by Jeff Carson
So what was he thinking about with this election? What was his plan? At the moment it seemed he was ignoring the inevitable outcome. He’d been appointed to the job of sheriff of Sluice County last time. Elections were something he was clearly not comfortable with. Or good at.
And now Rachette and Patterson were being put in a tough situation. They were loyal to Wolf, that was never in doubt, but were they supposed to ignore MacLean? Were they supposed to be standoffish?
“Patterson.” Rachette slapped her shoulder.
“Jesus. What?”
“What’s going on with you? I said they’re back up.”
Patterson turned back to Wolf’s boat and saw that the divers had surfaced.
Rachette leaned a hand on the side of the boat. “Holy crap.”
Each of the four divers carried at least one black plastic bag. Two of them had two bags, one in each hand.
Wolf pulled one dripping bag over the side of his boat, and Patterson could see that it was similar in shape and size to the head at the marina, but these bags had another something inside—a rectangular sag that streamed water as they were lifted. The stony clank on the boat’s hull told her they were bricks. Probably stuffed inside to keep them submerged.
The late spring sun suddenly felt hotter and she rolled up her sleeves.
“Six.” Rachette said. “Six more.” He stood up and looked at the inky water. “Dang, there could be a lot more than that down there.”
A whining engine came around the corner of the island and cut down to an idle, then continued crawling into the cluster of boats. It was the Sluice County Chief Medical Examiner, Dr. Lorber. At six foot seven, his pole-thin frame was easy enough to spot, swaying with the wake like a pine in the wind, sticking up head and shoulders above the others in the boat next to him. His ever-present assistant, Dr. Joe Blank, was with him, looking cold as he rubbed his hands.
There was a sharp whistle and the boat turned toward Wolf and the emerged divers.
Lorber’s boat slid by, the Mercury outboard engine gurgling as the water frothed behind it, and Patterson held up a hand to him. Lorber pointed a long finger and nodded.
“Nice ’stache,” Rachette murmured.
Lorber had shaved his usual five-day beard into a bushy caterpillar mustache, but that’s where the grooming stopped. His uncombed hippy-hair was as long as ever, flapping against the center of his back in the breeze.
“Is that jealousy?”
“Psh. I could grow a ’stache like that in a week.”
“You’d be happy if you grew a map of the Galapagos Islands on your face after a week.”
Rachette glared at her, but had no comeback.
Chapter 5
Wolf got up from the bench seat of the ASIS inflatable as it slid alongside the SCSD fleet boat. He steadied himself as the pilot gave a quick burst in reverse and held out a hand to Patterson. Climbing aboard, the boat rocked under his weight.
“What’s the news?” Rachette asked.
“The news is, we’ve got at least eight bodies down there. They just pulled up six heads. Add that to Chevalier’s catch this morning and we’ve got seven. Then there’s an extra bag down there. No head accounted for with that one. It could be a full body inside.
“Everything’s wrapped in plastic. Same as the heads, they’re weighted with bricks inside.” He pointed down and made a circle with his arm. “Apparently they’re spread out, covering at least a hundred feet diameter area.”
“So there could be a lot more down there?” Patterson asked. “Visibility can’t be that good down there.”
“We’ll find out. They’re doing more sweeps with the sonar. It’s going to take a while.”
“Good Lord.” Rachette gazed at the western shoreline. “There’s some sick bastard living over there.”
“Not necessarily,” Patterson said. “Said sick bastard could have come from anywhere. All we know is, this is his preferred spot for body dumping.”
“Then someone over there must have seen something,” Rachette said.
A sharp whistle pierced the air.
“Hey!” Lorber waved a long arm above his head. “You’ve gotta see this!”
Wolf turned the key and started the engine, then flipped the button for up-anchor. The winch at the front of the boat whined and the thin, wet cable spooled in.
Lorber stood impatiently for a moment then barked an order to his pilot. Their engine bubbled to life and they sped over, easing up beside.
