To the Bone (David Wolf Book 7)
Page 22
“I’ll talk to you later.”
Wolf walked away from the throngs of people, out among the long grass of the mountaintop toward the bride and groom. He waited patiently with his hands in his pockets, and he ruined a couple shots as Patterson broke her pose and looked at him.
“Just a second,” she said to Scott and walked toward Wolf.
“Sorry. I just have to leave and I wanted to say congratulations.”
“You have to leave?” She looked heartbroken, but tried to play it off. “No problem. Thanks for coming.”
Wolf nodded. “I’m sorry.”
They stood in silence for a moment, and Wolf waved to Scott.
“Congratulations, Scott.”
Scott smiled. “Thanks Dave.”
“Sir?” Patterson stared up at Wolf with a troubled expression.
“Yeah?”
“What happens if I have a kid?”
Wolf frowned. “What happens if you have a kid?”
“If I decide to have children, am I screwed?”
“Yes.”
She frowned.
“Because anyone who has a child is screwed.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Are you talking about your job?”
“Yeah. I mean, I can’t hold my job and have kids, can I?”
“I have a kid, and I hold my job.”
She gave him a look that said she was seconds from killing him.
Wolf put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re the sharpest detective I have. I’ll never let you go as long as you want the job. If you decide to have children, then we’ll work around it.”
She instantly burst into tears, and then she lunged forward and hugged him tightly, dropping her flower bouquet on the ground next to them.
Wolf stared at Scott with wide eyes and patted her back.
She pushed away and smiled so brightly he couldn’t help but return one of his own.
“Thanks. I hate that you have to leave, but thanks.” She turned and walked back to the photographer and Scott.
The photographer’s jaw dropped and he looked at Wolf with naked contempt.
Wolf walked into the steamy, beer-vapor-infused restaurant and searched the pine booths lining the windows.
“Table for one?” A disheveled looking hostess grabbed a menu and looked at him.
“No, thanks. I’m meeting that man over there.”
She dropped the menu back in its slot and left, disappearing into the sea of loud drinkers in the bar area.
Wolf walked over, loosening and taking off his tie and shoving it in his jacket pocket. Stopping at the table, he slid onto the creaky pine bench.
“You’re late.” Senator Levenworth didn’t bother looking up as he sawed into a steak that looked like a burnt hockey puck.
Wolf nodded.
“Can I get you something to drink, David?” A female voice said next to him.
“No thanks, Kim.”
She smiled warmly and looked at Levenworth.
Levenworth pointed his steak knife at the half-drunk glass of golden liquid. “Another Dewars. Less water this time, more Dewars.”
She nodded and left.
“This food is shit. This is the best place you could come up with to meet? And you’re not even getting anything?” Levenworth shook his head and took another bite.
Wolf stared at him. “I saw the bones weren’t in the back of your truck. I thought you already picked them up from the building.”
“My assistant is driving them back in a rented truck.” Levenworth set down his knife and fork, then took a long pull of his scotch and eyed Wolf over the rim of the glass. When he was done he exhaled and put down the glass with a clank. “I don’t have any obligation to help you with your request.”
Wolf said nothing.
They stared at one another until Kim came over and slid another glass of scotch in front of Levenworth.
“But I like you,” Levenworth said as he looked around the room. “And I like kids. Don’t have any of my own, but I find them tolerable.” His eyes came back to Wolf. “I sent the money via my personal foundation to the medical clinic in Scotland. Wasn’t cheap. Three hundred forty five thousand American dollars.”
Wolf said nothing.
Levenworth gripped his scotch. “The kid and his mom have a first class plane ticket that leaves tomorrow morning from Salt Lake City, and he’ll be under the knife, or whatever they use, in two days.”
Wolf nodded.
Levenworth finished his almost empty scotch and pulled over the new one. “I know you think I knew about the illegal nature of those bones. But I didn’t.”
Wolf nodded.
Levenworth stared at Wolf for a few seconds and then shook his head. “I’ve been looking at those procedures they do up there. That treatment has a sixty-five percent success rate. There’s no guarantee this is going to work for the kid.”
Wolf nodded and looked at his watch. 6:54 pm. “I’ve gotta go.” He slid to the edge of the booth and stood up. “See ya.”
“That’s it?” Levenworth looked up at Wolf with an incredulous smile.
“That’s it.”
Wolf walked through the loud bar area of “Stan’s Pub and Grill” and out through the side entrance. The door creaked and slapped shut behind him, and the bar noise was muted to almost nothing.
He crunched his way on top of the downed pine needles, through the twenty yards of forest and out onto the community center parking lot.
His dress shoes crackled as he stepped on the pebble-strewn asphalt, and he walked to the front door and went inside.
Wolf felt like he was immediately punched in the stomach, because Sarah was right there to greet him. Her smile was bright, her eyes radiant with a gleaming orb in the center of each of her pupils from the picture flash. Underneath her photo there was a brass engraving that said Sarah Muller.
“David?” A woman’s voice said.
Wolf turned. “Hi, Carol.”
Carol Fitzsimmons was a short and squat individual. With a puffy wave of white hair and thick glasses, she was in her seventies, but moved like a woman twenty years younger. She got up from the desk in the reception room and hurried over to him with a tiny outstretched hand.
Wolf shook it and smiled.
“What brings you to the Old Bank?” She asked, referring to the nickname the community building held, as it was once the bank of Rocky Points, over a hundred years prior.
Wolf stayed rooted to his spot inside the door and looked back at Sarah’s photo. “I’m here for the meeting tonight.”
Carol looked at Sarah’s photograph and back at him. “Oh, I see. The grief support group.” She gave Wolf the most compassionate smile he’d ever seen in his life and took his hand again. “Come. It was a good thing to come in here. It’s a good thing to seek help.”
Wolf nodded. “So I hear.”
“This way.”
She led him around the corner and down the hall.
He was bombarded with memories, and swore he still smelled Sarah’s perfume as he passed by her old office. With every step the floor squeaked underneath his feet, just like the last time he’d been here. With her.
And now he was here alone, smelling her perfume, and looking at her face hanging on the wall. As he followed Carol into the room, he felt a surge of something—not quite panic or regret, but something close to both. Like he was a fraud walking in there, like he really didn’t mean it, because he probably didn’t really need the help, and he was being disrespectful to these people who were here for a real reason.
There were seven of them sitting in a circle, sipping coffee and happily chatting: four men, ranged from younger than Wolf to twice Wolf’s age, and three women, all much older than Wolf.
They hushed at the sight of him and stood up from their chairs.
“Everyone, this is David Wolf.”
Wolf swallowed and approached, and shook each of their hands, and with each new greeting, Wolf felt a tiny surge of s
trength well up inside, like he was standing much taller by the time the round of introductions were done. And as he finally sat down the apprehension was gone, replaced by the unrelenting vision of a smug, knowing smirk plastered on Margaret Hitchens’s face.
THE END.
David Wolf Series In Order
Gut Decision (A David Wolf Short Story) – Sign up for the new release newsletter at http://www.jeffcarson.co/p/newsletter.html and receive a complimentary copy.
NEW! The Appointed (Wolf #1 and #2 Box Set) (Save $1.99)
Foreign Deceit (Wolf #1)
The Silversmith (Wolf #2)
Alive and Killing (Wolf #3)
Deadly Conditions (Wolf #4)
Cold Lake (Wolf #5)
Smoked Out (Wolf #6)
To the Bone (Wolf #7)
Wolf #8 – Coming Winter, 2015
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