Dark Mountain (The David Wolf Series Book 10)

by Jeff Carson

  He stared into nothing for another few moments.

  “I also hope you realize that nothing was your fault.” He glared into the cellphone camera for a moment then sat back. “So what do I want from you? Why am I sending you this? Well, first, I wanted to explain myself. Check. And, sorry, but I must call on my fellow Ranger one last time. Sometimes endings are messy, and this one’s going to be particularly bad. So, please, send somebody else here to clean me up and don’t let my brother see me with my head falling out of my skull. I’ve asked him to deliver my cellphone to you. I told him it contained an important video and to not watch it under any circumstances. He’s to make sure you watch it before returning home. He’ll comply. I told him it was his mission.” Paul rolled his eyes. “It’s a thing we do. He’s gifted with a gun because he always wanted to be like us. He loves to act the part. He’s a real good kid.” Tears reflected on Paul’s cheeks. “A good man. He’ll be better off without me.”

  Paul stared at the gun on the table for a long time, then his eyes slid up to the cellphone camera lens.

  “It’s a big favor, I know, and you sure as hell don’t owe me anything, but still … I know I can count on you. You were always there for me, Wolfie. Goodbye, brother.”

  His chair squeaked as he stood up and walked to the cellphone. Again, his face filled the view and tears dropped on the screen. Then it went black.

  Wolf stared at the computer for a time, letting a tear slide down his cheek as he thought of the sadness Paul Womack had endured over his life.

  CHAPTER 49

  Wolf opened MacLean’s office door and leaned inside. “Sir?”

  “Wolf, come in.” MacLean gestured across his desk. “I want you to meet Dr. Tennimen.”

  A man with a head of tight brown curls stood and shook Wolf’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” The doctor’s hand was soft and he smelled like spicy cologne. He pulled a wool sweater over the waist of his corduroy pants and sat back down.

  District Attorney White sat next to him, giving Wolf a hawk-eye stare. “You look like crap.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Sorry, no chair.” MacLean said.

  Wolf was unsure why, but they all seemed to be staring at him. “What’s happening?”

  DA White took to picking a piece of lint off his pants.

  After clearing his throat, MacLean said, “Dr. Tennimen, why don’t you introduce yourself and let us know what’s going on.”

  “Right. Thank you. I’m Doctor Tennimen and I’m a psychologist at Taos University, specializing in cognitive-behavioral therapy as well as therapy involving traumatic brain injuries. I work with Ethan Womack on a weekly basis, and I’ve gotten to know him well over the last two years. They called me in to assist in the interview.”

  Wolf nodded. “Yes, I heard.”

  The doctor nodded, flicking a glance at MacLean.

  “I’ll cut to the chase. Ethan’s not speaking,” MacLean said. “Because he wants to speak to you.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “He says it’s his mission that he speak to you, and only you.”

  “Okay.”

  Tennimen shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable, but not nearly as uneasy as DA White, who stood and began pacing at the back of the office.

  “Ethan suffered a horrific fall when he was a child,” Tennimen said. “He fell down a flight of concrete stairs, cracking his head open. He had depressed skull fractures, meaning the bone pushed into his brain, causing extensive damage: intracerebral hematoma, subdural hematoma. The arachnoid membrane—”

  “Hey, Doc, now you have my brain bleeding.”

  Everyone looked at MacLean.

  “What?”

  “Doctor Tennimen,” DA White said, “I think what our eloquent sheriff means to say is, can you please stick to using layman’s terms?” He looked at Wolf. “This is to give you a little background before you go in there, okay, Detective? Please, continue, Doctor.”

  “Ethan Womack suffered … severe brain injury when he was four years old. For years, he was set back considerably, mentally and physically. Eventually, however, his neuroplasticity … his, er, brain compensated. Meaning, the parts that weren’t damaged took over, and the parts that were damaged died.