“Look at this,” Lorber said.
Wolf snuck in next to Patterson and Rachette and peeked overboard.
Lorber bent over a bag with a slit in it, revealing a face on another head.
Wolf stared into the past. “Nick Pollard.”
Lorber nodded. “Yep. I’d bet my hair on it.”
“Who’s Nick Pollard?” Rachette asked.
“An old missing-persons case.” Wolf’s gaze locked on the waxy face.
The sight sparked recognition in Wolf’s mind, and he was more certain than ever they were correct. The facial hair pattern poking out at them was unique—impressive growth for a seventeen-year-old kid—and it was a visage that the residents of Rocky Points at one time knew well.
“How old of a case?” Rachette asked.
“Twenty-two years.” Wolf said.
“He looks more recent than that, doesn’t it?” Rachette frowned. “Are you sure?”
Patterson cleared her throat. “The cold water at that depth would have slowed autolysis, or when the body’s enzymes within the cells go into post-death meltdown.”
Lorber tilted his head side to side, as if to say, at least partly right.
Patterson continued. “The almost perfect preservation of the face is due to the formation of adipocere, otherwise known as saponification, which is the formation of a waxy substance that ends up coating the skin. It’s formed by the anaerobic bacterial hydrolysis of fat in tissue. Cold, wet environments are perfect for production.”
“I love Science Fridays,” Rachette said.
“Spot on, Patterson.” Lorber looked at Wolf. “I’ll check dental records. Probably went to Dr. Unruh in town back then. Shouldn’t take more than tomorrow morning, probably this afternoon.”
Wolf nodded. “Make it as quick as possible. There were reporters at the marina. But I’m not going to jump the gun and tell the Pollards just yet. The facial hair is right and it looks like Nick Pollard, but I wouldn’t bet my hair on it. I’ll wait for you.”
Lorber nodded.
“So, who was this guy?” Rachette asked.
“A case my father never solved.”
Chapter 6
Wolf was the most exhilarated he’d been in years as he sat across the table from Sarah. Candlelight danced on her face and made it look like she had a spark in each eye, or maybe it was that she shared the same feeling.
“Excuse the interruption,” the waiter said in a low voice as he placed a basket of bread in front of them.
Wolf leaned back, making way for the food. He felt like he’d come up for air after being submerged in water, like the divers today after sitting at thirty feet for decompression, only he’d been submerged in something much better with Sarah. He realized that from the moment he’d picked her up from her house and smelled her perfume as she’d climbed in his truck, he’d been buried in the present. Time was passing one elevated heartbeat at a time.
He gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows of Antler Creek Lodge, marveling at the pink painted western sky gouged by peaks. The late spring snow that clung in spots outside were like blankets of orange sorbet in the fading light of the sunset.
The fragrance of fresh bread pulled his gaze from the windows to the table.
“Thank you.” Wolf nodded to the server as he left.
Sarah tore a slice of bread in half and bit into it. “So, are you ready to talk about today yet?”
Wolf tore his own piece and chewed the soft, warmed goodness. “I’d rather not ruin our fir
st date in years.”
She sipped the wine, keeping her eyes on his. “Just tell me. After that exit this morning? And I can see that it’s on your mind. What happened?”
Wolf took a sip of water and leaned forward. “We found some dead bodies today.”
“Oh my God. At the lake?”
“In the lake.”
“Some bodies? Plural?” Sarah’s eyes bore into his. Her breathing was clearly escalating.
Wolf checked the neighboring table to his right. The couple were smiling at one another, distracted in conversation.
He simply nodded, not wanting to go into details.
“Jesus,” she whispered. “Like, a serial killer?”
Wolf nodded.
Her eyes glazed over and she sat rigid.
He regretted telling her now. The spark in her eyes had been doused by fear.
“Where on the lake?” she asked.
He reached over and squeezed her hand.
She flinched and then relaxed. “Sorry. My God, though. That’s so crazy. A killer right here? I can’t think of any missing people. Are they Rocky Points citizens? Have you identified anyone?”
