Alive and Killing (A David Wolf Novel)

by Jeff Carson

“The outside man,” Luke whispered, “who helped them into the country.”

  Wolf nodded. “And where did they come from? I’ve been racking my brain, and I swear there weren’t any more vehicles in that parking lot that night. There weren’t any when Jack and I parked there earlier in the day, either. So where did all these guys come from? And then where did they go? We have to go back up.”

  “Well, it’s going to be dark in an hour, and it’s probably still raining up there. We can’t go now.”

  Wolf sighed and took a sip of his beer. “You’ll have to be careful, tonight, that’s for sure. You know about the gold now, and it fits that that’s the reason why Jeffries’s sister and mother were killed. Meanwhile, I need to go back into town.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to find a motel, and get freshened, and sleep.”

  Luke rolled her eyes. “Shut up, you’re staying here. I have an extra room with a bed in it.”

  Wolf looked around. He realized he felt the warmest he’d been in over a day, and didn’t have any desire to argue the point.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  Chapter 35

  Sergeant McCall sat on a barstool in The Mountain Goat sipping a Guinness. He looked at the television and sighed. He could think of a dozen better ways of killing time than watching the Colorado Rockies get tromped by the Reds, but none were available, and he was flat tired from all the hiking and driving he’d done all day.

  He heard the muffled thumps of car doors shutting outside and turned, squinting into the evening sun that streamed through the west windows. The first wave of cops were showing up for dinner and to belt a few before heading home to their families. Just like daddy used to do, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking.

  If only these cops and FBI agents knew the truth about the building they were walking into every night of the week. That it was Sergeant McCall who owned this place free and clear, and sucked four grand a month, and that was just his cut, out of the local law enforcement paychecks to help fund his more lucrative deals. Deals that went down behind the backs of the GSPD, and the local FBI. Not that it took a genius to outsmart the bunch of assholes that carried badges and ID’s in this valley. McCall had met them all, and none of these guys could solve their way out of a shitter.

  Sheriff Greene waddled in with Sergeant Willis and one of the many suck-up Officers on the force, Michaelson, trailing behind. McCall smiled and gave a high wave. They waved back, unsurprised to see McCall. He was sitting in his favorite stool, visiting his brother, like he did most nights of the week before retiring home.

  McCall watched them sit down. Willis popped back up to fetch a menu for Sheriff Greene off a neighboring table, and Michaelson was laughing at something the sheriff said that he probably didn’t intend to be funny.

  “You need another one?” Dirk Squire, their trusty manager, asked.

  McCall shook his head. “Nah. Thanks.”

  Squire turned and tended to another patron sitting on the other side of the horseshoe bar. Squire was a competent, strong, man that could hold his own in a fight. And he could have run the place for a month without any input from Tyler or McCall. And if they’d given him access to the money, he’d be able to run it for years.

  McCall saw him as the keystone for The Mountain Goat, and paid him accordingly to keep him happy and loyal. Without him, the bar wouldn’t collapse, but any outside activities McCall and his brother partook in would have to be put on hold. Tyler would be chained to this place, taking orders, placing orders with vendors, cleaning glasses, and counting money. There wouldn’t be any cocaine wholesale operation, no weed distribution chain they took a percentage of to keep off the radar. Sure as hell not the opportunity, the goldmine, they were sitting on right now.

  He smiled a little, picked up his Guinness, and walked over to Sheriff Greene’s table.

  “Sheriff,” McCall nodded.

  “McCall,” Greene said, keeping his eyes on the menu. “What’s your brother got for specials tonight?”

  Sergeant Willis smirked, keeping his own eyes down as well.

  “Not sure. You’ll have to check with Dirk.”

  Greene looked past McCall to the bar. “Can you get him?”

  McCall blinked, and noticed that Willis was having trouble containing his full-fledged smile now.

  “Sure,” McCall said. “I wanted to ask you something first.”

  “Shoot.” Greene said, studying the menu again.

