David Wolf series Box Set 2

by Jeff Carson

  Her breathing escalated. She turned around and looked toward Lancaster, who was mouthing something and ending his own phone call.

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  “Bother me when you have a reason.” The phone clicked.

  Pocketing her phone, she took some deep breaths and walked to meet Lancaster halfway. MacLean had a point. She had been hasty, thinking Jack was missing after a few minutes of passionate pursuit. They needed to be one hundred percent sure before they left these grounds.

  Lancaster approached with his phone held up. “I just told MacLean about this. He wants us to check around town to find him. I told him you know better than I do where he could be.” Lancaster motioned to the SUV. “Let’s go. You navigate.”

  Patterson stopped, almost stumbling. She opened her mouth and closed it. She might have made a noise but it was unintelligible beneath the pounding pulse in her ears.

  “You all right?” Lancaster asked.

  She swallowed. “Yeah.”

  Lancaster narrowed his eyes. “Were you going back inside?”

  She froze, her thoughts unable to keep up with the momentum of the situation.

  “What’s going on?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I was just thinking that maybe we missed him somewhere. I’m just freaking out. We have to find him.”

  “You think he’s still in there?” he asked, looking back at the outpouring of students.

  “No,” she said.

  “Then let’s go.” Lancaster marched to the parking lot.

  Heart hammering in her chest, the pores on her body leaking sweat, she steeled herself like she was about to karate chop through a stack of pine boards. Then she followed the man.

  Chapter 24

  Wolf sat perfectly still, concentrating on deep inhalations and exhalations to counter his anxiety.

  “The guy’s still locked in the storage unit. No phone. Out cold,” Luke said.

  He ignored her. She was trying to make him feel better, but until he got a return call, there was no taming the dread.

  “Wolf, we have to move. Every second we waste in this parking lot means the FBI and cops are closer on our tails.”

  He picked up the phone and pushed the button again. Nothing had changed: the phone was still on. The battery was still charged. There was still cell coverage. Still no call.

  “Okay. Never mind. We’ll wait.” Luke sat frozen in the driver’s seat, her eyes wide and gentle. Impatient and yet with all the patience in the world.

  When Luke and Wolf had dated for that brief period, Jack would stutter and trip on his words in her presence. She was that kind of beautiful to his son. And when she’d spoken, Jack would give her all his attention, as if terrified he might miss a word coming out of her lips. He used to over-laugh at her jokes, unconsciously follow her from room to room.

  Wolf smiled briefly at the memory, then thought of Jack’s smile. His forest-green eyes. The pain on his face the last time they’d spoken by the river.

  He lifted the phone again.

  At the same instant, it vibrated and rang. He pressed the button and brought the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”

  “Got him. I’ll take care of everything. Just get here safe and keep me posted.”

  Wolf hung up and leaned back. The tension flowed down his legs and out his feet, leaving his body weak.

  “Are we good?” Luke asked.

  He nodded. “He’s safe. Let’s go.”

  The truck fired up and she reversed with squealing tires.

  She pulled forward and immediately slammed the brakes. “Crap.”

  He saw why she’d stopped. Outside the parking lot there was a line of traffic dribbling forward on the northbound lanes of the highway. Four police cruisers with flashing lights were checking vehicles as they passed at a snail’s crawl.

  As if on cue, a black helicopter sped by overhead, going south.

  She let off the brake and crept forward. “We’re screwed.”

  He pointed. “Go out the north exit of the parking lot to the other strip mall across the street.”

  “Yes.” Luke accelerated, narrowly missing an old man stepping out of the grocery store.

  “Without killing anyone.”

  “No promises.” Her face was pressed against the windshield. “Idiots, they left a bypass route wide open. We’re going to make it.”

  And they did. In a matter of minutes, they’d passed the roadblock and were on their way north on the highway.

  A half-mile later they took a right on the county road they’d come in on earlier that morning, and ten minutes after that, the truck hummed over gravel.

  Luke shoved another chicken drumstick in his face and he waved it away. “I’m all right.”

  “You have to have more food. I’m not going to carry you around for the rest of the day.”

  He grabbed the cold piece of chicken and forced down the meat.

  He didn’t say that exhaustion had almost overtaken him after the wait for Burton’s phone call. Almost. The ringing in his ear had started, but it had stopped before gaining any traction. Perhaps it was because he’d been sitting, or maybe some form of resistance to his condition was building, spurred by the danger to Jack.

  “That was the best chicken I’ve ever had in my entire life, bar none, hands down. The best.”

  He eyed Luke. “That bad, huh?”

  “What’s the plan here?”

  Wolf threw the bone out the window and wiped his hands on a napkin. “We go talk to MacLean.”

  Luke spat Coke out her mouth and coughed. “MacLean?”

  “Yep.”

  “You want to, what? Saunter back into Rocky Points and walk into the station?”

  “No, I want to go to his house.”

  She set down the plastic bottle in the center console. “And that’s safe? That drop off the cliff really did knock you on the head.”