He squeezed her hand again and flicked a glance to the neighboring couple. They had gone silent, reaching for their drinks. Both startled by Sarah’s last words, clearly wondering if they’d heard correctly.
Wolf and Sarah sipped their wine, waiting for the couple to resume their discussion.
When they did, Wolf spoke just above a whisper. “We identified one of them. Do you remember Nick Pollard?”
“Yeah, of course. You found him?”
Wolf shrugged. “Looks like it. We’ll be sure tomorrow.”
“My God. All this time, and he was in the water?”
Wolf narrowed his eyes. “What do you remember about it?”
“I remember he went missing on the Fourth of July. They were all saying he went up to the lake and never came back. He went up to see ... ah, I forgot her name. But some weird girl, used to be homeschooled? Remember? Lived on the western shore? Everyone was saying that her dad killed him.”
Wolf pulled his eyebrows together. “How do you remember all this while I didn’t recall any of it?”
Sarah smiled. “I don’t know, Sheriff Wolf. How didn’t you? Oh wait, because you were doing two-a-days in Fort Collins, trying to impress the CSU cheerleaders with your tight spirals the summer after our senior year.”
Wolf smiled. “Ah. Right. I had already impressed the right cheerleader by then.”
Sarah smiled sheepishly and looked down.
The past, damn it. Wolf had learned recently that talking about their past with Sarah was a sure-fire way to ruin the moment, and he’d just done it again.
“Anyway,” Wolf said. “I’d rather not talk about it anymore. It was a tough day, and I’m excited to be here with you.”
She looked up with a resigned smile. “Okay. But you have to keep me posted.” Her eyes turned mischievous. “Seriously, though.” She let go of his hands and leaned forward on her elbows, creating a gap between her breasts that Wolf wanted to dive into. “I thought that fifth toss of yours today was going to rope that calf. The way it barely hit him in the ass and then hit the dirt?”
Wolf blinked. “I will murder you.”
She laughed that deep, throaty laugh of hers he loved, and then took a sip of her white wine.
He smiled wider than he ever liked to in public, and then brought his own glass up to his lips and tasted the exquisite Argentinian white. It was sweet, and as he swallowed it warmed his entire body. It had been a long, mentally taxing day, and he could not think of a better way to wash the dirt off his thoughts than with a swig of wine and the most beautiful companion Wolf had ever known.
They locked eyes and stared at one another, and Wolf knew that his ex-wife shared the same sentiments. They both knew something special was happening between them. For the first time since their divorce, since years before that actually, they felt the spark between them again. And for the first time, they were moving on from the past without looking back. It was more than a spark, Wolf thought—it was a warming fire that was ignited by the friction of their souls. Or something. Wolf checked himself and took another sip of wine.
“How’s the new place?” Wolf asked.
She nodded. “Good. Great. Jack seems to like it. I think he likes being away from my parents for the first time in years. And, of course, I’m not there all day.” Sarah took a distracted sip of wine.
Wolf squeezed her hand. “He’s doing all right.”
She closed her eyes and nodded. “It’s just, he’s getting so angry sometimes. And do you know what he told me when I said you and I were going out tonight? So?” She frowned and shook her head. “So? What kind of response is that to us finally going out on a date—something he’s been hounding me about for years?”
Wolf shrugged. “Teenagers.”
She bit a fingernail. “Do you think he’s doing pot?”
“No.” He squeezed her hand again. “Hey, let’s just enjoy this dinner. Jack’s doing fine. I’ll see what’s bothering him this weekend. He probably just doesn’t …” Wolf let his sentence die. He was going to say, He probably just doesn’t want to get his hopes up too much, but that mirrored Wolf’s own thoughts too closely to voice out loud.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Wolf said with a smile. “Dinner. I could eat that horse I was riding today.”
He felt the touch of her bare foot rubbing the inside of his knee, which sent a tingling wave through his body.
