Rain (David Wolf Book 11)

by Jeff Carson

  She looked at them. “I don’t know.”

  “It fits,” Earnshaw said.

  “Who was that on the phone?” Wolf asked.

  Earnshaw looked up. “My phone call?”

  Wolf nodded.

  “Some units are out in the boonies, on Highway 2. I was calling them back.”

  “You seemed upset.”

  Earnshaw narrowed his eyes. “They haven’t come up with squat besides Swain’s vehicle out in the forest. I have a missing agent. One who might be involved in a double murder out on Discovery Park Beach. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in days. Yeah, you could say I’m a bit upset.”

  “Seems to me like we have a new destination,” Wolf said. “Somewhere closer than two hours away.”

  “Discovery Park,” Earnshaw said.

  Wolf nodded. “If this witness saw something, we need to know what.”

  “Can you remember what this kid looks like if we see him?” Earnshaw asked.

  Luke shrugged. “He had a hoodie. Scraggy blond beard. Bloodshot eyes. Thin and tall. Not a unique look around here but, yeah, I could probably recognize him.”

  “Then we have a lead,” Earnshaw said. He looked at Nackley. “I’ll call Staten.”

  “Staten?” Nackley pulled his eyebrows together.

  Luke eyed Wolf. “Staten was Special Agent Hooper’s partner.”

  “Let’s go.” Earnshaw stood up.

  Wolf looked down. He’d only eaten two bites of the pizza but his stomach demanded he shove the rest in his mouth. So on the way to the trashcan, he did just that.

  Chapter 23

  Special Agent Kristen Luke eyed the side-view mirror and caught a glimpse of Wolf’s face in the backseat.

  He looked out into the foreign territory and squinted. His jaw jutted forward, covered in that perfect beard he always got when he missed a day’s shave.

  “What time is the ceremony tomorrow?” Earnshaw asked.

  Luke felt guilt puncture her gut.

  “Three thirty.”

  “Right there in Rocky Points?” Earnshaw asked.

  Luke closed her eyes. Why had she driven there? No other reason made sense except to see David Wolf. Or Heather Patterson. Nobody else there meant squat to her. But why?

  She followed the thread of memory from the coffee shop forward and hit a wall of half-formed images. One persistent image of a dark, enclosed space kept invading her mind. Every time she concentrated on it, her body kicked into fight-or-flight mode and she had to breathe deep to come back to the moment.

  She recognized the final turn. Then they were out of the trees and the lighthouse came into view.

  “That’s West Point Lighthouse,” Earnshaw said, slowing and parking the Caprice next to another squad vehicle.

  Other than Staten’s car, the parking lot was empty. Apparently, few people were nature lovers when nature spat water at you. Clouds hugged the bay, and tendrils of dark-gray rain licked the water, dimming the evening to near black.

  “Those buildings back there are the water-treatment plant,” Nackley said in the back seat.

  Wolf said nothing. What was he thinking? she wondered. The man’s strong-and-silent demeanor had definitely ramped up.

  She pulled the door handle and felt a sharp twinge in the middle two knuckles of her right hand.

  She stood, grateful for the onshore breeze. The last few times she’d gotten to her feet, a wave of dizziness had crashed over her. The ocean air seemed to help.

  Wolf zipped up the spare FBI jacket Earnshaw had given him and scanned the lot. “Not many people here.”

  “On a sunny day this place would be packed,” Nackley said, stepping out of his door. “But as you can see, not so much now.”

  The light above them flicked on.

  Nackley turned on a flashlight and handed another to Wolf. “We’re gonna need these.”

  “When does the park close?” Wolf asked.

  “Closes to vehicles at ten p.m. It’s patrolled by local PD,” Earnshaw said.

  “And they didn’t see anything that night?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Luke, check your inside pocket for a light,” Nackley said.

  She unzipped the jacket and the wind opened it like a sail. “This thing is huge.”

  She pulled a penlight and wrestled the coat closed again. “Got a gun in here?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Let’s go.” Earnshaw and Nackley took off toward the beach.

  She walked in silence next to Wolf, guilt tightening her chest. But rather than plead his forgiveness, she pulled the hood of the jacket over her greasy hair.

  The wind ripped through her sweatpants and swirled up into the oversized coat, chilling her to the bone and wafting her own body odor to her nose. She wished she was stepping into a hot shower and not into another blast of cold rain.

  The tide was higher than last time but the waves were small, tiny rollers that sloshed out of existence just as soon as they’d begun. The piles of driftwood looked like an ancient boneyard in the fading light.

  She watched Wolf eye the bay as a foghorn blew somewhere in the mist, troubled thoughts etched in his features.

  Special Agent Staten milled around with a flashlight down the path.

  A gust of wind hit her and she slowed. And then her vision swirled, and she felt herself falling sideways.

  “Hey.” Wolf grabbed her under her arms and lifted her up. “You all right?”

  She looked down at her feet. It took her a second, but her vision righted itself, and minus a pounding headache she felt fine.

  “I’m okay. I just …” An image came to her, but like a picture behind television static, it struggled to resolve.

  “What is it?” Wolf asked.

  She peeled his hands away from her sides. “I’m okay. Let’s go.”

  Earnshaw and Nackley were further on now and she hurried after them.

  Wolf’s beam swept the low brush to their left. She dared not look, fearing another bout of dizziness might hit her.

  A minute later they reached Staten and huddled in a circle.

  “Detective Wolf, this is Special Agent Staten.”