  “For instance, growing up after the injury, Ethan Womack had very good motor skills, but lacked those of communication. He could throw and catch almost immediately after his recovery, but his speech abilities tumbled backward. Like before the accident, he was athletic in certain sports, such as basketball, but when it came to spelling his name, it took three years for him to remember the order of the letters. He could not, and still cannot, recognize a tune. Cannot sing.”

  “But he likes shooting guns,” MacLean said.

  “Yes. His father used to shoot with Ethan and his older brother on their family land. That’s something he’s continued to be passionate about.”

  MacLean nodded.

  “His social skills are lacking. He went to the local public school and was put in the special-education program, where he was one of two kids. Growing up, he had no friends except his older brother, Paul Womack.

  “Paul was fiercely protective of his little brother, and from what I can gather, used to beat up anyone who’d insult or make fun of him. As for Ethan Womack as an adult, I can tell you that as a thirty-nine-year-old he’s much the same as a child. He’s gentle. He’s kind.”

  “He was charged with aggravated assault,” MacLean said. “Isn’t that how you two hooked up?”

  Tennimen nodded. “Ethan’s mother had just died from ovarian cancer and, according to the other employees at the gun shop, the other man had egged him on. Making fun of his mother in a sexual way. As far as I’m concerned, the other man was a monster and deserved what he got.”

  MacLean pulled the corners of his mouth down. “Can’t argue with that.”

  “Where was I?” Tennimen looked flustered. “Despite the charges brought against him, and despite his outward appearance of being … dangerous, he—”

  “You mean, the fifty-caliber rifle he drives around with in his car? Or the 1911? Or the bulletproof clothing he wears? Or the arsenal he has in his backyard? The armor-piercing rounds?”

  Tennimen’s face boiled red. “That arsenal was inherited from his father, who also passed away within the last five years. Another thing he inherited from his father was an obsession about self-protection. I think the accident somehow enhanced that obsession in him.”

  MacLean nodded, keeping the skeptical look.

  “May I continue?”

  “Yes, Doctor, please.” White’s eyes flashed at MacLean.

  “One thing we’ve been working on, too, is his trust in strangers. He’s overly trusting. He’s been duped by email scams twice. His employer at T ’n’ T Guns has to monitor him when he’s on the computer. If you were to approach him on the street and tell him you have a present for him, and that you’d like him to come with you, you’d have him hooked.” The doctor snapped his fingers. “Simple as that.

  “On the opposite side of the coin, he’s terrified of social situations with multiple people involved. Which is a strange dichotomy and one we’re trying to work through. It’s interesting from a medical point of view. It seems that if he’s expected to engage, he’s terrified. Whereas if somebody engages with him, it’s like the social-anxiety switch isn’t flipped.”

  “Unless we’re trying to interview him about his involvement in a murder,” MacLean said. “Then he gets all the social anxiety in the world, because he’s not talking.”

  Tennimen held up his hand, conceding the point. “It’s not an exact science. Clearly he has a special need to speak to Detective Wolf, here, and he’s subject to moods and emotions like the rest of us. I’m just telling you what I know.”

  The doctor’s face turned red and he seemed through talking.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Wolf said. “That information will definitely help.”

  “You’
re welcome.”

  “Well?” MacLean clapped and stood, which made Tennimen close his eyes.

  The sheriff and district attorney stared at one another for a beat.

  White rubbed his face, then gave a nod like he was authorizing a nuclear detonation. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 50

  “Why did you come to Rocky Points, Ethan?”

  “I was on a mission for my brother. He says you guys were in the army together.”

  Wolf bristled at his usage of the present tense when describing Paul. “And what exactly was the mission?”

  “To go to Rocky Points and find you. And to deliver Paul’s cellphone, ’cause he put a movie on it for you to watch.”

  Leaning forward in his chair, he was wide-eyed and answering without hesitation. Ethan Womack’s social-anxiety switch was in the off position.

  “We looked at your work computer and saw you did some Google searches on me, Ethan.”

  “Yes.”

  “And why did you do that?”

