of Joe’s old ladder while raising it and propping it up against the eave. “Is this ladder going to collapse on me?” Ed asked while he climbed it.
“We’ll see,” Joe said, as Nedny’s big fleshy face and pipe appeared just above the rim of the gutter. Ed rose another rung so he could fold his arms on the roof and watch Joe more comfortably. He was close enough that Joe could have reached out and patted the top of Nedny’s watch cap with the spatula.
“Ah, the joys of being a homeowner, eh?” Ed said.
Joe nodded.
“Is it true this is the first house you’ve owned?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve got a lovely family. Two daughters, right? Sheridan and Lucy?”
“Yes.”
“I met your wife, Marybeth, a couple of weeks ago. She owns that business management company—MBP? I’ve heard good things about them.”
“Good.”
“She’s quite a lovely woman as well. I’ve met her mother, Missy. The apple didn’t fall far from that tree.”
“Yes, it did,” Joe said, wishing the ladder would collapse.
“I heard you used to live out on the ranch with her and Bud Longbrake. Why did you decide to move to town? That’s a pretty nice place out there.”
“Nosy neighbors,” Joe said.
Nedny forged on. “What are you? Forty?”
“Yup.”
“So you’ve always lived in state-owned houses, huh? Paid for by the state?”
Joe sighed and looked up. “I’m a game warden, Ed. The game and fish department provided housing.”
“I remember you used to live out on the Bighorn Road,” Nedny said. “Nice little place, if I remember. Phil Kiner lives there now. Since he’s the new game warden for the county, what do you do?”
Joe wondered how long Nedny had been waiting to ask these questions since they’d bought the home and moved in. Probably from the first day. But until now, Nedny hadn’t had the opportunity to corner Joe and ask.
“I still work for the department,” Joe said. “I fill in wherever they need me.”
“I heard,” Nedny said, raising his eyebrows man-to-man, “that you work directly for the governor now. Like you’re some kind of special agent or something.”
“At times,” Joe said.
“Interesting. Our governor is a fascinating man. What’s he like in person? Is he really crazy like some people say?”
Joe was immensely grateful when he heard the front door of his house slam shut and saw Marybeth come out into the front yard and look up. She was wearing her weekend sweats and her blond hair was tied back in a ponytail. She took in the scene: Ed Nedny up on the ladder next to Joe.
“Joe, you’ve got a call from dispatch,” she said. “They said it’s an emergency.”
“Tell them it’s your day off,” Nedny counseled. “Tell ’em you’ve got gutters to clean out and a fence to fix.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Ed?”
“We all would,” Nedny answered. “The whole block.”
“You’ll have to climb down so I can take that call,” Joe said. “I don’t think that ladder will hold both of us.”
Nedny sighed with frustration and started down. Joe followed.
“My spatula, Joe?” she asked, shaking her head at him.
“I told him I had a tool for that,” Ed called over his shoulder as he trudged toward his house.
“I’M NOT used to people so close that they can watch and comment on everything we do,” Joe said to Marybeth as he entered the house.
“Did you forget about my mother on the ranch?” she asked, smiling bitterly.
“Of course not,” Joe said, taking the phone from her, “but what’s that saying about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer?”
The house was larger than the state-owned home they’d lived in for six years, and nicer but with less character than the log home they’d temporarily occupied on the Longbrake Ranch for a year. Big kitchen, nice backyard, three bedrooms, partially finished basement with a home office, a two-car garage filled with Joe’s drift boat and snowmobile, and still-unpacked boxes stacked up to the rafters. It had been three months since they bought the house but they still weren’t fully moved in.
Ten-year-old Lucy was sprawled in a blanket on the living room floor watching Saturday morning cartoons. She had quickly mastered the intricacies of the remote control and the satellite television setup and reveled in living, for the first time, as she put it, “in civilization.” Sheridan was, Joe guessed, back in bed.
Marybeth looked on with concern as he said into the telephone, “Joe Pickett.”
The dispatcher in Cheyenne said, “Please hold for the governor’s office.”
