by Jeff Carson
As we all know, three and a half months ago Agent Smith was murdered, along with the real-estate agent in Rocky Points, Colorado. This has to do directly with the new properties purchased by the cartel outside of Rocky Points, the fact that Smith and I learned about them, and the political race for sheriff of the newly merged Sluice and Byron Counties.
Agent Smith and I realized that the cartel was expanding northward into the former Sluice County—expanding its operations as the size of the county expanded. Agent Smith approached the cartel and told them we required more money since we would be keeping this new information quiet. As Smith put it, as their operation grew, so our fee needed to grow.
They acquiesced, and began paying us more money. I was increasingly frightened by the prospect, but Agent Smith was not. He did not have a family to worry about. He seemed to be living his true calling, acting the extortionist to dangerous men.
Agent Smith, as we all know, ended up dead in a sedan with the real-estate agent in question. The reason is clear enough. The reason I was spared for all this time is not, but I was told that Smith’s death was not a sanctioned move inside the cartel. I’m not sure what this means, other than there could be a power struggle happening within the cartel itself. Perhaps a breakout faction of the cartel murdered Agent Smith, fed up with his brazen moves. Perhaps this faction has won an inside battle, and that is why they are going after me right now.
As far as the former sheriff of Sluice County goes, he is innocent of all wrong-doings, no matter how it will look by the end of the day. I know this because Agent Smith and I were given those photos of Gail Olson making a drug swap with the Sluice County deputy. Gail Olson worked for the cartel and, as far as we could gather, the cartel made her set up the Sluice County deputy named Rachette, and they took the photos of her making the drugs hand-off.
We were given those photos because we were told that if we were to be paid more money, we needed to start pulling more weight in the cartel’s affairs.
We started working with a man named Clayton Pope, whose profile is included in the storage unit, but easy enough to gather yourself. It was clear to me that Pope did not like us, and I’m pretty certain he is the one after me today.
Back to the point, Pope ordered Smith and I to put the pictures into play to make the Sluice County Sheriff’s Department look bad, and help MacLean and the employees of the Byron County Sheriff’s Department retain power in the merged county going forward.
Why? Because the cartel has a mole or moles inside the Byron County Sheriff’s Department, and they want to keep them there as the county expands. We suspect that the man named Lancaster is a mole. His attitude spurred us to look into his financials, and he is clearly taking payments. After a thorough investigation into MacLean and his financials, it’s clear that the sheriff is unaware of the infiltration inside his department.
All of the information Agent Smith and I have compiled on the Ghost Cartel and proof of what I’ve said in this email can be found at the Trout Creek Moving and Storage facility in Gunnison, Colorado—Unit #62.
I’m afraid that time is short on retrieving this information, however. Jeffrey Lethbridge was the lawyer we secretly tasked to pass on the information to the Bureau upon our death. Somehow the cartel found out his identity, and the nature of our relationship with him, and he and his entire family have been executed this morning. Furthermore, his copy of the storage key has been taken.
I have given my copy of the storage-unit key to Kristen Luke in the hope that she can beat them to the contents inside.
I’m not proud of what Agent Smith and I have done. But I hope in the end that this email and the information we’ve compiled can help bring down these evil men.
By the end of today, I know I’ll have suffered a fate that I deserve.
We messed with the bull and got the horns.
Please, sir, I implore you, make sure my family does not suffer the same fate as I have.
Sincerely,
Terrence Tedescu, Former Special Agent
Wolf took a sip of water. “What I don’t get is that this email came in to Frye that night we were camped out in the woods, right?”
She nodded. “Yep.”
“So why weren’t Frye and the FBI waiting for us at the storage unit the next day?”
“Because I didn’t get the email until later that day.” Frye’s voice came from the doorway. “I was driving all around the mountains, chasing your ass, and the poor excuse for cell service you guys have up here didn’t deliver Tedescu’s email to my phone until a day later. After we’d already missed you at Gunnison.”
Luke wheeled back from Wolf’s bed and swiveled to face her boss.
“That, and it eventually came to my personal email address, and I’m not in the habit of scouring my personal emails on my phone when I’m chasing a perp. So I didn’t see the email in time. And then once I had seen it, you guys had already disabled your phones and weren’t answering our calls.” Frye walked in uninvited and gazed out the hospital-room window. “Nice view.”
Wolf followed his eyes to the western peaks, which were darkened in afternoon shadow.
“What day is it?” Wolf asked.
“It’s Tuesday,” Luke said. “Four days after.”
Wolf remembered the gun poking in the truck window and pressing against Baine’s head. He recalled the sound, light, and heat. And the voice.
“MacLean saved me,” Wolf said.
Luke nodded. “He followed you and Baine in his truck, saw you guys wrecked in the trees.”
Frye cleared his throat. “According to Sheriff MacLean, he heard Deputy Baine confess to murdering your ex-wife.”
Wolf’s eyes glazed over as he remembered his final moments of consciousness that day. “Yes. He did.”
Luke exhaled. “Tedescu said nothing about Baine in his email.”
“Like Tedescu said, the cartel was expanding.” Frye walked to Wolf’s bed and looked him in the eye. “Right into your department.”
