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Larry said, “I don’t purchase toner or anything else for the office, lady. I’m a detective for the sheriff’s department, for crying out loud. I’ve got important work to do.” And slammed his phone down.

* * *

Cody called back three minutes later to find out Larry’s cell phone had been turned off.

Cody closed his phone, puzzled. Larry never turned off his phone. So either Bodean was still in the room or something else was going on. What?

Cody’s phone went off. He looked at the display. It was an unknown number but had the Montana 406 area code.

“Yes,” Cody said.

“Me,” Larry said. By the background traffic noises from Larry’s cell, Cody guessed his partner had taken a walk outside.

“Don’t call me on my cell or the office number again,” Larry said. “They don’t know you’re gone. There can’t be a record of calls between us on either phone. And if they ask me if I’ve heard from you, I’ll tell them the truth. I can’t lie for you, Cody.”

“I understand. So what is this phone you’re using?”

“You know, it’s one I borrowed,” Larry stammered.

“You’re learning.” Cody smiled to himself. He remembered the afternoon when he showed Larry how many phones there were in the evidence room, each tagged for specific cases. Some still had a battery charge left. He’d told Larry how, down in Denver, he’d used confiscated phones to make calls that couldn’t be traced back to him and sometimes, to aggravate a criminal, he’d call random numbers in Bolivia and Ecuador just to run up astronomical phone charges.

“So, where are you?” Larry asked.

Cody sighed. “I made it as far as Townsend and an HP trooper picked me up and marched me back to town for that fucking missing headlight.”

Larry laughed. “Townsend? That’s all the further you got? You’re kidding.”

“So I spent the night bouncing off the walls of the Lariat Motor Lodge. I’d recommend it only because it’s probably the last place in America that still has black-and-white TVs in the rooms and bedspreads that remind you of your grandmother’s house.”

“You should have stayed home,” Larry said.

Cody grunted, “No way. I’ll be back on the road in a few minutes.”

Larry sighed.

“Have you heard anything back from ViCAP or RMIN?”

“Sort of,” Larry said. “RMIN is running the police reports from the most recent victim in Jackson Hole and they’ll be getting back to me. The case was classified as an accident but it sounds, well, real familiar. A woman named Karen Anthony, forty-six, divorced and living alone, was found dead in her home outside of Wilson. Same deal, Cody. Her place was burned down around her and she was found the next day underneath the debris. Head injuries the likely cause of death.”

Cody said, “Anything like what we’ve got in terms of an open stove, or the bottle?”

“Nope. The evidence so far doesn’t match up to ours. But the circumstances of the death ring true.”

Cody walked down the empty sidewalk, pacing. He noticed a face watching him from the window of the Commercial Bar. It was the cowboy he’d seen enter earlier. The man tipped his hat and took a deep drink from a beer mug as if to taunt him. The cowboy was drinking a red beer-spiced tomato juice and Bud Light. Cody used to start the day with one. Its properties were magical.

“Bastard,” Cody said.

“What?” Larry asked.

“Not you. What did Karen Anthony do? What was her job?”

“Let’s see,” Larry said. “Okay, here. She was an independent hospital consultant. Had her own firm, and apparently a pretty successful one. She had an office in Jackson and one in Denver, Minneapolis, and Omaha.”

Cody rubbed his face. “One of the victims was from Minnesota, right? Is there a connection there?”

“I don’t know. We’re too early in this thing. I’ve got a telephone meeting scheduled with an analyst at ViCAP later today so maybe we’ll be able to establish a link of some kind. The only thing I can figure, obviously, is Winters was a pharma guy and Karen Anthony was a hospital consultant. So maybe they worked together somehow or knew each other. But it’ll take a hell of a lot more digging.”

“Yeah,” Cody said. “We still don’t know anything about the Minnesota and Virginia deaths. They could be connected to these two or not. ViCAP might be able to help with that.”

Larry said, “And Cody, nothing really connects Winters and Anthony yet except for the burned-down houses and the proximity of the dates. This thread is so thin.…”

“I know,” Cody said. “Keep me posted, okay? My cell should work all day until I get to Yellowstone.”

“So you’re still going,” Larry said.

“Damn right. Hey-did you get in touch with Jed McCarthy’s office yet?”

Larry paused while a diesel vehicle passed him, the engine hammering away. Then: “I’ve left two more messages to call me.”

Cody stopped. “You haven’t asked the Bozeman PD to roust it? Come on, Larry!”

Silence. Then it dawned on Cody but Larry spoke before he had a chance to apologize.