Nowhere to Run

25

Joe thought coon looked as if he were racked with turmoil, as if it would physically hurt him to talk. The FBI agent reached back and rubbed his own neck and seemed to be staring at something on the tabletop he found fascinating.

Rulon lowered his voice and looked kindly toward Coon. “Mr. Coon is one of the good guys in this whole situation. He came to me yesterday afternoon because his conscience was bothering him. I know how far out on a limb he is now, and how much courage it’s taken when he could have easily said nothing at all.”

Coon thanked the governor with his eyes, then turned to Joe and Nate.

“What the governor said about greed and corruption is all too true,” Coon said. “Especially these days. There’s just so much money sloshing around in the government that anything is possible. They can’t hire federal employees fast enough or throw billions at projects fast enough. They spend money like a pimp with a week to live. The only growth industry is us-the government. Luckily, we’re somewhat insulated from it out here in the field, but in D.C.-man.”

Joe shook his head and slipped a glance toward Nate to gauge his reaction. Nate looked back and waggled his eyebrows, as if to say nothing he would hear could surprise him. Joe was constantly amazed at the network of contacts Nate seemed to have across the country. He’d purposefully never asked Nate about the company he kept because he didn’t want to know.

Coon leveled his gaze at Joe, pointedly ignoring Nate. He said, “Some background is necessary. Senator McKinty is on the Homeland Security Committee, as mentioned. He knew the government was looking for land for a new counterterrorism effort, a training facility far removed from any population centers. He knew because his staff knows the federal budget inside out and they’re under orders to be on the lookout for opportunities to preempt senators with less seniority and stature to deliver the pork back home. As you know, Michigan has been in a one-state depression for years, so anything he can deliver keeps him popular and gets him reelected time after time. The Upper Peninsula is pretty hard hit, so he wanted to locate the facility there, but there wasn’t a big enough piece of state land that would meet all the specs. So he worked with the locals to identify several huge private holdings that provided the geographical diversity necessary for the facility. He worked with the developer to target the land. What no one knew was that he’d arranged for his son to be a major shareholder in the development as well. You see, McKinty’s largest campaign contributor is himself. This was a way of creating a permanent major donor. There are no laws preventing a senator from contributing to his own campaign.”

Nate said, “Bastards.”

Joe looked over to try and shush him. Nate glared back.

Coon said, “So he delivered an eight-hundred-fifty-million-dollar defense facility to his constituents. Few knew he was personally going to benefit, and those who knew didn’t care because that’s how things are done. All you have to ask yourself is: How many of our representatives enter office as fairly well-off financially, but on a salary of a hundred seventy-five thousand dollars per year retire as millionaires? That’s one way how it’s done.”

“The Clines were a major problem, though,” Coon said, “because they became grassroots heroes for refusing to relocate their business or leave their land. Even though the media didn’t much cover the showdown, it was all over the Internet and talk radio. That put pressure on Senator McKinty and he wanted them gone, and used his pull with federal agencies to put the pressure on them. The Clines were well known as independent backwoods renegade types, and it didn’t take long for legitimate charges to be brought against them.”

“Still,” Joe said, “it was their land. How can the government just take it?”

Coon shrugged. “We can. We do.”

Nate spat, “Bastards.”

“Anyway,” Coon said, “not every member of the Cline family died that day. Two of them survived.”

Joe felt his scalp twitch and his stomach clench. Coon read Joe’s face.

“That’s right,” Coon said. “The two surviving sons were arrested. They were belligerent and claimed they were political prisoners and they wouldn’t spend one minute in jail. It was shaping up to be a major federal trial, but Senator McKinty again got involved. He didn’t want a trial that could blow open the whole controversy again, and he didn’t want his personal connection to the facility widely known. So he sent his staff to the Justice Department, and a deal was cut. If the two surviving Cline sons would drop their claim to the land and agree not to pursue any civil legal action against law enforcement, they wouldn’t be prosecuted. Instead, they’d be given new identities and be placed in the Federal Witness Protection Program and allowed to go away. Otherwise, federal prosecutors would go after them with both barrels and send them to prison for the rest of their lives. Needless to say, their court-appointed public defenders urged them to take the deal.”

“Hold it,” Joe said, shaking his head. “Prosecutors wouldn’t cut those brothers a deal based on what you’ve said, would they? If they really fired on federal officers? What did the brothers have to bargain with?”

“Not much,” Coon said. “But there were people in the administration who didn’t want any undue attention on the land seizure, either. They had enough on their plates at the time with accusations about creeping socialism and such. The last thing they wanted was more controversy about government takings. And don’t forget, federal prosecutors are political appointees. They know where their bread is buttered.”

“This stinks,” Joe said.

Coon nodded. “Welcome to the big time, Joe.”

“And I bet I can guess the names of the brothers,” Joe said. “Camish and Caleb. Grimmengruber was the name they were given for the witness protection program.”

Joe continued, “They told me they were from the UP, but it didn’t click at the time. And the fact they ran a meat-processing company explains how professionally they were able to butcher the elk and my horses.”

Coon nodded. “They were supposed to go to Nevada. There were sweet auto mechanic jobs all lined up for them. But en route, just about a hundred miles from here in Wyoming, they overpowered their federal escort and took off. Needless to say, they never showed up in Nevada. We lost track of them completely, but our agency was told to keep an eye out for them. Until you gave your statement, we had no idea where they ended up.”

