by Jeff Carson
Wolf crossed the street, Rachette and Cain following behind him.
“I’d call that a definitive alibi for Hammes,” Rachette said.
They walked in silence over the dirt. When they came to Cain’s Jeep Wolf stopped.
“I’ll see you back at the SUV,” he said, tossing Rachette the keys.
Rachette walked away, leaving them standing at Cain’s driver’s side door.
“Look, I’m sorry about what you had to go through yesterday,” he said. “That was a tough thing.”
Her dark eyes looked up at him. The smooth skin of her forehead creased in a web of shallow folds. Her lips parted.
“But I want to know, what exactly are you doing here?”
She looked past him and her eyes glazed over. "I kept thinking about that dog. The way it yelped. Biting at its back leg as it sprayed blood. And the way Hammes just dropped.” She shook her head. “The sound of him getting shot keeps echoing in my head.” Her eyelashes brushed the tops of her cheeks.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said.
Yes, sir. I like your daughter.
Look at her. She looks beautiful doesn't she?
Yes, she does look beautiful.
She looked him in the eye, catching Wolf as he was lost inside the memory. Without warning his face grew hot, probably as red as the lights on top of her roof.
“Last night I went to the bar where everybody goes to drink at in Dredge,” she continued. “The Picker. I did some asking around and learned where Hammes was working.”
Wolf blinked. “And you decided to keep that information to yourself?”
She looked away. “I…” she shook her head.
“You what?”
"I was a millisecond away from squeezing my trigger too, and they both would have been dead. That dog and Hammes. There's no way they could've survived two shots."
"But they're alive now," Wolf said. "You know that, right?"
She crossed her arms. "I heard the dog’s all right, and I called the hospital this morning to see about Hammes. I heard he got through the surgery.”
She swallowed, looking like she was fighting back tears with pure willpower. Her face turned gritty again. "I kept thinking, why would he tell the neighbor across the street that he was going to Vail to work if he wasn’t really going there? It's either an elaborate ploy where he could pretend like he was out of town while he went on a killing spree, or he really was working up here, in Vail, like he said he was.”
“And you went to the bar in Dredge, figured out where Hammes was working up here, and kept the information to yourself.”
"I was going to tell you,” she said. “Once I learned something. It could have been wrong information.”
Yes, she does look beautiful.
He thought of the way she’d touched his arm, and this time a different heat rose inside of him.
“I’m leading this investigation,” he said. “I have a team of three detectives on the case with me. That’s four people qualified to make that call.”
“I know, sir. I’m—”
“—I appreciate the help you’ve given us over the last couple days, but, officially, you’re not part of this investigation. You’re our Dredge satellite deputy. Do you understand?”
Her eyes narrowed. She unfolded her arms, raised her chin, and nodded. “Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”
He had meant the words to come out gentler. But, still, she had done wrong.
She pushed her back away from the car, standing straight. “I understand perfectly, as I did back in February. I’ll head back to where I belong.”
She quickly climbed into her Jeep and drove away, leaving Wolf in a cloud of dust. With her words still ringing in his ears, he walked back to the SUV and got in.
“How’d it go?” Rachette asked.
Wolf fired up the engine, ignoring him.
“That good, huh? Is she applying for a job in Rocky Points or something?" he asked, and Wolf realized Rachette had Piper Cain’s resume sitting on his lap.
"Where'd you get that?"
"Saw it behind the seat. Her picture was spilling out.”
“Put it back.” He snatched it from Rachette and threw it over his shoulder.
They drove in silence back to the highway. Once they got up to seventy miles per hour, Rachette said something under his breath.
“What did you say?”
Rachette put a pinch of Copenhagen in his lip. “I was just saying. It’s a good thing MacLean’s coming back.”
“Oh. And why’s that?”
“Because then it won’t be so awkward for you to date her. Sheriff and a deputy? Can’t be done. Detective and a deputy? That’s doable.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Wolf said.
“Of course you don’t. Hey, phone call.” Rachette held up a finger and pulled his phone from his pocket. “What’s up, Patty?…okay, he’s right here…yeah”
Wolf sucked in a few breaths with little success of calming himself.
Rachette spat into his Red Bull can and lowered the phone. “Rick Hammes woke up. Surgery went well, apparently.”
Wolf nodded. “We’ll head back to HQ and you and Yates can go talk to him.”
“Yates and I will go talk to him,” Rachette relayed into the phone. “What’s that? Yeah, they confirmed Hammes was with them Friday night at a bar here in Edwards until 1:30 a.m., and then he was back on the job working bright and early the next morning…yep…that’s what I said…All right, talk to you soon.”
Rachette clicked off the phone and pocketed it. After a few minutes of silence he said “Okay, so Yates and I will head up to County. And what are you going to do?”
“I’ll return this call to Jackson Hole this afternoon, see what I can learn about our three miners from the Teton County sheriff. Then I may go back up to Dredge.”
“Yates and I will go with you.”