“Salmon for the lady,” a voice said as the waiter materialized from thin air. He pushed the steaming plate in front of her.
She leaned back with a reddening face, as if she’d been caught in the act by the waiter, and clasped her hands. “Thank you.”
“And the filet.”
Wolf watched a three-inch-high cylinder of meat slide in front of him, and the steamy aroma of steak, garlic mashed potatoes and asparagus made his mouth flood.
“Thank you,” he said.
He paused when he looked up and saw a flicker of horror in Sarah’s eyes as she looked past Wolf. He followed her gaze and saw an elegantly dressed man waving at her from the bar at the front of the restaurant.
She waved back, pasting an unconvincing annoyed look on her face.
“Who’s that?” Wolf asked.
“A client.” There was no hesitation in her voice. “Geez, that looks good.” She gawked at Wolf’s plate.
Wolf cut a sliver of meat and held it out to her.
Ignoring the piece of filet mignon bobbing in front of her face, she looked into the distance once again. There was a small widening of her eyes. She put her knife and fork down and looked at her lap. Smoothed her napkin.
Wolf took the bite and studied her, knowing the man was now on his way over. He cut and forked another piece, and then put it in his mouth.
“Sarah.” The man stepped next to their table with an upturned palm thrust at her.
She looked up and feigned surprise and then placed her hand into his. His large hand enveloped hers and he began pulling her up.
“Come on, I need a hug. It’s been so long.”
“Oh … okay.” Sarah stood up and raised her arms awkwardly while the man dove in for the embrace.
Wolf leaned back and put an elbow on the table, observing.
The man had mid-length wavy dark hair that was impeccably combed, and he wore a dark suit and an expensive white shirt over a muscled physique. The top button of his shirt was open, revealing a gold necklace around a thick, tanned neck. His watch was a platinum Rolex with a black face and there were no rings on his fingers. A good-looking guy by no stretch of the imagination, Wolf thought, and clearly the man had a big wallet.
The man’s giant arms enveloped Sarah’s slender body, his big hands splaying flat on the bare skin that was exposed by the slinkily cut dress.
The hug was a second too long, awkward for
Sarah, who began pulling away.
As they separated, the man brushed the fabric the whole way from her ribs over her hips, past her panty line, which was not there, and then finally drew his meat hooks to his side.
Wolf stood and slapped the man’s back, hard enough for a hollow thump to echo through the dining room, silencing the nearby tables.
“Hey, there. I’m Dave.”
The man whipped his head around with wide eyes, like he was suddenly in a fight.
Movement and gasps of astonishment came from behind Wolf, and when he looked down he saw that his chair had careened into a woman’s back.
“Oh, I’m sorry ma’am.”
The woman looked up at him with exasperation and turned back around to face her husband, who was now glaring up at Wolf.
Wolf slid his gaze back to their visitor. “And you are?”
One side of the man’s chiseled mouth rose and his eyes softened. “The name’s Carter. Carter Willis.” He extended a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Sarah sank down into her chair and took a sip of her water.
Wolf came into the handshake with knuckle-crunching force, but found the man’s huge grip too hard to dent. The shake lasted the same awkward amount of time as the hug had, and then they let go.
“Well, see ya around, Carter,” Wolf said.
Carter looked down at Sarah and blew air from his lips. “See you around. Nice to meet you, Sheriff.”
Wolf watched the man stroll away and sat down.
Sarah was board-stiff, her face drained of color.
Adrenaline coursed through Wolf’s veins, rendering the meal in front of him unappealing, but he dug in anyway.
The rest of the meal was eaten in complete silence. The couple next to them were even sucked into the abyss of awkwardness, eating without speaking, keeping a wary eye on Wolf and Sarah, then refusing the dessert menu and leaving as fast as possible—a cadence Wolf and Sarah followed closely for their own dinner.
After settling the check, they walked out of the restaurant and into the cold thin air on top of the mountain.