Rulon said, “And I would have never put this all together except for Senator McKinty himself. As I said, I’ve been tangling with him for a couple of years, because he’s the chairman of the Natural Resources Committee and he refused to release mineral severance payments to the State of Wyoming that are owed to us. We’re talking hundreds of millions. He wants all that money to stay in Washington so he can siphon it off, the prick. He wouldn’t answer my letters or take my calls until this week. Now, all of a sudden, his staff said he’s rethinking his opposition to releasing the funds. But there’s a condition. He wants the Clines-or the Grim Brothers-to be left alone up there in the mountains. They made up this goofy story of wanting to look out for their former constituents, but I saw right through that. He doesn’t want them to resurface and start talking.”

Joe said to Coon, “So why’d you talk to the governor?”

Coon shook his head. “There’s only so much I can take. I just want to do my job out here and solve crimes and put bad guys in prison. I don’t want any part of deals cut in D.C. between senators and attorneys general. I’ve got a son. I want to be able to look him in the eye. And I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror.”

Joe said, “You are a good man.”

Coon smiled. “I’m a bad bureaucrat, though.”

“That makes two of us.”

Nate said to the governor, “Hold it. McKinty just wants the Clines, or the Grim Brothers, left alone?”

Rulon said, “He didn’t say it in so many words, but yes, that’s what his staff is asking.”

Nate shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t want them left alone. He wants them silenced. That’s the only way he can skate on this.”

Rulon said, “He’s a U.S. senator. He’s not a killer, for Christ sake. Man, I thought I was cynical.”

Nate said, “When did he approach you about the deal?”

The governor said, “Last week. Why?”

Nate said, “Because I think he wanted you to not put any more effort into finding those brothers right away until he could take care of it himself. I wouldn’t be surprised if he, or his son, or the developer, or the facility general manager-whoever could do it at arm’s length and not directly involve McKinty in any way-sent a team up there to solve the problem once and for all. And it wouldn’t surprise me if he reneged on his offer once he got confirmation that the Clines were no more.”

Rulon turned to Carson while pointing his finger at Nate. “This son of a bitch should be our point man in Washington. He’s got a vicious and devious mind.”

“No, thanks,” Nate said. “I used to work for them. I know how they think, and how they operate. The question is, did the team he sent out find the Clines?”

Joe stood up, fighting a wave of nausea. He said, “And is Diane alive and well? Or did they get her, too?”

Nate stood as well. “I wouldn’t be surprised, based on what Joe experienced, to find out that it’s McKinty’s team that’s taking a dirt nap and not the brothers. But there’s only one way we’re going to find that out.”

Joe stared out the window at the governor’s plane and the tumbleweeds rolling down the runway. He said, “They called me a government man. Now I know why they went after me.”

Coon said, “We’re all government men, Joe.”

“Not me,” Nate said proudly.

“So,” Joe said to the governor, “where do we stand?”

Rulon didn’t hesitate. “Go up there and rescue that woman and bring those brothers out dead or alive.”

Carson turned white. “Sir, you can’t give an order like that.”

“I just did.”

Joe stood and clamped his hat on. Nate stood with him.

“Do you need more people?” Rulon asked Joe. “I could have a dozen DCI agents here by nightfall. I can send them back in Rulon One.”

Joe shook his head, said, “I think the smaller the footprint the better. Those brothers own those mountains, and they know when a big contingent is after them, I think. A big group makes lots of noise and raises dust and quiets the wildlife. That’s why I stumbled on Caleb on my own while Sheriff Baird and his men couldn’t find them at all. I think the leaner the better.”

“Meaning you and Mr. Romanowski here,” Rulon said.

Joe nodded. “Plus, I have a pretty good idea where they hang out.”

“Go get those bastards, then,” Rulon said, narrowing his eyes. “Get them the hell out of my state. Send ’em back to Michigan, either vertical or horizontal-I don’t have strong feelings either way.”

Nate was out of the room before Joe could speak.

Rulon said, “Is he still with you?”

Joe shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“Would you go alone?”

“Probably not.”

Rulon blew out a long breath and looked to Carson for solace. Carson looked away.

“Two questions,” Joe said to Rulon. “One, what was the name of the developer in Michigan?”

Rulon shrugged and turned to Coon. “Do you know?”

Coon smiled wearily. “Brent Shober,” he said.

Joe said, “Thought so. Second question. How will the state cope with the loss of money from the feds if Senator McKinty finds out you sent me up there?”

Rulon said, “That’s a good question, Joe. Very politically astute. You’re learning, aren’t you?”

“Not that I’m proud of it,” Joe said.

Rulon put his beefy hands on Joe’s shoulders and leaned his face close. Joe could feel the heat from the governor’s forehead. “If you bring those brothers down the mountain, we have a news story on our hands,” Rulon said. “The story can be spun however we want it to be spun. Meaning McKinty might just find himself in the news again for the wrong reason. It’ll be up to him how he plays it.”

“But if we don’t find the Cline Brothers and Diane Shober?” Joe asked.

Rulon said, “I’m screwed. You’re screwed. We’re all screwed.”