off his parka and hung it on a peg.
“It doesn’t look like it’s letting up much outside,” Reed said to Joe.
“Nope.”
“Road okay?”
“Hasn’t seen a plow, if that’s what you’re asking,” Joe said.
“I’m not surprised,” Reed said. “I don’t think the county road and bridge guys were ready for an October blizzard. No one was. The heavy snow knocked down some tree limbs south of town and took out the phone lines, too. They’re just now getting them fixed. The phone company didn’t have crews ready. You’d think they’d all just moved to Wyoming or something.”
Joe nodded, relieved by the explanation for not being able to reach his wife.
“So you found a dead deer in a cabin instead of a missing Indian woman?” Reed asked. When Joe looked up, Reed patted his handheld radio, from which he’d obviously been monitoring the transmissions.
“Yup.”
“What a waste of time,” Reed said, chuckling bitterly.
“That’s how it goes these days,” Joe said in the same tone. Then: “Have you heard anything more about that situation in Jackson with the rollover?”
“Not for a while,” Reed said. “I think we had a window there in the storm where we could hear them. But it’s closed now. I haven’t heard anything but static in that direction.”
Joe nodded, then said, “Be right back.”
He walked down the hallway and cracked open Lucy’s door. She was in bed. Her blond hair shimmered in the bar of light from the open door, and she turned over with her back to him and moaned in her sleep. Joe eased the door shut and went across the hall to April’s room. It was locked. He rapped on it with a knuckle.
“What?” she asked, her voice shot through with outrage.
“You okay?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
“No reason,” Joe said, turning back down the hall. Behind him, he could hear her voice trail off. Something about being grounded without a cell phone, practically a prisoner in her own home…
Situation normal, he said to himself.
He returned to the front room. Tube yawned and padded down the hall on his heels.
Joe stopped inside the threshold and squinted at Reed.
“Mike, why are you here?”
Reed chuckled, lowered his coffee cup, and said, “Your wife called and told me what happened at the library when the lines went down. I thought I might just come up here and check on her and kind of hang out until you got home. Just to make sure this Bob White guy-or whoever he is-didn’t decide to come by for another visit.”
“Thank you,” Joe said. He was touched.
“Don’t mention it,” Reed said. “To be honest, it feels kind of nice to get out of the office for a while. McLanahan is going crazy. He’s lashing out at everyone like Hitler in his bunker during the last days of Berlin. I don’t mind getting away from that.”
Marybeth peeked out at Joe from the kitchen. She held her cell phone to her ear and gestured with a “just a minute” finger in the air.
“Did you locate the guy who spooked Marybeth?” Joe asked Reed.
The deputy shook his head. “He was long gone, unfortunately. We’re circulating his description and the make of the vehicle she saw in the parking lot, though. If we get an identification I’ll let you know right away. This town isn’t big enough to hide in very long.”
“I know,” Joe said. “But it’s a hell of a big county.”
“Joe,” Reed said, “let us handle it if we find him. I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to be there. I’ve seen that look in your eye before.”
“Hmph.”
“Do you have any idea who it was?” Reed asked, shooting Joe his sidelong cop stare.
“Not for sure,” Joe said.
“Marybeth told me it might be a guy named”-he glanced at his notebook-“John Nemecek. We ran the name and came up with absolutely nothing. No priors, no record of any kind. We don’t even know where he’s from.”
“That sounds about right,” Joe said.
Reed said, “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Joe thought about it for a few seconds and came clean. “Nate told me this John Nemecek might be after him. Apparently, they served together in Special Forces. I don’t know much more than that, but it’s possible Nemecek had something to do with all that’s been going on around here.”
Reed didn’t blink, and continued to deadeye Joe. “So you’re all but admitting Romanowski offed the Kellys and Ron Connelly.”
Joe said, “I don’t want to go there. But this Nemecek might be the key to everything.”
“How long have you suspected this?”
“From the start. But I’ve got no proof at all. I’ve never seen the guy, and I don’t know anything more about him than what Nate told me before he flew the coop. I’m not about to take my suspicions to McLanahan or Dulcie until I’ve got some kind of solid proof.”
“Still, you should have said something before now,” Reed said. “We might have found this guy sooner.”
Joe shook his head. “I don’t have any evidence, Mike. I’ve only got a suspicion. And I don’t want McLanahan to botch it by overplaying his hand.”
Reed put his coffee down and looked away, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I understand,” he said. “I could see the sheriff announcing this guy’s name in the press as our suspect so it looks like we’ve made some progress in the investigation, and drive this Nemecek underground. And if we didn’t find him right away, McLanahan would hang you out to dry and say you’ve been withholding evidence. He desperately needs a scapegoat.”
“I’ve played that role before,” Joe said.
“I know.”
Joe turned, walked past Marybeth in the kitchen, and found a six-pack of Coors in the refrigerator. He twisted the cap off a bottle.
“Want one?” he asked Reed when he returned.
“I want one so bad I could die,” Reed said. “But I’ll have to pass.”
“Sorry,” Joe said, recalling Reed’s problems with alcohol a few years before. “I forgot.”
“So what’s next?” Reed asked, gesturing with both hands to include the whole of it all.
“I might go over their heads,” Joe said.
“You mean McLanahan and Dulcie Schalk?”
“Yup.”
“To who? The governor?”
Joe shook his head. “He can’t help me. But there’s a guy named Chuck Coon in the FBI in Cheyenne. I’ve worked with him a few times. He’s by the book all the way, but he might be interested in this, and he’ll have better resources to find out something about Nemecek-or rule him out.”
“McLanahan’s not going to like that,” Reed said, obviously savoring the prospect.
“Too bad,” Joe said. “When this guy-whether he’s Nemecek or Bob White or both-approached my wife, he made it personal. I’m going after him with both barrels.”
“And you think the Feds might know about him?”
Joe took a long drink and lowered the bottle. “Feds can find out about other Feds easier than we can.”
Reed sat back. “‘Other Feds’? Nemecek is a government guy?”
“Used to be,” Joe said. “I don’t know his status right now. He used to be in Special Forces with Nate.”
“And you think the FBI can find something on him? You might be giving them too much credit,” Reed said.
“Maybe.”
Reed nodded toward the kitchen and lowered his voice. “You’re married to a tough lady, you know. My wife would have fallen apart if that guy showed up at her office.”
“She’s tough, all right,” Joe said. “Do you know what she’s doing in there right now?”
