Dark Sky (Joe Pickett #21)(85)

“That’s not all,” Price said. “Last night in that shack, Boedecker tore me a new asshole. It was just relentless abuse, Joe. That’s never happened to me in my entire life—to be treated with such contempt and disdain like that. I’ve testified before Congress and they were gentle compared to that. It made me realize that Boedecker probably isn’t the only person out here who thinks like that.

“These people don’t respect what I’ve done and they don’t have a filter. They don’t understand that I live in a different world, even though you tried to show me a new one. Joe, I’ve gone from being scared to death of germs and viruses a few days ago to having my life threatened by violent men and getting ripped up by a fucking wolverine! And trying to brain some mouth-breather with a rock. I don’t ever want to experience those feelings again.”

Price sat back. “No, I need to be with my own kind.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s okay,” Price said. “Your governor thought that maybe I’d have such a good experience that I’d want to urge my team to build here. That’s how things are in my world: everybody wants something from me. It is what it is.”

Joe couldn’t argue with that.

“This is the last elk hunt I’ll ever go on,” Price said.

“They aren’t all like this,” Joe replied.

“I hope not.”

“I was really hoping you’d be more open to the governor’s request,” Joe said. “I’m being purely selfish here. He all but threatened me and my department if it didn’t go well for you. And it didn’t go well for you at all.”

Price placed his phone screen down on his lap. It was an immense concession, Joe thought.

“Tell your governor something for me,” Price said, his mouth tightening. “Tell him if he goes after you in any way that I’ll sue him. I’ll destroy him and his administration. Tell him I think he put me in a position where I lost two of my people and nearly lost my own life because of his negligence. I can throw an army of lawyers at him that will keep him and his administration tied up in court for the rest of his natural life. Tell him that.”

Joe didn’t know how to reply.

“I owe you a well of thanks,” Price said. “You’re not selfish at all. I know you could have given me up at any time with no cost to you. No one would have even known about it. But you didn’t.”

“I . . . I just did my job,” Joe said, stammering.

“That wasn’t your job,” Price said. “You went so far beyond your job I’ll forever be grateful. I want to reward you if I can.”

“You can’t,” Joe said.

Price made an I don’t take no for an answer face. He dug in a side pocket of his seat until he found a crumpled blank envelope and a pen. With writing that scrawled with the vibration of the rotors, he scratched out a message and folded it in half and placed it facedown on his lap next to his phone.

“When we land, I’m giving you this. You have to accept it and you can’t hand it back,” Price said. “I’ll tell my people to be ready for your call.”

“What is it?”

Price ignored the question. Instead, he tapped out a quick message telling his millions of followers that he was alive and well and that the hunting trip was a “tragic misadventure.” Joe could see the screen because they were in such close proximity.

Then Price wrote: More to come . . .



* * *



—

As the helicopter descended to the tarmac and Joe could see Price’s Gulfstream taxiing over to meet them, Price said, “You’re a good man, Joe Pickett. I can’t say I’ve met many like you. It warms my heart to know men like you still exist.”

Joe looked away, his face flushing hot.

Before Price unbuckled his seat belt and exited the aircraft, he turned and handed the envelope to Joe.

“Take it,” he said.

Joe did, reluctantly. Then Price was gone.

He bounded up the stairs of the jet with more energy than Joe would have imagined the man still had. Before the stairs telescoped up and the door was closed, Price turned and took a last look at the mountains, the sky, and Joe, who was still seated in the helicopter.

Price shouted, “Nature sucks!” Joe couldn’t hear the words because of the jet engines wrapping up. But he could read his lips.

Joe unfolded the envelope and read it. Then he read it again.

In a childlike wavery script, it said:

    I.O.U., Joe Pickett

100,0000 First-Class Shares of Aloft Corp.

Signed,

Steve-2 a.k.a. Steven Price, CEO



He slid the envelope into the back pocket of his Wranglers and stiffly climbed out of the helicopter to solid ground. He was stunned.

Joe thought, Won’t Marybeth be surprised?





THIRTY


Nate drove home in the borrowed pickup with the now-empty horse trailer clattering along behind him and raising a cloud of dust. As he did, he dug out the cell phone Liv had insisted he take along and powered it up.

The screen showed four missed calls, all from Liv. They’d come within a five-minute stretch two hours before. None came after. She’d not left a message.