They cleared the canyon. Her dad’s green pickup was parked a hundred yards away.
Said Nate, “I hate polluters. I do. But you know who I hate even worse?”
Before Joe could respond Nate answered his own question. “I hate people who prey on the sincere goodwill of others. I hate false religious prophets who milk the savings from people who want to be healed or saved and I hate false environmental prophets who do the same damned thing.”
Nate said, “I read where some of the tribes in the Amazon call these new plantings Devil’s Orchards. So I sent an e-mail to Stenson’s company and asked him what the hell he was doing with my money and raised all these issues. I expected some kind of reasoned response. But you know what I got back?”
Her dad said, “What?”
Nate said, “I quote: ‘You either believe or you don’t.’ Then he accused me of being a shill for the energy companies. Me!”
Her dad laughed. Nate continued, “You should see some of these websites, Joe. You can pay off your guilt for flying in a plane or taking a vacation. You can even offset the entire carbon footprint for your wedding!”
Sheridan felt her scalp twitch.
JOE STOPPED, fixed his eyes on Nate, and said, “What did you just say about a wedding?”
Said Nate, “You can calculate how much of a carbon footprint a wedding will make due to the number of guests, the miles they travel, and so forth. Then using one of these companies like ClimateSavior, you can write a check to offset the damage, and they’ll go plant trees or buy up rain forest or something to offset the damage.”
Joe said to Sheridan, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
His daughter’s eyes were wide, and she nodded without speaking.
To Nate, Joe said, “You’ve said some things that made bells go off in my head. The first was Robert’s company. The second was the PlanetStupido website because the owner of it was murdered two weeks ago in Madison. The third was the wedding because April said they were at a wedding in Aspen where the bride and groom were murdered. This can’t all be coincidence. It might just be a way to connect the murders.”
Nate said, “So why would Robert’s dad get involved? What’s in it for him? And what’s the deal with April? Are you sure it’s even her?”
Joe kicked the dirt. “I don’t know. But until now I thought Stenko was instigating this whole cross-country trip. I assumed he was running from the feds. Now I’m wondering if it isn’t being driven by Robert.”
WHILE NATE RELEASED his prairie falcon to the sky and Sheridan observed, Joe climbed into his pickup and tried to raise Special Agent Chuck Coon. When he didn’t answer on the mutual aid channel, Joe called his cell phone. It went straight to voice mail.
Joe said, “We need to look closer at Robert Stenson. Forget about Stenko for a few minutes. Robert may be the key. What you learn may help us determine where they’re going next.”
He closed the phone and sat back. The late-summer sun was intense through the windshield, and it warmed him. There was a dull ache at the back of his eyes from lack of sleep. He could use rest, and he knew Sheridan could, too. As he watched the prairie falcon climb slowly into the cloudless blue sky in wider and wider arcs, he heard a call come in on the radio from a local dispatcher based in Hulett, two hours to the northeast in the heart of the Wyoming Black Hills.
Someone had called 911, claiming he was dying of gunshot wounds. The alleged victim was a ranch owner named Leo Dyekman, who requested three ambulances to be sent to his ranch.
Joe sat up and increased the volume.
A scratchy response, probably from a Crook County sheriff’s deputy: “Come again? Did you say three ambulances?”
“Affirmative. He requested three.”
“We’ve only got one. You know that.”
“Affirmative. I’m simply relaying his request. He said he was injured.”
“Did he say what happened? Why he needed three?”
“Yes,” the dispatcher said. “He said, ‘One for me, one for the dead psycho, and one for more bodies outside.’ ”
“Oh, man. What’s the location of the ranch?”
“We’re trying to determine that now. The line went dead. We’ve been calling him back, but no one answers. Ruth here knows the area, and she says she thinks it’s in the Bear Lodge Mountains by Devils Tower. She says she heard some guy from back east named Leo bought it a few weeks ago.”
Joe started the motor and opened his window, yelled to Nate and Sheridan, “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s GO!”
22
South of Devils Tower
BLOOD EVERYWHERE. HERS.
Robert, shirtless, driving erratically. Screaming. Stenko in the front seat, yelling back at Robert.
They were driving too fast down a bad, bumpy road. Pine trees shot by on both sides of the road, the sun strobing through them, reminding her of a bright bulb behind a rotating fan. Every time Robert hit a bump, the pain in her leg sent bolts of electricity piercing through her.
But she didn’t cry. Yet. Not until they got out of this. Not until she got out of this.
Stenko yelling, “Watch where you’re going, Robert! Watch the damned road or you’ll kill us all.”
Robert, panicked: “I’m watching the road! Stay out of my face. You’re the one who got us into this, not me.”
“You’re looking more at the mirror than the road. Look at the goddamn road!”
“I’m looking for the Talich Brothers. I’m sure they’re behind us. You know what they’ll do if they catch us…”
Stenko: “If you drive off the road and kill us all, they don’t need to do anything, do they? Their job will be done. Now calm down, son. Calm down. Calm down.”
Robert screaming: “Don’t call me son. And HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO CALM DOWN?”