  “I just wanted to say I’d be happy to volunteer for the Rocky Points Music Festival that’s happening this weekend. I know you already have Richter and Jones out there, but if they need anyone else, I just wanted to make sure you know I’m interested. I could use a change of scenery.”

  Greene nodded and flipped a page. “All right. But I don’t think they’ll need it.” Then he looked up, and past McCall. “Can you get Dirk over here? I’m famished.”

  McCall nodded and turned to the bar.

  “Hey,” Greene said. “What’s with your brother? Is he all right?”

  McCall turned back. “He’s not feeling well. Some sort of bug, I guess.”

  “I saw him last night, looked like death.”

  McCall nodded. “In fact, I was going to check on him now. I’ll get Dirk.” He walked away toward the bar.

  “Can you tell him to bring us a pitcher?” Willis called after him.

  McCall gritted his teeth and walked on. He passed the bar without looking at or saying anything to Dirk, knowing Dirk didn’t need reminding of anything about doing his job efficiently, and entered the dark wood door to the back office.

  Tyler looked up at him from behind the desk. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” McCall shut the door behind him.

  Tyler’s face had a red hue on the cheeks, and he sat straight in the chair.

  “You’re looking better,” McCall said.

  Tyler nodded and the chair squeaked as he leaned toward the computer. “The doctor did me up pretty good today. Gave me some sort of vitamin concoction, and stuck me with a couple needles, right into the frickin’ stitches.”

  McCall sat down on the couch and sighed. “Well, I’ve been freezing my ass off all day up there, but everything’s set.”

  Tyler studied his brother. “So what’s the plan for tonight?”

  McCall leaned on his side, and the leather of the couch groaned under his weight. He wanted to just lie there for an hour or five, but there’d be the rest of his life to lounge around and do nothing if he chose to. If they passed over this last speed bump.

  He dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out the crisp-edged metal key. He sat up, leaned forward, and slapped it on the wood desk.

  Tyler picked it up and looked at it. “That’s to her house?”

  McCall nodded and sat back. The air in the cushion deflated slowly, and he was sucked into a deep comfort.

  “How the hell did you get that?” Tyler asked, clearly impressed.

  “Dragon’s got a locksmith, and we employed him today.”

  Tyler narrowed his eyes and nodded. “That helps.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  Chapter 36

  Wolf and Luke sat in silence on her back deck, watching the last rays of sun as they disappeared behind the western mountains. The few remaining clouds in the sky glowed bright orange, fading darker like cooling embers in a fire pit.

  The tension between them had diminished greatly since their talk. Wolf mused that Luke had become a completely different person, easy going and someone that he found easy to talk to. But as they sat conversing and enjoying another round of beers, Wolf still had a nagging feeling in his gut.

  He wondered if Luke’s involvement was going to help or hinder them. He wondered what would happen if Luke was faced with the choice of taking her brother down, or hesitating. Wolf had seen hesitation kill many soldiers on the battlefield, and something told him he was edging closer to yet another battle.

  “I’m heading in,” she said, scooting b
ack her plastic chair. “Gonna take a shower. You can go after me, then we’ll fix up that wound of yours. It probably looks like shit.”

  Wolf watched her walk to the sliding glass door.

  “Make yourself at home.” She said, unzipping her sweatshirt and getting started on the top of her blouse. “We can make some pasta when we’re done.”

  Wolf nodded and averted his eyes to the exquisite view underneath her blouse. He’d already stolen a look at that earlier, and figured it didn’t give him the right to take another. He felt himself blush a bit, and realized there was still plenty of tension between them, though it had morphed into a different kind.

  After a few minutes, he stepped inside and walked into the cozy living room. It was just around the corner from the kitchen, and had windows that looked out onto the front property of the house. There was a bookshelf with a stack of pictures and personal papers, and lots of other things besides books.

  Facing east, the space would be sunny and warm during the morning hours. Probably a room Luke never got the chance to sit and enjoy while the rays of sun streamed in. Not with her job, and with her apparent love of the outdoors. She was probably out riding a trail, or paddling a river, or riding a few miles on the motorcycle on her time off, rather than sitting down with a good book.

