wouldn’t. You’ll need to meet her when you come up.”
She asked for a description.
“Early forties, married, mother of two,” he said. “She and her family live in broken-down federal housing and she says she’s lost in the system. Kind of sounds familiar, huh?”
“She sounds nice,” Marybeth said.
Changing tack, he asked, “Have you heard anything from Nate? Any idea when he’s leaving?”
“He’s already gone,” she said. “He left a message on our phone tonight. I meant to tell you about that earlier.”
“Did he say when he’d get up here?”
“No. Just to tell you he was on his way but he needed to tend to something in Cody first.”
“So maybe tomorrow,” Joe said.
“I’d assume.”
She waited a beat. “How are you doing, Joe?”
He knew what she was referring to. He described his room, the hotel, the feeling he’d had since he arrived of the presence of ghosts.
“Does anyone know about your brother?”
“No. It’s not important that they know.”
They made plans for Marybeth to bring the girls to the park in a week.
Although tired, joe couldn’t sleep for more than an hour at a time. He couldn’t determine if it was the strange bed, the unfamiliar night moans of an old building, or the particularlyvivid dream he’d had of sleeping on the floor at the side of the bed, knowing his parents were tossing and turning two feet away. He awoke to the foul, sour odor of his dad’s breath after a night of drinking.
He sat up and found his duffel bag with his equipment in it and assembled his Glock and put it on the nightstand.
When he opened the window to let in the cold night air, he thought he saw two figures down on the lawn in the shadows, hand-cupping tiny red dots of lit cigarettes. When he rubbed his eyes and looked again, they’d been replaced by a cow elk and her calf.
PART THREE
YELLOWSTONE GAME PROTECTION ACT, 1894
AN ACT TO PROTECT THE BIRDS AND
ANIMALS IN YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL
PARK, AND TO PUNISH CRIMES IN SAID PARK,
AND FOR OTHER PURPOSES,
SEC. 2. That said park, for all the purposes of this act, shall constitute a part of the United States judicial district of Wyoming, and the district and circuit courts of the United States in and for said district shall have jurisdiction of all offenses committed within said park.
9
The next morning, joe waited alone in the hotellobby for Demming to arrive. There were no other guests up and around so early and he had the entire lobby to himself. He sat in an overstuffed chair and read a day- old
Instead of Demming, a uniformed man of medium build pushed through the front doors. He had the aura of officialdom about him. Joe watched him stride across the lobby floor with a sense of purpose, his head tilted forward like a battering ram despite his bland, open face, his flat-brimmed ranger hat in his hand whacking against his thigh, keeping time with his steps. The ranger’s uniform had crisp pleats and shoes shined to a high gloss. He had a full head of silver-white hair, thin lips, a belt cinched too tight, as if to deny the paunch above it that strained against the fabric of his shirt. He looked to be in his mid-fifties, although the white hair made him seem older at first. Beneath a heavy brow and clown-white eyebrows, two sharp brown eyes surveyed the room like drive-by shooters. The ranger saw Joe sitting in his Cinch shirt and Wranglers, dismissedhim quickly as someone of no interest to him, and approachedthe front desk.
“I need to check on a guest,” the ranger said in a clipped, authoritativevoice.
“Name?” Simon asked without deference.
“Pickett. Joe Pickett.”
“He checked in last night.”
“How long is he staying?”
“A week! Okay, thank you.”
The ranger turned on his heel and began to cross the lobby.
“Can I help you?” Joe asked, startling the ranger. “I’m Joe Pickett.”
The man stopped, turned, studied Joe while biting his lower lip as if trying to decide something. He held out his hand but didn’t come over to Joe. Meaning if Joe wanted to shake it, he’d need to go to
“Chief Ranger James Langston,” the man said, biting off his words. “Welcome to Yellowstone.”
“We missed you at the meeting yesterday,” Joe said.
“I had other matters to tend to.”
“I thought it was your day off.”
Langston nodded. “In my job, you never have a day off.”
“That’s too bad,” Joe said, not knowing why he said it.
Neither did Langston. He released Joe’s hand and stepped back, said, “I hope you got all the information you needed and everybody’s been helpful and cooperative.”
“So far.”
“Good, good. Nice to meet you,” Langston said, starting to head for the door.
“Why did you want to know how long I was staying?” Joe asked pleasantly.
“Just curious,” Langston said. “We’d like to get this whole McCann thing behind us and move on. What’s done is done. There isn’t anything you or anyone else can do about it.”
“Ah,” Joe said.
