Out of Range

"Do you walk your dog every night?" Joe asked.

The man nodded. "As long as the weather doesn't keep us in."

Joe's mind was spi

THIRTY-FOUR

There were Secret Service agents in addition to armed security guards checking invitations at the front gate of the E

A security guard shone a flashlight into Joe's face and asked him to remove his driver's license from his wallet.

"I know you," the guard said, seeing his name. "You're the guy who shot Smoke Van Horn."

Joe nodded and looked away. A Secret Service agent stepped from behind the guard and walked around the front of the truck to the passenger side and opened the door. The agent was lean and young, with an earpiece and cord that snaked down into his jacket. "Are there weapons in this truck?" he asked, looking around inside.

"Standard issue," Joe said, pointing out the carbine under the seat, the shotgun in the gunrack, the cracker shell pistol in the glove box. He was glad he'd left his holster and weapon in the statehouse.

"This is a problem," the agent said, stepping back and speaking into a microphone in his sleeve.

Joe waited, and several cars pulled up behind him.

Finally, the agent climbed into the cab with Joe and shut the door. "Sorry for the inconvenience, but the vice president will be here soon. We'll need to park you away from the premises," he said. "I'll walk you to the front door, and I'll need your keys while you're inside. When you're ready to go tonight, just tell one of my colleagues and I'll meet you at the front door and walk you back to your truck."

The E

A tall man with silver hair and a dark tan-Pete Illoway, the Good Meat guru-broke out of one of the knots of people and strode across the floor with his hand held out to Joe in a showy way. Cautiously, Joe took his hand, wondering what he wanted, while Illoway leaned into him.

"Good work up in those mountains, Mr. Pickett," Illoway said, pumping Joe's hand. "Smoke Van Horn will notbe missed. He was an anachronism, and the valley had passed him by."

Joe said nothing, not accepting the praise nor refuting it, thinking about when Smoke had called himself an "arachnidism."

"May I buy you a drink, sir?" Illoway asked.

"That's okay, I can get it myself," Joe said.

Illoway smiled paternalistically, then signaled a bartender and pointed to Joe.

"Bourbon and water, please," he said.

Don E

"Glad you could make it, Mr. Pickett," E

Joe wondered what he meant by that.

"Everyone's talking about the incident up in the Thorofare," E

"Was it really a gunfight like in the movies?" Illoway asked eagerly.

Joe shook his head. "Not really. It was pretty bad," he said, the image coming back of Smoke's vacant eyes, the way he chanted, It really hurts, it really hurts, it really hurts.

"Well done," E

"I said it was bad," Joe snapped back. "It isn't something I'm proud of or something you two should be so damned pleased about."

"But it couldn't have happened to a better guy," Illoway said, raising his glass as if he hadn't heard a word Joe said. "He was an absolute asshole, if you'll pardon my French. Totally against Beargrass Village, and very vocal about it in public meetings. He was Old World, not New World, if you know what I mean."

"Speaking of," E

Joe had been waiting for this. What he wasn't expecting was to find out Illoway and E

"I still haven't filed my recommendation," Joe said evenly, "but I'm going to recommend that the concept not go forward unless you install some gates or bridges so the wildlife can migrate. We can't have a situation where the game is forced to cross the highway to get to lower ground. That would be dangerous to drivers and to the herds."

Something dark and cold passed over E

"You're fucking kidding me," E

"Nope," Joe said. "It's the same recommendation Will Jensen was going to make, as you know. I found his last notebook where he came to that conclusion."

Illoway reached for E

"Don …" Illoway cautioned E

Joe shrugged. "Sure, it's possible. But I don't think you can have a perfectly controlled environment in the middle of wild country. A wise man once told me that real nature is complicated and messy." He enjoyed saying that, but tried not to smile.

"Who was that?" Illoway asked; he looked offended by the thought.

"Smoke Van Horn," Joe said, "the night before I shot him."

"I thought you were smarter than Jensen," E

Joe looked at E

E

"No, we're not," Joe said evenly. "You and I have a lot to discuss."

Illoway looked at Joe and shook his head sadly. "What are you trying to do here? And what did you mean when you said we knew what Will Jensen's decision was going to be?"