Wounded Badge Vista

by Kieran York

Lyle pointed to the sofa and chairs. His hostile, superior, previous presentation had changed. “Please be seated, Sheriff. The more I talked with Courtney, the more I’m concerned. Kirk has never done anything like this before. He always keeps in touch with his mother. And she hasn’t heard anything. Do you have any news?”

  “We haven’t spotted his truck or him,” Royce answered. “Mrs. Dillard, had Kirk talked about meeting a woman for brunch yesterday? Were you aware of this?”

  Nervously, she answered, “Not at all. During his teen years, he always kept me in the loop. His romantic endeavors were always shared. College, I’m sure he probably held back. Yesterday morning, he called, said he was late; he was having something to eat with a friend. He didn’t indicate it was someone he was seeing. The conversation was only a few minutes.”

  Courtney Dillard made every attempt to control her fear. Gwen had mentioned to the sheriff that Courtney was somewhat personable. In fact, Gwen had also said that she was the social one of pair. Divorce had set Lyle’s social stock plummeting.

  Royce questioned, “Would you say Kirk was a typical post-college guy. Dating, enjoying his life?”

  Courtney answered, “I think he’s fairly typical. But he wasn’t a playboy. He was never wild. He didn’t have his father’s narcissism.”

  Lyle’s head lifted. “He didn’t have my confidence. He found social skills difficult. And don’t think that because I’ve become prosperous, he was interested in money and power.”

  “For god sakes, Lyle, stop. He wasn’t a weakling. And he didn’t begrudge you your big bucks. His agenda was attempting to save the world. Not take billionaires’ money from them.”

  Lyle squinted hatred. “He dumped bullshit on the sacred ground of wealth any time he could.”

  Courtney apologized, “Sheriff, my ex-husband and son didn’t have the same interests or the same beliefs. Kirk was not all about money.”

  Lyle’s fists squeezed tightly. “Unlike his mother.”

  “I see,” Royce said. She’d picked up on the bad energy. “Any reason that Kirk might have disliked enforcers?”

  Lyle’s voice lifted, “I have no idea why he would be suspected of shooting Nick Hogan. God, he’s never even fired a gun before.”

  Royce looked up. “It’s unusual that a youth raised in the area wouldn’t have tried hunting.”

  Courtney shrugged, “He wasn’t the kind of young man to want to hunt. Even in Wyoming. My brother wanted to take him hunting. He wanted no part of it. Kirk has nothing against deputies.”

  “I’m trying to find out everything I can. If either of you can think of anything, please let me know. This afternoon we’d like both of you to come into the Sheriff’s Department Offices in Timber. We have the office recording with Undersheriff Hogan and Kirk. It isn’t a good quality. And the man identifying himself as Kirk Dillard only said a few words. You know, those kinds of one-word answers. We’d like you to see if you can identify the voice as belonging to Kirk.”

  When Royce reached the door, Courtney uttered, “Sheriff, Kirk is not a violent person. He had no reason to harm anyone.”

  “We are not only concerned that he gave ID information, and it is his truck that has been identified, but also that he seems to have taken off. We don’t know all the answers. He certainly doesn’t sound like someone involving himself in crime. Particularly a homicide.”

  Royce was also worried about the ‘hot’ woman. The reason for track phone. On her way down to her SUV, Royce mulled the investigation. When she got to the Crystal Sheriff’s Department, she was still caught up in the case.

  “Sheriff,” Deputy Sam Dawson greeted her. His smile was not its usual one that could light up his face.

  As if startled, she glanced at Sam. “Deep in thought. Sam, the Dillards have no idea where Kirk is. It’s not making sense.” She motioned to his desk. “Have a seat, Deputy.” When they’d sat across from one another, Royce was silent for a moment. Finally, she said, “And, I want to talk with you. I know that you have primarily worked with me at the main office in Timber. I’d like you to stand in for Nick. Temporarily, as Acting Undersheriff, until he returns. If you could handle the Crystal branch, we can both have a better handle on this investigation.”

  “What about Terry?” he questioned.

