The call ended without another word.
In its wake, a very confused Jenks sat alone in the silence of his office.
Chapter Eleven
Seven hundred.
Seven years, with fifty-two weeks per year, made for a total of three hundred and sixty-four weeks.
Three times a week brought that number up to one thousand and ninety-two possible Zoo Crew outings.
Over the years, certain obvious things had come up that made gathering impossible. Football games. Holidays. Finals.
Fire season for Kade. The summer Drake spent in Nashville. Various gaming conferences that Ajax was invited to attend.
By best guess, the Zoo Crew had gotten together roughly seven hundred times over the years.
In all those outings though, this was easily a first.
There was already a scattered handful of cars in the parking lot when Drake pulled up. Despite the frigid morning air, he was dressed in a pair of running pants, a baggy long sleeved Under Armour, and a ski cap.
Beside him in the truck, Ajax was still doing his best impersonation of the Michelin man. Puffy wind pants, down jacket, gloves, hat.
The ensemble gave the appearance of adding fifty pounds to his slight frame.
"You sure you're up for this?" Drake asked.
"Why wouldn't I be?" Ajax asked. His eyes were still only eighty percent open. The words came out a touch slurred.
Drake considered responding. Fought back the urge to make a Cool Runnings joke.
Opted to let it go at a light chuckle.
A moment later the Keuhls slid in beside them. Kade on the left. Sage on the right.
Kade was out in front of them in the parking lot before Drake even had a chance to turn off the truck. Bounced around on the balls of his feet like a life-sized marionette.
Even cast a few shadow punches for effect.
Drake laughed aloud and slid himself from the front seat of the truck. Watched as his friend continued to fire jabs into the air.
"I take it you're excited to be here this morning?"
"Excited? You ever known him to show up early?" Sage asked. Climbed out from her own car. Joined Ajax as they circled around the front of the building.
"Hell yeah I'm excited," Kade said. Dropped his hands and fell in line with the others. "How long have we been offering to help Rink out like this?"
"I don't think we have ever offered," Ajax said. "You've just been dying to get out and hit someone again."
"Stop being such a woman," Kade retorted. "You're going to love it, I swear."
Ajax grumbled something unintelligible as the group passed through the front door of the Ice House.
Home to the Missoula Miners junior hockey team, the Ice House looked like most any other small rink in the country.
At least, the way they looked in 1965.
The majority of the building consisted of the ice, kept in pristine condition with Plexiglas enveloping it. Around it was four rows of rough-hewn wooden bleachers.
Two large cast-iron space heaters rested in the two rear corners.
Locker rooms rested in a third corner.
Restrooms and a snack stand in the fourth.
The town had tried several times over the years to renovate the place. Businesses had offered to buy advertising space at a premium price.
Management wouldn't hear of it. The Ice House had been built almost fifty years before and was a beloved local landmark.
There would be no modernizing done on their watch.
It was still ten minutes before seven as they walked in. The world outside was almost entirely dark. That didn't stop there from being a hockey practice in full swing as they entered.
The Zoo Crew shuffled in and found seats along the front row of the bleachers. Waiting for them were four sets of ice cleats.
"Oh, this is going to be good," Kade said. Snatched up the first set of cleats and slid them over his sneakers. Cinched them tight.
He stood and hopped a few times in them, waiting as the others did the same.
Out on the ice a shrill whistle sounded and a familiar voice ordered the team to take water. A moment later a side door to the rink opened beside them and the owner of the voice came towards them wearing his own pair of cleats.
"Well I'll be damned," the man said, a smile on his face.
"Rink, how the heck are ya?" Drake asked from the end of the bench. Stood and shook his friend's hand.
"Hell of a lot better now," Rink said. Moved down the line to shake Kade and Ajax's hand. Offered a Sage a half hug.
"Rough morning?" Drake asked.
"Bunch of rag weeds that think they're daisies," Rink said. Threw a look of disgust over his shoulder.
"That's why we're here!" Kade said. Wrapped on a bandana to tie back his long dark hair.
"Thanks for doing this," Rink said.
"What do you need us to do?" Drake asked.
The implication was clear. There was no need to thank them.
That rule was generally always in effect, but now more than ever. Just a month before Rink had helped them out tremendously with the same case that had broken Drake's hand.
Never once did he question anything.
If anybody in the lot was the kind to keep score, they would know they owed him for it.
Rink had been a satellite member of the Zoo Crew since its inception seven years before. While Drake and Kade were playing football, he was putting in time at the Ice House.
Over the years he left a small swimming pool of his own sweat out on the ice. Left two or three times that amount in opponent's blood.
He was as beloved a sports figure in Missoula as anybody to ever play for the Griz. When a knee injury ended his shot at playing in the NHL, he stayed on to coach the team.
Rink pulled a faded Miners ball cap from his head. Ran a sleeve over a head of sweaty red curls pulled back into a widow's peak.
Over a long scar that ran two inches long against the base of his hairline.
