Force of Nature (28 page)

“What?”
she asked, her voice shot through with outrage.

“You okay?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“No reason,” Joe said, turning back down the hall. Behind him, he could hear her voice trail off. Something about being grounded without a cell phone, practically a prisoner in her own home …

Situation normal
, he said to himself.

He returned to the front room. Tube yawned and padded down the hall on his heels.

Joe stopped inside the threshold and squinted at Reed.

“Mike, why are you here?”

Reed chuckled, lowered his coffee cup, and said, “Your wife called and told me what happened at the library when the lines went down. I thought I might just come up here and check on her and kind of hang out until you got home. Just to make sure this Bob White guy—or whoever he is—didn’t decide to come by for another visit.”

“Thank you,” Joe said. He was touched.

“Don’t mention it,” Reed said. “To be honest, it feels kind of nice to get out of the office for a while. McLanahan is going crazy. He’s lashing out at everyone like Hitler in his bunker during the last days of Berlin. I don’t mind getting away from
that
.”

Marybeth peeked out at Joe from the kitchen. She held her cell phone to her ear and gestured with a “just a minute” finger in the air.

“Did you locate the guy who spooked Marybeth?” Joe asked Reed.

The deputy shook his head. “He was long gone, unfortunately. We’re circulating his description and the make of the vehicle she saw
in the parking lot, though. If we get an identification I’ll let you know right away. This town isn’t big enough to hide in very long.”

“I know,” Joe said. “But it’s a hell of a big county.”

“Joe,” Reed said, “let us handle it if we find him. I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to be there. I’ve seen that look in your eye before.”

“Hmph.”

“Do you have any idea who it was?” Reed asked, shooting Joe his sidelong cop stare.

“Not for sure,” Joe said.

“Marybeth told me it might be a guy named”—he glanced at his notebook—“John Nemecek. We ran the name and came up with absolutely nothing. No priors, no record of any kind. We don’t even know where he’s from.”

“That sounds about right,” Joe said.

Reed said, “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Joe thought about it for a few seconds and came clean. “Nate told me this John Nemecek might be after him. Apparently, they served together in Special Forces. I don’t know much more than that, but it’s possible Nemecek had something to do with all that’s been going on around here.”

Reed didn’t blink, and continued to deadeye Joe. “So you’re all but admitting Romanowski offed the Kellys and Ron Connelly.”

Joe said, “I don’t want to go there. But this Nemecek might be the key to everything.”

“How long have you suspected this?”

“From the start. But I’ve got no proof at all. I’ve never seen the guy, and I don’t know anything more about him than what Nate told me before he flew the coop. I’m not about to take my suspicions to McLanahan or Dulcie until I’ve got some kind of solid proof.”

“Still, you should have said something before now,” Reed said. “We might have found this guy sooner.”

Joe shook his head. “I don’t have any evidence, Mike. I’ve only got a suspicion. And I don’t want McLanahan to botch it by overplaying his hand.”

Reed put his coffee down and looked away, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I understand,” he said. “I could see the sheriff announcing this guy’s name in the press as our suspect so it looks like we’ve made some progress in the investigation, and drive this Nemecek underground. And if we didn’t find him right away, McLanahan would hang you out to dry and say you’ve been withholding evidence. He desperately needs a scapegoat.”

“I’ve played that role before,” Joe said.

“I know.”

Joe turned, walked past Marybeth in the kitchen, and found a six-pack of Coors in the refrigerator. He twisted the cap off a bottle.

“Want one?” he asked Reed when he returned.

“I want one so bad I could die,” Reed said. “But I’ll have to pass.”

“Sorry,” Joe said, recalling Reed’s problems with alcohol a few years before. “I forgot.”

“So what’s next?” Reed asked, gesturing with both hands to include the whole of it all.

“I might go over their heads,” Joe said.

“You mean McLanahan and Dulcie Schalk?”

“Yup.”

“To who? The governor?”

