Free Fire

25

Like any family on vacation in yellowstone National Park, the Picketts did the sights. First the Upper, then the Lower Loop; Yellowstone Falls; Hayden Valley; Fishing Bridge; Old Faithful (where they ate cheeseburgers for lunch in the snack bar because Old Faithful Inn was closed); FountainPaint Pots. Winter was held off for yet another day althoughit didn’t even attempt to hide its dark intentions anymore, and the weather was cool and clear. Pockets of aspen performed maudlin Technicolor death scenes on the mountain-sides,and brittle dry leaves choked the small streams and skitteredacross the road with breaths of wind. Sheridan and Lucy were delighted with the park, Marybeth was cautiously relaxed.Oncoming fall brought out the wildlife. Sheridan kept track of The Animal Count in a spiral notebook, noting elk (twenty-four), coyotes (one), bald eagles (two), moose (one), wolves (two), trumpeter swans (seven), Ridiculous-Looking Tourists (five), and buffalo (eighty-nine and counting). Lucy claimed to have seen a bear but it turned out to be a tree stump, thus was docked ten points in Sheridan’s counting system, which she seemed to be making up as they drove along to ensurethat she would win.

Marybeth played referee and awarded Lucy five points back for “looking cute,” despite Sheridan’s protests.

Joe tried to join in, tried to relax, but he felt like an impostor. The.40 Glock was clipped to his belt and was uncomfortable. He felt his heart race every time he saw another vehicle, and his palms broke out in a sweat at the sight of a dark one.

At norris geyser basin, the girls ran ahead on the boardwalk.Joe and Marybeth dawdled, holding hands, letting them get ahead.

“Your heart’s not in this, is it?” she asked him once the girls were far enough ahead not to hear the conversation.

“It’s not that,” Joe said. “I really want them to have a good time. I want you to have a good time. This is such a great place.”

“You’re wound tight,” she said. “I feel like if I let go of your hand, you’d unravel. Is it because your father is here somewhere?”

He tried to laugh but it sounded like a cough. “It’s not about my father. Well, maybe a little. He’s a distraction, but that’s all he is.”

“Cold,” she said.

“He’s nothing to me. I don’t want him involved in our girls’ lives, or in ours. I don’t want them to even meet him.”

“It might be unavoidable.”

“Not if I can help it.”

“And that’s not all, is it?”

“Nope.”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” she said softly. “You’ve got your gun with you even though you’re trying to hide it, and you keep checking the rearview mirror to make sure Nate’s Jeep is still behind us.”

“You saw him back there, huh?”

“I don’t miss much.”

They walked along in silence, until Joe said, “It’s hard to believeso many bad things can happen in such a good place.”

“Stay strong, Joe.”

“I’m trying,” he said. “There’s so much going on, and so littleI’m able to change or figure out. I want Judy to recover. I want my father to recover. I want to know what causes a flamer, who killed Mark Cutler, and why Clay McCann assassinated six people. I want to talk to Chuck Ward and make sure the governor is still engaged and that I’m still employed. And I want to talk to you alone, and to Nate. He’s hovering, as you know. He knows something and he’s waiting for the right opportunityto tell us.”

Marybeth nodded toward Sheridan and Lucy, who had paused at the railing to stare into the depths of a hot pool. Lucy shouted for them to hurry up so they could see the bones deep in the water. After seeing Cutler’s body, Joe didn’t think he wanted to see any more bones.

“We’re not here at the best time, are we?” she said.

Joe pulled her close. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Havingyou and the girls here helps me focus. But after what happenedlast fall. .”

“Enough,” she said, but squeezed his arm in appreciation.

He said, “So I hope you don’t mind that I slipped the desk guy Simon fifty bucks before we left this morning and asked him to move all our stuff to another cabin during the day but not to reflect it on the register. I know that sounds paranoid. .”

“Yes, it does, but I appreciate it.” She looked up at him, smiled. “I hope we can find a little time together before I have to get the girls back.”

He laughed. “Me too.”

“But we have these darned girls with us.”

“You’re the cleverest person I know,” Joe said. “You’ll think of something.”

“Where there’s a will,” she said, letting her hand slip from the small of his back into the back pocket of his Wranglers.

“You haven’t said much about your mother lately,” Joe said. “Are things going okay?”

They drove on the road that connected the upper and lower loop toward the headwaters of the Gibbon River. Joe had noted how pleasant it looked a few days before when he passed, and noted trout rising in the evening. He thought Sheridan and Lucy might like to try fly-fishing there, although both were napping in the car at the moment.

“I’ve deliberately not said anything,” Marybeth whispered, checking to make sure their daughters weren’t listening, “becauseall the signs are still there for a train wreck coming.”

Joe grimaced.

