body would look like when it was finally found. The image made him shiver. The condition of her body would likely be beyond any possibility of providing evidence that she had been injured before drowning, and Hand would no doubt make an issue of that.

Tassell's men had found a receiver in Shane Suhn's office at Beargrass Village that was tuned to the transmitter in Will's truck, as well as cassette tapes of Jensen's radio communications. They also brought back the developer's telephone log, which Joe got a look at. The most interesting thing on the log was a call to Ennis immediately following Pi and Birdy's call. It was from Randy Pope, urging Ennis to contact him immediately. Luckily, Ennis had already left for Wildwater Photography and hadn't been warned off.

"Don Ennis will be out on the street within a year, is my prediction," Mary said.

Joe shrugged in a "what can you do?" gesture.

"But it looks like there won't be any Beargrass Village," she said, her expression of relief revealing, for the first time, what she thought of the project. "Not with Pete Illoway pulling out of it. Without his blessing, it would be just another million-dollar housing development, and Jackson has enough of those."

Joe wasn't sure what to say next. He picked up his box. "I rented a car until they replace my pickup," he said. "The county attorney will need Will's truck for evidence at the trial."

She looked up. "Will you be coming back?"

"Do you mean for the trial, or for good?"

"For good."

He looked away. "I don't know where I'll be," he said, thinking of Pope's threats, knowing his career probably hinged on who was elected governor. "I'm still suspended."

"I hope you come back," Mary said, a softness around her eyes Joe found touching. "I think you're a good man."

Not as good as you think,Joe thought but didn't say.

"Right now, I need to get home," he said, and carried his box out the door.

It felt strange to be in a compact rental car instead of a high-profile pickup, he thought, as the National Elk Refuge passed by his window. It felt like he was sitting on the pavement as he drove, and when he looked in his rearview mirror he saw the grilles and headlights of vehicles behind him, not the drivers.

While he drove, Joe reviewed what had taken place in Jackson. He had been instrumental in bringing down a multimillionaire and stopping a Good Meat development, and in the process had partially avenged a game warden's reputation. He had also killed a man he had no ill feelings toward. Now, Joe was returning to Saddlestring under suspension, with a cloud of guilt still hovering over him in regard to his feelings for Stella, in a compact car with a motor already struggling with the ascent into the mountains. But he couldn't wait to get home. It felt like he'd been gone a year.

The sight of the gleaming white Tetons in his rearview mirror did nothing for him. Neither did the thought of Don Ennis skirting the charges due to the machinations of a celebrity lawyer.

When Joe first met Sheriff Tassell following Will Jensen's funeral, the sheriff had said, "There are people here who don't think they need to play by the rules." Later, Smoke Van Horn had called it all a big game. Both, Joe thought, were right.

He pictured Marybeth, Sheridan, and Lucy. How little he had thought of them recently, how his life and struggles had been his alone. How he had almost strayed. He pulled over to let the little engine cool down and put his head in his hands.

Joe couldn't remember ever having felt so small.

THIRTY-NINE

It was mid-afternoon when Joe turned off Bighorn Road. The sight of his home filled him with joy and trepidation, Lucy's bike in the yard, Toby nickering to him from the corral, dried leaves in the grass that needed raking. Unfortunately, his mother-in-law's SUV was in the driveway next to Marybeth's van.

He climbed out of the rental car and stretched, not used to being cramped up like that for hours. Maxine didn't recognize him until he got out-she was looking for his pickup-and came bounding outside through the screen door.

"Dad!" Lucy yelled from her window. It was one of the best things he had ever heard. Marybeth appeared smiling at the front door, looking blond, fit, and beautiful. They embraced just inside the front gate, Lucy now running out to see him.

"Joe," Marybeth said, "why didn't you call ahead?"

"My cell phone burned up in the fire," he said.

"Your face," she said, running her palms over his features, "it's bruised. You need to tell me everything that's happened."

Joe looked up, saw Missy in the doorway. He thought her smile was not genuine. "Later," he said.

"We have steaks in the freezer I can thaw," Marybeth said. "I want to cook you a big dinner." Joe smiled.

Missy stayed for dinner, much to Joe's chagrin. She told him about Italy, about the food and the style of clothes they wore there, about the service in first class. Joe wanted to burst, there was so much to tell Marybeth. And so much he wanted to hear.

Sheridan sat sullenly at the table, and Joe felt the tension between her and Marybeth, even if neither said anything.

At one point, while Missy was describing Venice, Sheridan looked up and said, "I'm glad you're home, Dad."

"I am too," he said.

She made an "it's been rough" eye roll, then bent her head back to her plate. Joe saw that Marybeth had watched the exchange carefully, and he wondered what was to come later, after Missy left.

There was something about Marybeth, he thought. She seemed extremely pleased to see him, but over-conciliatory and a little guarded. If she wasn't angry with him, he decided, it was something else. Something had come between them, and he couldn't guess what. His suspension, the fact that he had killed a man? His arrest? All of the above? Or maybe, he thought, it had been their distance. In fifteen years of marriage, they had never been apart for so long. Again, the cloud of guilt that was Stella washed over him. He decided not to tell her. Now was not the time. He didn't know if there ever would be a time. And he wouldn't ask her what was wrong, what it was that made her seem different, defensive, even guilty. He would eat steak and keep his mouth shut.

