side on a pillow, and his face was the color of mottled cream. His mouth was slightly open, and Joe could see the tip of Tibbs's dry, maroon tongue. His brilliant blue eyes, once piercing, were open, but filmed over and dull. Above the breast pocket of Tibbs's shirt was a pronounced dent and in the middle of the dent was a black hole.
A spider's web of blood had soaked through the fabric of his shirt and dried.
With his heart thumping, Joe cautiously lowered his weapon and stood next to Charlie Tibbs. Tibbs was a big man constructed of hard edges and sharp angles. Both of Tibbs's large hands were open beside his thighs, palms up. Joe held the back of his hand to Tibbs's mouth and nose: no breath. He touched his fingertips to Tibbs's neck: it was clammy, but not yet cold or stiff Charlie Tibbs had died within the hour.
Joe reached down and turned Tibbs over slightly The quilt beneath him was soaked through with dark blood from his back, where the bullet had exited. The exit wound was ragged and massive. The smell of blood in the room was overwhelming, and it reminded Joe of the stench of the badly hit or badly dressed big game carcasses he saw during hunting season. Joe thought it astounding that Tibbs had been able to ride back to his truck, unhitch the horse trailer, and drive all the way to the Finotta ranch to die.
What a lucky shot, joe thought.
'You shot my horse, you son-of-a-bitch,' Joe whispered. 'If you ever see her where you both are now, I hope she kicks the hell out of you.' Then to Stewie out in the hallway: 'He's here and he's dead!'
'Charlie Tibbs?'
'The same,' Joe said, sliding his revolver into his holster. Suddenly, Joe felt very weak and sick to his stomach. He stared at Tibbs's face, trying to find something in it that indicated thoughtfulness, or gentleness, or humility Something redeeming. But Joe could only see a face set by years of bitter resolve.
'Okay' Stewie said from the doorway after studying the scene, 'Charlie Tibbs is dead. But why is he here?'
Joe looked up. He had no idea, although one was forming.
***
JOE REMEMBERED PASSING under a telephone in the dark hallway It was an old-fashioned, wall-mounted rotary-dial telephone, probably installed there years before, for the use of ranch hands, who were no longer needed on Finotta's hobby ranch.
As he and Stewie had descended the mountain, Joe had practiced over and over the first words he would say to Marybeth. He would tell her how much he loved her, how much he missed her, how much he loved their girls. How he would never again approach a suspect's location without proper backup. Joe didn't even care if Stewie was standing next to him to overhear; his emotions were heartfelt and boiling within him.
He picked up the receiver and was about to dial when he realized there were voices on the line. It was a party line, presumably connected to the ranch house.
'Who is that?' someone asked. 'Did somebody just pick up a phone?'
'I didn't hear it,' another voice said.
'I heard a click,' another, deeper voice intoned.
'Don't worry, gentlemen.' Joe recognized this voice as belonging to Jim Finotta. It was louder and more clear than the others, due to Finotta's proximity 'I'm the only one here, so it's not on my end.
These lines are old.'
No doubt Finotta had long forgotten about the unused phone in the outbuilding. Stewie was now leaning against Joe, his face in Joe's face so they could both hear. Joe cupped his hand over the mouthpiece and listened. It was a conference call and there were at least six men on the line. There was a meeting going on, and Jim Finotta seemed to be presiding. One of the voices called Finotta 'chairman.'
'You know what this is?' Stewie hissed, his eyes bulging, 'You know what this is?'
Joe shot Stewie a cautionary glance and gripped the mouthpiece harder so they wouldn't be heard.
'This,' Stewie said through clenched teeth, 'is an emergency meeting of the Stockman's Trust!'
THE DISCUSSION WAS rushed at times, and participants talked over one another. The only voice Joe could clearly discern was Jim Finotta's, who was five hundred feet away in the ranch house.
What Joe heard was fascinating, disturbing, and disgusting. He wished he had his small pocket tape recorder with him so he could tape the conversation and use it later as evidence at the murder trial.
Finotta: 'He's dead in my bunkhouse right now I don't know what in the hell to do with him. Does anyone want him?'
Laughter
Gruff voice: 'What happened to John Coble? Did he say?'
Finotta: 'He said Coble turned tail and tried to inform Stewie Woods. Charlie caught him at the cabin and put him down. Coble's remains burned up in the cabin when Charlie torched it.'
Gruff voice: 'Thank God for that.'
Fast voice: 'I'm surprised at Coble. I thought he was more solid than that.'
Finotta: 'You just never know what a guy is going to do under pressure. But we have another matter at hand.'
Texas twang: 'Soooo, you have a body and you don't know what to do with it. Do you have any hogs, Jim? They'll eat just about anything.'
Finotta: 'No, this is a cattle ranch.'
New voice: 'Jim, you've got to come clean with us about this game warden deal. It really disturbs me that a game warden somehow got involved. He had absolutely nothing to do with our effort.'
