Nick looked over his shoulder and saw the team appearing to be taking in the scenery from the back of the truck, but he knew better. Each set of eyes was rummaging the countryside, searching for anything suspicious. “It gets complicated.”
Steele gave Nick a sideways glance. “Is that another way of saying get lost?”
“Not at all. It’s just that some of the people involved aren’t the type to. . uh. . be associating with law enforcement types.”
She pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “You mean like the one with the purple toothpick?”
Nick looked back and rolled his eyes at the sight of Silk in his long, black, wool coat, and pointy black boots sticking out from the bottom of his perfectly creased jeans. He looked like he belonged on the sidelines of a college football game. “Yes, like him,” Nick said.
“I see.”
This seemed to satisfy her curiosity for the moment. She slowed even further and made a left hand turn at the first traffic light Nick had noticed. In a few minutes they were rolling into the freshly asphalted parking area in front of the Gila County Sheriff’s Office. Like most buildings in Payson, it was made of wood and topped with a shingled roof. Parked in front of the building was a sparkling new Ford pickup truck with temporary plates demonstrating its adolescence.
Nick pointed to the vehicle. “That’s the Sheriff’s?”
Steele nodded. “It’s his baby. He’s practically showing it off door-to-door.”
The group unloaded duffle bags full of gear and followed Steele through the front door and into the administrative office. Three older women were busy behind the counter. Two were on the phone, and the third was heaving a cardboard box full of files across the room. The walls were lined with filing cabinets and the floor was an aging linoleum that curled slightly at the perimeter.
Steele removed her baseball cap and waved a thumb over her shoulder at the small crowd behind her. “Afternoon, Lorraine. This is the crew of agents from Baltimore that Sheriff’s been waiting for. Is he in?”
The woman had the unimpressed look of someone who’d seen too much reality TV. She placed the box on her desk and picked up her phone. “They’re here,” she said.
After a moment she placed the phone down and pointed toward a hallway. “You know where to go.”
Nick trailed the field, taking it all in. The agents all nodded at the woman as they passed and Silk pulled the toothpick from his mouth in a hat-tipping gesture.
Once inside the Sheriff’s personal office, linoleum gave way to a brown industrial grade carpet. A giant picture of Geronimo loomed on the wall across from the Sheriff’s desk, which was flanked by the United States flag and the state flag of Arizona. The Sheriff wore a tan uniform with a gold star on his sleeve. He sat with his legs crossed as if he were a guest on a talk show and his hands cradled a Styrofoam cup on his slight potbelly.
“Well, well,” the Sheriff smiled, “look what the cat drug in. The federal government has graced me with their finest men.” He quickly nodded at Agent Steele, “And women.”
“Sheriff Skrugs,” Steele said, hat in hand, “This is Agent Bracco.”
Nick made his way to the desk and reached over to shake the Sheriff’s hand. “My name’s Nick. This is Matt, Ed, Carl, Dave, Mel and Don. I think you know why we’re here.”
“I have a pretty good idea,” the Sheriff said.
Nick pointed and the men let the heavy bags drop to the floor in the back of the room. Carl Rutherford closed the door and assisted in unloading rifles, magazines full of rounds, video and audio equipment, and laptop computers.
The Sheriff squinted at the sight. “What’s all that about?”
“Just setting up shop,” Nick said.
“Now hold on. I told your boss I’d help you out, but I didn’t think you were gonna take the place over.”
No one paid any attention to the Sheriff. They kept to their task while Nick spread a map of Arizona across Skrugs’ desk. Matt and Dave Tanner bent over the map with Nick and began the process of familiarizing themselves with the area. Agent Steele poked her head over Matt’s shoulder and Nick encouraged her to participate.
“Please,” Nick said, “could you mark the Sheriff’s office for us?”
Steele pulled a pencil from a plastic cylinder on Skrug’s desk and began examining the map.
“We’ll need at least a half a dozen more men, Sheriff,” Nick said.
“Just a dog gone minute,” Skrugs bellowed. “I never offered any manpower from my office, cause we just can’t spare it right now.”
“Sheriff,” Nick said in a tight voice, “we’re fairly certain that the headquarters for the Kurdish terrorists is in this area. We have until 9 PM to find them or there’s a good chance that the White House will be history. Does that help in the motivation department?”
The room became quiet while Sheriff Skrugs leaned sideways in his chair, looked down, and dropped a long, juicy, strip of chewing tobacco into the Styrofoam cup. When he sat up he seemed to enjoy the awkward gap in the conversation. He smiled a brown smile. “I’m going to tell you something, Mr. Special Agent. There’s an election in a few weeks and I’m going to be reelected to protect and serve the fine people of Gila County. Now your job and my responsibilities may not coincide, but that won’t prevent me from assisting you. It’s just that I have a manhunt going on at the moment and I’m not willing to spare my deputies for a wild goose chase.”
“It’s not a wild goose chase, Sheriff.”
“No, huh? If this is so important to the President, then how come I see only a handful of FBI agents instead of a platoon of Marines?”
Nick folded his arms. He could see that logic wasn’t going to play a big part in the proceeding, so he decided to lower himself down to the proper level. “That’ s a nice truck you have out there.”
Skrugs turned his head suspiciously while boring a hole into Nick’s eyes. “Thank you.”
“It’s a Special Edition, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Must’ve been expensive.”
“Thirty-thousand dollars,” Skrugs said, flatly.
“Thirty-one thousand, five-hundred and twelve, to be exact. And you paid cash.”
Skrug’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you come right out and tell me what you’re getting at?”
Nick looked around at the office, sizing it up for potential. “If you can’t spare any men, fine. At least allow us the liberty of using your office as a command post and stay out of our way.”
Skrug’s drooled another strip of tobacco into his cup. “Don’t play games with me, Special Agent. What’s the truck thing all about?”
“We’ll need more detailed maps and I had a list of newly purchased homes faxed here from the county records department. Can you locate that for us?”
Now the Sheriff was on his feet and getting up into Nick’s face. Matt and Dave Tanner each pulled an arm and wrestled Skrugs back into his chair. Nick stretched his arms out across the desk and leaned over. His tone was dead serious. “I don’t need any more friends, Sheriff. Get the paperwork I requested, then you can get the fuck out of here and chase down your horse thief, or whoever the fuck you’re protecting your citizens from.”
“All right, all right,” Skrugs shook off the two agents flanking him. “There’s no reason to get all riled up about this.”
Nick stood upright and nodded. “Good. I’m glad you see it our way.”
Skrugs stood and reached for his belt hanging from a hook on a wall behind his desk. The belt was abnormally wide and contained his holstered gun and radio. Matt gave Nick a look and Nick held up a hand signaling him to allow the Sheriff to get his belt. As Skrugs strapped it around his plump waist, he said, “There’s no need for any paperwork.”
“Why’s that,” Nick said, warily.
“Because,” Skrugs said, adjusting his belt, “I already know where they are.”
Chapter 30
Nick and Matt were back out in the parking lot of the Sheriff’s office while Skrugs was inside drawing a map to the terrorist’s hideout. Matt loaded a backup.38 snub and stood in the cold with his pant leg pulled up, exposing his ankle holster. Nick tore open a small aluminum pouch, then walked toward the Sheriff’s truck and came back empty-handed.