by Jeff Carson
The windows were lit but she leaned close anyway to see if anyone was home.
Margaret appeared, wiping her hands on an apron. She slowed when she saw Heather filling the glass pane, then opened the door.
“You scared the crap out of me.”
“Why aren’t you answering my calls or texts?”
Margaret sighed. “Come inside.”
“Nope.”
Margaret gave Heather a look that made her cringe—the one that looked exactly like her mother scolding her for coming home after school with mud all over her clothing.
But the mayor blinked first. “Listen, Heather. I can’t talk about this.”
“About what? About putting Wolf on the chopping block, and not telling me about it?”
“Chopping block?” Her aunt looked genuinely surprised.
“That’s the word going around the station. Your confidential interviews are causing a lot of problems.”
“What kind of—”
“Rumors.”
Margaret shook her head, staring at the ground. “I told John we should have—”
“I don’t care. I care about what you’re not telling us. Why those interviews? What’s going to happen?”
Margaret lifted her chin. “I can’t tell you anything, Heather.”
“Why not?”
“Other than to not worry about it. You trust me, don’t you?”
She didn’t answer.
“Heather. You trust me, right?”
“I just don’t want to see anything…” she swallowed, feeling an unexpected rush of emotion, “challenging happen to Wolf. He’s gone through so much in the last year.”
“I can’t guarantee that the changes ahead are not going to be challenging.” Margaret’s expression was unreadable.
“What does that even mean? What changes? Why is MacLean saying I would be good at Wolf’s job?”
Margaret’s eyes narrowed. “It means the next County Council meeting is on Tuesday morning, and we’ll go forward from there.”
“He said I’d be better at doing Wolf’s job than he is at doing his job. That’s what he said right to my face today.”
Margaret said nothing.
“I don’t want Wolf’s job if it means he’s demoted to my job.”
Margaret closed her eyes. “Heather. You have to go now. We can’t talk about this.”
“Is that what’s going to happen?”
Margaret’s eyelids only rose to half-mast. “Trust the process, Heather. Go home to your kids.”
“That’s it, isn’t it.” Patterson’s voice sharpened to a dagger. “Tell the council I do not want Wolf’s job. You got that?”
“Heather.”
“Good night.” She stepped off the porch and walked to her car.
Without looking out the windshield, she fired up the engine, backed out, and pointed the SUV back down toward town. Only when she took her foot off the gas did she glance toward the house. Expecting to see her aunt on the porch or standing in the front windows to watch her leave, she was more than a little concerned to see that Margaret was gone, the front of the house bathed in darkness.
She rolled down to the center of the valley, her thoughts on her aunt’s slack-eyed stare.
Heather knew that look, too. That particular crease of her aunt’s forehead had appeared on her mother’s the day she’d told Heather about her grandfather dying.
There was nothing more she could do about any of this except talk to Wolf. And she wasn’t about to do it over the phone. She would get to work tomorrow morning and corner him at the first opportunity.
She hung a right on Main and steeled herself for that conversation, and another sleepless night.
Chapter 8
The cell phone in Wolf’s hand glowed, washing out his view of the road outside the windshield. He pinched on the display to zoom the map, but the name of the street never came up. He zoomed back out, knowing he hadn’t looked at the road, the real road, in too long. The wheels hit the rumble strip and he jerked the wheel.
“Having trouble?” Burton put the bottle to his lips, took a slug, and finished with a satisfied exhale.
“It’d help if you could navigate.”
“Not a chance in hell.”
Wolf zoomed back out and hovered his finger over the button that would start spouting off directions in a feminine digital voice, thought better of it, and dropped the phone in the console.
“Hee hee.” Burton sipped again. “Damn things are the devil. Back in my day we used to drive around for hours gettin’ lost. We earned our way to places. Then you got that shit burned into your brain. No way you’d ever get lost on the way there again. You know, I still have all my friends’ phone numbers memorized from childhood?”
Wolf had the same superhuman ability, too, but opted to not encourage him and said nothing.
They passed a sign that read “Cortez – 11 miles.” A blue hospital sign signaled they were nearing Wolf’s destination. When they’d finally found cell reception, a quick search online told Wolf what he had feared—the nearest hospital that was in the direction of home was over two hours away. Cortez was only a few miles, but straight south.
Burton pulled down the sun visor and flipped open the mirror, angling it just so to eye Jesse in back. “All right, Jesse. It’s time to ‘fess up, son. What’s going on?”
Jesse looked like he was trying to sleep.
“You gonna talk or what?” Burton asked.
Jesse kept his eyes shut.
“Come on. I’m down here, aren’t I? You just gonna sit there now like a rock after we drove four hours to come get you?”
No answer.
Burton twisted in his seat, then fluttered his lips and pulled on the bottle again. “Your girlfriend said you were with her the night all of this business with this Alexander Guild went down. Maybe you’re hiding something about her. Maybe she’s a killer. Is that it? That’s why you’re being so quiet. You don’t want to give up that she’s lying, and that she was out blasting that guy with a fifty-caliber rifle.”
Jesse’s eyes flicked open. “She had nothing to do with that.”
Burton leaned into the mirror. “He’s awake!”