Joe shook his head. “He can’t help me. But there’s a guy named Chuck Coon in the FBI in Cheyenne. I’ve worked with him a few times. He’s by the book all the way, but he might be interested in this, and he’ll have better resources to find out something about Nemecek—or rule him out.”

“McLanahan’s not going to like that,” Reed said, obviously savoring the prospect.

“Too bad,” Joe said. “When this guy—whether he’s Nemecek or Bob White or both—approached my wife, he made it personal. I’m going after him with both barrels.”

“And you think the Feds might know about him?”

Joe took a long drink and lowered the bottle. “Feds can find out about other Feds easier than we can.”

Reed sat back. “‘Other Feds’? Nemecek is a government guy?”

“Used to be,” Joe said. “I don’t know his status right now. He used to be in Special Forces with Nate.”

“And you think the FBI can find something on him? You might be giving them too much credit,” Reed said.

“Maybe.”

Reed nodded toward the kitchen and lowered his voice. “You’re married to a tough lady, you know. My wife would have fallen apart if that guy showed up at her office.”

“She’s tough, all right,” Joe said. “Do you know what she’s doing in there right now?”

“I gather she’s calling airlines and hotels,” Reed said. “I think you’re all going on a little vacation. And I think it’s a damned good plan, myself.”

“Vacation?” Joe said. “How are we going to afford that?”

AFTER REFILLING
Reed’s cup and asking him to stay around a little longer, Joe ducked into his office and booted up the computer. Marybeth was still occupied, although when he heard her read her credit card number to the agent on the other end of the line, he assumed she was about done.

He was pleased to find out the phone company had restored service
and he could both use the house phone and access the Internet. He sat down and opened the browser and scrolled through the bookmarks and clicked on the falconry website. His scalp crawled when he saw there was a single new entry:

JOE PUSHED
his chair away from the monitor and rubbed his eyes. Nate was often obscure when he spoke, and there were times after they talked when Joe wondered what his friend was trying to say. But this seemed extremely clear.

In the other room, he heard Marybeth close her phone. She was in his office within fifteen seconds. She eased the door shut behind her and leaned back against it.

“Thank God you’re home,” she said. “I hate it when I can’t reach you.”

“Likewise,” he said, then told her what they’d found at the line shack.

“You got my message, though?” she asked.

He stood up and closed the gap and wrapped his arms around her. She was stiff at first, but then welcomed the embrace and burrowed her face into his shoulder. Her hair smelled good. She said, “He scared me, Joe. And what bothered me the most was how
confident
he was. He didn’t really threaten me, or say anything that we could use against him. There was no mistaking his intent, and who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t gotten that call.”

“Any idea who called him?”

“No. But it made him change his plans.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be reached,” Joe said, stroking her back. “I wish I could have been there. But I’m very glad Mike came here.”

“Me, too. He’s a good man.”

Then: “Joe, he knew us. And he seemed to know you wouldn’t show up even when I told him you were on the way.”

Joe stopped stroking her and asked, “Really? He knew my location?”

“I don’t know about that for sure, but he knew you were in the field and wouldn’t show up to interrupt him.”

“That’s no good,” he said. “He must be keeping close tabs on the sheriff’s office.” His mind leapt. And he couldn’t help but suspect Mike Reed in the other room, even though Reed had never given Joe a reason not to trust him. But he instantly wished he hadn’t told Reed so much.

Marybeth stepped back and looked up at Joe. “This man, Bob White or John Nemecek, whoever he is, just oozed creepiness. I honestly had no doubt he would have hurt me if he didn’t get that call. I don’t have any doubt he will go after our girls if it would help him get what he wants.”

“Which is Nate,” Joe said.

Her eyes flashed as she said, “Which is why we’re leaving this place for a while. I can’t put my girls at risk any more than they are now. Or you, Joe. I refuse to let a member of our family get hurt.”

She said it with such vehemence that there was no point in arguing, Joe knew.

“Nate agrees with you,” he said, handing her the printout.

She read it and handed it back.

“You didn’t tell me you were in touch with him,” she said, hurt.

“I haven’t been,” Joe said. “This is the first communication he’s sent since he left.”

