Joe nodded. He didn't like contemplating Maxine's inevitable demise and tried not to think about it. Marybeth was much more practical about life-and-death matters and had said she would continue to take Maxine out until Maxine could no longer go. Then they'd have a decision to make.
"Breakfast smells good," she said. "I'll wake up the girls in a minute."
Joe handed her a mug of coffee.
"How are you doing?" she asked, taking it and sipping. "You tossed and turned all night long. Did you get any sleep?"
"Some."
They'd talked briefly the night before when he got home after one. He was still reeling from what he'd seen through the binoculars.
"Have you heard from him?" she asked.
"No."
She nodded. "On my walk I was thinking a lot about what you saw last night. I can't come up with a good explanation. What it all boils down to is you either trust him or you don't."
"He's never given me a reason not to trust him," Joe said.
"That's all you've got," she said, taking her coffee with her to wake up Sheridan and Lucy. AFTER THE breakfast dishes were cleared away, Marybeth took Lucy to school and Joe read over the file he'd been given from the FBI. Bill Gordon was indeed deep inside Klamath Moore's organization, and one of the few of his followers to travel with Moore from rally to rally. The reports in the file were records of the calls Gordon had made to the FBI when he checked in on Mondays and Thursdays. They went back two years.
Six months before, an enterprising agent had summarized the reports up to that date.
The Klamath Moore Animal Rights Movement KM is the self-appointed leader and spokesman of the movement. The number of "members" is unknown and as far as BG knows there is no formal membership list. Based on the attendance at rallies, BG estimates the membership to be more than 200 and less than 500 hard-core followers. KM enjoys telling the media his sympathizers are "ten thousand strong," but there is no evidence to confirm this. The movement has no formal name or charter. There are no officers or leadership structure. This is by design. BG describes the movement as "nonlinear," like al-Qaeda. BG says KM has studied al-Qaeda and used the terrorist organization as a model for structure and purpose. KM says he can never mass enough followers to mount a legitimate, large-scale fight against hunting in the United States. But like AQ, he can-with a very small organization of loyal followers-strike surgically and create chaos far beyond their actual strength. Communication with sympathizers is done exclusively via the Web. Access to the nonpublic URLs is password-protected and changed at random. It's unknown how many followers visit the nonpublic websites. The financing of KM and his effort is murky. BG says KM always seems to have enough money to travel, self-publish pamphlets, and pay organization costs for staging rallies. The hat is passed around at rallies but BG says he's seen the results and the cash collected isn't substantial enough-amounting to a few hundred dollars, usually- to sustain such an effort. BG speculates that KM has a trust-fund inheritance and that he draws from it when he needs money. BG says only rich people never talk of money so he figures KM is rich. We have asked BG to investigate the funding angle further. KM has close relationships with sympathetic reporters at two major television networks and one cable news network (names deleted). These reporters are rewarded for their sympathetic treatment of his cause by being tipped off ahead of time to the staging of events so they will have exclusives. KM will only talk to sympathetic reporters so portrayals of him in the media are generally positive. KM claims to "own" two congressmen and one senator (names deleted). KM's last known address is Boulder, CO, but he keeps constantly on the move. He lives like a fugitive, staying with sympathizers across the nation and around the world. KM keeps in contact with like-minded organizations including PETA, the Animal Liberation Front, Earth First!, Animal Defense Alliance, and similar organizations around the world dedicated to animal rights and the anti-hunting movement (list attached). JOE FLIPPED to the list and was shocked by the sheer number of animal rights organizations. He counted 248 groups in the United States and Canada alone, and thirty-six more in other countries. Most of the organizations stated that they were against "hunting, the fur trade, circuses, rodeos, and animal experimentation." The names were all unfamiliar to him, but varied from the Animal Crusaders in Tucson to Action for Animals in Oakland to SKUNKS, an acronym for the Palmdale, California, Society of Kind Understanding and Not Killing Skunks.
He shook his head and read on: KM travels with a laptop computer from which he manages his public website and the nonpublic websites. BG says KM claims not to need more than three hours of sleep a night, and spends countless hours communicating with followers. KM told BG a week prior to the trespass and arson at a Texas hunting ranch near Waco that "something big is about to happen," but KM could not be physically placed in Texas during the crime. BG didn't know KM's whereabouts during that week, but assumed he was involved. KM was in nearby Wyoming when David Linsicomb, the most prominent of Idaho's domestic trophy elk breeders, was run off the road near Driggs and killed when his vehicle rolled over. On the night of the accident, BG could not verify KM's whereabouts. KM's wife, Shannon, and his infant daughter frequently travel with him. BG gets along well with Shannon, who is Native American. At rallies, KM traces his hatred of hunting and hunters to his boyhood in Oregon's Klamath Valley (hence the name he is known by, his actual name is Harold). KM's uncle used to take him deer hunting. KM says his uncle shot and wounded two deer but didn't pursue them because it was too much trouble. When he finally killed a large trophy near the road, his uncle stood by and watched the buck bleed out instead of putting it out of its misery. The instance so scarred KM that his life's mission was revealed to him at that moment, he claims. BG says KM hinted that his uncle eventually "got what was coming to him" but didn't elaborate. Bureau follow-up reveals that KM's uncle, one Everett Dysall of Klamath Falls, OR, died in 1997 from food poisoning. No foul play was suspected at the time. A bureau review of the autopsy and interview with the attending coroner corroborates the cause of death but provided no solid link to KM. BG says KM seems excited about something about to happen, something BG thinks will be bigger than anything else thus far. Says KM hints that "something is in the works that will blow everybody away." "GEE," JOE said aloud, "I wonder what he's referring to?"
He sat back and rubbed his chin. He was looking forward to talking with Bill Gordon. The hunting story concerning Moore's uncle made him angry. Nothing made him angrier than cruel acts by thoughtless hunters.
"If the story is true," Joe mumbled, "he deserved it."
"Who deserved what?" Sheridan asked as she entered the kitchen. She'd just showered and she wore a towel wrapped around her head.
"Hey, nice hat," Joe said.
She made a face at him because he'd made it a practice over the years to greet her that way when she was turbaned. Joe was surprised to see Sheridan.
"Why aren't you at school?"
"In-service training day for high school teachers. We've got the day off."
"Who deserved it?" she asked, sitting across from him at the table. "What are you reading?"
"Files on Klamath Moore," Joe said.
Her eyes narrowed. "I don't like him. He's a bully."
"You've met him?"
Joe was astounded by both the coincidence and the fact that a teacher had arranged for an in-school program by a man on the FBI's domestic terror watch list.
She told him the story from her class the day before.
"This was your teacher's idea?" Joe said, astounded.
"Mrs. Whaling's kind of, well, passionate about some things. I don't think she knew what kind of jerk he is. But I didn't call him a jerk. I called him an asshole."