Jesse locked eyes with Wolf in the rearview for a moment, then averted his gaze.
“Why are you running?” Burton asked.
Jesse took his time answering. Wolf watched him as much as he could without running off the road.
“Everything’s lining up to make it look like I killed that guy, that Alexander Guild guy.”
“Did you?” Wolf asked.
“No.”
Burton gave Wolf a sideways glance. “How’s that? You were with your girlfriend all night, weren’t you?”
Jesse leaned back. “Yeah.”
“Then why did you run? And how about that gun you were just carrying?”
“And how about taking the battery out of your cell phone?” Wolf asked.
“I told you, some guys are after me.”
“Who?” Wolf asked.
“Kyle’s dad and his brothers.”
“Who’s Kyle?” Burton beat Wolf to the obvious question. The old man was loud and alert- looking, moving a lot in his seat. The alcohol was back behind the wheel.
“He’s my friend. My best friend.”
Jesse’s face was now hidden in the darkness of the back seat. They waited for him to continue talking.
“His dad called me this morning. He said they got a call from the sheriff’s department, telling them Kyle was missing and they had found blood at his house, and that they were very concerned for his well-being. They wanted to know where he was, and they seemed to think I was the one responsible for him being gone. And they were coming to talk to me about it.”
“The cops thought you were responsible?” Wolf asked.
“No, I mean, the Farmers, Kyle’s dad, thought I was responsible.”
“Why did they think you were responsible?” Wolf asked.
Je
sse shook his head. “Because the cops were looking for me, I guess.”
“So, you ran?” Burton asked.
“You don’t know that family. Them saying they’re going to come see me means they’re coming to start ripping my skin off until I tell them what they want to hear.”
“Where do the Farmers live? Ridgway?” Wolf asked.
“No. Up in Gunnison.”
“That’s hours away from Ridgway,” Burton said.
Jesse said nothing.
“So why did you run? Why not go to the cops? They would protect you from Kyle’s dad, or his brothers, or whoever the hell you’re talking about.”
Jesse made a noise. A passing car illuminated his face. His eyes were closed, his head back.
“Why did you run, Jesse?” Wolf asked. “Because you knew the cops were after you, too?”
“No. I…I can’t explain it. I was confused.”
“Try.” Burton’s voice was loud.
“Why did Kyle’s family think you had something to do with Kyle gone missing?” Wolf asked again.
Jesse took his time. “I got in a fight with Kyle Friday night. That’s why my face is all messed up. Everyone in town knew about it.”
“So the cops were after you,” Wolf said. “And you knew it?”
“I…called Kyle Saturday morning. You know, to apologize, but he wasn’t answering. I figured he was just ignoring me. But then…”
“But then what?” Burton asked.
“But then I heard from Kyle’s father that they were looking for him, and there was blood. So, yeah, I started thinking that, you know, I didn’t have an alibi for last night. For Saturday night. And the cops would be coming after me, too.”
“Where were you Saturday night?” Wolf asked. “Last night.”
“Just … home.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah.”
Wolf watched in the rearview. The kid was picking answers out of the sky.
Burton looked at Wolf, maybe sensing the same thing. “Who’s this girlfriend of yours?”
“Hettie. And she’s…she’s not my girlfriend. Hettie’s Kyle’s girlfriend. She’s the reason me and Kyle got in a fight Friday night.”
Wolf and Burton eyed each other.
“I’ve been seeing Hettie behind Kyle’s back,” Jesse said.
“Whoa,” Burton threw his hands up. “Wait a minute. Say that again?”
Jesse said nothing.
“You’re shacking up with this guy Kyle’s lady behind his back?”
“I know what it sounds like.”
“What does it sound like?” Wolf asked.
“You know, that I’m…I don’t know what it sounds like. But I can see how somebody would think I might have something to do with it if Kyle went missing.”
The silence took over for a bit.
“Go on,” Burton said.
Jesse shook his head.
“Come on, Jesse. Spit it out.”
“Spit out what? It’s like I said. I got a call from Jed Farmer this morning, Kyle’s dad. He was going all ape shit, talking about how the cops found blood at Kyle’s house and that Kyle was missing. He was demanding to know what was going on and where Kyle was. He said he heard me and Kyle got in a fight. And he said he was coming down from Gunnison to talk with me. And, like I said, that means he’s coming down to pull my fingernails out.
“That’s when I started freaking out. I drove into town to go talk to Hettie. And on the way there, I saw them driving at my house. Lights flashing.”
“Who?” Burton asked. “The cops?”
“Yeah.”
“So you ran.”
Jesse shut his eyes and shook his head. “I was freaking out, Hal. I figured out what they were thinking from the Jed Farmer phone call. And from talking to Hettie. They found blood. They were coming after me for it.”
“Why not just stay and talk to them?” Wolf asked. “And tell them you had nothing to do with it?”
Jesse shut his eyes and put his head back.
The wheels howled on the asphalt as the dotted lines flickered past.
“This isn’t looking very good for you, Jesse.” Burton used a fatherly tone Wolf recalled from back in the days of sitting in his office after a particularly bad day on the job.
