C. Box - Out of Range

"Please hold," the receptionist said, and the music came back.

Tassell had crossed the room and was hovering behind Joe.

"I know," Joe whispered to him. His stomach was knotting up, and Pi said frivolously, "I think we've got the hook in the bastard's mouth. Now he'll know what fish feel like."

"Pi-" Joe started to say, when the music stopped suddenly.

"This is Don Ennis." His voice was a harsh, no-nonsense baritone. "This is not a good time to call. What's so goddamned important?"

Pi mimed the act of reeling in a fish while she spoke: "Mr. Ennis, this is Pi Stevenson-"

"Is there somebody there with you?" Ennis interrupted. "I thought I heard another voice."

Joe thought, Shit.

"Yes, there is," Pi said smoothly, and Joe felt his scalp crawl. "I'm here with Birdy Richards. He's the owner of Wildwater Photography, and I work for him."

Joe let out a long, silent sigh.

"I thought you were that animal-rights kook."

"One and the same, Mr. Ennis, but that's not why I called."

"What is it, then? I told you this was a bad time."

"Well, we thought you would want to know," she said.

"Know what?"

Birdy leaned forward toward the phone. "Mr. Ennis, this is Birdy Richards. Do you know what we do here at Wild-water Photography?"

"No, and I really don't care."

Birdy glanced at Joe, hurt. Joe gestured for him to go on.

"We've got cameras placed on the banks of the Snake River," Birdy said. "Where the rapids are. We take pictures of the rafters when they come through the whitewater. The rafters usually don't even know it, because they're having too much fun or they're too scared to look for the cameras. Then, at the take-out spots, we pass out flyers saying the rafters can buy photos of themselves shooting the rapids if they come into town to my shop. We have proof sheets ready by the time they get here that they can look at, and I sell the shots either as prints or I can put them on a disk. About five to seven percent of the rafters decide they want pictures made of their Snake River experience."

As Birdy talked, Joe began to relax. Birdy had made his sales pitch often enough that he sounded comfortable. Joe could imagine Ennis's mind racing with the possibilities of what he was being told.

"Of course," Pi interjected, "that means ninety-five percent of the photos aren't sold to anyone. Sometimes, they turn out to be the most interesting shots taken."

Stop there, Joe gestured to her.

"What the fuck?" Ennis said. "What are you telling me exactly?"

"Just that we get a lot of pictures we don't quite know what to do with," Birdy said.

Pi leaned forward, and Joe mouthed, No! She sat back, pouting.

"So," Ennis said, his voice hushed, "are you telling me your cameras shot all of the rafters on the river today?"

Birdy looked at Joe, fear in his eyes. He obviously didn't know how to answer the question, how to parse his words so he wasn't lying. The fact was, Birdy's cameras shot only rafts for companies that enrolled in his program and agreed to tape photocells on their rafts that would signal the remote cameras to work. All the other rafts, including the Ennis raft, would have passed by unnoticed.

"Mr. Ennis," Pi said, while Joe cringed in anticipation, "what we're saying is that we got a lot of pictures we just hate to see go to waste. Some real prize-winners."

Okay, Joe thought, signaling her. That was vague enough.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," Ennis growled.

"We thought you'd find that interesting," Pi said, beaming at Joe and yanking an imaginary hangman's noose above her head.

"Would you consider possibly selling the photos you took today?" Ennis asked.

"Sell them?" Pi said innocently.

"You know what I'm talking about," Ennis said. "Quit fucking around. I want to look at them, and maybe I could buy some of them. I want you to bring them to me."

Tassell's deputy sneezed in the back of the room.

Ennis went silent.

Joe covered his face with his hands.

"Who was that?" Ennis asked.

Birdy looked stricken. His wide forehead was beaded with sweat. Pi, for the first time, looked scared.

Then Joe mouthed, The dog.

"Just the dog," Pi said to the phone.

"The dog?"

"Pi feeds the dog a vegan diet," Birdy said, running with it. "He doesn't get enough protein so he catches a lot of colds. I keep telling her that dogs need to eat meat, even if people don't."

"Dogs can survive perfectly well without meat," Pi said heatedly, meaning it. "They can get their protein from soy and other natural products."

"Jesus, you people," Ennis said disgustedly.

Again, Joe relaxed.

"Mr. Ennis," Birdy said, "we can't bring the pictures there. They're here on the computer. But if you want to, you can come look at them at the shop."

Again, silence. Joe guessed Ennis was deliberating what to do.

"Has anyone else seen the photos?" Ennis asked.

"No, sir."

"Does anyone else know about the photos?"

"Not yet, sir," Birdy said, hanging the yet out there.

"Sit tight. What's the address?" Ennis barked. "I'll be there in thirty minutes."

When the call was concluded, Birdy flopped forward into his arms as if completely spent, and Pi pumped her fist in the air and screamed, "Yes!"

Joe turned and looked at the sneezing deputy, who was beet red. Then to Pi and Birdy: "Great job."

Randy Pope arrived at the photography shop as the sheriff and his deputy were hiding their vehicles on adjacent streets. Pi and Birdy stood around nervously near the counter, waiting for Don Ennis to arrive. Joe and Trey Crump were behind the curtain in the darkroom, and Trey motioned to Pope to join them so he couldn't be seen if Ennis drove by and looked through the front window.

"The director doesn't like it," Pope said, as Joe slid the curtain closed behind him. "He's ordering you to pull the plug on this before we all wind up in court for entrapment."

Joe was thankful for the darkness because the look he gave Pope could have resulted in a charge of insubordination.

"We're too far along for that," Trey said in defense. "We can't stop anything now. Ennis is on his way."

"Didn't you hear me?" Pope asked. "I said the director doesn't want us involved with this. He thinks the governor may have already heard from Ennis about Joe assaulting him. It looks like a vendetta by the agency against one of the governor's biggest supporters."

"It's my vendetta," Joe said, "against a guy who caused the death of a game warden as well as his own wife."

Pope turned on Joe, prodding him in the chest. "You shouldn't even be here. You're officially suspended for the shooting. You're so far over the line I can't even see you. And you can forget about taking over this district."

"Touch me again with that finger," Joe said, "and I'll break it off."

Trey shouldered his way between them, and Joe stepped back, trying to calm down. Despite the darkness of the room, he saw orange spangles flash in his vision and knew he was seconds away from lashing out at Pope.

"Randy," Trey said in a calming voice, "Ennis all but admitted he killed her. He's coming here to try to buy the pictures so he can't be implicated. Everything is on tape, and even Tassell thinks it's clean and legal."

"But there aren't any pictures," Pope said. "The poor guy probably thinks he's being framed by those nuts out there, and he doesn't know what to do."

Beyond the curtain, Joe heard Tassell, his deputy, and the owner of Radio Shack enter the shop and assemble behind the closed office door. The stage was now set for Ennis.

"You weren't here," Trey said. "They never told Ennis they had pictures of him murdering his wife. Ennis just assumed they did, and he's coming here. Once he's in the shop, he'll say something that incriminates him. Then the sheriff will arrest him. If he doesn't incriminate himself, he walks away."