David Wolf series Box Set 2

by Jeff Carson

  Patterson tried to cloak herself in professional detachment, and to ignore the coppery scent of blood and death. She studied the scene from various perspectives: the gunshot wound on Carter Willis’s head, the scuffmarks on his shoes, the lack of shoes on Sarah’s muddy feet, and her nightgown outfit.

  “Where are the keys?” she asked.

  “Center console.” Deputy Tyler cleared his throat. “Cup holder. It’s a push-button start motor.”

  She looked down to the concrete driveway. “No brass?”

  “Nope.”

  She reached back and Tyler handed her some gloves. She put them on and pulled open Carter Willis’s jacket, exposing the empty inner pocket.

  “I already checked his pants. No wallet. No ID. Insurance card and registration in the glove compartment say Carter Willis. We’re confirming his ID.”

  She nodded. “I met this guy. He introduced himself by that name.” She noted the powder smears throughout the interior of the car where prints had been found and lifted.

  “We’ve got at least four separate sets of prints so far,” said Tyler.

  Rachette walked away shaking his head. His face was pale and his lips shiny with saliva.

  She listened to his footsteps quicken as he ran, and then his retching. The soundtrack of Rachette heaving drew no glances from anyone.

  “Did you call Lorber?” she asked.

  Tyler nodded. “He’s on his way.”

  She looked around the interior of the car and at the scuffs on Carter’s shoes. “Looks like they were shot outside the car and put inside.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” Tyler said. “There’s no spatter inside. We’ll scour the area with the K-9s.”

  She stood straight and walked up the hill to the top of the driveway.

  Her eyes welled up again when she saw Wolf holding Jack in a bear hug and rocking back and forth, his son trying to escape to no avail. Then she flinched for the second time that morning when a distant wail reached her eardrums.

  Chapter 49

  Rachette stared at his computer monitor, listening to the patter of rain on the squad-room windows. Despite the late afternoon hour, it was almost dark as evening outside and he needed to turn on his desk lamp, but he had too little willpower to reach up and twist the switch.

  He felt a tinge of regret that he wasn’t out scouring the scene of Sarah’s murder for clues with Patterson. He felt like he’d betrayed Wolf once by getting caught unknowingly running drugs … running drugs for Christ’s sake! And now, instead of trying to crack Sarah’s case, he was staring at the seizure-inducing glow of his computer screen, trying to find a damn match for at least one of these bodies pulled up from the depths, something he was also failing at.

  “Rachette.” Tammy was leaning out her door.

  He looked up.

  “There’s a Kimber Grey here. Says she wants to talk to you.”

  He sat straight, his curiosity piqued. “Okay.” He walked to the reception door and opened it.

  Kimber Grey sat on the edge of a chair, her thick brown hair bundled at the back of her head, eyes big and wide and looking up at him.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi.” She stood up and pulled down her sweatshirt. “Can I talk to you?”

  “Sure. Come on inside.”

  She smiled gratefully and walked past him into the squad room.

  Rachette took a deep inhale of her flowery scent as she passed and couldn’t help stealing a glance at her butt.

  “I’ve been sitting at the hotel all day, and I just wanted to see how things were progressing.”

  He nodded and motioned for her to sit in front of his desk.

  Patterson’s desk phone began to trill.

  “With things up at the lake?”

  She nodded and sat down. She crossed her legs and pulled a piece of escaped hair behind her ear.

  He sat down behind his desk. “Yeah. Well, we had a little incident in town, and haven’t gotten up there today. The rescue divers have been up there, though, trying to fish a … trying to exhume something they found yesterday.”

  “Really?” She narrowed her eyes. “Another body?”

  “Well, I don’t want to speculate. It’s not in the same spot we found the other bodies. Uh, and your father.”

  “Ah.” She nodded and looked down at her hands.