  “I was working that day. I wanted intel. My brother always says that not gathering enough intel is a sure way to a failed mission.”

  Wolf nodded. “And then what? After work that day, what did you do?”

  “I drove up to Colorado.”

  “Okay. And you came to Rocky Points, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Wolf could feel MacLean’s impatience seeping through the one-way glass. This exchange was too laborious, and to get a full picture of what was happening in this man’s mind was going to take three hours at this rate.

  Intensity burned behind Ethan’s eyes. He was excited to be here.

  He’s gifted with a gun because he always wanted to be like us. He loves to act the part.

  Wolf straightened in his chair and let his eyebrows slide down. “I want you to give me a full debriefing, soldier.”

  Ethan’s eyes flashed. “Yes, sir.”

  “Proceed.”

  “I … I came into Rocky Points and checked into the Edelweiss Hotel. I went to your house, but you weren’t home. Nobody answered your door. And then I saw a lady and her kid there, and I didn’t want to bother them, so I left.”

  “You knew where I worked. Why didn’t you come to see me at the Sheriff’s Department?”

  Ethan blinked rapidly. “I … I …”

  “You what, soldier?” He kept his tone just shy of drill sergeant.

  “I was afraid.”

  “Afraid to come in to talk to me?”

  Ethan looked down and nodded.

  Wolf dialed down the drill-sergeant routine. “Okay. What happened next?”

  “I watched you.”

  “You watched me?”

  “I was … gathering intel.”

  “And then what?”

  “I did that for the first day. And also the second day. I followed you in my truck, trying to talk to you. But I was scared.”

  Wolf nodded for him to continue.

  “And a man approached me. Told me he knew what I was doing. That I was following David Wolf and he was going to tell on me. I told him, no, I was on a mission to talk to you. I showed him the cellphone and he took it. And he watched the video and—”

  “Did you watch the video?” Wolf asked.

  Ethan shook his head. “No, sir. Paul ordered me not to watch it, sir. No matter what.”

  “Proceed.”

  “He watched the video. And he started asking me questions about my mission, and I talked to him for a long time.”

  “What did this man look like?”

  “He had red hair and muscles. He was the guy in the shack.”

  Wolf nodded. “Did he use his name?”

  Ethan looked up at the ceiling, then back at Wolf. “Greg.”

  “What happened after you met him?”

  “He had a friend, the other man in the shack. The one who shot me.” His eyes glazed over.

  “Ethan.”

  No response.

  Wolf sensed that Ethan was back in the shack.

  “Soldier!”

  Ethan blinked. “Yes, sir.”

  “What happened that day? The day you met Greg. I want a full debriefing.”

  “Yes, sir. Greg took my phone. He took my car keys. He and his friend told me they were going to help me set a meeting with David Wolf and that I should come with them.

  “I slept in their house. They had cows everywhere. I stayed there for a day and they asked me questions about my life and my head.

  “We shot guns and talked more, and they said that they were planning a meeting with David Wolf. With you. And then when it was nighttime we drove out to a dirt road with my truck and their truck. They drove my truck. They told me it was a confusing drive and they needed to. When we got there, a storm was coming in. There was lightning.”

  Ethan blinked and looked down at the table.

  “Go on, Ethan. Got where? Where did you stop?”

  “We stopped on the dark dirt road in the trees. One of them walked away. They were on radios with each other. And a car came and they put up my truck’s hood and made me stand next to it. They said you were coming and I needed to wait, and they went into the trees. But it wasn’t you who pulled over. It was two other men. Greg and the man with the white beard came out and shot one of them and hit the other one in the head. Then I started crying.”

  Ethan began to weep.

  “It’s okay, Ethan. It’s over now. You’re just telling me what happened.”

  Ethan nodded. “Greg put handcuffs on me and pulled me to the other car. He put my hands on it. He gave me a phone and told me to hold it. Then he took the phone and threw it in the woods. They all had rubber gloves on, so I thought they were trying to make me look bad, because since I didn’t have gloves on I could be leaving fingerprints and be blamed for what they were doing. I told them that, and they laughed at me.”

