In Plain Sight

“Sheridan said she had a dream about something similar to Tommy’s. She said Opal was alive out on the ranch.”

Robey stared. “A dream, Joe?”

“Hey,” Joe said, raising his hand. “I know. But Sheridan’s had some dreams that turned out to be pretty accurate. She’s like Nate Romanowski that way,” he said, wishing immediately he hadn’t brought Nate into it.

“Speaking of . . .”

“Nothing,” Joe said. “Honestly. Not a word.”

MARYBETH CAME DOWN the stairs in her robe. Her blond hair was mussed. Joe could see one bare foot and ankle and she looked particularly attractive standing there. He was suddenly ready for Robey to head home.

“Are you guys about finished?” she asked.

Joe said, “Yup.” He was glad he was the one staying. He wondered if Robey had the same thought and guessed that he did. Go away, Robey, Joe thought.

“Did Tommy have anything interesting to say?”

Robey chuckled. “That was the problem, Marybeth. He had so many interesting things to say—so many versions—that in the end he had nothing. It was a waste of time.”

“Maybe I should have called Nancy to come get him,” she said.

“You did the right thing.”

“He scared us when we saw him out there,” she said. “With all the things that have been happening around here, we’re a little jumpy.”

“I understand,” Robey said.

Joe said nothing. It made him angry to think about it.

He saw Robey to the door. As they passed his office, Joe said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that search warrant for Hank’s place. Do we have it yet?”

Robey turned, his face wary. “You haven’t heard?”

“Not a thing.”

“Judge Pennock refused to issue it.”

“What?”

Robey nodded. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. The judge said we needed probable cause, that the anonymous tip wasn’t enough to search a man’s home. Even though you transcribed the call real well.”

Joe was confused. He’d never had a search warrant refused before.

“Judge Pennock and Hank are friends,” Joe said.

“I’m afraid so. I didn’t realize it before. They must be pretty close.”

Joe snorted. “If they are close, Pennock would have recused himself. It’s got to be more than that.”

“I don’t even want to speculate, Joe,” Robey said cautiously. “I have to appear before Judge Pennock all the time. I can’t push this one too hard or he could make my life miserable.”

“Can’t we go over his head?”

Robey suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “We could, but I hesitate to do so.”

“You ‘hesitate to do so’?” Robey’s choice of words was so formal and bureaucratic that Joe repeated them.

“Look, Joe,” Robey said, “there are things I will go to the mat with, as you know. There are some subjects, for example, I won’t discuss with you because I don’t want to know the answers. But this fight between Hank and Arlen . . . I don’t know. It’s so dirty, and so . . .” He searched for a word. “. . . epic, you know? I’m not sure how hard I want to come down on either side. And we’re just talking about what? The possibility someone may have taken some animals out of season? That’s not even a felony.”

As Robey talked, Joe felt his anger rise.

“How about if we try to enforce the law,” Joe said. “You know, on a lark?”

“Joe . . .”

“Enforcing Game and Fish regulations is what I do, Robey. I take it seriously, because I’ve learned if a man will do something illegal or unethical out in the field when no one is looking, he’s capable of anything, no matter who he claims to be, or how big a man he is in the county.”

Robey sighed, reached out, and put his hand on Joe’s shoulder to calm him. “Joe, sometimes I think you take things a little too far, you know? It seems like you think bad character is a crime. Again, we’re talking about some game animals that might have been poached.”

“No,” Joe said. “We’re talking about looking the other way because we don’t want to appear to take sides in a conflict. Well, I’m not taking sides, and I’m not looking away. I’m doing my job.”

Robey shook his head. The silence grew uncomfortable.

“I’ll run it by Tucker Fagan in Park County,” Robey finally said, sighing, referring to the new judge there. “Thunderhead is so big it’s in Park also, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you, Robey.”

“Good night, Joe. Sometimes you piss me off.”

JOE AND MARYBETH lay in bed facing each other. They talked softly so the girls wouldn’t hear them. Marybeth’s reading lamp was on low and the light cast a buttery glow on the side of her face and softly illuminated her blond hair. As they talked she stroked his forearm, rubbing it with her thumb.

She had broached the subject about moving the girls to the ranch. Joe had grunted at the idea.

“I know you don’t like it,” Marybeth said. “Frankly, neither do I. But if this continues . . .”