Divided Sky

by Jeff Carson

  On the way to the car, Rachette spoke under his breath. “That was weird, right?”

  Wolf watched Sobeck and Triplett climbing in their vehicle, not looking at or speaking with one another. “Yeah.”

  Chapter 28

  “What are they doing without a search warrant this late?” Rachette asked. “You want to drive?”

  “Sure.” Wolf took the keys and climbed in. He had to slide the seat back to get his legs under the steering wheel. “You heard them, they’re working on it. The judge was probably out fishing all weekend. Who knows?”

  Outside, Roll paced the parking lot and spoke heatedly into his phone. Wolf knew the feeling. The sheriff was getting pushed on and pulled at from all sides. Wolf didn’t envy him, but at the same time Wolf couldn’t help wishing he held the reins of the investigation.

  Come to think of it, he probably needed to get used to this feeling—sitting in the car with Rachette, looking out on a job that used to be his. Waiting on orders rather than doling them out.

  “What if Jesse’s right?” Rachette asked. “And Sobeck took the bracelet off Jesse during the fight? Or it could have fallen off and he pocketed it. Do you know what Sobeck did after the fight?”

  “According to the bartender, he closed his bar tab and left, too.”

  Rachette popped his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

  Wolf eyed the tinted glass of Triplett’s cruiser.

  “And in the same PTSD group as Hettie’s father?” Rachette continued. “If he was close to Hettie’s father, he’d be pissed as hell after that shooting, maybe more than the average person in town since he’d been sharing intimate secrets with the man, getting to know him. You know, buddy-buddy. You know how it is with those groups.”

  Outside, Roll hung up his phone and walked to Sobeck and Triplett’s car. After a quick conversation with the sheriff, Triplett rolled up his window and drove away.

  “How about you stay here.” Wolf popped open the door and got out.

  Roll walked over and met Wolf at the front of his SUV.

  “What’s the word?” Wolf asked.

  “We’re still trying to get that warrant. I can’t get a straight answer.” Roll sighed heavily. “But they’re saying no more than two hours. So we wait.”

  “Do we know where Hettie Winkle is right now?” Wolf asked.

  Roll eyed him. “Why’s that?”

  “Because I’d like to talk to her.”

  Roll blinked. “This isn’t your investigation, detective.”

  “What did it look like the first time you spoke to her? Like she was lying?”

  Roll thought about it. “I didn’t get the impression she was lying.”

  “When you talked to her, did you tell her about the blood you found up at Kyle’s house?”

  “No. I didn’t.”

  Milo climbed out of the FJ and walked over to them. “What’s happening?”

  “We’re discussing Hettie Winkle,” Roll said.

  “I think we should talk to her again,” Milo said.

  Roll nodded. “Okay, why don’t you give her a call. See if she’s home or at the diner, or what.”

  “The diner?” Wolf asked.

  “She works at Lucille’s. The diner in town,” Roll said.

  “With Jill Sobeck?”

  Roll nodded. “Yeah. So what?”

  “Just curious, I guess.”

  Milo hesitated.

  “What is it, detective?” Roll asked.

  “Sir.”

  Roll waved a hand. “I know. We have to talk to Sobeck about where he was after that bar fight. I said call Hettie Winkle.”

  Milo pulled his phone out of his pocket and walked away.

  Wolf and Roll stood gazing at landscape in silence. Wolf could feel the energy coiled around the sheriff.

  “She’s home!” Milo pocketed his phone. “I told her we’re coming over to talk.”

  Roll nodded and Milo got back in the FJ.

  “See?” Roll eyed Wolf. “I don’t need you on this investigation.”

  Wolf nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

  They stared at one another. “But I’ve decided you might be useful.”

  “Oh yeah? What changed your mind?”

  “Because I’ve figured out who’s screwing my wife. There’s been this guy at her office I’ve seen with her too much lately.”

  Wolf raised an eyebrow. “Glad I could help?”

