Joe made a mental note to be on the lookout for Connelly’s 4x4 with the Oklahoma plates. There weren’t that many roads in Wyoming, and stranger things had happened.
The second call was from an unknown number that turned out to be Special Agent Chuck Coon’s personal cell phone. “Joe, I looked up what we have on Stenko. You need to call me back as soon as you can. Call this number, not the office number.”
Joe pulled off the highway within sight of Glendo Reservoir. The lake was still and glassy, mirroring the vibrant fuchsia streaks of dusk, and he could see the small twinkling lights of trolling fishing boats working near shore, trying to pick up walleyes.
He caught Coon at dinner with his family, and Joe offered to call later but Coon said, “Hold on.” Joe could hear Coon tell his wife he’d be back in a minute, and a little boy say, “Where’s Daddy going?” The little boy’s voice made something inside him twang in a familiar way.
“Okay,” Coon said in a moment, “I’m in the other room now.”
“I’m on the highway headed north. There’s a pretty sunset.”
Coon ignored him. “Hey, I looked up Stenko, aka David Stenson of Chicago. I was right-we’re interested in him.”
“If his name is Stenson, why does he go by Stenko?”
“They do that,” Coon said.
Joe said, “Oh. Who does that?”
“Chicago mobsters.”
Joe took a breath and held it. The escalation from deviant game violators to… Chicago mobsters… made him suddenly light-headed. He said, “What do you mean you’re interested in him?”
Joe could picture Coon hunching over with his back toward the doorway so he could speak softly and not alarm his son. “Look, Joe, I can’t just give you everything without getting something back. Like how is it a game warden in Wyoming is suddenly asking me questions about tracking down a cell phone involving some guy named Stenko? I mean, how do we get there from here?”
Joe felt a shiver run up his back. Coon’s tone betrayed his intense interest, as did the fact that he’d left Joe his private number and asked him to call after hours. So who was this Stenko? And how was it April could be with him?
Said Joe, “I’m not going to let you take over this investigation.”
“What?” Coon sounded hurt, but it was a put-on, Joe thought.
“I know how the FBI operates,” Joe said. “You move in. You take over. And most of the time I have to admit it’s helpful because you guys have all the electronics, manpower, federal prosecutors, and heavy artillery. Hell, I can’t even keep a poacher behind bars. But in this particular circumstance, I can’t let you guys swoop in.”
Coon said, “Look, Joe, I don’t know what’s going on, but you came to me. You threw out the bait and I took it. This can’t be one way-me giving information to you. Whatever it is you’re into, you need me. You’re one guy in a red shirt in a state pickup. How in the hell are you ever going to track down Stenko?”
Joe thought, You’re right. But he said, “I don’t care about Stenko.”
There was a long beat of silence. “Then what is this about?”
“I care about someone who might be with him,” Joe said, hoping it wasn’t too much information. “And the last time the feds showed up in a situation involving this particular person, really bad things happened. I can’t let it happen again. Simple as that.”
“I’m confused,” Coon said. But he said it in a distracted way. In the background, Joe could hear Coon tapping away at a keyboard. Probably trying to find out what Joe was alluding to.
Joe said, “This is personal.”
“If it involves Stenko, it’s not personal, Joe. It’s obstructing a federal investigation, and we could come down on you like a ton of bricks. Believe me, Portenson would love to do that. And it’s the reason I’m not involving him at this stage. I’m doing you a favor, Joe, can’t you get that?”
Joe believed him. Chicago mobsters? A federal investigation?
“Look, why can’t we trade information?” Coon said. “You give me a little, I’ll give you a little. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that we can help each other out.”
Joe watched a fishing boat do a slow circle in a bay out on the lake. “You start,” he said.
Coon sighed. More tapping. Then: “Stenko’s well known to our Chicago office. He’s one of those guys who’s flown under the radar for years because he’s smart and careful, but his name just kept coming up over and over again in the background. We’re talking real estate schemes, the Chicago political machine, downtown redevelopment, fast-food franchises, waste management contracts. There are allegations that he’s been the mover and shaker behind quite a few Indian casinos as well, but it was hard to figure out if he was doing anything illegal. Finally, seven months ago the federal prosecutor had enough on him to convene a grand jury that indicted Stenko on twenty-four counts, including fraud, bribery, money laundering, extortion-the laundry list of white-collar crimes. No doubt the guy’s intimately connected to most of the stuff that goes on in Chicago, but he wasn’t flamboyant or stupid like a lot of those guys. He made it a point not to get photos of himself with politicians and movie stars, for example. We had a hell of a time getting a valid photo and had to resort to DMV records. He was able to keep himself at arm’s length from most of the hijinks and transactions because he had a really sharp accountant fronting his operations. I should say, he had a sharp accountant named Leo Dyekman. And the Talich Brothers.”
Joe said, “Uh-huh,” as if he knew whom Coon was talking about.
Coon said, “The Talich Brothers are ruthless leg-breakers of the highest order. Three of them: Corey, Chase, and Nathanial. Born a year apart: boom-boom-boom. One black-haired, one blond, one redhead, all built like cage-match wrestlers. They’re famous in Chicago, from what I understand.”
“Okay.”
“So anyway,” Coon said, getting into it, “after years of investigations and two trials that ended when lone jurors held out-call it the Chicago way-Stenko finally goes down. We arrest him in his real estate office with news crews covering it. Stenko gets thrown in the pokey and everything in his office is seized. But when our guys go to sweep up Leo the accountant and the Talich Brothers, they’re nowhere to be found. They’ve flown the coop-disappeared. And so have the computers and financial records we were after to prove Stenko was worth millions. But we forge on, hoping to flip Stenko himself, hoping he’ll turn on Leo and his crew who left him high and dry or the higher-ups in the Chicago scene. But Stenko lawyers up and gets his wife to sell $5 million in real estate to pay his bond.”
Joe was trying to keep up with Coon, trying to figure out where in all this April came in. If at all.