C Box - In Plain Sight

On the raised podium itself, Arlen sat comfortably in a chair looking out at the audience, waving and winking at his friends. There was an empty seat on the other side of the podium. The chair was for Hank, as both brothers were supposed to speak at the event. The closer it got to ten A.M., when the wing was to be dedicated, the emptier the seat seemed to be.

JOE HAD AWAKENED in a foul mood that continued to spiral downward as the day went on. It had started when he opened his eyes in bed, looked around, and realized once again that his family was on the Longbrake Ranch instead of in their own home. It continued through breakfast, as Missy held court and pointed out repeatedly to his daughters how many fat grams there were in each bite they were taking. His black mood accelerated and whipped over into the passing lane when he started to contemplate just how ineffectual he had become; how useless, how he was no better than the bureaucrats he worked with.

Then there was the message on his cell phone from Randy Pope: “You left your house? Don’t you realize that is state property? What if it is vandalized even more while you’re gone? Do you plan to take responsibility for that ?”

Joe seethed as he drove.

He was tired of following procedure, asking permission, seeking warrants, waiting for instructions, hoping for help.

No one, except him, was going to get him out of this.

As he drove his family to the grand opening, Joe made a mental list of things that were driving him mad. While he did so, he vaguely listened to Sheridan tell Lucy about the incredibly boring English literature class she was in. They were now reading Shakespeare, she said. Suddenly a thought struck him with such force that his hands jerked on the wheel and Marybeth said, “Was there a rabbit in the road?”

“No,” Joe said. “Something just occurred to me.”

“What?”

“About Opal. Something I never thought of before.”

“So…?”

“Sheridan,” Joe said, looking up into his mirror so he could see her face, “would you please repeat what you just told Lucy about the play you’re reading? The one about the king?”

AS THEY WAITED for the ceremony to begin, Marybeth said, “I’ve been thinking about your new theory.”

“Yes?”

“I’m not sure I buy it. Is Opal really capable of something that mean? With her own sons?”

Joe nodded. “Opal is capable of anything. Remember, she didn’t have any qualms about stretching a neck-high wire across the river. And you untangled her books. You know how secretive she could be.”

Marybeth shook her head slowly. “Joe, if you’re right…”

“I know,” he said.

Marybeth started to say something to him when she was distracted by the fact that most of the people in the crowd had turned in their seats and were craning their necks and pointing.

“Well, look who’s here,” Marybeth said.

“Who?”

Marybeth pointed at the black new-model Yukon that had entered the lot with a license plate that said simply ONE.

The driver’s door opened and a big man with stooped shoulders and an easy smile swung out. He began instantly shaking hands and slapping backs. He moved through the crowd with a slick expertise, never stopping long enough to be engaged, but making eye contact with each person and calling most by name.

Marybeth said, “He looks like he’s headed this way.”

In a moment, he was right in front of them.

“Joe Pickett?”

“Yup.”

“I’m Spencer Rulon.”

“Hello, Governor.”

“Call me Spence. C’mon, let’s go for a little ride. Is this your wife?”

“Yes. Marybeth.”

“Lucky man. Come along, Marybeth. We’ll be back before the hoopla begins.”

WYOMING GOVERNOR SPENCER Rulon drove and spoke with a kind of daredevil self-assurance that came, Joe thought, from being pretty sure all his life he was not only the smartest but the cleverest human being in the room.

“We’ve got ten minutes before I need to be back at the opening,” the governor said, roaring out of the parking lot and onto Main Street, making the turn on what felt to Joe like two wheels. “Then I’ve got to take the plane back to Cheyenne right afterward. A pack of snarling Feds are coming to meet with me at four o’clock about the wolf issue. They’re like hyenas when they smell blood, and since we lost that court case they’re circling what they think is a dying corpse. But we’re not dead yet. We’ll win.” He shook his head in disgust. “Feds,” he spat.

Joe fumbled for the seat belt and snapped it on securely. He shot a glance back at Marybeth in the back seat, who was doing the same thing.

Rulon looked over at Joe and flashed on his full-blast smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Joe Pickett.”

“Likewise,” Joe said, shaking the governor’s proffered hand while, at the same time, glancing out the windshield as they drove through a red light. Luckily, there was no cross traffic at the moment.

“I’ve been wanting to meet you.”

Joe couldn’t think of how to respond, so he didn’t.

“How is that Scarlett situation going up here?”

“Not well,” Joe said.

“You know Arlen’s the majority floor leader, right?”

Joe nodded, trying to keep up.

“He explained everything to me after the session. About his brother and all. What a clusterfuck that is, eh?” Then he glanced in the rearview mirror and said, “Sorry for the inappropriate language, ma’am.”

“It’s quite all right,” Marybeth said. “It’s a perfect description.”

“JESUS CHRIST!” the governor howled, hitting the brakes. “Did I just drive through a red light back there?”

Joe said, “Yes. It’s our only one.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you say something?” Rulon asked. “Why did you just sit there and watch me do it? And when did Saddlestring get a light?”

“We were through it before I could say anything.”

“Don’t let me do that again.”

Joe snorted. “I’ll do my best, sir.”

“I’m still getting used to my new ride,” Rulon said, patting the dashboard as if it were the head of a dog. “Pretty nice, eh? It gets twelve miles a gallon, a real gas-guzzler. A couple of my supporters asked me how I could drive a car like this when I’m a Democrat and I’m for energy conservation and the like. I explained to them I’m a Wyoming Democrat, which means I’m a Republican who just wants to be different and stand out from the crowd, and we’ve got a hell of a lot of oil in this state we want to sell at high prices. Besides, it’s comfortable, ain’t it?”

Joe nodded, wishing the governor had not fired his driver.

“You should see the state plane. It’s really a dandy. I didn’t think I’d use it much, but this state is so damned big it’s really a blessing.”

“I can imagine.”

“So, I’ve got a question for you,” Rulon said. “An important question I’ve been wanting to ask you since I got this job.”

Joe was surprised the governor even knew of him, much less actually thought about him.

“What’s it like working for Randy Pope?”

Joe thought, uh-oh. He did not want to be put in the position of talking about his boss to the governor. Besides, what Joe thought was no secret. His allegations about Pope were in the report he had submitted after he returned from Jackson Hole.

“Actually, that’s not the question,” Rulon continued. “That’s a question. The question is still to come.”

As he said it, he rolled down his window again and shouted at a woman carrying groceries from her car toward the door of her town house.

“Hey, you want some help?” he shouted at her. “I can send over a trooper if you do!”