"The boys are soft," he began. Almost spat the words, like it was a personal affront to him. "I'm going to set up an obstacle course. I'd like you guys to roam the ice. Get physical with them."
Drake looked past Rink to the cones already set out in a serpentine arrangement.
Kade's face broke into a large smile.
"That work?" Rink asked. "Sage, I have a blocking pad you can use if you'd like."
Sage held her hands by her side. "I appreciate the offer, but I think I'm alright."
"Sounds like it would do your boys some good to get smacked around by a girl for awhile," Kade added.
Rink snorted. Said nothing. Motioned back over his shoulder for the others to join him.
One by one the Zoo Crew followed him out onto the ice. Moved a little from side to side to acclimate to the cleats.
Ribbed with metal studs that criss-crossed the soles of their shoes, it was as stable as walking on concrete.
Drake and Kade shared a mischievous grin.
Rink whistled again and his team skated out to join him. Almost two dozen in total, the guys ranged in age from eighteen to twenty-two.
The largest weighed about two hundred and ten pounds. The smallest looked to be roughly a hundred and fifty.
All of them looked tired. Most of them stared curiously at the newcomers.
"Alright boys," Rink said. His voice almost dripped with disgust. "Since apparently my yelling and screaming isn't getting the point across, I thought I would bring in some friends to help me illustrate.
"Behind me are four of the toughest people I know. I have asked them here to try and give a little of that to you."
A few sets of eyes went wide. A few more rolled in boredom.
"On my whistle I want you all down on the blue line. You know the obstacle course, I don't need to go through it again. The only difference this time is as you're doing it, my friends and I are going to be roaming the ice.
"We're going to hit you. Hard." He paused and surveyed
the group. "It will not be fun, I promise you that."
Many faces continued to relay teenage angst.
Drake did his best to mask the excitement welling within him.
A thin smile crossed Rink's face. "Alright boys."
He blew the whistle. Waited as his team skated to the opposite end.
"I didn't know you were getting in on this too," Ajax asked as the group fanned out across the ice.
"You kidding me?" Rink asked. Turned his hat around backwards. Stuck the whistle at an angle into the corner of his mouth. "I've been waiting three weeks for this."
Drake took up a post halfway down the ice, the first in line. Behind him, the group arranged itself in a zigzag pattern the length of the course.
Adrenaline surged into his temples. For the first time since the playoffs three years before, he felt the prickly sensation that indicated physical contact was near.
Rink blasted the whistle behind him.
In front of him, a skater clad in black burst forward. Stick held directly out in front of him. Head down and swinging from side to side.
Drake waited until the skater was into his first turn before launching himself sideways.
For a split second he hung in the air, every muscle taut, expecting a collision.
His shoulder connected first with the player's chest, launching his skates from beneath him. His entire body rotated once before crashing face first to the ice.
Behind him, Drake could hear the Zoo Crew call out in support.
In front of him, the entire Miners roster winced and exclaimed in shock.
Just briefly Drake feared he might have gotten a little carried away.
Those worries were quickly put to rest by Rink.
"That's how you hit somebody!" Rink exclaimed. "Don't just lay there boy! Get your ass up!"
With a moan, the player rolled to his feet and gingerly pushed forward on the course.
He was rewarded for his effort by being blasted a second time by Kade.
"Whoo!" Kade exclaimed as the player tried again to roll to his feet.
Not even pretending to hide his excitement, Drake grinned broadly. Pointed at his friend. Bounced on the balls of his feet and readied for the next target.
Kade pointed back. Matched the grin.
This might be a first for the Zoo Crew. It definitely wouldn't be a last.
Chapter Twelve
Verizon.
American Express.
Bank of America.
There was no end to it. For every phone call Alice Galt made, another seemed to pop up in its place.
The water company.
The cable company.
The car dealership.
Every single account they held had to have Craig's name scrubbed from it. Over forty years of life reduced to a list on a scratch pad.
Less than a day had passed since she'd laid her husband to rest. Alice felt dirty even thinking about removing his name from their accounts.
Felt like one-by-one she was removing him from her life as well.
Still, it gave her something to do. And it beat the hell out of entertaining visitors.
It was hard enough having to hear the faux sympathy from each person she spoke to on the phone.
Each time, the scene played out the same way. She would call and ask to speak with a manager. Some underling, no doubt trained in screening for angry costumers, would ask for a full reasoning why.
After they were informed, the offered their condolences. Eventually transferred her up the line.
Once there, she had to go through the story again. More obligatory concern.
Eventually, after the better part of an hour had passed, she would finally accomplish what she wanted. Would hang up the phone, draw a thick black line through one more item on the list.
Slam the phone down and cry until every last bit of moisture was gone from within her.
Rise from the kitchen table and have a glass of tea. Sit back down and do it all over again.
After four hours, she had made it less than a quarter of a way through the list. Some small part of her was glad to at least be making progress. A slightly larger part was happy to have someplace else to aim her angst.