  Roll walked away. “Try and keep up.”

  The trip back down to Ridgway took twenty-six minutes, which was record time. The tailwind helped, but so did the flashers and Roll’s mood. The sheriff passed every vehicle he came upon, and Wolf’s forearms ached from gripping the wheel.

  Up ahead, Roll’s cruiser turned right into the town of Ridgway, past the motel, and hung a left onto an oiled dirt road. After traveling two blocks they were out in green pasture, among modern houses and cows.

  “Nice places,” Rachette said, whistling softly.

  They parked in front of a two-story house on a few acres of grassland, dotted with the occasional tree. Wolf had little knowledge of the real estate market in Ridgway, but the place would have fetched over a million, maybe two, up in Rocky Points.

  “Is this Hettie’s place?” Rachette asked Roll as they met at the top of a walkway to the front door.

  Milo had his cloth bag dangling from his hand.

  “Ray Winkle was a developer,” Roll said. “He did a lot of projects in Telluride. Big, multi-million-dollar homes. Hettie lives here.”

  “Ah.”

  The place had metal siding interspersed with multi-colored wood, and white stucco faces, and many windows—artistic touches that showed Ray Winkle had been good at what he did.

  The heavy wooden front door opened, and a young woman stood just inside. She had long blond hair that reached past her shoulders, framing a pretty face and big, coffee-colored eyes. She wore a turquoise checked flannel and jeans and stood barefoot on the wooden porch.

  Wolf’s first impression was that she was way too good for Kyle Farmer or Jesse Burton, and he wondered what the hell she was doing hanging out with a couple of misfits like them.

  “Hi Hettie,” Roll said, taking off his hat and stopping a few feet from the front door. “This is Detective Wolf from Rocky Points, and Tom Rachette.”

  Wolf and Rachette took off their caps and nodded.

  Hettie stood silent, staring at them. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt.

  “Could we come inside?” Roll asked.

  She looked over her shoulder.

  “Is your mother here?” Roll asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah. But she’s sleeping.”

  Wolf recalled the dash clock saying it was almost noon when they’d arrived.

  “How’s she doing?” Roll asked.

  Hettie shook her head. That seemed to be answer enough for Roll, who nodded.

  “We all deal with grief in different ways,” Roll said.

  “Yeah. Well I’m pretty sure getting pissed drunk twenty-four-seven is a way to not deal with grief.” She stepped out and shut the door. Then she sat on the step. “We can talk here.”

  Roll put his cap back on. “Right.” He folded his arms and eyed the monolithic peaks on the horizon. “Such a great view you guys have here.”

  “You have the same one from your house,” she said. “What do you want to talk about, sheriff?”

  Roll cleared his throat. “Hettie. We’ve had some developments in our case. Have you heard about them?”

  She picked up a pebble and twirled it in her fingers. Wolf noticed her bare nails were bitten to the quick.

  “You found Kyle,” she said.

  “That’s right.”

  “He was killed. And we think it was Friday night.”

  She threw the pebble. Picked up another one.

  “Hettie. Can you tell me about what happened after that fight at the bar again, please?” Roll asked.

  “I told you. Jesse dropped me off here. I got
in my car and went over to his house. Stayed there all night. Came home the next morning. Went to my shift at Lucille’s.”

  “And, from your phone, we were able to figure out that you called Jesse twice Friday night. Can you please tell us about that?” Roll asked.

  She shrugged. “I called him twice.”

  “Why did you call him?”

  “I called to tell him I was coming over.”

  “Did he answer?” Roll asked.

  “No.”

  “So, you called him. He didn’t answer. So what did you do?”

  “I went over to his house.”

  “And then what?”

  She shrugged, picked up another pebble, twirled it in her fingers. “I went inside. We hung out.”

  “But your cell phone says you called him again. Did you do that?”

  She tossed the pebble. It rolled up and stopped next to Wolf’s foot.

  “I called him again, yes.”