“I know. I know. I screwed up. I was just freaked out, Hal. Just freaked out. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have texted you. I shouldn’t have brought you into this. But…something weird is going on. I’m not involved in this. I swear to you, Hal. I’m not.”
Burton tipped the bottle back again.
“I shouldn’t have texted you. I made a mistake.”
Burton said nothing.
“I should have called someone who cares.”
“Oh, you’re pulling that card, huh, son?”
“I’m not your son.” A passing car lit a resigned look on Jesse’s face.
“No, you are not.”
“Drink up,” Jesse said. “Even while you’re on your way to the hospital because of it. Drink up, old man. Just like dad. Stupid—”
“All right.” Wolf put up a hand. “Listen up, both of you. Let’s keep it quiet until we get to the hospital. Jesse, you and I will talk when we get there. And you.”
Wolf reached over and grabbed for the bottle. But Burton was lightning quick with his countermove snatching it back, as if he’d been anticipating it since slipping it out of the bag.
“Don’t make me regret giving you that,” Wolf said.
Burton tucked it away next to his right leg.
Jesse closed his eyes and leaned his head back again.
Burton sat in silence and Wolf let his line of questioning drop. The lights of Cortez were glowing on the horizon, brightening by the second.
Now it looked like Jesse really might have gone to sleep. Wolf thought about how sometimes guilty men looked innocent, and innocent guilty. That was still up in the air with this kid, but one thing was for certain, it looked like he was hiding something. Sheriff Roll and his investigators had a big job ahead of them.
Fifteen minutes later Wolf drove into the glowing lights of Cortez, following the hospital signs toward a well-lit modern building. He pulled into a puddle underneath a drive-up awning in front of the ER and shut off the engine.
“Stay here,” Wolf said as he climbed out.
The air was damp and clean, the surroundings lit brightly by the glow from the windows of the hospital.
“Need some help?” A security guard stood outside sucking on a cigarette.
Wolf looked back at the car and saw Burton tipping the bottle, and in the back seat, the young orange-haired man staring out at nothing.
“Yeah. I do.”
Chapter 9
Wolf stood outside under the hospital ER overhang, watching the lightning flicker to the north and listening to the digital trill of the cell phone pressed to his ear. He wondered how hard it was raining up in Rocky Points. In front of him, drizzle streaked through the cones of light out in the parking lot.
“Yeah.” MacLean cleared his throat. “Wolf?”
“Hey.”
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you all day.”
“Sorry. I’m down south with Burton.”
“Where? What? Why?”
Wolf explained the situation and received dead silence as a response on the other side.
“You there?”
“So you were lying to me earlier,” MacLean said. “Which means I was lying to Roll.”
Wolf exhaled, considered a long explanation, but instead said, “Sorry about that.”
“Sorry about that.” MacLean scoffed. “So, I hope you’ve told Roll what’s going on.”
“I have. He’s on his way.”
MacLean let out a long breath. “What’s wrong with Burton?”
“Not sure.”
The static clicked and scratched in Wolf’s ear.
“When are you coming back?”
“I haven’t talked to the d
octors yet. They’re running some tests. I’ll have to see what they say.”
“Fine. Listen, the reason I wanted to talk to you today was to inform you we have a meeting set up on Tuesday morning.”
“Okay.”
“At the Town Hall. It’s going to be with you, your squad, me, Wilson, and the County Council.”
Wolf pulled his eyebrows together. “What about?”
“We’ll discuss everything at the meeting.”
“Why can’t we talk about it now?”
“Because this isn’t something we discuss over the phone.”
Wolf said nothing.
“Tuesday morning. Eleven a.m. You do what you have to do with Burton to get him back home, or leave him there in that hospital if you have to. But you get home. Tuesday. Eleven a.m. Got that?”
There was a click.
“You there?”
He lowered his cell and stared at the storm clouds roiling to the north. Through the rain-streaked windows behind him, Wolf could see the security guard, who had introduced himself as Scotty, sitting in the waiting room with his arms crossed. Three seats away, Jesse sat with his hands cuffed behind his back, his chin resting on his chest, neon hair draped across his face. Scotty was a talker, and Jesse was fake sleeping to avoid chatting it up. Or maybe Jesse was exhausted from spending the day out in the wilderness and the psychological tension of running from the cops.
Wolf raised the phone and dialed another number.
“Hello, you’ve reached Cheryl Burton. I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave me a message, I’ll get right back to you.”
Wolf eyed his watch—10:17 pm—as the digital beep chimed in his ear.
“Hey, Cheryl. This is Dave Wolf. Listen…I’m in Cortez…Hal’s fine, he’s fine, but I’m at the hospital, where he’s been admitted. We were out hiking around the wilderness and he got light-headed. I just…listen, give me a call. I’m not good with these messages. Just give me a ring.” He disconnected and pocketed the phone.
He’d dumped the job of watching Jesse on Scotty, and there was still time before the Ouray law enforcement could feasibly show up. With the rain, he estimated they were still an hour out.
The picture of little Ryan’s toothless, seven-month-old grin illuminated the lock screen of his cell phone, and Wolf couldn’t help but feel joy swirl in his chest.