  “I know Terry has been working mostly with Nick, up here. But someone is going to need to be, not only with Nick, but also Beverly. I think if she’s excellent at the security job of watching Beverly, and the family. It would be best.”

  “I’d be glad to help. I don’t want to step on any toes.”

  “Sam, you have much more experience than Terry. She understands that. And she’ll understand she’s needed. Everyone needs to do the job they will be best at now. We’re going to be shorthanded as it is. And Nick will be coming back.”

  “Absolutely, Sheriff.” Sam’s usual joyful demeanor was dimmed. “And we’re going to find his shooter. I need to go back to Timber and get things in my locker to bring up here.”

  “Sam, I’d like you to get the recording of the voice that came in at the office on the call to Nick. When you get back to Timber, get it, and then call Lyle and Courtney Dillard to meet you there to see if they can identify to voice. As I think about it, the call is so grainy; it might be that someone attempted to hide his voice. But then, there are pockets in the mountains where it’s difficult to hear. Just let me know if the Dillards can recognize it as being Kirk’s voice. Or if they can give you anything that might help us.”

  “Will do, Sheriff.” He stood, patted Chance’s head, and then walked away.

  Chance moved closer to Royce. Royce’s face was quickly covered with her hands. She swabbed away the trickling tears. When the Sheriff’s Department substation in Crystal was opened, Nick was so happy. He looked so proud to have his own Undersheriff’s Office.

  Royce closed her eyes, and dried them. She didn’t want to cry when she went to the hospital. But even the memory of happiness saddened her. Under her breath, she whispered to Chance and no one, “I want Nick back.”

  ***

  The hospital was quiet. The quieter hospitals were, the more distorted the time warp felt to her. As Royce stepped off the elevator, she saw Deputy Terry standing sentry to the East Wing. Terry greeted Royce, “Beverly is in ICU with Nick. They’re taking him to get him ready to prep him for surgery.”

  “Terry, I’ll go in and see her in a moment,” Royce spoke softly. “I want to talk with you. I just put Sam in charge of the Crystal Division. And I want you permanently guarding Nick’s family. I put him…” Royce’s words stumbled.

  “Sheriff, Sam told me a few minutes ago. I know he’s had much more experience than I have.” Terry was not deferring simply because she was dating Sam, but her sincerity was genuine about his being the best choice. “And I’m glad to be here for Beverly.”

  “Terry, you would be capable in either job. But Sam is our go-to tech genius, and we’re going to be calling on him. I want your concentration completely on the Hogan family. No interruptions. Plus, you can accompany Bev into the Women’s room.” Royce smiled. “Besides, this is not the time to worry about anything except Nick. How is he today?”

  “They’re getting ready to take him back into surgery. From what I can gather, there was some bleeding so they need to open him back up.” Terry cringed. “Emotions in hospitals are like pressure cookers. I can almost feel the divining of a future. Bev is barely hanging on. Royce, I lost my brother to a war. I’m not sure I could take losing the man I love. That’s one of the things I thought about when Sam and I began dating. Losing someone I love. How could I take it?”

  Royce recalled meeting Terry after her brother’s funeral. Royce had been standing guard over a group of protesters that were trying to disrupt the military funeral because he was gay. Her parents had lost one child, and didn’t want Terry to become a policewoman. They couldn’t stand the thought of losing her.

  “Terry, we do what we have to do. I know it’s a dif
ficult decision.”

  “Being with him every moment and living each of those moments is the best we can do. Bev is so brave.”

  “Yes.” Royce patted her shoulder. “I feel sorry for Hertha and all the wives and husbands, too.”

  “Hertha’s so tranquil and calm about everything.” Terry smiled. “She’s a puppy and kitty vet, so I’ll bet she’s seen it all.”

  Royce nodded affirmatively. “I’ll just step in to see Nick a minute.”

  In the room, Royce examined Nick’s face. His bandaged head, coloring, and shallow breathing suddenly angered Royce. How could anyone hurt him like this. She touched his hand.

  Beverly leaned to kiss his cheek. “Royce, I’m not sure how long this surgery will be, but yesterday when he was in surgery, I thought each moment was an eternity.” She squeezed Royce’s arm. “I remember all our partings, every single day…each time he left; I thought I was sending every bit of good luck, prayers, blessings, everything, along with him.”

