Long Range (Joe Pickett Book 20)(58)

Nate read Joe well enough to know that his friend wanted to argue with him about what he’d just said. But he didn’t want to do it in front of Sheriff Kapelow.

At that moment, Deputy Steck shouted from the mews.

“Boss! Come look at this.”

“What is it?” Kapelow asked.

Nate watched as the deputy pulled a long parcel from beneath the floorboards of the shack. It was wrapped in a blanket.

When it was unfurled, Steck held up the heavy high-tech rifle with its massive scope. He opened the bolt and sniffed it. “It’s been recently fired,” he said.

“Well, what do you know?” Kapelow said with a grin. Then to Nate: “I don’t know how you thought you’d get away with it.”

Nate shook his head and said, “I’ve never seen that weapon in my life. Somebody planted it there.”

“I’m calling Marybeth,” Joe said while raising his phone to his ear. “I’ll see how fast Kink Beran and Rulon can get here.”

*

OVER TWO MILES AWAY, Orlando Panfile watched the activities at the Romanowski falconry compound with great interest through his spotting scope.





PART THREE


So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

—William Shakespeare, Hamlet





SEVENTEEN


TWO HOURS LATER, JOE SAT ACROSS THE TABLE FROM Marybeth in the Twelve Sleep County Library conference room with the doors closed and the blinds drawn. Marybeth’s phone was on the table between them.

“How did you get this?” he asked her.

“Let’s just say friends in the sheriff’s department,” she replied.

Marybeth opened a voice memo she’d received via email on her phone and turned the volume up.

An oddly distorted deep male voice said, “The guy you’re looking for in the shooting of Sue Hewitt and Duane Patterson is named Nate Romanowski. He’s a local and you can look him up. The rifle he used in both shootings is stashed on his property where he keeps his falcons.”

There was a long pause and Joe could hear the caller struggling for breath. Then he continued.

“Don’t bother trying to trace this call or identify me. Consider me just a helpful witness who wants to stay anonymous. I won’t admit to making this call and I won’t testify to how I know all of this. This guy has been operating in plain sight under your noses the whole time. He’s a killer. If you don’t believe me, just look him up. I want nothing to do with him. But once you’ve found the gun, you shouldn’t need me anyway.”

“Please play it again,” Joe asked. He listened as carefully as he could.

“I don’t recognize the voice at all,” Joe said. “The guy sounds drunk or on something.”

“I think neither,” Marybeth said. “He’s using some kind of voice-altering software. There are apps available and they’re really easy to download to your phone.”

“Man,” Joe said, sitting back. “This whole thing went from zero to a hundred really fast.”

“You don’t think Nate had anything to do with it, do you?” Marybeth asked him.

“Nope.”

But despite Joe’s certainty, there was an intrusive kernel of doubt. Although he’d had a long friendship with Nate and they’d been in so many situations together, Nate had always been unpredictable and eccentric in his own way. Not only had Nate sat naked on branches observing wildlife, he’d also spent hours submerged in the river to “experience what it was like to be a fish.” And there was no doubt Nate was capable of taking violent action when he felt it warranted. Nate was known for ripping the ears off of men he was angry with. His friend had a clearly defined sense of justice that had very little to do with the actual law. Nate hadn’t ever hesitated to punish those he thought were guilty. But that was in the past, Joe thought.

Even then, when Nate was off the grid and operating at times like a rogue vigilante, he hadn’t been sneaky or subtle about his actions. It wasn’t his style to hide in the shadows and ambush someone. Nate wanted his target to know who had come after him and why.

And that was before Liv, Kestrel, and Yarak, Inc.

It was also before the long-range sniper rifle was discovered on Nate’s property.

“So who do you think left that message?” Marybeth asked Joe. She had absolutely no doubt about Nate’s innocence, which was no surprise.

“Nate suspects Jeremiah Sandburg,” Joe said. “The ex-FBI guy who paid him a visit.”

“Maybe,” Marybeth said with a doubtful shrug. “I suspect someone local, though. The caller assumes the sheriff’s department is familiar with Nate and where he lives. And he was right.”

Joe nodded. He thought, Good point.

He said, “If we can find the caller, I think we’ll find the real shooter. Does the sheriff’s department have any way of tracing the call?”

“Yes, but it’s no help,” she said. “The call was placed from an untraceable burner phone using a local cell tower. No doubt the burner’s been disposed of by now.”

“That’s interesting,” Joe said. “It shows some real planning by whoever made the call.

“The other big question,” he continued, “is when the rifle was planted. That’s a tough one. Nate is usually at work during the day, but Liv has stayed close to home since the baby came. If Nate and Liv go somewhere together, their nanny is home with Kestrel. Whoever planted the rifle knew enough about all of their habits that he used a short window of time when all of them were gone or distracted to hide the weapon. Either that, or he managed to come on the property during the night without anyone hearing him. Since it’s just been a couple of days since Sue got shot, he must have done it during the last forty-eight hours.”