Wolf shook his head. If there was one deputy in his department who had the personality to cross to the dark side, it was Baine.
“I need to ask you.”
“No.”
“You haven’t heard my question yet.”
“You’re going to ask if I suspect that any other deputies might have been working with the cartel. And my answer’s no.”
Frye stared silently and then nodded. “We raided seven grow houses and the moving and storage company down south.”
“And?”
Frye shook his head. “Huge operation. We seized over a thousand plants, and we’re not done weighing the product yet, but it’s going to be a lot. We brought in twenty-one suspects, and most of them are singing. We’ll bring in more today. Ashland Moving and Storage had a fleet of ten rental trucks with false bottoms. That’s how they moved the product from here to their final destination.”
“And why frame me and leave me alive? That’s what I want to know.” Wolf closed his eyes. “Why not just plant the gun and shoot me in the head from three hundred yards and get it all done with? Or better yet, come kill me and make it look like suicide?”
Luke shrugged. “First an FBI agent killed, then a real-estate agent, then a drug runner, then a former sheriff? Would have brought some serious suspicion.”
Wolf thought about Jack. Had he visited him this time in the hospital?
“I was a wreck back then. I could’ve killed myself.”
“They were going to take you down in the county jail once you were mixed in with the general population,” Frye said. “One of the men we took in, Luther Garcia, knew the whole plan. He says our Pope guy took control of the cartel just a few days ago. It was Pope’s idea to eliminate the Smith and Tedescu blackmail issue and to set you up. The whole plan was killing two birds with one stone, eliminating the blackmail problem and putting their inside man into the sheriff’s office.”
“And they had to eliminate Sarah, too,” Wolf said.
&n
bsp; “Yes.”
Wolf shook his head. “What if I’d got a good lawyer and stayed out of jail?”
“The charges would’ve stuck. The bail would’ve been astronomical.” Frye nodded. “We would’ve made sure of that given the nature of the crime. You would’ve spent at least a few nights in general population. Needless to say, now we’re looking into corruption in Quad County. It’s a damn mess.”
They sat in contemplative silence.
“But,” Frye said, clapping his hands, “you can thank your girlfriend here for defying orders, and the late Agent Tedescu for being a scumbag disgrace to the Bureau with a conscience. I’ve got a busy rest of the day. Feel better, Mr. Wolf.”
Frye left without saying another word.
Luke stared after him, then wheeled forward and banged her foot against the bed. “Ah, crap.”
“I’m sensing he’s a little bitter,” Wolf said. “You going to be in trouble after all?”
She shrugged. “No. He’s just passive-aggressive by nature.” She turned around and bent her head back at an awkward angle. Lips pursed, she stared at Wolf. “Give me a kiss.”
Wolf smiled and leaned over.
They squirmed and grunted, and managed to peck each other, connecting more teeth than lips.
She wheeled away. “I’m getting out. I’ll see you later.” She stopped at the door and turned on squeaky wheels. “I’ll send Jack in.”
His body stiffened as he watched her leave, a knowing, sympathetic smile on her face. “Luke.”
She stopped and reversed into view.
“Thanks,” he said. “Sarah says thanks, too.”
She lowered her eyes and wheeled through the door.
Chapter 50
Wolf stared at the doorway for what felt like an eternity.
Shadows accompanied with sounds passed by—medical personnel murmuring about patients, squeaky-wheeled gurneys, footsteps, and a lone cough—but Jack would not come.
Maybe he’d assumed too much about the state of his and Jack’s relationship.
Wolf had found the man who’d killed Sarah, and though he’d been unable to dole out the justice himself, justice had been served. But it remained as Jack had said it: Wolf had failed Sarah that night. He’d ignored her phone call and voice message and gone out drinking. He’d ignored her pleas for help, ultimately landing in bed with a deranged psychotic instead of taking care of his family.
Lowering his eyes, he stared at the sheets through a blur of tears.
“Dad?”
He blinked and wiped his cheeks.
“Can I come in?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
Jack walked in hesitantly, studying every nook and cranny of the room like he suspected they were on some hidden-camera television show. He put his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and stopped at the foot of the bed.
His green eyes were ringed red.
“I’m sorry,” Jack said.
“About what?”
“Doubting you.”
Wolf swallowed. “I’m sorry, too. I’m so sorry.”
Jack rounded the side of the bed. “It’s not your fault.”
The tears welled up again. This time Wolf let them pool and stream down his cheeks.
Jack collapsed onto him and cried into his shoulder.
The cast twisted under the weight of his son and pressed into the tender bone of his femur. With clenched eyes and teeth, Wolf hugged Jack as hard as he could, feeling none of the pain.
Chapter 51
Two Months Later …
“About time you showed up.” MacLean stood up, a shadow among the gleaming glass and wood of his office.
Wolf shuffled his crutches and shook his hand. “Good to see you, MacLean. Nice view.”
The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the western skyline, from the low hills of Cave Creek to the north, to Rocky Points Ski Resort to the south, and all the blazing white peaks in between.