  Wolf nodded. “And then what?”

  “They picked up the dead man off the side of the road and put him inside the trunk. And they pushed the car off the edge of the road. Then they put the other man into their pickup and they put handcuffs on me. I rode in the truck cab with the man who’d got hit. The white-bearded one drove my truck and we followed him up into the mountains to the shack.

  “They put me inside and chained me to the table. And they took off the other man’s clothes and put him on the straw.” He looked at Wolf. “Your friend. My friend.”

  Wolf nodded. “And then what, Ethan?”

  “And then the man with the white beard shot me.” He stared into the past. “But they took the chains off me. They scared me so bad. I just wanted them to stop. I got up and escaped, and saw my truck was there. I … I …” Clenching his eyes, Ethan bared his teeth and put a hand to his head. “I shot them. Because they were going to kill me. And they were going to kill you, and the girl. Greg was hitting you. They shot me.”

  “Your tournament rifle was inside your truck,” Wolf said.

  Ethan nodded. “I took it out of the case and shot the man with the beard. Greg got hit, too.”

  “Yeah,” he said, deciding Ethan had a way with understatements.

  Ethan stopped talking now and sat rigidly, staring at the wall.

  “Is that all, soldier?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They sat in silence for a beat.

  The door opened and Tennimen walked inside. “Hello, Ethan.”

  “Hello.”

  “You did a great job. Thank you.”

  Ethan nodded, clearly confused as to how Tennimen could know anything about what had just transpired.

  “Can I see you for a second?” Wolf asked.

  “Uh … yes, of course.”

  Wolf led the doctor out into the observation room, where MacLean and DA White were standing with folded arms.

  When the door clicked shut MacLean said, “Good job with the military angle to get him talking.”

  Tennimen looked at DA White. “You’re not going to recommend prosecu
tion of this fellow, are you? Clearly he’s been manipulated from the very beginning.”

  White shook his head. “There’s no way I’m recommending prosecution.”

  “Good,” Tennimen said.

  “Did you see the Paul Womack video?” Wolf asked the doctor.

  “No. What video?”

  “Why?” White asked.

  “Ethan Womack doesn’t know his brother’s dead yet.”

  Tennimen nodded. “I’ll break the news to him later today. I’d prefer to tell him in a different environment.”

  Wolf looked at MacLean. “Did you see Paul’s body?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Where was it?”

  “Back of the house.”

  “Where exactly?”

  “Halfway between the shed and the back door. Lying in the dirt. Why?”

  Wolf left out the door.

  “Hey.” MacLean followed him into the squad room. “Hey, where are you going?”

  Wolf’s boots chirped on the clean floor as he swerved through the desks. “New Mexico.”

  CHAPTER 51

  A hairdryer breeze skimmed over Wolf’s skin, carrying the sharp scent of sagebrush and bunchgrass. A hawk circled in the contrail-streaked sky, screeching at two smaller birds attacking it.

  Two shooting berms cast long afternoon shadows in the distance. Behind them, rolling hills butted up against taller, pine-covered mountains overlooking Taos, miles to the southeast.

  Buzzing flies had led Wolf to the exact spot between the outside shack and the back door to the Womack house, and now he stared down at a large maroon stain on the otherwise tan-colored ground.

  The lowering sun scorched the back of his neck and he longed for a cool Rocky Points breeze.

  Slinging the shovel off his shoulder, he stabbed it into the earth. Pulling up a wedge-shaped chunk of the red-tinged soil, he placed it in a plastic lawn bag.

  Sometimes endings are messy.

  With that thought in mind, he continued cleaning up Paul Womack’s ending.

  “I pushed him.”

  Wolf was startled by the non-sequitur coming out of Paul Womack’s mouth. The man had just succumbed to some sort of psychotic episode and shot and killed a mother and her child in front of dozens of other women and children.