“I don’t know. Gas lines, recession, Jimmy Carter.”
Nate smiled coldly. “But what was going on here, on the land around us?” Joe thought, and he felt another glimmer of recognition. “Oil and gas development gone wild,” he said. “It was the last big energy boom.” “Right,” Nate said. “At least until today. It was a little like what we’re seeing now, wouldn’t you say?”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Joe confessed.
“Of course not. You’ve been thinking like a cop. You need to think bigger, look at everything fresh.”
“There are a lot of roughnecks here,” Joe said. “They come in from all over the country to work the CBM wells and lay the pipe. The last time there were this many people around was the last time this area had a boom.”
Nate said, “Right. I bet that makes you wonder if any of them were here before, doesn’t it? Or maybe—and I already know what you’ll think of this angle—somebody or something gets mad whenever we start drilling into the ground.”
Joe moaned. “That’s too screwy, Nate.”
“It’s fresh thinking, is what it is,” Nate countered. Joe was silent for a moment. “Anything else?”
Nate solemnly shook his head. “I’m worried about the bear. I had a dream about a bear the other night.”
“What?”
“In my dream, the bear was sent here for a reason. He has a mission,” Nate said, narrowing his eyes and whispering conspiratorially.
Wincing, Joe looked away. What was this? First Sheridan had ominous dreams, and now Nate. Was it something in the air? Had the two of them discussed this?
“So what are you saying, Nate?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s just that I have a feeling that the bear plays a central role somehow. Like I said, I dream about this bear.”
Joe said nothing. Nate simply thought differently than anyone Joe had ever met. To Nate, anything was possible.
“One other thing,” Nate said. “Have you considered the possibility that the two human murders have nothing to do with the cattle and animal mutilations?”
“Actually, yes I have,” Joe said. “Have you pursued it?” Nate asked.
“Barnum and Portenson are in charge of the murders.” “And you trust them?”
Joe drained his mug and stood up. His head was spinning.
As he walked out to his pickup, Nate followed. “I’ve got a special connection with that bear because of the dreams. I would like to meet the bear, get into his head,” Nate said. “Will you call me if there are any more sightings?”
Joe said that he would. He didn’t even pretend to understand what Nate was talking about.
“Start fresh, is my advice,” Nate said as Joe climbed into his truck. “Fuck Barnum and Portenson. They’re cops. They either want an easy explanation or they want the whole thing to just go away.”
Joe started the engine and Nate leaned into the pickup, filling the open driver’s-side window. “Call me if you need some help. Backup, or whatever.”
“The last time I did that you cut off a guy’s ear and handed it to me,”
Joe said.
Nate was right about one thing, Joe decided. Although a couple of the things he threw out seemed unlikely—a bear on a mission, for exam-ple—what Nate had said about thinking differently made some sense.
Joe plucked his cell phone off of the dashboard and speed-dialed Robey Hersig’s office. Hersig was in. “Robey, Joe.”
“Hey, Joe.” Hersig sounded tired. “Anything of note from the task force?”
There was a long sigh. “Your notes from your interview with that Garrett guy have been quite a source of amusement, as you might have guessed.”
Joe thought about telling Hersig about the e-mail from Deena, and decided against it for the moment. He hadn’t decided how he should reply and he needed to reply, to keep her talking to him. Although he hoped she’d cool it with the digital photos of herself.
“Anything in regard to Tuff or the other guy?” Joe asked.
“Nothing of significance,” Hersig said. “I know Barnum and Portenson have been interviewing people who knew them, that sort of thing. Standard procedure. But if either of them have anything, they haven’t told me yet. The investigation is stone cold, and although I hate to say it, we’re just sitting around waiting for another corpse, or a lucky break. But there’s nothing so far. That’s why I haven’t called a new meeting.”
“Robey,” Joe said, “given the situation I want to widen my part of the investigation.”
“You mean investigate the murders?” Hersig sounded hesitant. “Yup.”
“That’ll piss off Barnum, for sure.” “I can live with that.”
Hersig chuckled uncomfortably. “I’m not sure I can authorize that, Joe.” “You don’t have to. I’m independent. I’m a game warden; they have no authority over what I do or don’t do.”
“Aw, Joe . . .” Then: “What’s your angle?”
“I’m not sure I have one. But I can’t see how it could hurt to look at the murders from another perspective.
