his best to look serious. “Mister Keller is going to have to come in with the gun and have a little chat with me tomorrow.”
We both nodded. I looked out the windshield at the silent rig and the assembled vehicles idling in the frigid air. “Quite an operation you’ve got going here.”
He followed my gaze. “Not today.”
“Just out of curiosity, what does an outfit like this produce in a day?”
He thought and pulled at the tuft again; I was starting to see a pattern. “Well, we’re on tap with three pods, the biggest on the tail end of the Big George coal seam, 220 heads.”
“High production?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Millions. I looked back out the windshield and let it sink in. “How long have you fellas been in operation here?”
“A little less than a year.”
That was a lot of methane being pulled out of the ground of Four Brothers Ranch. From my quick glance at the mineral rights at the courthouse, I figured the Barojas were making more than a lot of money but, if Mari had died of natural causes, there was no need to search for a motive. I had piqued my own curiosity and was going to have to go back to the courthouse, but it was creeping up on five o’clock. There was always tomorrow. I looked back at the man sitting in my passenger seat. “ ’Bout time for you guys to pack it in, isn’t it?”
He glanced past me to the truck alongside. “They will. I’ll stick aroun’ to see if the weather changes.” Before he climbed out, I reminded him that I wanted to talk to Mr. Keller tomorrow. Mr. Aliff said he’d make sure that the young man would be there first thing, and I had no doubts that he would. Mr. Aliff did not strike me as a trifling individual, bullet holes notwithstanding.
I did some quick figures as I carefully picked my way across the ridge to the county road and back toward the highway. I was tired, but I needed to talk to someone about all of this before I went and talked to Lucian. I figured I’d check in at the office, gas up, stop by the house to check for snowdrifts, and go see Henry Standing Bear.
When I got to the office it was close to six, but I recognized every vehicle, including one that took me a minute. I parked the Bullet and took a deep breath to prepare myself for what was inside.
When I opened the office door, I became instantly aware of a kangaroo court in full session. It was in the air, like the snowflakes. Ruby was seated at her desk, and Vic was leaning against it with her arms folded; Saizarbitoria was standing a little away-he probably didn’t want to get blood on the borrowed uniform. I noticed they were all holding plastic wine glasses, except for Sancho, and there was an open bottle of merlot on Ruby’s desk.
I closed the door behind me and turned to look at all of them. There were a number of Post-its on the doorjamb of my office, but I figured I’d get to those. I was about to say something witty when I caught a pair of very nice legs out of the corner of my eye belonging to someone sitting in one of my visitors’ chairs with a coat and a large dog head on her lap. I leaned forward around the coat rack and met a vivacious set of deep-sea blues, “Hello.”
“Hello.”
“Slow day at the safe-deposit boxes?” I leaned a little farther and took her all in. Dog didn’t move, and I didn’t blame him.
Her hand paused on his head, and she looked down; she was also holding one of the plastic wine glasses. “What’s your dog’s name?”
I felt just a little ashamed. “He doesn’t really have one. I’ve been calling him Dog.” I looked back at her. “I’ve only had him for a couple of weeks now.”
She did a slow nod. “I hope you don’t mind. I thought I’d stop by and deliver a gift of gratitude for last night.” She raised the glass in a slight toast and then used it to gesture toward the pack. “They said it was okay.”
I looked at the assembly. “I bet they did.” I made a great show of pulling out my pocket watch. “Whose got the watch tonight?” Both Ruby and Vic finally looked at something other than Maggie Watson. I looked over at Saizarbitoria, too. “You pulling double duty?”
He shrugged. “I don’t mind. I used to do it in Rawlins all the time.”
I turned to Ruby. “You give him the beeper?”
She didn’t look at me. “I gave him the beeper.”
I needed a quick neutralizer to change the point of interest, so I walked over and poured myself a glass. “Great.” I smiled and turned to Vic. “How’d he do?”
She held the synthetic glass at her temple. “He’s really polite.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
She took a sip and glanced over to Ms. Watson. “We all choose where to expend our energies.”
I was pretty sure that that arched eyebrow could pierce steel, but Maggie Watson saved herself and me. “I was wondering if you were free for dinner?”
All their eyes swiveled back to her.
“Dinner?”
All their eyes swiveled back to me.
“Yes.”
I was feeling a little dizzy with all the attention. “I just have a bit of work to do, and then I’ll swing by and pick you up.” I looked down at the exposed and very lovely legs. “Dress warm, okay?”
“Okay.” It was easier on everybody’s eyes since we were now standing beside each other.
I helped her with her coat and opened the door as she turned and looked at the assembly. “Nice meeting everyone. Bye.” I closed the door as she stepped into the darkness and onto the stoop, and I turned back to face the afternoon of the long knives.
“Her car was stuck.”
“Really?”
I took a sip of my wine. “Really. Look, don’t think that you’re so big that I can’t put you over my knee and spank your little Italian butt.”
She looked up at me with a carnivorous smile. “Watch it, big man, it might work with the locals, but I’ve been to the rodeo.” She walked past me toward her office. “Anyway, I’m not into that stuff, and it sounds like you better save it for tonight.”
At least she hadn’t said fuck fourteen times. Maybe she really was on her best behavior. I turned back to Ruby. “Charlie Nurburn?”
She turned back to her computer, and I noticed there wasn’t anything on it except a blank blue screen. I also noticed that her coat was in her lap, even if she still had her half-glass of wine. “Go read your Post-its.”
I leaned over and kissed the top of her head, sighed, and trudged off to my office. I glanced back at Saizarbitoria. “You got anything to say?”
“No, sir.”
I guess that’s when I hired him. He sat in the chair opposite my desk as I tossed the Post-its on the blotter and carefully placed the mostly full goblet on top of them. People always took precedence over Post-its, so I asked him what was on his mind.
“I’m having a good time.” The silence hung in the room for a moment.
“Good.” I wondered if he’d feel the same way standing in front of the IGA accosting the citizenry. “You can have wine some other time.”
He laughed, and I looked at the bright young man sitting in front of me and felt like Monsieur de Treville with the young Gascon in attendance. It was hard not to with the Vandyke and the mischievous glint. I wondered if, like D’Artagnan, he was going to be an inordinate pain. He seemed to be waiting for more, so I reached into my coat pocket and produced the bookmark I had taken from Mari Baroja’s room. “You’ve got quite a facility with languages. Maybe you can help me out with something.” I flipped the piece of paper on the desk, careful to avoid the wine. He leaned over and turned the scrap so that he could read it. He was smiling. “What?”
“How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That I’m Basque?”
I kept looking at him and, in a flash, it all fit. “Just a lucky guess.”
“I’m French Basque.” I contemplated that one as he looked back at the piece of paper and the scribbled