“I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other,” she said.

“We don’t, and I’m sorry. But I didn’t want you to get any more involved than necessary.”

She glared at him, and he eventually looked away.

“We can talk about this later,” she said. “Right now, Nate and I are on the same page. I booked us on the first flight out tomorrow morning.”

“To where?” Joe asked with no enthusiasm.

“Saddlestring to Denver to Los Angeles,” she said.

“Los Angeles?” Joe said incredulously. He’d never been there and didn’t have any desire to see it. But Marybeth had lived there for a few years while growing up, and she was somewhat familiar with the city.

She said, “I can’t think of a better place to get lost, can you? I don’t know anyone there anymore, and no one knows us. Maybe we can take the girls to Disneyland.”

“Disneyland …” Joe repeated, shaking his head.

“Do you have a better idea?”

Joe thought,
Find Nemecek and take him down.
But he said, “Nope.”

“Then let’s start packing. I’ve booked us into a Holiday Inn in Anaheim. It’s one of those places with a package deal that gives discounts to Disneyland and caters to young families. It’s so boring, no one will even want to try and find us.”

Joe cringed.

She said, “I’ll wake the girls up. Tomorrow, as we’re boarding that plane and not before, I’ll call the schools and let them know Lucy and April will be missing some classes. And I’ll tell Sheridan what’s going on. I’ve got some sick leave built up at the library I can take,
and I know you’ve got plenty of time coming because you never take any days off.”

Joe screwed up his face and crossed his arms over his chest.

“What?”
she asked, her voice rising.

“How are we going to afford this?” he asked.

“We’ll figure something out,” she said, and started to leave the room. “Don’t forget, my mother left us money for the girls.”

Joe groaned at the mention of Marybeth’s mother. “That’s for their college,” he said. After all, he’d negotiated the deal with Missy several weeks before, as her price for leaving without him revealing what he knew about her. Money had shown up in their college funds via wire transfer. It had been an act of pure extortion, and Joe was proud of it.

Marybeth said, “They’ve got to get to college first, Joe.”

He didn’t argue with that logic.

“I’m going now,” she said. “I’ve got to get the girls up and help them pack.”

When he didn’t follow, she turned back to him and locked his eyes with hers. “Joe, I know what you’re thinking.”

He didn’t say yes or no but let her continue.

“What I’m telling you is we need to leave,” she said. “All of us. I looked into that man’s eyes and I saw no empathy at all. Not even a spark. It was like looking into the eyes of one of Nate’s falcons. He’s capable of anything, and he’ll do anything to get to Nate. Our family means nothing to him except as bargaining chips. We can’t let him use us as bait to lure Nate here to his death. Do you understand me?”

Joe didn’t respond. It made perfect twisted sense, he thought. The man at the library had set the trap.

“I bought four tickets,” she said, opening the door. “Your name is on one of them.”

She started to reach for the door handle but stopped short. Turning, she gestured to a stack of books on Joe’s desk. He followed her finger. He hadn’t noticed them previously.

She said, “I don’t know if it means anything at all, but those are the library books he brought to check out. They could have been chosen at random for an excuse to engage me, but my intuition tells me they mean something to him.”

Joe picked the books up one at a time and frowned.
The Art of War
by Sun Tzu.
Falconry and Hawking
by Phillip Glasier. And
The Looming Tower: Al-Qaeda and the Road to 9/11
by Lawrence Wright. Joe felt his neck get hot.

“What?” she asked. “Do they mean something to you?”

“I’ve seen them all before,” he said. “At Nate’s place. They read the same books. It was our man, all right.”

JOE SAT DOWN
heavily at his desk and reread the message from Nate on the screen. There was no other way to take it than Nate wanted them to hit the road.

He looked through the three books again. Both
The Art of War
and
Falconry and Hawking
seemed too specialized and unrelated to provide much insight. But
The Looming Tower
? Joe opened it and turned straight to the index, looking for the names Nemecek or Romanowski. He found neither. But he agreed with Marybeth: something in the book had meaning to them. But where to start?