Long Range (Joe Pickett Book 20)(60)
Joe and Marybeth took seats in the back row. It was a very small crowd. He recognized reporters from the Casper Star— Tribune, K-TWO radio, the Billings Gazette, and a twentysomething from the local Saddlestring Roundup. A skeletal-looking man with long wispy hair set up his digital recorder on the podium. He wore a name badge identifying himself as representing a statewide web news service Joe had never heard of.
The Roundup reporter, whom Marybeth knew from when she used to intern at the library, saw them sitting in the back and approached them.
“Hello, Mrs. Pickett,” the former intern said.
“Alyssa, this is my husband, Joe. Joe, Alyssa. She’s been working at the Roundup for what, nine months?”
“A year,” Alyssa said. She was redhaired and Sheridan’s age. Alyssa had a camera with a long lens looped around her neck and she grasped an open reporter’s notebook.
“Did you see what happened outside?” Alyssa asked Marybeth.
“No, we just got here.”
“Look,” Alyssa said, and she turned the camera around so both Joe and Marybeth could see the digital screen. Alyssa scrolled through a series of photos: Nate arriving in the sheriff’s SUV, Nate climbing out of the vehicle with his hands cuffed and with a contemptuous expression on his face, Nate walking up the courthouse steps flanked by Deputies Steck and Woods with Sheriff Kapelow leading the way, Nate passing close by Alyssa and her camera with his chin held high.
“It’s a perp walk,” Alyssa said. “That’s what a couple of the reporters called it. It’s my first, and I got some really good pictures, don’t you think?”
Joe could imagine them on the front page of the paper.
“The sheriff didn’t have to do that,” he said to Marybeth.
“Poor Liv,” she replied.
*
AT 10:00 A.M. SHARP, the back door to the room opened and Sheriff Kapelow blew through it with a stern look on his face. Joe noted Kapelow had changed into an unrumpled uniform and he wore a flawless silverbelly cowboy hat with the brim folded so sharply it looked like it could draw blood. He looked serious and professional, Joe thought.
Behind him, Judge Hewitt, Duane Patterson, and Deputies Woods and Steck came out. The judge and the prosecutor flanked Kapelow on one side and the deputies on the other. No doubt, Joe thought, Kapelow had instructed them where to stand when they entered the room for maximum photographic impact. He was surprised the judge had agreed to the choreography.
“Greetings, ladies and gentlemen of the press,” Kapelow read from a statement he’d placed on the podium. “I’m here to announce a significant development in our investigation regarding the attempted murders of two of our county law enforcement officials, namely Judge Hewitt and prosecutor Duane Patterson. I’d ask that you hold your questions until the end of the briefing.”
Joe looked up at the assemblage and was confused by what he saw. Judge Hewitt looked red-eyed and hollowed out, and he bent over slightly at the waist as if recovering from a gut punch. He had none of the swagger Joe was used to. Patterson looked even worse. The county prosecutor averted his eyes from the press when he wasn’t clamping them tightly, as if to stave off a breakdown. He swayed slightly as he stood, as if he were a reed in the wind.
“What’s wrong with them?” Marybeth whispered to Joe.
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“This morning,” Kapelow continued, “a suspect was apprehended here in Twelve Sleep County by my team and a very specific rifle was found on the suspect’s property. The weapon is being tested to confirm that it was used in the shootings and it will be later sent to the state crime lab in Cheyenne to verify our findings.
“The suspect is an on-and-off resident of the county who has long been a person of interest in this and other crimes,” Kapelow said.
“Bullshit,” Marybeth hissed.
“I’m not at liberty at this time to provide a name for the suspect until he’s been formally charged,” Kapelow said. “You’ll know when that happens.”
Kapelow looked up from his statement and turned to his deputies. “At this time, I’d like to publicly thank the dedicated members of my department for their hard work and long hours . . .”
He went on for a while and Joe tuned out. Kapelow was performing a dance that irritated Joe whenever it took place: the over-the-top press conference where the actual case took a backseat to self-congratulatory speeches by the law enforcement officials who were present. After several minutes of thanking his deputies and staff and “support from the police department,” Kapelow looked up from his notes and directly at Joe.
He said, “We have a suspect in custody because we did excellent by-the-book police work. It’s unfortunate that our efforts were hampered by others who questioned our every move and interfered with our investigation.”
With that, several of the reporters turned in their seats and looked over their shoulders at Joe, who’d been singled out. He felt his face get hot.
“At this point in the proceedings,” Kapelow said, “I’d like to turn the briefing over to Dr. Arthur from the hospital. He’s present to announce another significant development in the case.”
It took Joe a moment to recover from the sheriff’s accusations so he didn’t get the gist of the doctor’s first words. All he knew was that Kapelow had stepped aside the podium and his place had been taken by Arthur.