The Silversmith (David Wolf Book 2)

by Jeff Carson

  THE SILVERSMITH

  By Jeff Carson

  Copyright © 2013 Jeff Carson

  All rights reserved.

  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.

  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)

  Sign up for the newsletter and keep up to date about new books (which are always discounted for the first 48 hours) and receive a complimentary copy of Gut Decision by clicking here -- jeffcarson.co/p/newsletter.html.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 1

  Monday — 9:08 am

  Wolf sat motionless in the stiff wooden chair as a trickle of sweat rolled from his armpit, down his torso, and against his tucked-in uniform shirt. The council meeting was progressing at a no-nonsense pace, and what started out for Wolf as a case of sweaty palms had quickly escalated to an all-out body drenching.

  The smell of glazed doughnuts and burnt coffee filled the air, and a bright beam of sunlight shone through the distorted window, illuminating a swimming cloud of dust particles.

  The deafening collective murmur faded as a wave of hushes swept across the packed, standing room only town hall.

  Wolf kept still as the County Council members and the Mayor passed their votes toward the Chairman at the end of the table on stage.

  Gary Connell collected all eight votes, seven for the council sitting at the front of the room, representing the collective political clout and wisdom of the entirety of Sluice County, and one for the Mayor of Rocky Points, and stacked them in a neat pile.

  Five votes. That’s what Wolf needed; the majority vote of the eight people on stage to become the next sheriff of Sluice County. One of them had a son Wolf had beaten to a pulp seven days ago, and another had a son they’d been questioning all last evening down at headquarters about the suspicious death of the young teen, Jerry Wheatman. And, of course, the Mayor’s son wouldn’t have been at the station with his father until 11 pm last night, nor would he be destined for a few long months of court procedures, if it weren’t for Wolf’s detective work.

  Wolf knew these two men alone had influence over the other five votes on that stage. Margaret Hitchens was unflappable, and would undoubtedly vote for Wolf. But the other five? Their votes were persuadable, and now their votes were etched in pen on those tiny sheets of paper.

  Wolf flinched as hot breath moistened his left ear. “You got this. You got this.” Deputy Tom Rachette patted his shoulder from behind with one loud slap, which attracted a few glances their way, then sat back in his chair a row behind.

  “Yeah, you got this.” Nate Watson, his long-time teammate on the football field growing up, and now lifelong best friend, sat next to him. The veins were bulging from his forearms, and he bent the Styrofoam cup in his hand to the point just before breaking.

  Nate used to be his hard-nosed running back, always there to block even the largest of guys for Wolf in the backfield. Now he had that same intense look Wolf had seen a million times, like he needed to protect Wolf, but he couldn’t find who to bash his shoulder pads into.

  Wolf gave him a quick slap on the knee.

  Nate flicked him an annoyed glance and glared forward again. Eyes on the defense.

  Wolf’s mother was to his right, leaning forward and bouncing her leg, with eyes glued to the front of the room as well.

  They were sitting in the middle rows of the large room with a lot of bodies between him and the small stage in front, but as luck would have it, Wolf had a clear view of the back of Derek Connell’s head.

  Connell’s closely shaved, blond, flattop hair was unmistakable in the front row. When they had entered the building twenty minutes earlier, Connell had already been there. Since then, his head hadn’t turned more than ten degrees.

  A good-looking man Wolf had never seen was sitting to Connell’s immediate right. He wore a denim shirt, jeans, cowboy boots, and lounged back with his cowboy hat on his chest, like he didn’t have a care in the world. His facial hair was just past a five o’clock shadow by design, shaved neatly around his neck. His medium length surfer-blond hair was deeply grooved and shiny, like he’d dunked his head in a bucket of gel then combed it.

  Wolf didn’t understand the man’s presence, so he didn’t like it one bit.

  The microphone squealed as Gary palmed it, and then leaned back to speak to the Mayor in a hushed whisper. They nodded their heads, and Gary leaned forward. “Okay, all the votes are in. Derek Connell. Eight votes to none.”

  Wolf’s face flushed as the room’s collective gasp echoed off the hundred-year-old walls.

  “Awwwwww!” Rachette’s voice was loud in Wolf’s ear, snapping him out of his stunned state.

  “Mr. Connell, do you accept this appointment by the convened County Council as the new Sheriff of Sluice County, Colorado?” Gary continued.

  Derek Connell stood from his front row position, pushing his chair back with a loud rake that was barely audible over the crowd noise. “I do, Chairman.”

  “Mr. Connell. This job is to not be taken lightly. Please stand before the council and raise your right hand. Do you swear to…”

  “Ssssssssscrew this.” Rachette shoved his head in between Wolf and Nate. His pupils were pinpoints, eyes fixated on the muscle-bound frame of Derek Connell, Sheriff Derek Connell, who was now speaking with his right arm raised at the front of the room.

  “Are you kidding me?” Nate Watson looked around the room, and then stood up. “Are you kidding me?”

