The high whine of all-terrain vehicles split open the morning quiet. He watched with interest as two, three, four ATVs shot across the stream below and started up the mountain to meet up with him. There were multiple people on each vehicle, as well as electronic equipment.

Not just electronic equipment: cameras.

He pulled the reins on his horse and jumped off. He wished he could see his face in a mirror, but he couldn’t. But he did his best. He spat on his hands and scrubbed his face, then dried and cleaned himself with his shirttails. Judging by the gray smudges on the fabric he tucked back into his jeans, it was a good idea. He wanted to look rugged, but not dirty.

The ATVs were getting close. He found an extra horse bit in his saddlebag and shined it under his arm. Farkus leaned into the bend of the metal and the reflection, and he patted down his hair and made himself look weary and sympathetic.

And before the ATVs cleared the timber, he remounted, clicked his tongue, and got the animal moving again. The first ATV stopped just outside the trees, and a disheveled man jumped out and set up a tripod and put a camera on top of it under the arm-waving direction of a blonde who-no kidding-was the best-looking woman Farkus had ever seen in real life. She was tall, slim, coiffed, with large breasts and wore cool boots that she’d tucked her tight jeans into.

He thought, Whoa.

Although she was a long way down the mountain and other TV crews were making their way up, she took a second to look up and meet his eyes. He felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him.

He thought, I’m from Baggs, but I’ve watched television. Hundreds of fucking hours of television. I’ve seen hundreds like you. You’re stuck in Wyoming, trying to claw your way up. You need something spectacular for your audition tape. I can give that to you, darling. I can give that to you.

So when she reached him on her ATV, he began to smile. He thought, I know a hell of a lot more about you than you will ever know about me.

And the first thing he said was, “I’ve been in the heart of the right-wing crazies. I was there for everything and I saw everything. Remember the Cline Family? Diane Shober?”

Her eyes lit up. He pressed on. “But before we talk, I want to negotiate a deal with you. I want to be on TV. I want to be an expert on right-wing fringe groups and the anger in small-town America. I want to get paid and stay in nice hotels. And if we can work it out, you get the exclusive.”

She smiled at the word “exclusive.” She said, “I need a sign-off from the suits, but I can pretty much promise you a deal. Now, let’s get out of here before anyone else can talk to you.”

Farkus thought, I may have just found my calling.

Before the mounted riders from the trailhead could reach them-dozens streamed up the trail-Joe reached back and got his satellite phone and called the governor’s direct line.

Rulon’s chief of staff, Carson, came to the phone.

“The governor’s in an emergency meeting,” Carson said. “He asked me to talk with you. We understand you killed those brothers and rescued Diane Shober. That’s outstanding.”

Joe grunted.

“And we’ve got good news of our own,” Carson said. “Senator McKinty of Michigan announced this morning he’s not running for reelection. We don’t have a reason. He’s been our biggest impediment for years now. The governor’s ecstatic.”

“Interesting,” Joe said.

“Look, you need to be available this evening. The governor’s planning a press conference about the rescue and he wants you here. He’s going to make you a hero, Joe.”

“Nope,” Joe said.

Carson coughed. “But you area hero. We want the state to know. We want the countryto know.”

As Carson talked, Joe glanced over to make sure there was no sign of Nate. They were gone. He didn’t know if he’d ever see Diane again, and wondered where Nate would take her. And how would he and Nate go on?

Finally, he said, “They aren’t with me.”

After a long pause, Carson said, “Who isn’t with you?”

“Diane Shober. I let her go.”

Carson stammered, “I’m not sure what to say. The governor is going to be very disappointed in you, Joe. Very disappointed.”

He shrugged, even though Carson had no idea what he was doing. Joe said, “He’s not the only one.”

He rode down the trail to meet the throng of law enforcement personnel, media, and hangers-on who waited for him. At the side of the crowd he saw Brent and Jenna Shober. They looked anxious.

Something flashed in his peripheral vision as he rode and he cocked his head. The lone wolf again, bidding him good-bye. He wondered how long they’d been tracked.

He turned in the saddle to make sure the bodies of the brothers were still tightly bound to the packhorses.

He thought: They were under control, at last. McKinty, Brent Shober, and Bobby Mc Cue would be pleased.

The sun doused as massive black thunderheads rolled across the sky. Storm coming.