  She didn’t have a television, and Wolf couldn’t tell if it was her décor on the walls or not. Maybe it wasn’t even her furniture. Could have been a fully furnished rental, which would have explained the stack of boxes in the garage. Maybe there was no room for her personal stuff in the house.

  He looked back at the stack of photos in hard frames, and then bent down and pulled out four of them. The first was a washed out picture of her and her family framed in dark wood. She was little, probably ten years old, and just as cute then as she was now. Her little brother stood leaning against her. He looked to be a couple years younger, and her older brother was tall and gangly looking, in his awkward teen years, and keeping his distance from the rest of them. Her father had a bushy mustache and smiled, her mother a heavily sprayed hairdo, with a smile and eyes that looked more intelligent and aware than the Bernadette Richter of today. They all wore clothing that was way too tight for this day and age. The thing that really held Wolf’s attention for a few moments, was Luke holding her father’s hand.

  Wolf furrowed his brow at the second photo. It was Luke alone on a mountainside, eighteen or so. It was taken on the Flatirons of Boulder, the jutting sandstone geological formations that loomed over the college town. She was dressed in a huge, baggy, yellow and black flannel shirt. She had green combat boots on, with baggy pants tucked into the top of them. She had a short boyish haircut, that would have still looked cute on her if it weren’t for the scowl on her face. She glared at the camera. Defying either whoever took the photo, or the act of getting her picture taken.

  “That was when I was a lesbian.”

  Wolf turned his head to see Luke had snuck up on him.

  Luke laughed at Wolf’s surprise. Probably because he was startled at her presence, at what she had just said, and how she looked to be only wearing a white t-shirt, was the reason he looked so laughable.

  She held a towel in her hand and pressed it against her wet hair, which was combed against her scalp and draping on her shirt. She padded forward on her bare feet and stepped close, looking at the photo. She smelled like lotion and that great shampoo, or whatever it was, again.

  “I’m better now, though,” she said.

  She took the towel in both hands and scrubbed her hair as she walked away and around the corner, giving Wolf a fleeting glimpse of her white panties, which gently hugged her perfect butt.

  He took a deep breath and looked back down at the photos.

  “I took those out of my mom’s house,” she said from the kitchen.

  “Why? To hide that you were related to your brother?”

  There was no answer from the other room.

  He looked down at the third photo, and it was a picture of a young man in an Army combat uniform with a name patch that clearly said Richter in black lettering. He had shaggy blonde hair, disheveled by wind and dirtied by sand. He was standing in front of a tent with his helmet in hand, and smiling wide.

  “There’s my brother,” she said quietly. She was leaning against the wall with her legs crossed.

  Wolf nodded, and set down the pictures on the shelf. “Sorry for snooping.”

  “That’s all right. I have nothing to hide.”

  “Now,” Wolf said with raised eyebrows, then looked past her down the hallway. “Do you mind?”

  She walked back out of sight. “There’s a towel on the counter in the bathroom. Have at it. I’ll start making the food.”

  Wolf walked to the hallway, and looked to his right. Luke was bent over slightly in front of a lamp. She had just flipped it on, backlighting an oblique profile of her naked upper body underneath her shirt. He sighed quietly and walked to the bathroom door that billowed warm steam.

  Chapter 37

  McCall killed the lights to his GSPD Ford Explorer and shut off the engine. He opened the door all the way until it bounced on its hinges, and then pulled the booties out of the center console and put them in his pocket. He slipped on the leather gloves, and made a shuddering fist with each hand, stretching out the fine material. He pocketed the black ski mask and stepped out into the cool, humid evening. The clouds were a dim orange, and it would be completely dark in a matter of minutes, and then they would be able to pick their moment.

  McCall crunched along the wet gravel of the dirt road to the rear, and stepped into the running black Chevy Trail Blazer that was parked behind.