“Yeah, isn’t this a beauty office? Sit, sit. Cold as crap out there, huh?”
He lowered himself gently into the chair, and shifted until the pain dissipated enough to sag his entire weight down.
“Geez, you okay?”
“I’ll live.”
“I sure hope so. We need you here in the department.” MacLean opened a folder and pushed a stapled stack of papers forward.
Wolf eyed the Sluice–Byron County official seal on the top of the page. “Cutting right to the chase, huh?”
MacLean bridged his fingers. “It’s what I do.”
“You haven’t come to visit me,” Wolf said. “Not once.”
“I couldn’t. Been busy. You’re one to talk.”
Wolf nodded. “I wanted to wait until I could come in under my own power, without the help of wheels.”
“I’m glad to see you’re up and around.”
A metallic crash came from somewhere outside the office, like someone had dropped a metal bowl or platter.
MacLean stood up and looked through the glass wall. “I take it you’ve heard about the Christmas party we’re having at lunch today. Not gonna be much. Just some food everyone brought in. Hope you’ll be joining us.”
Wolf cleared his throat. “I haven’t had a chance to say thanks for saving my life.”
“You want coffee?” MacLean walked to his door. “I’m going to get coffee.”
Wolf stared at him for a moment. “Yeah, sure. Black.”
MacLean left and walked past the windows, and a few moments later Patterson poked her head in.
“Hey, welcome back,” she said with a smile.
He smiled back and nodded.
“Come say hi when you’re done. We’re in the squad room.” She left.
He shifted onto his left butt cheek, cringing at the dull ache in his other leg.
“Here you go.” MacLean entered and handed him a steaming Styrofoam cup.
“Thanks.”
“So?” MacLean sat with a sigh. “What do you think?”
“About what?”
“Shit, you haven’t even looked at the contract?” MacLean picked up the packet of paper from the desk.
“No, sorry.”
MacLean smiled and sipped his coffee. “You’re such a bastard. I put a lot of time and thought into this offer. And you don’t even look at it?”
Wolf sipped his cup.
MacLean walked to his windows and gazed out. “I have a dinner scheduled with Senator Chama this evening in Ashland, a gala I have to attend this Saturday night, a council meeting on Monday, discussing the budget allocations of the upcoming year, and, oh yeah, I’m going skiing with Margaret Hitchens and a colleague of hers who’s some sort of big-wig in a real-estate development firm. Guy’s no idiot, knows I’m a voting member of the council when it comes to most county projects so he wants to meet me and make sure he takes me to the Antler Creek Lodge for lunch.”
Wolf watched a pair of deputies walk by the office windows.
MacLean slapped down the packet of papers. “And as I can see by the way your eyes glaze over when I talk about that kind of stuff, ruling you out for my undersheriff position was the right move. Naturally, my undersheriff will be expected to attend many of these social events with me. I’d rather have that man be all there, if you will. Check me if I’m on the wrong track, here.”
Wolf shrugged. “Sounds logical to me so far.”
“I also have some nut-job walking around town flashing his private parts to women, and I’ve got a string of car robberies in the parking lots at Rocky Points Ski Resort. It seems my deputies can’t find their own buttholes on this, and I’m going to get reamed for it all at the council meeting on Monday if I don’t make some progress. So, for the love of all things good and cuddly, sign the damn papers, take your ten percent raise and head up my detective bureau already.”
Wolf took the packet of papers and studied them.
“I’ve offered undersheriff to Wilson. He’s refusing to make a decision until he knows if you want it
or not.”
“I think we’re clear on that.”
“I’ll let him know today. You think he’s a good choice?”
“I do. Wilson is a fine man.”
MacLean put both hands on the desk. “So? You’re killing me with suspense here. Head detective? You’re basically second in command laterally with Wilson, but don’t tell him I said that. Or the county council.”
“This says I start tomorrow.” Wolf poked at a page.
MacLean shrugged. “Coming in here a few days a week will give you something to do while you heal.”
Wolf tossed the packet back onto MacLean’s desk. “Twenty percent.”
MacLean leaned his head back and laughed. “You kiddin’ me? This is a ten percent raise from your previous salary as sheriff. As sheriff.” He pushed the packet forward. “Come on, let’s go, Wolf. I can’t bring that demand to the county council. I’m already feeling more heat from them than a blow-torch. Sign the papers.”
Wolf scooted forward and teetered up onto his good leg. “I happen to know the new budget figures you’re working with, Will. You won’t get heat for securing a high-value employee by giving him an offer he can’t refuse. Not with that budget. I’ll see you later.” Gathering his crutches, he hobbled to the door.
“Come on.” MacLean stood and shook his head. “Well, I guess that’s the way it is. I really can’t be paying my head detective that much. I’ll just have to start looking elsewhere. I have an eye on a good man from my old department.”
Wolf paused and looked over his shoulder. “Just a heads-up about Chama before your dinner tonight. He came to me with a USB drive before the election. I never saw what was on the drive, but he all but told me it was a video of you caught in some sort of risky business, if you know what I mean.”
MacLean’s face went whiter than the peaks behind him.
Wolf planted the crutches. “Oh, and they’re related.”