Coon leveled his gaze at Joe, pointedly ignoring Nate. He said, “Some background is necessary. Senator McKinty is on the Homeland Security Committee, as mentioned. He knew the government was looking for land for a new counterterrorism effort, a training facility far removed from any population centers. He knew because his staff knows the federal budget inside out and they’re under orders to be on the lookout for opportunities to preempt senators with less seniority and stature to deliver the pork back home. As you know, Michigan has been in a one-state depression for years, so anything he can deliver keeps him popular and gets him reelected time after time. The Upper Peninsula is pretty hard hit, so he wanted to locate the facility there, but there wasn’t a big enough piece of state land that would meet all the specs. So he worked with the locals to identify several huge private holdings that provided the geographical diversity necessary for the facility. He worked with the developer to target the land. What no one knew was that he’d arranged for his son to be a major shareholder in the development as well. You see, McKinty’s largest campaign contributor is himself. This was a way of creating a permanent major donor. There are no laws preventing a senator from contributing to his own campaign.”
Nate said, “Bastards.”
Joe looked over to try and shush him. Nate glared back.
Coon said, “So he delivered an eight-hundred-fifty-million-dollar defense facility to his constituents. Few knew he was personally going to benefit, and those who knew didn’t care because that’s how things are done. All you have to ask yourself is: How many of our representatives enter office as fairly well-off financially, but on a salary of a hundred seventy-five thousand dollars per year retire as millionaires? That’s one way how it’s done.”
“The Clines were a major problem, though,” Coon said, “because they became grassroots heroes for refusing to relocate their business or leave their land. Even though the media didn’t much cover the showdown, it was all over the Internet and talk radio. That put pressure on Senator McKinty and he wanted them gone, and used his pull with federal agencies to put the pressure on them. The Clines were well known as independent backwoods renegade types, and it didn’t take long for legitimate charges to be brought against them.”
“Still,” Joe said, “it was their land. How can the government just take it?”
Coon shrugged. “We can. We do.”
Nate spat, “Bastards.”
“Anyway,” Coon said, “not every member of the Cline family died that day. Two of them survived.”
Joe felt his scalp twitch and his stomach clench. Coon read Joe’s face.
“That’s right,” Coon said. “The two surviving sons were arrested. They were belligerent and claimed they were political prisoners and they wouldn’t spend one minute in jail. It was shaping up to be a major federal trial, but Senator McKinty again got involved. He didn’t want a trial that could blow open the whole controversy again, and he didn’t want his personal connection to the facility widely known. So he sent his staff to the Justice Department, and a deal was cut. If the two surviving Cline sons would drop their claim to the land and agree not to pursue any civil legal action against law enforcement, they wouldn’t be prosecuted. Instead, they’d be given new identities and be placed in the Federal Witness Protection Program and allowed to go away. Otherwise, federal prosecutors would go after them with both barrels and send them to prison for the rest of their lives. Needless to say, their court-appointed public defenders urged them to take the deal.”
“Hold it,” Joe said, shaking his head. “Prosecutors wouldn’t cut those brothers a deal based on what you’ve said, would they? If they really fired on federal officers? What did the brothers have to bargain with?”
“Not much,” Coon said. “But there were people in the administration who didn’t want any undue attention on the land seizure, either. They had enough on their plates at the time with accusations about creeping socialism and such. The last thing they wanted was more controversy about government takings. And don’t forget, federal prosecutors are political appointees. They know where their bread is buttered.”
“This stinks,” Joe said.
Coon nodded. “Welcome to the big time, Joe.”
“And I bet I can guess the names of the brothers,” Joe said. “Camish and Caleb. Grimmengruber was the name they were given for the witness protection program.”
Joe continued, “They told me they were from the UP, but it didn’t click at the time. And the fact they ran a meat-processing company explains how professionally they were able to butcher the elk and my horses.”
Coon nodded. “They were supposed to go to Nevada. There were sweet auto mechanic jobs all lined up for them. But en route, just about a hundred miles from here in Wyoming, they overpowered their federal escort and took off. Needless to say, they never showed up in Nevada. We lost track of them completely, but our agency was told to keep an eye out for them. Until you gave your statement, we had no idea where they ended up.”
Rulon said, “And I would have never put this all together except for Senator McKinty himself. As I said, I’ve been tangling with him for a couple of years, because he’s the chairman of the Natural Resources Committee and he refused to release mineral severance payments to the State of Wyoming that are owed to us. We’re talking hundreds of millions. He wants all that money to stay in Washington so he can siphon it off, the prick. He wouldn’t answer my letters or take my calls until this week. Now, all of a sudden, his staff said he’s rethinking his opposition to releasing the funds. But there’s a condition. He wants the Clines—or the Grim Brothers—to be left alone up there in the mountains. They made up this goofy story of wanting to look out for their former constituents, but I saw right through that. He doesn’t want them to resurface and start talking.”
Joe said to Coon, “So why’d you talk to the governor?”
Coon shook his head. “There’s only so much I can take. I just want to do my job out here and solve crimes and put bad guys in prison. I don’t want any part of deals cut in D.C. between senators and attorneys general. I’ve got a son. I want to be able to look him in the eye. And I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror.”
Joe said, “You are a good man.”
Coon smiled. “I’m a bad bureaucrat, though.”
“That makes two of us.”
Nate said to the governor, “Hold it. McKinty just wants the Clines, or the Grim Brothers, left alone?”
Rulon said, “He didn’t say it in so many words, but yes, that’s what his staff is asking.”
Nate shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t want them left alone. He wants them silenced. That’s the only way he can skate on this.”
Rulon said, “He’s a U.S. senator. He’s not a killer, for Christ sake. Man, I thought I was cynical.”
Nate said, “When did he approach you about the deal?”
The governor said, “Last week. Why?”
Nate said, “Because I think he wanted you to not put any more effort into finding those brothers right away until he could take care of it himself. I wouldn’t be surprised if he, or his son, or the developer, or the facility general manager—whoever could do it at arm’s length and not directly involve McKinty in any way—sent a team up there to solve the problem once and for all. And it wouldn’t surprise me if he reneged on his offer once he got confirmation that the Clines were no more.”
Rulon turned to Carson while pointing his finger at Nate. “This son of a bitch should be our point man in Washington. He’s got a vicious and devious mind.”
“No, thanks,” Nate said. “I used to work for them. I know how they think, and how they operate. The question is, did the team he sent out find the Clines?”