“You’ll be up at County. I’ll go it alone.”
Rachette nodded, spitting in his can again. “Yes, sir. You could always get Cain to help you out, anyway.”
Wolf eyed him. His detective hid a smirk under a thin layer of serious contemplation as he stared out the passenger window.
“One of these days you and Patterson will mind your own business.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rachette said.
Chapter 20
Piper Cain parked her Jeep in the driveway next to Stacy’s pickup truck and looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were sore and bloodshot from the two hour drive down from the Vail Valley, all the while repressing the urge to break down into a sobbing mess.
She was never one for crying, never had been, and she’d managed to make it home without doing so this time.
“Good job,” she told herself in the mirror.
Through the windshield she saw her father standing on the front porch, leaning against the railing and gazing out over the valley like he loved to do for hours a day. That was all well and good, but he looked like he was getting wet.
She turned off the wipers and let the vision of her father standing out in the rain with that lost look blur behind the drops spattering the glass.
“Buck up.” She gripped the mirror and twisted it sideways, then got out and shut the door.
When was it going to stop raining every afternoon? Obviously not today. Her shoulders were soaked through to her skin by the time she hopped up onto the porch.
“Hi Honey Bear,” her father said.
“Hi Dad.”
Her father looked at her with surprise, and she knew he had thought she was her mother again.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “You’re getting wet.”
Stacy came out the front door, wiping her hands on a towel. “Oh, geez. I was doing dishes. I’m sorry I didn’t notice he was out here. Back up, Peter. My gosh.”
Stacy steered her father to the side and into a dry spot. Her father just shrugged her away and w
ent to his favorite spot again.
“Don’t worry about it,” Piper said. “The rain’s letting up.” Piper pulled out a hundred dollars in twenties and handed it over. “Here. Thanks so much for coming. That’s all I have for now. I know I was gone longer than five hours. I’ll pay you more next time. Okay?”
Stacy stared at the money. “That’s okay, Piper. Look, why don’t you just keep it?”
“What?” Piper stepped forward and shoved the money into Stacy’s pants pocket. “Here.”
“But it was your day off again, wasn’t it?”
“So what?”
“So you won’t get paid for those hours.”
Piper walked up next to her dad. “I told you, Jake’s been helping out.”
“Jake?” Her father’s eyes lit up, as they always did at the mention of his deadbeat son. “When is he coming home?”
“Good question,” she said.
Although her brother had been sending two thousand a month in guilt money, the truth was he’d missed his payment last week. She only hoped he would keep his word and help out this month, too. Piper’s earnings and the county aid only went so far.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, right?” she asked.
"I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Stacy said, “And you're not giving me this much. I told you, I have a pension already from the hospital. I don’t need this money as much as you do right now. I’m not taking this from my best friend’s daughter when she needs it the most, and I don’t want to hear any more about it.” She came over and pushed money into Piper’s back pocket as she walked by.
“Hey.” Piper dug out sixty dollars. “What the heck?”
“See you tomorrow!” Stacy was already down the stairs and ducking into her pickup. For a plump woman in her seventies, she moved like a cheetah.
Fighting back yet another urge to break into tears, Piper waved with the money and put it back in her pocket. Stacy responded with two honks as she drove down the driveway.
The rain all but stopped, turning into a faint sprinkle as they watched the pickup rev down the dirt road and out of sight behind the trees.
The curtain of low fog and rain parted, revealing the panorama ahead. A spear of sunshine lanced down through a hole in the clouds on the other side of the valley, lighting a swath of forest a dozen or more miles away. She couldn’t help but notice the direction the light drew her gaze—thirty to forty-five minutes of driving, depending on the weather, the Chautauqua Valley and Rocky Points huddled on the other side of those peaks.
"Let me tell you the story of how I picked this property,” her father said.
Piper eyed him.
“I was driving up this road here. Right here.”
“I’ve heard it,” she said, stopping him dead in his tracks.
She stared at his eyes, watching the circuits behind them scramble.
“Excuse me?” he asked. When he looked at her it was like they were meeting for the first time again.
She turned away, looking back out at the landscape, ignoring the wave of anger that washed over her. She pushed it down, out of the way, adding to the diamond-dense ball of pent up loathing for this sliver of God’s country she found herself in. The shaft of light disappeared, pinched off by the clouds.
She thought about the way the sheriff had looked down on her up in that parking lot. Just when she’d thought he was beginning to respect her, he showed his true colors. He was just like the rest of them. Just like her brother. They were all out there taking care of their own, and if anyone or anything ever threatened their climb up the ladder, they stepped on your back and shoved you down, put you in your place, leaving you behind to claw your way. Alone.
They were all cowards.
“I…” her father said. “I…”
“You what?” Her voice shook. “What!”
Her voice echoed back to her from the trees, and that broke the dam. She opened the front door and walked inside as the tears flowed down her face. “Damn it,” she said, growling the words.