  “Bev, I recall one time he told me that it wasn’t fair of him to ask you to marry a deputy. But he said you make him a better version of himself.”

  Beverly looked away, out the window. There were two birds on the ledge. When two attendants came in to move Nick, the birds seemed frenzied. “I love Nick so much.”

  The family of a fallen enforcer, how could anyone hurt them so?” Royce whispered, “I’ll give you time alone with him. And if there’s anything at all you need, let me know.”

  In the hall, Terry greeted Gwen. Her face changed as she examined Royce’s expression. “Are you okay?”

  “Gwen, I won’t be okay until Nick is back on duty.”

  ***

  Returning back in her office, Royce spent time looking through records, checking on any possible link to the crime. For two hours, she worked diligently, and watched for the phone call.

  Finally, she got a call from Bev. Nick was out of surgery, and in recovery. She would keep them posted.

  The sheriff then sat at her desk surveying the evidence. Two witnesses saw the truck, and a man they described as being in his thirties. With shaggy hair. Scraggly hair. Kirk could have been wearing a wig. But it just wasn’t making sense. Why would he commit a crime with his own truck? Wounded Badge Memorial was certainly out of the way, and rarely busy. Perhaps he thought he would use a disguise. He would pick a fairly out of the way spot to meet a lawman. And he would get by with murder. Someone thought they could get by with it. Someone ambushed a badge.

  Who was the woman Kirk was going to meet for brunch? He’d said it was someone he’d just met. On a whim, she called D.A. Mike Parker. She asked if she had enough with the call, and the truck, to get a search warrant to check Kirk’s address. The townhouse rental probably didn’t have much information, since Kirk had only recently moved in. Mike agreed, stating that if there was a problem, the chances were his father, Lyle, would probably okay it. He was looking for his son.

  Royce drove to the townhouse after she got the search warrant. If something didn’t pan out, where could she next search? Nick’s collars, arrests, were usually settled disputes. One was happy; one wasn’t. But most were not unhappy with Nick. Nicks dialogue was always open. He loved the idea of justice. Some events in life have no thought-out plot, Royce considered.

  The sheriff didn’t believe she knew the killer. And probably Nick didn’t know the killer. There were two material witnesses, but they weren’t near enough. Royce continued to reload motives, possible plots, and people. Finally, she whispered to Chance, “Life is just one big morality play. Gibberish, with no homicidal litmus test.”

  Royce pulled up to the townhouse. She and Chance exited, and went to the manager of the complex’s office. The manager quickly agreed to open the door, and Royce looked around. Kirk’s living was neat, nothing out of the ordinary. A look in the bathroom showed that the young man might have gotten ready for a date. The lingering scent of shaving lotion hung in the bathroom.

  Tidy, Royce thought. To describe the home in one word – tidy. Kirk seemed to have kept a carefully tidy home. He may have cleaned it prior to having a woman over, to impress her. Or perhaps he had a cleaning company in once a week. Royce took a pillowcase from the bed, and a shirt that had been carefully rehung. She explained to the manager that she would need the articles of clothing for scents to be used by Chance.

  When she returned to her vehicle, Royce bundled the clothing in an airtight plastic bag. If there was a sighting, she would use it to give Chance a scent to search.

  Royce returned to her office. The TV, radio, and newspapers had been alerted early on. A few clues, but nothing that panned out. Timber and all the nearby counties were searching. A BOLO was issued to all enforcement in Colorado.

  Searching files, ideas, and past cases, took Royce past dark. Hertha called to ask if she could bring something for Royce to eat.

  “You missed your dinner.”

  “Sorry. I wanted to see the kids. Hertha, something isn’t right about this case. It just doesn’t make sense. It’s an attempted murder case, and tomorrow I’m going to go search a hobo camp, and a prospector. There is nothing to go on. Nothing that I’m believing.”

  “Meaning?”

  “The kid, Kirk. I don’t think he did it. It doesn’t feel right. And Nick didn’t have many, if any, enemies. He just didn’t have anyone who hated him enough to kill him.”