  Her eyelashes were so long, her lips so smooth. Even after so much time, over two years now, he recalled the way she kissed. So hungry and passionate, and then so quick to switch it off. He remembered it like it was yesterday. It was a typical shoot-down of the variety he’d endured many times before—one second he’d been making out with them, the next they’d come to their senses. But her shoot-down had stung badly, and he still remembered exactly how he’d screwed up the moment. They’d gotten into his car in full steamy mode, and he’d had his uniform in the back seat. He’d pointed at it and told her, See that? I’m a man in uniform. You like men in uniform?

  Apparently she didn’t. Because that had been the end of their kiss, and the end of any sort of meaningful communication they’d had with one another until the present moment.

  He stood up. “You want any coffee?”

  “Sure. Hey, have they found anything interesting in Mr. Heeter’s house?”

  He walked out from behind his desk. “No, I mean I can’t really talk about it.” He paused at the coffee machine and frowned. “So when is the last time you saw him?”

  “Geez, I don’t know. It’s been a couple of weeks, I guess. He usually spends most of his weekends up there during the summer, but I didn’t see him this last weekend, or the one before that, I guess.”

  “You want cream and sugar?”

  “No thanks. Black.”

  He walked over and set it down in front of her.

  Patterson’s desk phone rang again.

  He jerked his head. “Just a second. Someone keeps calling her damn phone. Hello?”

  There was shuffling on the other end and then a man clearing his throat. “Hello. I was looking for Deputy Patterson.”

  “Yeah. Are you the one that keeps calling?”

  “I called just before this, but I didn’t leave a message. Then I contacted your dispatcher and got your fax number. I was just ringing back now to let her know that I was going to send over some files of interest we have.”

  “I’m sorry, who is this?”

  “This is Deputy Michelson, Boise Sheriff’s Department.”

  “Boise?”

  “Idaho.”

  “Yeah, I know where Boise, Idaho is. I’m just wondering why you’re calling.”

  “I’m calling because Deputy Patterson called last night about a VIN number. And we got to talking about the bodies you’ve been pulling up from that lake down there.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I just got off the phone with a retiree from our department, a guy who lives up-state. He called, talking about an unsolved case we have from twenty-four years ago. This retiree worked the case back all those years. Anyway, he saw the news stories they’re plastering all over the TV about those headless bodies you’re pulling up down there, and he swears there’s a connection to his case way back when. Looks like they had a body that showed up, killed with the same MO.”

  Rachette leaned on the edge of the desk. “In Idaho?”

  “That’s what he’s saying.”

  “Same MO? You’re sure?”

  Deputy Michelson cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’m looking at the pictures. I don’t envy you guys with eight of these bodies.”

  “Seven. One of them was killed with a shot …” Rachette looked over at Kimber and stopped talking. It looked like she had been staring at him with wide eyes, and now she turned away.

  Shit. He was being an insensitive bastard talking about her father like this right in front of her.

  He stood from the edge of the desk and turned away. “Anyway … sounds like we need to hear about this.”

  “That’s what I
figured. Like I was going to tell Deputy Patterson, I’m sending it over, so keep an eye out for it.”

  Rachette looked absently at Kimber and nodded. “Sounds good. We’ll look forward to it. Thanks.” The line clicked and he hung up.

  “Hey, Wilson. We’ve got an important fax coming in from the Boise Sheriff’s Department.”

  “Idaho?”

  Rachette held out his hands. “No, California. Yes, Idaho.”

  “What do you want me to do about it?”

  Rachette exhaled. “Just make sure it comes through.”

  Wilson shook his head and kept his eyes on his computer screen. “Yeah, sure.”

  Rachette felt his face blossom red.

  “Deputy Rachette?” Kimber looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes.

  She was gorgeous.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you do me a favor?” She smiled sheepishly.

  “Sure. What?”

  “The reason I came in here … to talk to you … is because I have to go up to my house, and I heard from Sheriff Wolf that you guys have seen someone up there.”

  Rachette sat down. “Nobody’s seen anyone. But someone is definitely up there.”