With blurred eyes she set to cleaning the rest of the dishes that sat in the sink, and when those were done she re-cleaned the already clean ones on the towel.
All the while her father stood out there, staring into the distance with that pathetic air.
She scrubbed the stubborn streaks of blackened steak stuck to a platter, rubbing her fingers raw on the wiry sponge. She ran the coffee mugs under scalding hot water, welcoming the burn on the backs of her hands, not bothering to lower the temperature.
She shut off the water, and with closed eyes took deep breaths, just like she’d learned in yoga. Five seconds in, hold, seven seconds out. After a time she opened her eyes and caught her reflection in the window.
She had Tammy Faye Bakker-style twin streaks of black mascara running down her cheeks. She smiled and then chuckled at the sight. She wiped her hands, grabbed a handful of tissues, and wiped her face.
“Oh, you’re a mess, Piper,” she told herself.
Sucking in a deep, cleansing breath, she went to the window again and looked out on her father. His lips were moving as he stared out into the distance. What a sad sight was all she could think. But was he sad? It sure didn’t look like it. His eyes were steely, and he had a clever smirk on his face. He was impressing whoever he was talking to right now.
She put on a fleece, pulled his off the hook, and went out onto the porch.
Again, he looked at her the way somebody does when they’re trying to remember your name, but she ignored it.
“Here, Dad.” She put his fleece over his shoulders. “It’s cold.”
“Thanks, honey.”
She reached up and rubbed his shoulders. “How’s the view?”
“It’s absolutely wondrous,” he said.
She smiled at the amazement in his voice. He’d never described it like that before.
"Have I ever told you how I found this property?" he asked.
"No,” she said, lying momentously. “How?"
He smiled, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "I came up from Summit one day. I was driving my old silver Chevy.”
She remembered sitting on the center console of that silver Chevy Blazer as they drove around the dirt roads spidering through the mountains, without even a thought of a seat belt, her older brother next to her in the passenger seat.
“I came around the corner and there was this “for sale” sign hanging on a rickety old barbed wire fence.” Her father smiled. “And I tell you what, behind it I could see this house right here, the one I built ten years later with my own two hands, I saw it as if it was already built. I could literally see it.”
He turned to her, his eyes alight.
She smiled again and nodded. “Yeah?”
"I got on the phone and I dialed the number on the sign, and I said, 'Where can I find you? I want to sign the papers right now. I'm buying it.' The guy was down at the bar. Said to come on over. He was having a drink.”
Piper smiled, picturing her father.
He continued on giving his account of the shots of tequila, the beers, sleeping in his silver Chevy on the side of the road, waking up with that wicked hangover and a signed contract to buy the land. About her mother being distraught, not wanting to leave her life in Breckenridge, but how she had been convinced with one trip to this place. This beautiful place.
Piper asked all the right questions, keeping her father on track, pausing in all the right places, sighing in awe at his retelling of the yarn that had remained constant, word for word, for seventeen years.
"It took me two years, twenty-six months," her father said. “But the dream was realized.” He held up his hands and turned toward the house. “And here it is.”
He turned back to the land, and his eyes glazed over again, and she knew he’d reached the end of the strand of memory.
The clouds had moved north, leaving the afternoon sun to shine brightly on most of the now glistening valley.
She threaded her arm through h
is and steered him around. “Let’s go inside then.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“Yes, Dad,” she said. “Let’s get you back in your home.”
Chapter 21
Wolf stood up from his desk and bent over to touch his toes. When he reached the middle of his shins the pain in his hamstrings and lower back was too much, so he rose up and opted for a pace around the office instead, raising his knees high with each step.
A deputy walked past his window, eyeing him through the slatted shades.
The phone speaker pressed to his ear scratched. “Sir? Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, sir. Sheriff Domino is not available right now, and he’s not answering his cell phone. It’s very shoddy reception around here, I’ll tell you. I would say I could raise him on the radio, but he’s up fishing with some friends in Idaho and not due back until Monday. But I can give you his office voicemail, which I know he checks regularly, even though he’s gone. He may be catching trout, but he’ll probably return your call.”
“That would be great, thank you.”
He was connected, and tagged Sheriff Domino in their marathon game.
He took some time perusing the new emails that had come in. It had been days and he was sure whatever servers that were holding his unread emails were bursting at the seams.
Swiveling to the window, he looked out at the rain drenching the valley for the umpteenth day in a row. Now that Jack was part of the fire department over in Carbondale, he felt a new gratitude for rain. But he also knew the weather could turn relentlessly dry overnight, sticking around for months on end. The choking, smoke-spitting blazes could ignite again, threatening the ever-growing population of the Colorado Rockies and the firefighters who fought them. It was not a matter of if, but when.
On that note, he thought of the fire he’d ignited with Deputy Cain up in Edwards a few hours earlier. Not the good kind of flames, either.
He scrolled to her phone number and stared at it.
“He’s playing with his phone?” A booming voice in the doorway made him flinch.