  “Come home. The kiddoes won’t be in bed for another hour. They need to see you, Royce. I need to see you.” There was pain in her voice.

  “Okay, I’ll just cross the street and be with my family.”

  Royce heard her lover, “Royce, I’m going to be watching at the door. If you aren’t here in three minutes, I’ll be over there for you.”

  Smiling, the sheriff acquiesced. “I’m on my way. Tell the kids get their favorite books together, and we’ll read.”

  “I think they left a bookmark on the last one you didn’t finish.”

  “We’ll finish it now.” Royce sighed, “And I love you, Hertha. I love you for what you go through worrying about me.”

  “Just hurry, Royce. I miss you so much.”

  The sheriff hung up, and then scratched Chance’s ears a moment. “Let’s go enjoy our family, girl.”

  As Royce saw the porch light go on, her thoughts turned to Nick. On this night, he would not be returning home. But maybe soon.

  Chapter 3

  Morning came too soon. Royce had spent another restless night. Even after the kid’s reading night, she found she couldn’t really shake the thought of how Nick was doing. She had hoped that Vannie and Antero, in their childhood imagination and joy, would reassure her of the good in the world. As they read the remainder of their book, they discussed characters, plot, and their take on the events between pages. It was always fun – a shared discovery.

  Yet the usual spark of fun was somewhat muted. Even the children knew that Nick had been critically shot. They knew Royce was also imperiled – if someone was shooting sheriffs and deputies. There was always an unspoken danger. Royce remembered her own father, and fearing for his safety. Before she was twenty, her darkest fear happened. Royce’s father, Sheriff Grady Madison, was shot dead.

  Now Royce faced the possible death of her best friend. They had started their friendship as two young deputies. They were competitors. Royce thought back about it. He annoyed her. He teased her, thinking that he would be promoted to sheriff long before she would. Whoever heard of a female sheriff, he would question. With a glare, she answered. It was happening more and more throughout the country.

  When the time came, Royce was selected sheriff. After answering the question by showing her valor, honor, strength, intelligence, and raw courage.

  Over a decade and a half later, both Timber City and Crystal Village grew in population. Crystal burgeoned by the thousands. It was now a ski town, with elite, monied people scurrying to move there. Royce recommended that Nick become the Undersheriff of Crystal. Because there could o
nly be one sheriff per county, and both Timber and Crystal were communities in Timber County, Nick couldn’t be named sheriff. But they knew they were partners, and they worked together beautifully. Royce hated the thought of working without Nick at her side.

  And while Royce attempted to make the morning more normalized, she noticed Hertha was also trying to keep the breakfast conversation upbeat. “I’ve got two little kittens to spay and neuter. Little black cats named Gert and Vlad. They’re brother and sister, just like you two.”

  Antero chuckled. “Mom, we won’t be getting operations.”

  Royce laughed. The music playing soft, easy-listening, would normally help get the morning started with tranquilly. Vannie asked, “Do we get to play with Gert and Vlad?”

  Hertha answered, “I’m hoping you’ll help entertain them when they wake.” With the enthusiasm she always had for her patients, she added, “They are so adorable. Their owner said that they have a way of mocking her. And that they consider their owner to be their personal assistant.”

  Laughter, even strained, felt good, Royce thought. “So, you two are going to be Vlad and Gert’s personal assistants?”

  “Mom always says the dogs and cats are boarding at a special, fun summer camp,” Antero said. “The sick ones aren’t always thrilled to be here. But we make most of them better.”

  Royce nodded, “I know they all are getting great care.”

  Vannie’s eyes misted. “I wish Mom could operate on Nick and make him better.”

  “Hon, Nick is getting the best care by the finest nurses and doctors,” Hertha explained. “Those folks are doing their best to make him well.” She squeezed Vannie’s hand. “I promise.”

  Hertha and Royce traded glances. They knew that Nick’s children, Sara and Andy Hogan, were thinking the same kinds of thoughts. “Bev has so much pressure right now,” Royce said. “I’m glad that you two are their friends. I’m glad you talk with them. It helps Bev feel better that her children have good friends. All the spouses of deputies band together and are there for one another. And the kids do the same.”