  The room went silent for a moment at Nate’s outburst, and then Gary continued swearing in his only son as the new Sheriff of Sluice County.

  Wolf looked down the line of council members. They were all, including Margaret Hitchens and the Mayor, reading memos, or shuffling papers into spots on the table, or whispering to their neighbor behind a hand, carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone besides one another.

  The mystery man that Connell had been sitting next to was turned sideways in his chair, staring at the townspeople with a glimmer of amusement in his eye. The man caught Wolf’s gaze and held it for a second before turning back around.

  Wolf’s mother stood, clenched her fists and stomped on the creaky boards down the ro
w of chairs, pushing aside those who stood in her way. She turned to the back of the room and left fast.

  Wolf stood, put on his buffalo felt Stetson hat and looked at Gary.

  Gary met his gaze, and in mid-sentence with his official speech Gary flicked his head to the back doors, giving Wolf a subtle signal, and then he continued swearing in his son.

  …

  “Oh my God,” Rachette pleaded to the cloudless sky. His hands gripped his head and his mouth was wide in horror. He stopped next to Wolf and pulled his arms down. “This isn’t happening.”

  Wolf leaned silently against the bumper of his Sheriff’s Department issue Ford Explorer and watched a few people come out of the building.

  Nate shook his head. “Something’s going on. Did you hear that? Eight votes to none? For that guy? No. This is BS.”

  “This is unacceptable.” Wolf’s mother was shaking with tears in her eyes. “What are you going to do?”

  Wolf hugged her gently and patted her back.

  She pressed her ear against his stomach. “Your father would be horrified. I don’t understand. After all our family has given to this county over the years…after all we’ve just been through—“

  “Don’t worry, Mom.” He pushed her gently back and wiped her cheek.

  Wolf turned as a mass of footsteps crunched on the gravel lot. A steady stream of citizens of Rocky Points and other far flung regions of Sluice County were pouring out now, most looking toward Wolf with shakes of their heads and shrugs of their shoulders.

  Wolf put his poker face on display and waited.

  Five minutes later Derek Connell came out of the building. His thumbs were hooked on his belt, his pectorals were out, and he moved with a slow heel-toe walk. A new-sheriff strut. He stopped and scanned the parking lot with a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

  Wolf hadn’t seen Derek Connell’s ugly face since a week ago today — not since their altercation on top of the cliff.

  Wolf still hadn’t told a single soul about what had happened that day, but now it was apparent that Connell had been filling the ears of the council with a story of his own. One that Wolf hadn’t been around to defend himself against. By the looks of Connell, he probably didn’t have to work very hard to garner any sympathy.

  Connell’s face was a mess. Both eye sockets were deeply bruised; a mix of blue, purple, yellow, and green puffy flesh. His nose was larger than normal, split on the bridge with a red horizontal slice, and a large bump in the middle that wasn’t there a week ago. His lips looked like they were in the middle of a particularly nasty herpes outbreak, and a line of stitches above his right eyebrow gave the illusion of one brow longer than the other.

  Wolf marveled at the damage, vaguely remembering the repeated elbows he’d given Connell once he’d finally gotten him on the ground. He honestly couldn’t begin to guess how many times he’d hit Connell in the face. Apparently it was more than just a few.

  Connell’s beady blue eyes found Wolf and narrowed. He wiped his nose gingerly and walked over.

  “Mrs. Wolf, so nice to see you. Glad you could make it today.” Connell opened his muscular arms for a hug. “I’m also sorry to hear about your loss. John was a good…”

  She turned her back to him and got into Wolf’s SUV.

  “Huh. Okay.” He held out a hand to Wolf. “Sorry man, better luck next time.”

  Wolf didn’t move.

  “Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” Connell shrugged and thrust his hand to Rachette.

  Rachette looked at the hand, to Wolf, then to Connell’s hand again, then shook it. “Congratulations Derek.” He winced as his skin went white under Connell’s grip.

  Connell shook for a few seconds too many, his eyes boring into Rachette’s. He finally let go and walked towards his own SUV.

  “Aren’t you going to shake my hand there tough guy?” Nate flexed his chest and squared off to Connell’s back.

  Connell kept walking and held up a finger. “Meeting in the sit room at ten. Be there or be sorry.”

  The SUV rocked as he jumped in and slammed the door with a loud thump. The mystery blonde man was in the passenger seat, staring at them with no particular expression.

  The SUV backed up fast, skidding to a halt, then spit rocks at them as it left.

  Rachette shook his hand as the SUV turned onto Main Street with a loud squeal. “Oh, good.” He squinted and coughed on the dust. “This is going to be good.”

  Wolf was already walking back toward the Town Hall.

  “Wolf!” Nate chased him down and walked next to him. “I’m heading up to Laramie for the week.”