She had just returned to the table, a stomach full of tea to replace the fluid she'd just lost through her tear ducts. A steely resolve to get as far down the list as she could.
When the phone rang, a feeling of dread rolled through her. Doubled in intensity as she checked the caller ID.
Didn't recognize the number. Or even the area code.
"Great," Alice muttered. Against her better judgment, she clicked the phone on and held it to her ear.
"Hullo?"
"Yes, I am looking for a Mrs. Alice Galt?"
The voice was clipped, bored. Held a distinctive east coast accent. New Jersey. Maybe Boston.
"This is she."
Alice's eyes slid closed. She hoped it was nothing more than a courtesy call trying to sell her windows or freeze-dried steaks.
Fought back the foreboding feeling that it wasn't.
"Good afternoon Mrs. Galt. My name is Ricardo and I am calling on behalf of US Atlantic Insurance Agency."
Alice allowed herself a small nod. It was nothing more than a courtesy call. "Listen, I'm very sorry, but this is not a good time. I'm really not in the market for any insurance right now."
"I'm sorry ma'am," Ricardo said quickly, "but I'm not trying to sell you anything."
Alice exhaled. She closed her eyes and pressed the phone tight to her cheek. "Please don't take offense, but I do not have time for this at the moment. My husband just passed away and I have a long list of phone calls to make before things close this afternoon."
Silence fell over the line.
"Did you just hang up on me?" Alice asked. Eyes popped open. Phone pulled back on inch from her face.
"No ma'am," Ricardo said. "I'm very sorry to hear about the passing of your husband. That's actually why I'm calling."
Alice started to respond, but stopped short. She paused for a moment. "Who did you say you're with again?"
"US Atlantic Insurance Company."
Alice jotted the name down at the bottom of her list. It now extended the entire length of the page.
"US Atlantic," Alice repeated. "I'm sorry, but I've never heard of you. Do you operate here in Missoula?"
"No ma'am. We are located in Newark, New Jersey."
"Newark, New Jersey?" Alice made no effort to hide the surprise in her voice. Her face relayed the same general expression. "What is this about?"
"This is about the life insurance policy that was taken out in your husband's name."
The look on her face went from confused to befuddled. "My husband's life insurance was through Mountain Life here in Missoula. This is the first I've ever heard of your company or this policy."
Ricardo remained silent for several moments. When he spoke, his voice was thick with uncertainty. "Um, Mrs. Galt, I'm not sure what to tell you. All I know is we have a policy here for a Craig Galt in the amount of $250,000. I was merely calling to check on where the money should be sent."
Alice's eyes opened wide. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed at her brow with her free hand.
$250,000? How did Craig afford the premiums on such a large policy? Why had he never told her about it?
And where did he come up with US Atlantic Insurance Company?
Alice looked over at the enormous stack of envelopes still waiting for her attention. Another heavy sigh.
Surely if the insurance company was calling, willing to cut her a check for a quarter million dollars, there must be something to it. There must be something in the pile she had missed.
$250,000 was a lot of money. Like starting over money.
At the mere thought of the words, tears stung the underside of her eyes.
Without thinking she rattled off the address as fast as she could. Slammed the phone down.
Fell forward onto the table. Buried
her face in the arms of her sweater. Bawled until the entire glass of tea she'd drank a few minutes before was out of her.
Chapter Thirteen
The Suite.
Referred to as The Suite because it was the only one in the entire Hilton. Quite possibly the entire city of Missoula.
At $359 a night, it was also easily the priciest room to be found in Western Montana. The girl at check-in had stared with a look of astonishment on her face as Raquel and Hector signed in for a ten night stay.
Both considered telling her that the shoes they were wearing cost more than the total of the bill.
Decided against it. Remained in full cover, babbling some story about being on a second honeymoon. Money was no object.
All that crap people are too happy to believe.
Both well into their thirties, they were a touch too old to make anybody believe they were on a first honeymoon. At least anybody in Western Montana, where the mean marrying age is twenty-three.
Instead, they played the second honeymoon story. Raquel, the widow of a former Army Ranger. Hector, not far removed from an adulterous wife.
They had met in the most random of places and felt immediately drawn to each other. Had been together every moment sense.
The story made both their stomachs turn. They kept it because it was the kind of sappy crap people love to hear.
In reality, Raquel was born into poverty in Budapest, Hungary. She never met her father. Knew her mother only for the first eight years of life before she vanished.
Whether she chose to run or was forced to disappear, Raquel had no idea. Had long quit caring to know.
By age nine, she was one of the best pickpockets in the city. Even changed her surname to Penz, which literally translates to money in Hungarian.
At fifteen, she was running her own crew. Pickpockets, con artists, even some breaking and entering.
She killed her first man at the age of seventeen, a drunken vagrant that tried to steal what she had rightfully swiped from a local merchant.
During the struggle she had accidentally drove her elbow into the small of his throat. Crushed his larynx instantly. Stood and watched as bright red blood slipped between his lips.
Dead Peasants (Zoo Crew series Book 2) Page 5