Free Fire by C.J. Box Page B

condition. The Secretary may in his discretion, grant leases for building purposes for terms not exceeding ten years, of small parcels of ground, at such places in said park as shall require the erection of buildings for the accommodationof visitors; all of the proceeds of said leases, and all other revenues that may be derived from any source connected with said park, to be expended under his direction in the managementof the same, and the construction of roads and bridle-pathstherein. He shall provide against the wanton destruction of the fish and game found within said park, and against their captureor destruction for the purposes of merchandise or profit. He shall also cause all persons trespassing upon the same after the passage of this act to be removed therefrom, and generally shall be authorized to take all such measures as shall be necessary or proper to fully carry out the objects and purposes of this act. (U.S.C., title 16, sec. 22.)

6
    On the morning joe was to leave for yellowstonehe took the girls to school in the white Yukon the state had assigned him. It was the same one that had delivered Chuck Ward to the ranch. There was a brief flare-up between Sheridan and Lucy regarding who would get the front seat and who would have to cram into the backseat along with his duffel bags of clothes and outdoor gear. Sheridan won the battle with the oldest trick in the book—pointing toward the horizon and saying,“Look!”—thereby distracting Lucy and Joe while she scrambled into the front.
    It was a brilliant crisp fall day, no wind, colors in the river bottoms igniting as the sun lit them like lantern mantles. Althoughit wasn’t a green pickup with the pronghorn antelope Game and Fish logo on the door and a light bar on top, Joe acquaintedhimself with his new vehicle. The Yukon was unabashedlybig, tall, roomy, heavy, and powerful. He felt only slightly guilty about liking it so much. Joe prayed he could returnit in one piece.
    From the backseat, Lucy asked, “Does this car waste a lot of gasoline?”
    Like sailors on shore leave “waste” beer, Joe thought. But he simply said, “Yes.”
    “Why can’t you have something that’s better for the environment?”
    “Because I’m taking it into some pretty rough country and it’s nearly winter, so I might need four-wheel drive.”
    “Hmmpf.”
    Sheridan ignored the exchange and picked up a FedEx box near her feet. “Can I look inside?”
    “Sure,” he said. The box had arrived the previous afternoon from headquarters in Cheyenne. As he had anticipated, there was no “Welcome Back, Joe!” note inside from Randy Pope.
    But there was a badge, and credentials.
    Sheridan looked through the embroidered shoulder patches, a new name tag, newly issued statute booklets, recent memos paper-clipped together, a handheld radio. She opened the plasticbox with the small gold shield inside.
    “Number fifty-four,” she said. “Didn’t you used to have a lower badge number?”
    Joe smiled ruefully, surprised she had paid attention. “I used to have number twenty-one.”
    There were only fifty-four game wardens in the state, and the higher the seniority, the lower the number. Even though Pope had been ordered to restore his salary and pension, the governor probably hadn’t thought of asking to reassign his number. The high badge number was usually given to trainees fresh out of college, and it sent an obvious message.
    “That’s so unfair.”
    “It’s all right,” he said, thinking, Yes, it was a slap in the face. But not unexpected .
    “I used to look at your badge every morning at breakfast,” she said. “That’s how I remembered.”
    Joe felt a sentimental pang. He had no idea.
    “We’re going to visit you in Yellowstone Park, right?” Lucy asked.
    “Yup.”
    “Mom told me we almost went there once,” she said. “Mrs. Hanson says it’s a great place but people are ruining it.”
    “You were a baby,” Joe said, choosing not to comment on what her