Out of Range

"She's a loose ca

"Can you think of another way?" Joe asked.

Tassell hesitated. "No."

Joe opened the door and went back to the counter, Pi and Birdy looking at him expectantly.

"Are we still on?" Birdy asked.

"We're on," Joe said.

"Let's get this son of a bitch," Pi said, her eyes dancing.

Joe sat down, filled with sudden doubt. It had taken him over an hour to convince Tassell to try this, and the sheriff had reluctantly agreed, but only after talking with the county attorney. Tassell was concerned that Pi and Birdy's animal rights agenda was so vehement that they would do or say anythingto implicate their target. Every word that was said, every inference, would be recorded on audio- and videotape to be scrutinized by lawyers and judges in what could be a hostile court. Looking at the glee in Pi's face, Joe wasn't so sure the sheriff wasn't right.

Joe sat at the counter across from Pi and Birdy while Pi arranged the speaker phone in front of them. His assignment was to coach them through the phone call if necessary, and to warn them if they got into dangerous territory. Joe handed her the business card he had received a couple of weeks before, the one that read: "Welcome to town. I worked with Will. I'll be in touch."

As she punched the buttons, Joe turned to Tassell, his deputy, the Radio Shack owner, and Trey, and placed his finger to his lips. They all nodded back.

After three rings, a receptionist answered, "Beargrass Village."

"May I speak to Don E

"Who may I ask is calling?"

"Pi Stevenson and Birdy Richards," she said, looking up at Joe and smiling. "It's extremely important."

"Hold, please." There was a click and the silence was filled with soft classical music.

Joe turned and raised his eyebrows at the Radio Shack owner and the deputy, who both wore headphones. Both men turned thumbs up. The recording equipment was working.

"Come on the line, you bastard," Pi said, curling her lip.

Joe shushed her.

"He's an asshole," she said. "What if he doesn't take our call?"

Joe shrugged and gestured toward the phone. He didn't want to get into a discussion with her that could be overheard if the receptionist suddenly came back on the line.

"He's probably sitting in his lounge chair eating raw flesh," Pi said, and Birdy giggled.

Joe looked at them both with exasperation.

But when the receptionist picked up, Pi was all business.

"Mr. E

Joe saw a spark in Pi's eyes as she said, "I suggest you wake him up. This call concerns the traumatic event. Again, it's extremely important that we talk to him."

Uh-oh,Joe thought, trying to catch her eye. Don't go any further with it.

The receptionist hesitated. Joe could almost see her trying to figure out what to do.

"This is something Mr. E

"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 E

Pi mimed the act of reeling in a fish while she spoke: "Mr. E

"Is there somebody there with you?" E

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. E

"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. E

"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 E

"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?" E

"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," E

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 E

"Mr. E

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

"Jesus Fucking Christ," E

"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?" E

"Sell them?" Pi said i

"You know what I'm talking about," E

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