Purvis was clearly baffled by this turn of events. "You're crazy."

Ron laughed. "You're not the first to say that. Go on-give it a try."

"Just step out and yell?"

Ron could hear the fascination growing in the other man's voice. He glanced up at the whiteboard as if for confirmation and read what they'd learned earlier from one of Matt's drinking buddies: "Acts out in public."

"Sure," he suggested.

The regular phone rang inside Matt's trailer.

"Hang on," Purvis said, and put Ron down with a bang, again not actually severing the connection.

Ron killed his mike switch, swore softly, and said to the note taker, "He just got a phone call."

He hunched over, listening carefully.

"Who?" he heard Purvis say. "A reporter? I don't… What?" His voice grew. "A nut with a gun? Who the fuck told you that?… Yeah, the cops're here… It's none of your business… I got fired, all right? I got fired and my bitch wife slapped a restraining order on me and I'm about to be thrown out of my house for back rent and life is shit. Is that what you want to hear?"

Klesczewski punched a transmit button on his console, switching his line over to the incident command post. He slipped one of his earphones off so he could listen to Purvis and the ICP at the same time.

"Washburn."

"He just got a phone call from a reporter."

"What?"

"I think we should cut the trailer's phone line. It might be somebody from the Reformer, but whoever it is, is working him up all over again."

"Goddamn it, Ron, let's give Kazak and his guys a shot."

Ron grimaced at the last word. Wayne Kazak was Washburn's kind of action-oriented guy. "It's your call, but I'd like to hold off on that for a bit. Before the phone rang, I almost had him out the door."