  Wolf grabbed his Coke and took a sip. “I’ve made sure Jack’s safe. The next thing we need is for you to be safe. The only way that can happen is by proving I was framed for this whole thing. And as far as I see it, everything points to MacLean. He brought those photos of Gail Olson to me and tried to blackmail me to drop out of the race. Gail Olson admitted that the whole thing was a set-up and that MacLean was behind it.

  “You said Carter Willis, or Agent Smith, brought those photos to your boss to get the go-ahead to watch me and my department. So that means MacLean brought those photos to Agent Smith. They were somehow partners in all this. And since it’s looking like Smith and Tedescu were involved with some really bad guys and we can’t talk to them, we need to talk to MacLean.” Wolf squeezed the plastic bottle. “I’ll beat the truth out of him if I need to.”

  “Yeeaah. Beat it out of him? We need to be a little less heavy-handed and a little more careful about things when we get into town. The Bureau’s going to be everywhere. They’re probably going to have surveillance on MacLean’s house. Are you sure there’s not another angle of attack when we get there?”

  “Yeah, but if you’re right about how they found us, our angle of attack is probably sitting in jail, or in FBI custody.”

  “Who? Margaret?”

  He nodded. “Margaret was Sarah’s employing broker at Hitching Post. She has access to all of Sarah’s records—every transaction she’s ever made since she hung her license there three years ago.”

  “You think this has to do with Sarah?”

  “She was shot dead in the same car with Agent Smith, wasn’t she? In the last few weeks I’ve looked at her history, but found nothing. I’d like to take a second look.”

  They rode in silence for a beat.

  “I don’t think she was involved with this Carter Willis–Agent Smith guy. You know, sexually. I saw it in her eyes the first time I met the guy. She was scared of him for some reason. I think he was using her for something, and she got caught up in all of this without meaning to, and then paid the price for it.”

  Luke kept sile
nt.

  In his mind, Wolf repeated the words he’d just said, feeling less sure about them the second time around.

  He activated the white-skinned, tattooed man’s cell phone and scrolled through the contacts again.

  “Still don’t recognize any numbers in there?”

  He shook his head. “They’re mostly Colorado numbers. A few 303s and 720s, but mostly 970 area codes.”

  “So, either the mountains or the northern third of the state,” Luke said.

  “But there’re no names in here. He uses numbers to signify each phone number. And there are fifty-one of them. He must have some sort of cipher, a list of the corresponding names to the signifying numbers to know who’s calling him. Looks like he was prepared for this scenario—a cop getting hold of his cell phone.”

  “And WCB Holdings,” Luke said, referring to the commercial insurance and registration cards they’d found in the glove compartment.

  “We need to look into that, too.”

  Luke shook her head. “If only we had the resources of the Bureau. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  Wolf leaned back and sighed.

  Luke eyed him, her demeanor much improved after the solid meal.

  “I noticed you said you were going to, quote, beat it out of him when you saw MacLean. From what I’ve seen so far, you couldn’t best a second-grade schoolboy at arm wrestling.”

  He smiled. “With the hormones they’re feeding these kids nowadays? Probably not.”

  She smiled and he laughed, and he felt more grateful than ever for her being there.

  Folding his arms, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

  “Oh no, here we go.”

  “Wake me up in an hour.”

  “Yeah. I’ll try.”

  Chapter 25

  Rachette snuck to the hallway that led to the squad room and peeked around the corner.

  At the end of the corridor, MacLean paced inside his glass aquarium office with a cell phone pasted to his ear. His gruff tone echoed all the way to Rachette, but he couldn’t make out the words.

  “Can I help you?”

  Rachette turned around. A deputy whose name eluded him waddled forward, his pear-shaped body swaying side to side. His eyebrows were propped up in a superior expression.

  “Hey, I’m Deputy Rachette,” he said, holding out his hand.

  The other deputy shook with a cold palm. “Rachette?”

  “Yeah, I was in the Sluice Department. I got shot a few months ago. Been recovering, so I haven’t been around much. But I’m just about back in action.”

  The deputy eyed Rachette up and down as if looking for the wound.

  “Right here.” He patted his shoulder. “Took a nine-mil hollow point. Blew my shoulder pretty much to shreds. Luckily, though, wasn’t a direct hit on the joint. Could’ve been worse.”

  The deputy stood frozen with those eyebrows.

  Rachette eyed his name patch. “Well, Deputy Prough, it was nice to meet—”

  “Prough,” he corrected, pronouncing it Prow, rather than rhyming it with the bodily function as Rachette had done.

  “Prough. Cool. Nice to meet you. Later.” Rachette double-timed it the opposite way toward the stairwell.

  He’d gotten nowhere with the visit to the department. The FBI had all gone, and none of the deputies were there except a few low ranks that were holding down the fort for admin duty—deputies Rachette had met once at most and whose names he’d forgotten instantly, so he’d decided against engaging them in his plain clothing.

  Trotting down the stairway and stepping outside, he pulled out his cell phone and considered who to call.

  His derelict car was parked six blocks away, hidden behind a line of vehicles. It could rot there for all he cared.

  He had a long walk home to his apartment, with nothing waiting for him when he arrived. Eyeing the Sunnyside Café, he decided on a meal first.