“She’s had two”-Marybeth made quote marks in the air with her fingers-“arts council meetings in the past week. I asked around and confirmed that Earl Alden just happened to be at both of them. And,” Marybeth said, lowering her voice even further and leaning into Joe’s ear, “they left together both times. The meetings ended at eight. Mom got back to the ranch at midnight.”

“Uh-oh,” Joe said.

“Uh-oh is right.”

“Poor Bud,” Joe said.

“What’s wrong with our parents, anyway?” Marybeth asked rhetorically. “Is it because they’re of that generation?”

“I believe so,” Joe said. “The first of the Baby Boomers. It’s all about them.”

“Poor us,” Marybeth said. “We have to put up with those people for a lot more years.”

Joe beamed with pride as Sheridan and Lucy assembled their fly rods, tied on tippet, selected their own flies, and marched toward the headwaters of the Gibbon River. He could tell by the set of Sheridan’s jaw that she was determined to outfish her little sister.

“Stay in sight,” Marybeth called after them. She’d found a flat grassy spot near the pullout to spread a blanket. There was a bottle of wine in the cooler.

“If you catch some fish,” Joe said, “don’t keep more than two each for dinner. Release any more than that like I showed you.”

“That won’t be a problem for Lucy,” Sheridan said over her shoulder, “since she won’t catch anything.”

“But I still get points for looking cute,” Lucy said, throwing a dazzling smile over her shoulder at Joe, “which won’t be something Sheridan has to worry about.”

“She’s right, you know,” Joe said.

“Aaaauuugh!” Sheridan howled.

Nate parked his Jeep behind the van as Joe pulled the cork out of the bottle of wine.

“I guess we need another glass,” Marybeth said.

“And look,” Joe said, feigning sarcasm, “you just happen to have three. How convenient.”

Marybeth shot a sly glance at him. “I always have an extra.”

“Just in case Nate shows up, I know.”

“It doesn’t have to be Nate.”

“But he’s the only one who shows up,” Joe said, pouring.

“True.”

Joe warmed with the realization that Marybeth now felt comfortable joking about her obvious but now harmless attractionto Nate. They were long past all of that, Joe hoped.

“Good timing on my part!” Nate said, coming down the hill. The fact that he wore his shoulder holster jolted Joe back into the situation he was in. For a moment, while he watched his daughters walk through the grass toward the stream and his wife unfurl the blanket and unpack the wine, he’d forgotten.

Marybeth listened carefully as Joe filled Nate in on what had happened since they’d last talked. Nate was particularlyinterested in the flamers and asked Joe to describe them more than once. As Joe did, Nate nodded, rubbing his chin, looking inscrutable.

“It seems like it’s coming to a head of some kind,” Nate said. “Whoever they are decided to go after you and Demming on the same night. You must have hit a nerve.”

Joe nodded. “It had to be the videotapes.”

“Have you looked at them?”

“I haven’t had a chance,” Joe said. “I’ve got three entrances. I may have something worthwhile there, but as I said, Demminghad the other two entrances and her computer is missing.”

“We’ll need to take a look,” Nate said.

“Yup.”

“I’ve got something too.”

Joe and Marybeth looked over the rims of their glasses at him.

“Cutler was holding out on you.”

“Meaning what?”

“Olig was a Geyser Gazer. He and Cutler were best friends and colleagues, and apparently Olig went along on most of Cutler’s forays into the thermal areas. Hoening only went along a couple of times.”

Joe was puzzled. “Why didn’t Cutler tell us that?”

“Two reasons,” Nate said. “One, he and Olig figured somethingout that could result in murder. Two, Cutler knew where Olig was hiding all along. I think Cutler was about to tell you both things when we went to meet with him but never got the chance. My guess is Olig is still here.”

“Where?” Joe asked.

“Guess.”

“The Old Faithful Inn.”

“Right,” Nate said. “Remember how I told you about all the secret rooms and hallways in that building? The ones that were designed for who knows what? They’ve all been sealed off, but that doesn’t mean someone couldn’t live there if the manager showed him how and gave him permission.”

“But it’s closed,” Joe said.

“Officially, yes,” Nate said, “but I saw a light last night on the top floor, toward the back. As I watched, a figure passed in front of the light, then it went out. It’s in that area called Bat’s Alley. That’s a spooky damned place, but a great place to hide.”

Joe looked over at Marybeth.

“I guess I know where you two will wind up,” she said.

“Not tonight,” Joe said.

“Good, since we have dinner reservations at seven.” She turned to Nate. “Reservations are for five, Nate.”

“How did you know I’d be here?” Nate asked.

“I guessed,” she said.

“Enough,” Joe cautioned.

From a distance, Sheridan whooped. “Got one!” Joe saw the trout flash on the end of her line in the setting sun, looking more metallic than alive, confirming once again that there were few things more beautiful in the natural world than a rainbow trout-or his daughter catching one.