After they cleared the dinner dishes off the table, Joe went down the hallway toward the bathroom and glanced into Sheridan's room. It was different, and it took him a moment to figure out what had changed.

"Where are your falconry posters?" he asked her. Over the past three years, Sheridan had filled a wall with depictions of falcons and hawks of North America, as well as National Geographicwildlife shots of falcons in flight and going for a kill. They had been replaced by photos of rodeo cowboys and rock musicians cut out of magazines. He looked at her bookshelf and saw that the books on falconry that Nate had given her were gone.

Sheridan looked up from her homework. "I guess I've got new interests."

"That came about pretty quickly," he said.

"Dad," Sheridan said, "Nate is gone. Didn't Mom tell you that?"

"No."

"I guess I'm not all that surprised," Sheridan said.

Joe continued down the hallway, puzzled.

Marybeth and Missy were having coffee at the table when Joe came into the dining room.

"What's this about Nate?" he asked, interrupting Missy, who was talking about Venetian glass.

The look on Marybeth's face struck Joe. There was some fear in it, as well as caution. "He's been gone for three days," she said.

"That's not so unusual," Joe said, thinking of Nate's long absences.

"This time, his phone is disconnected," Marybeth said.

Joe still didn't understand the gravity behind Marybeth's meaning.

"Joe," she said, "he seems to have vanished the same night Sheriff Barnum disappeared."

"And good riddance to that man," Missy chimed in. Now, Joe got it.

It was late in the evening when he returned to the house. Missy was finally gone, and Marybeth had fallen asleep on the couch with the television on. Joe hung up his jacket in the mudroom and gently woke her.

"Did you find him?" she asked, rubbing her eyes and stretching. Stretching provocatively, Joe thought.

He shook his head. "The bison's gone," Joe said. "His mews is empty, and the house is locked down tight. His Jeep is gone too."

"Joe, do you think-"

"No," he said, sitting down beside her. "He's somewhere. But it sure seems strange that he wouldn't let you know he was going since he agreed to watch over things here."

Something passed over her face that he couldn't read, something he wasn't sure he wanted to find out more about.

They sat in silence for a moment, and she said, "I'm so glad you're home."

He nodded. "Me too."

"What are we going to do, Joe?" she asked.

"That's a big question. You mean with my job?"

"That," she said, and didn't finish her thought.

"It depends on who gets elected governor," Joe said. "Trey thinks a lot depends on the election, and who is appointed director of the agency."

"I've heard Randy Pope's name mentioned."

Joe sighed. "Me too."

She seemed to want to tell him something, he thought, but she remained silent.

They opened a bottle of wine left over from Missy's wedding and took it to bed with them. They made love voraciously the first time, tenderly the second. What struck him was how different she felt at the outset, and familiar she became.

He watched her wash her face at the sink beneath the mirror, and studied her as she climbed back into bed with him.

"Don't ever leave for so long again, Joe," she said, snuggling up to him.

"I won't," he said. Then: "We've got to work on some things, don't we?"

He felt her tense up, then gradually relax. "Yes, we do."

The next week, Joe said, "Remember when you told me about that fawn in the yard?" Marybeth was next to him on the couch, and he reached over and brushed her hair behind her ear.

"Yes."

"You said Nate picked up the body and took it away."

She nodded.

"To that sulfuric mineral springs he showed me, right?"

"Yes."

"I went there today," Joe said. "I had a hell of a time getting there in that stupid little car, but I got close enough I could walk in."

Her eyes grew wide as she listened.

"I saw the remains of the fawn," he said. "Only part of the skull was left, and a few thigh bones. The rest will dissolve within a few weeks. But those weren't the only bones in the spring."

"Oh, no," she said, covering her mouth with her hand.

"The bodies of two men were in there too," he said. "Most of their flesh had been eaten away, but I could tell they were men by the size. There were two skulls, each with big holes in the forehead."

She brought up her other hand and peered at him over her fingertips.

"And I found this near the spring," Joe said, fishing in his breast pocket. He handed it to her. It was a pen, the gold nearly eaten off. But the words TO SHERIFF BARNUM FOR 28 YEARS OF SVC could still be seen on the barrel.

Marybeth looked at Joe hard. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to report it," Joe said, fully aware of the implications of that. "But I'm going to do it anonymously."

Three days later, after receiving the call from Trey Crump telling him that the shooting of Smoke had been investigated and Joe was cleared, he finally went into his home office. Joe had been consciously avoiding it since glancing at his desk the first day home and confirming his fear about mounds of paperwork. Now, he sat in his chair, looked at the pile of envelopes and parcels, and didn't know where to begin. He sorted through the mail, putting it roughly into piles relating to the agency, letters from hunters and fishers, and general mail. There was one small envelope he didn't know how to classify. It was addressed to J. Pickett and had no return address. The postage mark on it said LAGUARDIA AIRPORT – NEW YORK CITY. It was postmarked two days before. Nate?he thought.

He slit open the envelope, pulled out a single card. It read:

Good work, my hero. I'm glad I'm such a good swimmer.

While I'm pretty certain I'd at last found what I've been looking for, you are home now. And since I'd never dream of interfering, at least not uninvited, my search must continue, though at least now I have a solid reference.

I respect family very much. I bet you didn't know that.

Someday, though, I may change my mind. And you might change yours.

It was signed with that single, familiar "S."