Below Zero

Coon grunted in the dark.

“I think this was a righteous shoot,” Portenson said. “I think we did everything by the book. Why that son of a bitch started firing at us, I’ll never know. What the hell was wrong with him? Did he have a death wish or something?”

From the tailgate of Joe’s pickup, Cyndi Mote said, “Bo was paranoid. But you didn’t need to kill him for that.”

Joe said, “I’ll testify to what I saw. You guys handled everything the best you could. You had no reason to believe it wasn’t Stenko. And Skelton did shoot first.”

Portenson looked at Joe as if he’d forgotten he was there. The FBI agent sized him up, waiting for another shoe to drop. It didn’t.

“Your action was justified,” Joe said.

“I appreciate you saying you’d be willing to tell them what you saw and heard.”

Joe said, “Yup.”

“Because I know if you wanted to, you could hang me out to dry.”

Joe said, “I could and maybe I should. But I saw what I saw.” He put his hand on Sheridan’s shoulder. “We saw what we saw.”

Portenson looked almost embarrassed. “Thank you, Joe.”

TO THE EAST THE SKY took on a rosy cream color as dawn approached. Several Highway Patrol vehicles had found them and the troopers helped set up a perimeter. From whom, Joe wasn’t certain. Local police from Gillette, Moorcroft, and Hulett drove out to look at the pickup, Skelton’s body, and to count the bullet holes in the top of the SUV and whistle. Everyone waited for the FBI incident team to find them and clear the scene.

Coon wandered over and joined Joe and Sheridan leaning against Joe’s pickup. He looked ten years older than when Joe had seen him the afternoon before.

“You okay?” Joe asked.

“What do you think?”

Joe didn’t respond.

“Man, oh man,” Coon said. “Why did that idiot shoot at us?”

Joe said, “Meth. We’re drowning in it in rural Wyoming. Everyplace is.”

Coon pushed himself up and away from the pickup. “I nearly forgot. There’s something I need you two to look at. Come on, follow me.”

“Me, too?” Sheridan asked.

Coon said, “Especially you.”

COON OPENED THE passenger hatch of the helicopter and dug out his briefcase from under a seat. He unlatched it to reveal thick files and a sturdy government laptop. As he booted up the computer, he said, “I barely got a chance to see this before we took off. I downloaded it from the Carbon County sheriff’s department. From Rawlins, to be exact.”

“What happened in Rawlins?” Joe asked.

“A pharmacy got robbed and the pharmacist was killed in the robbery. We’re not sure what the bad guys took, but we’re guessing it was cash and drugs. The sheriff’s office is doing an inventory. The store had a closed-circuit camera, and they recovered the digital file. The quality’s not so good and the angle kind of sucks, but you can see the crime going down. The sheriff sent it to us to see if we could help identify the assailants.”

Joe and Sheridan exchanged looks, thinking: “na. but he hurt some man 2day in a drug store.”

The static image was in black-and-white and it showed four empty aisles stocked with packaging.

“From what I understand,” Coon said, “the camera is mounted on the ceiling behind the pharmacy counter. The view is basically what the pharmacist sees when he looks out into the store. As you can see, the store’s deserted.”

Joe felt Sheridan’s hand find his. He didn’t look down to draw Coon’s attention away.

“Okay, here,” Coon said, pointing at the screen, which showed a tall man with thick wavy hair entering the store and milling in the aisles. The man looked to be in his early to mid-thirties. Despite the poor quality of the transmission, Joe could see the man was fairly good-looking, with a prominent jaw and straight nose. He looked to Joe like an actor or an anchorman. The man was studying everything on the shelves with great interest, which struck Joe as discordant. No one was that interested in every single item on the shelves. His behavior was suspicious. Although there was no audio, it was obvious that someone—no doubt the pharmacist, who was out of view—asked the man a question because the man looked up with wide eyes and mouthed, “No.”

Then the man turned and walked swiftly down the aisle and back out the door. The exchange between the pharmacist and the shopper was brief and odd, Joe thought. He said, “We ought to have Cyndi take a look at this. She might recognize that guy. My guess is he’s Robert.”

Coon nodded and reached for the laptop. “Okay, we will in a minute. But we’re pretty sure it’s Robert Stenson. The bureau has a few photos of him and we’ve got agents looking for more. But just a second while I advance this. See if you recognize someone else . . .”

Joe felt Sheridan squeeze his hand.

The door in the store opened again and a second figure came in wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the hood up and cinched tight. There was enough shape to the profile to determine it was a thin female. A strand of light hair crept out from the hood, but because she kept her head down, her face couldn’t be seen.