  “Did you talk to him at that point?” Roll asked.

  “No. He didn’t answer.”

  “Was he home?”

  She nodded.

  “Hettie. Can you look at me please?”

  Hettie took her time, then looked up.

  “Was he home when you went over there? Or was he not home, and that’s why you called him?”

  She put up a hand as a visor against the sun, dropping her face in shadow. “He was there. I just wanted to let him know I was there. But he wasn’t answering. So I went inside.”

  “And then you two did what?”

  She shrugged. “Had a beer. We talked. Watched television. Went to bed.”

  “Are you telling me the truth right now?” Roll asked.

  She looked around at them in turn, then dropped her hand and picked up another pebble. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Sheriff.”

  “I’m asking…was he really there? Or he wasn’t, and now you’re lying to me, because you’re trying to cover for him?”

  She said nothing.

  “Because,” Roll continued, “the cellular data shows that he might have taken his battery out of his cell phone.”

  “Maybe that’s why he didn’t answer then.” Hettie looked up at him.

  Roll smiled. “But, why would he take out the battery, Hettie?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Milo cleared his throat. “Hettie, have you seen this before?” He bent down and dangled the bag with the bracelet in front of her face.

  She looked at it. “That’s Jesse’s bracelet.”

  Milo stepped back and put it in his cloth bag “We found that wrapped around Kyle’s fingers. It was placed in Kyle’s hand. Kyle was then wrapped in two tarps. Then he was drug down the mountain behind his house and buried in the ground.”

  Hettie sniffed, and wiped her cheeks.

  “How about this?” Milo pulled out the second bag containing the headlamp. “How about this, Hettie. Do you recognize this?”

  She looked at it and shook her head. “No.”

  Milo kept it in front of her. “You sure?”

  “Yes. I’m sure. Are you guys through with your questions now?”

  Milo stepped back and slipped the bag back into his satchel. “We’re just trying to get to the bottom of what happened, Hettie. We’re trying to bring justice to whoever did this to Kyle.”

  “Like you tried to bring justice to Alexander Guild when he killed my father?”

  An icy silence took over.

  Wolf cleared his throat. “What did you and Jesse talk about over at his house that night?”

  She looked up at him. “Who are you?”

  “I’m David Wolf. I’m a detective up in Rocky Points.”

  “Yeah. I heard.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. We talked about us.”

  “How did you feel after Jesse told Kyle about you two cheating behind his back?” Wolf asked.

  “I felt great. It was a nice feeling. Thanks for asking.”

  Wolf nodded. “Why didn’t you go straight over to Jesse’s house that night? He was hurt, right? You could have gone with him to help him clean up. Maybe tend to his wounds?”

  She frowned. “I don’t know.”

  “He dropped you off here,” Wolf said. “I just find that odd that he would drop you off here. And then you called him and went over to his house.”

  She picked up a pebble.

  He ignored Roll and Milo’s glances and continued. “Did you two get in an argument after the fight at the bar?”

  She said nothing.

  “He was the one who told Kyle about you two cheating behind his back, right?”

  She flicked the rock into the grass.

  “You had been hesitating to tell him, right?” Wolf asked. “You were probably, understandably, upset at Jesse for telling Kyle, if you weren’t ready to tell him yet.”

  Hettie sniffed and looked at Wolf. Her eyes fell back to the ground. “We got in an argument on the way home. I told him to drop me off.”

  “Jesse dropped you off,” Wolf said. “And then what? Later you started feeling bad and wanted to talk it out with him?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. I called him. He didn’t answer, so I went over there.”

  “But he wasn’t there, right?” Wolf asked.

  She shook her head. “No. He was there. He was just not answering his phone.”

  “I don’t think he was there,” Wolf said. “I think he was very upset with what happened, and then, on top of it all, he was devastated that you had rejected him after fighting for you at the bar. He fought, gallantly, for you. And you rejected him. You told him to drop you off at home. Did you break up with him?”

