But Spud Cargill was the key. The only way to keep April out of danger, to delay things long enough for the courts to work, was to find Spud Cargill.
To do this, Joe would need help.
He drove through one of the three red lights in Saddlestring without seeing it. The parking lot at the Twelve Sleep County Municipal Library was empty except for four cars already topped with eight inches of snow. Marybeth's van was one of them.
Joe pulled beside it and jumped out. He left his pickup running.
The library was locked, and a hand-lettered sign had been taped to the double doors saying that they had closed for the day due to the weather. Joe pressed his face to the glass and knocked loudly on the door. The lights inside had already been dimmed. A woman inside, one of Marybeth's co-workers, saw him and squinted. She started to shoo him away when Marybeth joined her, smiled, and approached the door with a set of keys.
"The librarian is sending everyone home," Marybeth said, letting him in. "They've released the kids from school, and I guess the roads and airport are already closed."
Joe entered after shaking snow from his coat and hat. He nodded hello to the other employees, who were gathering their coats and gloves to go home.
"Marybeth, we need to talk."
Her face showed instant concern. There was a sadness in her eyes that quickly emerged. It was a sadness that had not been very far from the surface since April had been taken.
Aware that the other library employees were hovering, Marybeth led Joe to a small, dark conference room. She told the others to go ahead and leave, and that she would lock up.
When she closed the door, he told her what had happened at the meeting.
"You said that? Joe!"
"I know," he said. "But I could smell blood in that room, Marybeth. It got to me."
Marybeth sighed and leaned back against a table, studying him, waiting for what would come next. He was taken by her profound sadness. It hurt him that she felt this way. Which meant he had to do something about it. It was his duty to fix it.
"I'm here for your permission," he said.
"For what?"
"To do what I think best."
"What? You don't need my permission for that."
Joe shook his head. "I've been giving this a lot of thought. For the past month, it's been eating at me."
She didn't understand.
"Marybeth, I've been a bad husband and father. I haven't protected April, or you, or our family. I've let lawyers do it. I've asked Robey about it, hoping he would do something. I've gone the easy, legal route."
"But Joe…"
"Nobody cares for April like we do. The judge doesn't care, the lawyers don't care. To them, it's just more paperwork, another case. Robey tries to care, but he's busy. Now there are things happening where lawyers aren't going to help us."
Joe stepped forward and gently grasped Marybeth by her shoulders. "I'm not sure I can do any good, honey. But I can try."
Marybeth was silent for a moment. Then she spoke gently. "You haven't been a bad father or husband, Joe."
He was pleased that she said it, but not sure he agreed with her. "The most important thing is that April is safe," he said. "It doesn't matter if she's with us or that awful woman. Those things can be sorted out later. For now, we need to see that she's safe."
Marybeth's eyes softened. "I agree," she whispered.
"We can't rely on the sheriff or the lawyers for this. We can't rely on anybody."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm not sure yet," he confessed. "But I know that the reason Melinda Strickland and her stormtroopers are going to confront the Sovereigns is because they think Spud Cargill is up there. If I can get to him first, or prove he isn't really up there, there's no reason for them to do it."
"I trust you," she said. "I trust you more than anyone I've ever known. Do what you have to do."
"Are you sure? I'm not sure that I trust myself."
"Go, Joe."
He kissed her, and they left the library together. While she started her car, he brushed the snow off her windshield and made sure she had traction to pull away. He told her to keep her cell phone on and call him if she had any trouble getting home.
As she started to leave the parking lot, he ran through the snow to stop her. She rolled the window down. He reached in and squeezed her hand.
"Marybeth…" He had trouble finding the words.
"Say it, Joe."
"Marybeth, I can't promise I can save her." Marybeth left the parking lot and turned onto the unplowed street, and Joe watched until the snowfall absorbed her taillights.
He could never remember Saddlestring being as quiet as it was now. The only thing he could hear was the low burbling of the exhaust pipe of his pickup.
Residents had retreated to their houses and woodstoves. Stores, schools, and offices had closed. The snow absorbed all sound, and stilled all motion. There was no traffic.
Joe fought back a horrendous feeling of inevitable doom.
Then he climbed into his pickup and roared out of the parking lot. Twenty-seven
Think.
Joe had no clear idea where he should go or how he should proceed. He drove through Saddlestring on streets that were becoming more impassable by the minute. It was the kind of once-every-fifty-years storm where sending the plows out was pointless until it was over.
He drove by Bighorn Roofing to confirm that it was dark and locked. The same with Spud Cargill's home. He knew he was treading old ground.
He thought of interviewing Mrs. Gardiner again, just to see if she could provide anything new, but dismissed the idea as useless. He wasn't sure she was still in town and not en route to Nebraska.
Rope Latham might know something, he thought. Latham might reveal where his friend was likely to run. No doubt Barnum and Munker had asked Rope about his partner, but if he had said anything to them, it hadn't resulted in anything. Now Latham was in jail, in the county building, guarded by sheriff's deputies. Barnum's crew might not let Joe in to see him, or might delay a meeting throughout the day. Joe didn't think he had the time to waste right now. Also, Rope Latham wouldn't exactly have special feelings for the man who had arrested him, and if he was going to talk, it probably wasn't going to be to him.
Using his cell phone, Joe made sure Marybeth had made it home. She was there, but said the county had closed the road in back of her. And her van was stuck in the driveway.
On a chance, he tried another number.
"County attorney's office."
"Robey? You're there."
"Ah, Joe…" he said it in a way that suggested he wished it was just about anybody else who was calling him.
"Robey, you need to help me."
Silence.
"Robey?"
"I shouldn't even be talking to you, Joe, after what you said this morning. How you treated me. I'll just assume that you're a little off your rocker right now. Can I assume that?"
Joe nodded, even though Hersig couldn't see it. "I guess you can assume that. I guess I get that way when I see a blood-bath coming."
"Oh, for Christ's sake, Joe…"
"Robey." "What?"
"Are Strickland and Munker still gathering the troops? Considering the weather, I mean?"
"You are to stay away from that meeting, Joe. You're likely to be arrested if you even show up."
"So that's a yes."
"Yes!"
Joe slowed to a stop in the middle of the street. There was no traffic to impede. "How are they going to get up the mountain? I just talked with Marybeth, and she said Bighorn Road is already closed."
"I don't know all the details, Joe. This isn't exactly my department. But I heard Barnum put in a request for those Sno-Cats again. And the sheriff's department has snowmobiles of their own. My understanding is that they'll roll as soon as they can get enough vehicles."