  The inside of the cab was silent, save for the low whoosh of the warm air coming out of the vents. No radio. No nonsense.

  Tyler sat inside, dressed identical to his older brother, with a black pair of sweatpants, still creased from the way they rested on the shelf at the store, a black jacket, black leather gloves, and black boots two sizes too big—by design, just in case. He would have a ski mask in his pocket, a pair of light blue booties, a knife strapped to his leg, and a silenced, untraceable, Beretta on his belt—supplied by their go-to Aspenite on the other side of the law, Dragon.

  Tyler flipped the headlights on and drove up the dirt road for a half-mile. Before they rounded the final corner he flipped them off, without McCall having to think of reminding him to do so. They’d gone over the plan, and it was clear, and they had complete faith in one another’s abilities, as they’d been tried and tested many times over the years.

  They stopped behind a grove of aspen trees, just short of Luke’s house, and turned the truck around. They parked and got out, donned their ski masks, and walked into the trees. The ground was wet from the day of rain, and the aspen leaves dripped cascades of cold water on their warm clothing when they bumped a branch.

  The house looked to be fully lit inside, which would help their efforts of sneaking up unnoticed, McCall thought, just as they’d have suspected at this time of night. He pulled his Beretta and clicked the safety off, then racked the slide. Tyler did the same, and they walked across the lawn to the side of the house.

  Chapter 38

  Wolf had enjoyed the shower. Despite the pain in the ass of having to keep his stitches from getting too wet, the water warmed his body and relaxed his still sore muscles from the exertion on the trail two nights before.

  Luke had set out some bandages and cotton, and even though she mentioned helping with the redressing of the wound, he figured he’d get it done and over with now. He drew a cotton ball across a warm stream of water and dabbed the stitches. The skin around the cut had turned completely black, and the pain was as bad as it ever was. Puss oozed out, and varying shades of red scab flared with pain as he gently scrubbed.

  He took off his towel from around his waist and wiped the mirror, then went to the window and opened it wide to let the steam escape. The cool air hit the warm air for a moment, creating a puff of cl
oud, and then poured out the screen into the dark night.

  He turned to the mirror, and was surprised to see a pair of shadows underneath the lit crack of the door.

  Was Luke standing just outside, wondering whether or not to come in?

  Wolf stood, looking at the feet in contemplation for a moment. He reached for the door and heard a faint noise, and he froze, because the noise, a crisp knock of something on wood, hadn’t come from the other side of the door. It had come from down the hall.

  Was there someone else visiting Luke’s house?

  Wolf bent down and looked underneath the door, and every muscle in his body flexed tight. There were two large feet, way too large to be Luke’s, covered in blue fabric. Like booties worn by doctors, or cops, when they didn’t want to contaminate a crime scene.

  Before Wolf could straighten back up, the door exploded in splinters above his head. Three shots cracked through the wood in quick succession, and paused. At that moment, Wolf twisted and dove into the window screen. The thin wire mesh stretched out against his head, and then gave way almost instantly, and Wolf tumbled naked out after it.

  He felt wood splinters sting his right buttock as the window frame popped and exploded. For a brief moment, he tumbled in complete disorientation, seeing only the bright light of the window flipping in his view. Then he landed hard on his right side, knocking the wind out of him. The cold of the ground was so startling he cried out and sprung to his feet as if he’d landed on a trampoline. Without thinking he sprinted into the night, and heard the spit of a suppressed weapon behind him and saw the aspen trees in front of him flash with light. A bullet slapped one of the white trunks next to his head and it sprayed his face with bark. A piece of wood dug into his open eye, stinging so bad he slapped himself in the face and almost fell over.

  “Outside! Outside!” He heard a man’s voice yell from the house. His voice was frantic, and was yelling back into the house, not out at Wolf.

  The shots stopped coming, and Wolf stole a glance over his shoulder at the windows. There was no one in the bathroom anymore, and he couldn’t see any movement behind any of the other lit panes of glass. Luke.