  When she looked up her eyes were filled with hate. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” She got up. “I’m through talking.”

  “Hettie,” Roll said.

  “Bye, sheriff.” She opened the door, slipped inside, and shut it.

  Roll looked at Wolf. “You have a way with people, detective.”

  They turned and walked to their vehicles.

  “Yeah,” Milo said. “But that was highly informative. Jesse’s a hothead to begin with.”

  “The kind of hothead who tries to stab a teacher when things don’t go his way,” Wolf said.

  “You’ve heard about that.”

  Wolf nodded. “From his uncle.”

  “Heard about what?” Rachette asked. “He tried to stab a teacher?”

  Roll’s phone chimed in his pocket and he pulled it out. “Yeah, we’re on our way.” He poked the screen and stepped faster. “We have the warrant, boys. Let’s move.”

  Chapter 29

  The development where Jesse’s house lay was a ten-minute drive away on the other side of the valley.

  A handful of boxy earth-toned modern houses stood among the low junipers and sage. Cleared lots on either side of the road without foundations or any signs of construction told of a slow real estate market, and a developer not doing as well as Hettie Winkle’s father before he’d been gunned down by Alexander Guild.

  The CBI van and Triplett’s vehicle were already parked in front of a decent-sized house. Roll and Milo pulled up behind them and stopped, and Wolf took up end position and shut off the engine.

  “Decent spread for a single male, early twenties. I have to start growing recreational marijuana.”

  Wolf shut his door and they walked to the gathering of men at the head of the driveway.

  “We gonna be able to help with the search or what?” Rachette spat a lump of Copenhagen onto the road.

  “Probably,” Wolf said.

  “What were you and Roll talking about back at the station this morning when you sent me out of the room?”

  “Women.”

  “Aha. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Roll stood at the top of the driveway. “Special Agents Rushing and Jackson, Milo, and I will head in and do the search.”

  “I’d like to join you if you don’t mind,” Wolf sa
id.

  Roll took a breath to consider it and nodded. “Okay. Sobeck, Triplett.” He nodded. “Rachette. Please keep the scene secure.”

  Wolf ignored the resentment on Rachette’s face and walked down the driveway toward the house.

  Rachette stood with Sobeck and Triplett, watching the men don booties and gloves and immediately get stuck at Jesse’s locked front door.

  “They gonna bust the door down?” Rachette asked.

  Sobeck and Triplett said nothing in response.

  Rachette had grown up back in Nebraska with an annoying little sister and had spent the bulk of his life ignoring her. He felt a tinge of empathy now.

  Back at the house, they had pushed open the window and Sheriff Roll was climbing his way inside.

  “Whoa, easy,” Triplett said.

  The old man disappeared into the blackened opening, and a few seconds later opened the front door. The others streamed in and disappeared into the doorway.

  “There they go,” Rachette said.

  The two deputies ignored him again. Fine. Screw them. Rachette pulled his can, took a dip, and closed his eyes toward the sun.

  Chapter 30

  The inside of Jesse Burton’s house was cool and smelled of air freshener.

  The floors were brand new, as were the counters, the kitchen appliances, and the paint on the walls. And it was all covered in a thin veil of dust. Discarded microwave meal boxes littered the countertops. The trash bin on the kitchen floor was overflowing, pushing up its lid. There was a definite bachelor scent behind the air freshener.

  “I’ll take the bedroom,” Special Agent Rushing said. “Agent Jackson will check the drains.”

  Roll sidled up next to Wolf. “Me, you, and Milo—let’s split up and look for anything interesting.”

  Wolf watched Roll and Milo follow after the two CBI agents and took the opposite direction. The first door he came to was open, revealing a laundry room within. The washer and dryer were the kind with glass doors and touch screen technology, bulky and powerful looking.

  He pulled open the top of the washer and looked inside. Pieces of clothing were pressed to the edges by a spin cycle that had finished days ago.