“You say that,” she said, mischievously, as if she knew better.
“Really,” he said. “But I appreciate the effort.”
“Of course,” she said. “Like I said, it’s a new day. There are people who thought easing out people like you might be the best thing for the department as we begin our transformation.”
Joe said, “Who are these people who are always saying things?”
“Never mind that,” she said dismissively. “The governor thinks the world of you.”
“He does?”
“He told me so himself. He also made a reference to some special work you did for him once, but he didn’t get specific.”
“I see,” Joe said, not elaborating. If the governor hadn’t told her how the arrangement had worked and what he’d done for him, Joe took that as a cue not to tell her, either.
“Where is the governor, by the way?” Joe asked, looking around. Both the restaurant and the lobby were vacant.
“Oh, he’s here,” she said. “We checked in together last night. At the same time, I should say.” She rolled her eyes and blushed at the implication, even though Joe hadn’t made it. “So I suspect he’s working in his room or meeting with local officials. You can’t imagine how stressful it is to run an agency like mine, much less the entire state.”
Joe could imagine. He wished, though, that LGD would stop referring to “her” agency, “her” team, and “her” staff. He hoped it was a matter of semantics.
Instead, he said, “And what do you mean by transformation?” He was thinking of Bill Haley’s decision to retire.
She said, “I’ve reviewed the duties of a game warden. It’s supposed to be one-third resource management, one-third landowner and community relations, and one-third law enforcement, right?”
“Right.”
“What I see, though, is most wardens skew heavily on law enforcement at the expense of the other two. And wildlife appreciation needs to figure somewhere in that mix.”
He nodded cautiously, agreeing but wondering where she was going.
“I want to change the agency for the better, Joe, and I’m asking you for your support.”
“My support?”
“I’m creating a new position: field liaison. The field liaison would serve directly under me and be my eyes, ears, and advocate for new policy with game wardens and biologists across the state. I know how hardheaded and set in their ways many of these men can be, but they might be persuaded if someone they know and trust-and admire-fills the position. Someone who has been where they are and knows their issues. That someone would be you.”
Joe said, “You’re offering me a new job?”
“You don’t have to answer right now, but I want you to really think hard about it. Believe me, there are people in Cheyenne at headquarters who think I’m crazy. You are not the most popular guy with some of them. They point to your record with state-issued vehicles, for example. But as far as the game wardens go-I haven’t heard a bad word. They would listen to what you have to say.”
Joe didn’t respond.
She continued, “Your salary would increase by eighteen thousand dollars, and you’d move up two grades.”
“Where is the job based?”
“Cheyenne, of course. I even have an office picked out next to mine, and we can share the same administrative staff.”
“Cheyenne?”
“That’s where our office is.”
Joe had done his best over the years to avoid trips to headquarters. He knew several old game wardens who prided themselves on never darkening the halls of the agency building for their entire careers.
“I’m flattered you asked me,” Joe said, “but I really have to think this through and talk to my wife. She’s got a business deal going here right now.”
“Of course you should talk with her,” LGD said. “I wouldn’t expect anything different.”
“I need to hear a lot more about the changes you’re proposing,” Joe said. “I would be a lousy advocate if I didn’t agree with them.”
“Of course,” she said, sitting back. “We’ll have time for that later. But one thing I’m adamant about is reducing the number of wardens in the field and replacing them with people more attuned to new thinking.”
He looked at her. “Are you saying my job might go away?”
“Nothing is set in stone.”
She leaned forward across the table, and her eyes got even bigger. “Joe, this is the twenty-first century, and it’s time for a new paradigm. It isn’t the Wild West anymore, and hasn’t been for quite some time. I realize that it used to be that game wardens out in the field were given almost complete autonomy, and that probably worked back when Game and Fish meant Guts and Feathers. But we all need to realize we’re not just here to check hunting licenses anymore. We’re here to save and protect a precious resource.”
Joe said, “You think all we do is check hunting licenses?”
“No, of course not, but we can get into all that later,” Greene-Dempsey said. “Along with your plans to recover another department vehicle that I understand is still stuck somewhere in the mountains?”
“In a snowfield,” Joe said. “I need to get it out.”
“Yes, you do,” she said, her face turning hard for a split second before recovering. “But first you need to know that I pledged Mr. Batista and Mr. Underwood our full cooperation in their investigative efforts. By extension, that means you.”
Joe whistled.
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
MayVonne arrived with his breakfast, and he started on it while Greene-Dempsey sent her plate back and asked the waitress to bring one with only the freshest fruit. MayVonne took another deep breath and stomped off toward the kitchen.
“They’re too heavy-handed,” Joe said when LGD asked about the status of the investigation. “I realize a terrible crime has taken place and we need to find the bad guy. But the way this Batista is going about it. .”
“They’re doing what they think they need to do,” she said. “And we’ve pledged our cooperation and assistance. The governor is fully on board with this.”
“He is?” Joe said, knowing Governor Rulon’s legendary battles with the federal government over a range of contentious issues. He had once challenged the secretary of interior to an arm-wrestling match to determine a state versus federal policy on wolves, for example.
“We really don’t need to get into the political weeds on this,” she said. “It’s not something you need to get involved in. But can you assure me you’ll provide your full assistance and expertise to Mr. Batista and Mr. Underwood?”
Joe took a sip of coffee. “Yes,” he said, “as long as they calm down a little. They’ve been offering rewards to nail Butch Roberson. That’s not the way to do this.”
“No caveats,” she said, again instant steel. “Do I have your assurance?”
Joe took a deep breath and said, “Sure. They haven’t called me yet to meet with them, but I expect that will happen later today. I might be able to help them and make sure it’s not some kind of execution at the same time. I don’t trust this Underwood guy. He seems like the type who would love to pull the trigger on Butch. Maybe I can stop him, and make sure Butch is behind bars where he belongs-for his own safety, if nothing else.”
“That’s good, Joe,” she said, though without her previous enthusiasm. “You sound like you have doubts about their motives.”
“I don’t doubt their motives one bit,” Joe said. “They’ve got two special agents down. I’d be the same if it were two game wardens. But they need to let the sheriff do his job.”
When she looked at him askance, Joe said, “We see this kind of thing too much, and it’s a big problem. Sometimes the Feds are too quick to rush in and assume everyone local is incompetent. It’s like an absentee owner who overreacts because they want to make sure everyone knows who’s boss.”
“But it’s a federal matter, not a local matter.”
“Do you know the story behind it?” Joe asked.
“I’ve heard some things.”
“It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever heard,” Joe said, “if true. And it’s not the first time it’s happened.”