  His phone vibrated.

  Jack is missing. The text message was from Patterson.

  Rachette’s chest tightened. What the hell?

  He pushed her phone number.

  “Hey.” She sounded breathless.

  “Jack’s missing?” His armpits broke into a sweat. His phone vibrated again and there was a beep in his ear—another call coming in from a number he didn’t recognize. “Tell me everything. What do you mean he’s missing?”

  The connection crackled. “Just a … school … there, so we’re going to his grandparents’ house.”

  “He’s missing from school so you’re going to his grandparents’ house?”

  “Yeah.”

  He paced in front of the county building. “I think his grandparents are out of town. I remember Wolf telling me that they go up to Vail a lot now for a development project Sarah’s father’s involved in.”

  The connection crackled again.

  “Hello?”

  There was no answer.

  His phone chimed and vibrated again, and it was the same random phone number.

  Again he ignored it. “Patterson? Are you there?”

  “Just a second.”

  “Okay.”

  A full twenty seconds passed and then Patterson’s voice was a whisper. “… might be bad. I don’t know …”

  “What?” Rachette asked. “Might be bad? The connection?”

  “No.” Patterson’s voice was a plea.

  Rachette stood listening to dead silence. “I can’t hear you. Call me back when you get into good cell range.”

  “… breaking up. I’ll keep you …”

  Damn it. “Keep me posted!”

  No answer, and then the connection went dead.

  He stood breathing heavily and then forced himself to relax. Jack was at an age where it was normal to skip school. And hadn’t Wolf recently been concerned that his grandparents were spending time away this month for a project in Vail?

  And who knew how Jack was holding up after his mother’s death? Maybe he was skipping a lot of school now. Maybe he was even thinking about running away. Maybe he’d heard about his father being on the run and had done the same.

  His phone vibrated and rang again.

  It was the same number he’d screened before.

  “What?”

  “Tom?”

  “What? Who’s this?”

  “It’s Harold Burton.”

  “Sir.” His face went instantly hot. “Thank God you called. Patterson says Jack Wolf is missing.”

  “I know. I have him.”

  He blinked. “You do?”

  “Yes. And I need your help, right now.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll explain everything when you get here. Where are you?”

  He turned and looked at the glass façade above him. “I’m in front of the county building.”

  “I don’t want you to repeat any of this conversation to anyone, above all to MacLean or anyone from his department. Not to any Byron County deputies. In fact, better to tell no one at all. Am I clear?”

  “Okay, yeah, sure. What is it?”

  “We have reason to believe MacLean is behind Wolf’s framing.”

  “Really?”

  Burton paused. “We’re not sure who else could be involved. But it’s probably best not to trust anyone from Byron County.”

  Rachette thought of Patterson and how she was with Undersheriff Lancaster. Then he thought of Deputy Munford’s beautiful face and his heart dropped. The odds of her playing him for a fool had just gone up.

  Then he turned around and flinched, because Deputy Munford stood only a few feet away.

  “… of the firehouse?”

  “Uh … sorry … what was that?”

  Deputy Munford was staring, listening. And for how long? He turned away and walked down the sidewalk.

  “I asked if you know where my wife’s family’s place is, a few miles south of the abandoned firehouse on 328?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Good. Bring every gun you have and plenty o
f ammo. See you there as soon as possible. Don’t tell anyone about this, do you hear me? Anyone.”

  “Sir, my car just broke down.”

  “What?”

  Rachette felt like a kid who’d just told his father he’d crapped his pants. “It just died. Minutes ago.”

  Burton exhaled hard into the phone. “Can you fix it?”

  Rachette calculated the odds of that. “No.”

  “Can you get another car? From a friend?”

  He looked back and saw that Munford was still standing on the sidewalk, still intently listening to his every word.

  “I’ll work on it.”

  Burton said nothing for a few seconds and then hung up.

  Rachette pocketed his phone and walked to her.

  “Jack Wolf is missing?” Munford asked. “Dave Wolf’s son?”

  He ignored her, scrolling in his mind through the images of his friends outside the force and the vehicles they drove. He crossed off the first three guys he could think of. Two of them rode their bicycles everywhere and used the bus to get to work in the winter, and the third one would never let him use his BMW SUV. Not in a million years, unless maybe he told him about Jack being in danger, which Burton had instructed him not to.

  “And you were talking about your car being dead, right? Do you need a ride somewhere?”

  For an instant, he was sucked into her eyes, then snapped out of it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You said, Sir, thank God you called. Patterson says Jack Wolf is missing. That’s what I heard you say into the phone. I was right here. Then you said, My car just broke down.” She tapped her ear. “I have pretty good hearing.”

  Idiot. How had he not seen her?

  “Tom, tell me, do you need help? Do you need a ride somewhere?”

  “No.” He thought of another friend he drank beers with at Beer Goggles, but he didn’t have the guy’s number and had no clue where he lived. “Shit. Maybe.”

  Munford’s voice softened. “Listen, if you need help, we’re here. Jack Wolf is missing? Let’s get everyone mobilized, damn it.”

  “No. No. It’s not like that. I was mistaken.”