  Her eyebrows creased together and she looked at her hands. “I have to go up there. I have to get some things, but I don’t want to go alone. Do you think you could go up with me?”

  “Now?”

  “I have to go. I left my laptop computer up there and it’s driving me crazy.”

  He shook his head. “If you need to, you can use one of our computers in here.”

  She sagged in her chair. “I also don’t have enough money on me to stay another night in the Edelweiss. I don’t use credit cards, so I have to go get more cash. Listen, I’ll buy you a drink on the way back.”

  Without even trying, he gave her an awe-shucks smile that lit up her face. “If you need money, I can spot you, Kimber.”

  Her face dropped and she scooted her chair back. “No, thank you. I’ll just drive up by myself. I’m sorry for bothering you.” She stood up.

  “All right. All right.” He raised a hand and stood up. “Geez, I’ll go with you. Don’t worry.”

  She smiled and tilted her head, her eyes softening with unending gratitude that made him blush.

  “But I’m driving,” he said. “I don’t want to be listening to Madonna all the way up there in that Blazer of yours.” He picked up his jacket and put it on.

  She rolled her eyes. “Thank you. I feel so much better.”

  He smiled and hooked his thumbs on his duty belt. “No problem. Hey, Wilson, I’m heading up to the lake for a little bit. I’ll be back.”

  Wilson eyed them for a second and then nodded. “All right. I’ll be sitting in this dark room sifting through databases.”

  Rachette pursed his lips and thought about Wolf. Where was he? Patterson had said after he’d talked to Jack, Wolf had driven away without a glance or word to anyone.

  He felt sick thinking about the grief the two Wolf boys must have been feeling right now.

  “Could be worse,” he said.

  Wilson looked up and nodded with closed eyes. “Yeah. Could be worse.”

  Chapter 50

  Patterson walked into the squad room and took off her jacket, being careful not to flip water all over the papers on her desk.

  Easing around to her seat, she looked out the rain-splotched window and read Debate Cancelled Tonight in black capital letters on the town-hall sign across the street.

  “You see all those reporters outside?” she asked Wilson.

  “Mmmhmm.”

  She slung her jacket on the chair and sat down, feeling an ache in her shoulders as she reached for the mouse to wake up her computer. The screen for the National Missing Persons Database materialized on screen.

  “Any luck?”

  Wilson gave her a sour look. “What do you think?”

  She opened another internet browser tab and checked her email.

  “So what have we got up there?” Wilson’s tone softened.

  She leaned back and rubbed her eyes, trying to vaporize an image of Sarah’s exposed dead body from the back of her eyelids.

  “Nothing yet. None of the neighbors saw anything. The two people who heard the gunshots were over a mile away, on the other side of thick forest, over on Bear Hill Road. They didn’t see anything. No brass at the scene. Fingerprints are Carter Willis’s, Sarah’s and another two sets that aren’t matching in IAFIS.”

  Patterson and Wilson turned to the sound of the reception door slamming closed. Wolf was already halfway through the squad room, head leaning forward as he marched.

  She swallowed. “Sir.”

  Wolf ground to a halt at her desk and dropped a plastic bag that knocked against the wood.

  Looking down, she saw it was a brushed nickel doorknob. With raised eyebrows, she looked up.

  “Where’s the Pollard case packet?” he asked.

  She snatched it off her desk and held it up.

  Without a word, he pulled it from her fingers and flipped to a page. “I want you to check the prints on this doorknob against these. And then”—he flipped to another page—“these.”

  She took the packet back and pulled her eyebrows together. “You want—”

  “Wilson, help her.” And with that, Wolf left the room.

  “Yes, sir,” Patterson said to no one. She looked up at Wilson and they exchanged puzzled looks.

  “Now!” Wolf’s voice boomed from around the corner.

  She jumped in her seat and stood.

  “What the hell is going on?” Wilson stood up.