  Nate’s tenacity on the football field had never been enough to make up for his lack of size, so he never did play college ball after high school. Instead, he steered his determination toward academics, double majoring in geology and business at Colorado School of Mines. Now he owned Watson Geological Services, a thriving enterprise that employed forty-one geologists in Wyoming, Colorado, and Utah. Wolf knew he’d be going up to Laramie to help with some big oil and gas company, for some substantial amount of money.

  “All right man. Have a good week.”

  “I will.” Nate pulled Wolf to a stop, and then patted him on the shoulder. “I know how much this meant to you. I’m sorry. You going to talk to Gary?”

  Wolf nodded.

  “Give him hell, man. I’ll see you on Saturday. Have a good week.”

  “Hey. I’ll take Brian fishing with me and Jack this week.” Wolf said.

  Nate nodded. Brian was Nate’s twelve-year-old son, the same age as Jack, Wolf’s son. And just like their fathers, they were also best friends.

  “Thanks,” Nate said. “I owe ya.”

  Chapter 2

  Gary stood just inside the door shaking the hand of Margaret Hitchens, and finishing a hushed conversation. She turned to leave, almost running into Wolf.

  She looked up with a start, and then dropped her gaze to his feet.

  “Hi, David.” She stretched her hand out.

  He grasped it and shook.

  Margaret and her family were always close to the Wolf’s growing up, and she personally knew his father growing up. As far as Wolf had been able to deduce, there was a love affair that didn’t last between Margaret and his father. Maybe when they were ten years old. He didn’t know. All he knew is it was before his mother was in the picture.

  Despite Margaret’s obvious longing for Wolf’s dad growing up, she had always been a good friend to the entire family, Wolf’s mother included. Wolf thought her a good person with a sharp wit. She was fun to talk to, and everyone in town considered her the real estate expert.

  “Hi, Margaret.” He nodded and moved to step past her.

  To his surprise, she held on to his hand and squeezed. “Good luck with everything David. The job sounds great.” Then she let go and left the room.

  He paused, and then twisted on his heel, but he didn’t have a chance to ask her what she meant. She was already out the door.

  Gary stood speaking softly, cupping an old man’s hands with both of his own.

  The old man stood with the reverence of a devout Catholic praising a beloved priest after mass. Three people waited in line behind the old man.

  Mayor Wakefield was scooping up his leather bag off a chair and putting it on his shoulder. He noticed Wolf and walked towards him with an exhausted expression.

  “We didn’t see you last night at the station,” Wakefield said.

  Wolf nodded. “I needed to get home and take care of some things.”

  “Well. I hear Vicky Mulroy is denying everything Chris told you.”

  Wolf nodded. The Mayor’s son had shed some light on a suspicious death in town the week before, and implicated a girl in town as the responsible party. She was brought in for questioning the night before as well, and she denied everything. Just like Wolf knew she would.

  “I’m not sure justice will come for what happened. But Chris will be okay. He did the right thin
g in the end.”

  Mayor Wakefield gave Wolf an unreadable look, then nodded. “I hope you enjoy your new job. You’re going to be missed. I hope you know that.”

  Wolf stood straight and frowned at Mayor Wakefield. What the hell was he talking about?

  “New job?” Wolf asked dumbly.

  The Mayor squinted at Wolf and scoffed. Then he searched Wolf’s eyes, as if to see if Wolf was joking. He apparently thought Wolf was, because he laughed and shook his head as he walked out the door.

  Wolf sauntered to the now vacant wood seats in the room and sat down. He folded his hands and waited.

  Five minutes later the doors closed, muffling the outside crackle of tires on gravel.

  The old boarded floor squeaked as Gary walked up behind Wolf.

  He cleared his throat with a sharp push. “How you doing, David?”

  Wolf stood up and walked to the window without saying anything.

  People were still milling about in the parking lot, talking in pairs or small groups. Arms were flailing, pointing to the hall. The facial expressions people wore were anything but tranquil and happy.

  Gary joined him and sighed. “They’ll get over it.” He folded his muscular arms and leaned against the window.

  Wolf gave him a sideways glance. Gary stood looking out with what looked to be a mischievous half smile, like he was hiding something.

  “Eight votes to none?”

  Gary rubbed his face and looked over his shoulder to the closed door. “I convinced everyone on the council to vote for Derek.”

  The floor seemed to drop an inch under Wolf’s feet. He looked at Gary and felt his blood pressure rise.

  It was one thing if the council had voted for Connell to be sheriff on perceived merit, it was an entirely other thing what Gary Connell was saying.

  Gary had just admitted to sabotaging a moment Wolf had been working towards for years. A moment that Gary Connell knew the full weight of.

  Wolf forced himself to look back outside. He could hardly contain the anger.

  Gary read Wolf’s expression and shut his eyes. He held both hands up. “Just, listen. I know you wanted to be sheriff. But I convinced everyone because…I’ve got something much better for you, David. Please, don’t fret about it.” Gary glared at Wolf and put a gentle hand on his arm. “Just keep your cool and come over tonight to my place for dinner. Have I ever let you down in the past? Huh?”