  “Follow me.” She grabbed the plastic bag and case file and marched out of the squad room, down the hallway past Wolf’s office and into the tiny box of a room they called a lab.

  Wilson was breathing excitedly on her heels. “What’s going on?” he whispered when they got inside.

  “We have to check for a print match on this doorknob to these or these.” She got busy.

  “But … the first prints are Kimber Grey’s.”

  “Yep.” Patterson flicked on an overhead lamp and bent it down.

  “And these are the prints on the payphone.”

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Me neither. Now stop wasting time and hand me that brush.”

  Ten minutes later, Patterson stood over the white sheet of paper and pasted the clear tape on top. An array of charcoal-colored prints crowded the small area like a cloud of swirling smoke.

  With a magnifying lens, she bent over and studied the patterns, looking for specific indicators. There were dozens of fingerprints, smudges on top of smudges, and most were warped because of the shape of the knob.

  Her lower back ached from bending over. The humming light was hot and making her palms sweat even more than usual under her gloves. Wilson’s nose-breathing and shuffling feet weren’t helping the overall atmosphere inside the tiny room, especially knowing Wolf was outside waiting with what looked to be a biblical temper flare up happening.

  Then she came up with a result. And it confused the hell out of her.

  Wilson stood straight, studying her expression. “What’s the matter?”

  She picked up the print-covered card and held it next to Kimber Grey’s print sheet. “The fingerprints on this doorknob do not match Kimber Grey’s.”

  “Okay. So, what’s the matter?”

  She picked up the print sheet from the bloody handset of the payphone at Pumapetrol Gas. “The fingerprints on this doorknob match these on the payphone from twenty-two years ago.”

  Chapter 51

  “MacLean,” the voice barked in Wolf’s ear.

  “I need to know what bullets were used in the Idaho vehicle fire.”

  “Sheriff Wolf? Hey, listen. I was so sorry to hear about your ex-wife. My God, I can only—”

  “I need to know.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just a second.” The phone line clicked and there was
silence.

  Breathing out his mouth, Wolf sat listening to the pulse pounding in his ears. A trickle of clotted blood slid down his throat and he made a face as he swallowed.

  “You there?”

  “Yes.”

  “.308 FMJ.”

  Wolf hung up and rubbed the sandpaper stubble on his chin. Sarah and Carter had been murdered with a nine-millimeter hollow point. A pistol.

  Up at Olin Heeter’s, there’d been a box of .308 Winchester full metal jackets, half empty, sitting on the bookcase next to a rifle. It was looking like that rifle had killed those two burned men.

  With growing impatience, Wolf stood and walked to the hallway and saw the lab door was still closed.

  For ten minutes, he’d been waiting on Patterson and Wilson, and on Jake Wegener, his friend from his football days who worked for the Carbon County Sheriff’s Department. Wegener had promised to send over all he had on Aspen’s Carter Willis, but the fax machine at the end of the hall sat dormant.

  The lab door flew open and Patterson came rushing out. “Sir, the prints on the doorknob you gave us match the ones on the payphone receiver.”

  Wolf snapped the sheet out of her hands and walked into his office.

  “Where did you get that doorknob?” Patterson was on his heels.

  “My house,” Wolf said, laying the sheet on his desk.

  Patterson shook her head. “What do you mean, your house?”

  Wolf nodded. “Kimber Grey was over at my house last night.”

  “Sir.” Patterson spoke slowly. “I talked to Lorber today and he said the watch they found in Nick Pollard’s truck proved Kimber Grey was telling the truth about being at the fireworks show when that payphone call was made.”

  Wolf nodded.

  “And I just confirmed those are not her prints.”

  The fax machine hummed and Wolf walked past them out into the hall. “I’ve been thinking about those doorknobs at Olin Heeter’s place for a while now. It was so out of place that everything was scrubbed clean, except for those knobs. It was like someone was trying to lure us in there.” Wolf paused at the fax machine. “In fact, that’s exactly what it was.”