  Wolf and Staten shook hands.

  “How are you?”

  She squinted as Staten shone the light in her face.

  “Wow, nice bump.”

  She put up a hand and he lowered the beam.

  “They say you’re worthless,” he said. “Can’t remember shit.”

  “I can remember not liking you.”

  Staten’s smile vanished. “They say some kid approached you, said he saw Hooper’s death.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And this witness said he saw Swain here?”

  “Yep.”

  Staten scoffed. “You’re sure?”

  “I know what he said.”

  Staten stared her down for a beat, then looked past her. “So, then what the hell’s going on?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “Well, this is the right spot, yeah?” Staten asked. “That Chung Do asshole was right here, by this rock.”

  They swept their beams over the beach.

  “This is it,” Earnshaw said.

  Wolf had his beam pointed inland. The others followed his lead, illuminating the foliage a few yards away.

  “What?” Earnshaw asked.

  “I thought I saw something.”

  They stared into the darkness for a beat, rain swirling in their beams.

  “I don’t see anything,” Earnshaw said.

  Wolf lowered his light and turned back to the group.

  A beam danced over Staten’s face, and a vision leaped out of the darkness, making Luke flinch.

  She flexed her hand and focused on Staten’s cheek. Although it was dark and she’d sworn off makeup in the workplace a year ago, she could spot poorly matched concealer on a slight bulge easily enough.

  She turned toward the trees to hide her surprise.

&n
bsp; “Well, the kid would have been up there, in that brush,” Staten said. “Must have been homeless and hanging out in the right place, right time. If he was there—if Luke’s not full of shit—we’ll see some evidence.”

  “The kid was real,” she said, and she swiveled her beam into his face.

  Straight on, Staten’s features looked different. Normal.

  “Put that down,” he said, blocking the light with a hand.

  What was going on with her now? Hallucinations? Her heart pounded.

  “Luke!”

  “What?”

  “Are you okay?” Earnshaw asked.

  “Yes. What?”

  “I said let’s split up and start searching. You and I will go with Staten. Wolf and Nackley, you take that direction.”

  Wolf’s hand rested on the back of her arm.

  “No.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll go with Detective Wolf.”

  She eyed her boss, then Staten. Both their faces were in full darkness now.

  “You’re not armed,” Earnshaw said.

  “Detective Wolf has his service piece.”

  “I’d rather each group have two weapons.”

  “I’m going with Luke,” Wolf said.

  “Fine, you two go with Staten.”

  Nackley had his back turned. “What the hell’s going on there?”

  They followed his eyes to the parking lot just as a flash of headlights clipped over them.

  A car circled the two sedans. As it swung back around, the headlights flashed them again. Over the waves they could hear the engine rev and tires squeal.

  “What kind of punk-ass shit is this?” Earnshaw pulled his gun and stepped away.

  “Stay close.” Wolf’s voice was right next to her ear.

  The car lined up with them, flicked on the high-beams, and stopped. Four car doors bumped, and two silhouettes darted inland and out of sight.

  “Hey!” Staten pulled his gun and raised it in the air, on full display in the light. “Better turn that shit off!”

  Wolf’s light darted back and forth against the foliage.

  “What is it?”

  He ignored her and aimed at something.

  “What?”

  “Down!”

  Wolf reached back, grabbed her by the coat and pulled her to the ground just as bullets ripped the air around them.

  Chapter 24

  Wolf switched off his flashlight and helped Luke to her feet. “Turn off your light!”

  Bullets cracked the driftwood next to them. One round ricocheted off the water and screamed into the blackness.

  “Turn off your light!”

  She did, and Wolf aimed toward the last place he’d seen fire spitting from a muzzle and popped off three rounds.

  “Keep going,” he said.

  They sprinted down the path and he was surprised—pleasantly—to see Luke move so fast. She ducked around some rocks and he followed her, slipping into a pool of shadow.

  “Into the trees!” a strained voice called behind them.

  Wolf raised up and recognized Staten’s silhouette coming at them. His beam cut the darkness like a spotlight.

  “Shut off your light!” Wolf yelled.

  Staten did as he was told and slid to a halt next to them.

  More bullets zipped past them.

  “Shit, what is this!” Staten stood up above the rock’s edge and fired off five rounds.

  Wolf studied the inland terrain. The lights from downtown Seattle lit the clouds behind a copse of trees, but details disappeared behind the purple flowers smudging his vision from firing his gun.

  “Up!” Staten pointed. “We gotta cut up!”

  A bullet clipped off the rock. “Go!”

  He took Luke’s hand and followed.

  No more than two steps later, Luke tripped and pulled him down. As they fell, bullets hit the surrounding driftwood, sending a shower of splinters into Wolf’s face.

  He huddled next to Luke until the barrage stopped. “You all right?”

  “Let’s go.” Staten appeared in the darkness and let loose another volley of shots.

  With the muzzle flashes lighting the beach, Wolf saw Luke lying on her back, her head pushed forward at an awkward angle.

  “Luke!” He checked her pulse and found it strong.

  He reached inside her jacket, ran his hand over her chest, abdomen, and around each side.

  “Hey.” She stirred and slapped his hand away. “Get a good feel?”

  Staten put another magazine in his gun and let loose four shots.

  Luke watched Staten and then locked eyes with Wolf. “He’s … side.”

  “What?” Staten’s gunfire snuffed out her words.

  He helped her to her feet and they ducked behind the rock again.

  Staten let out a steady stream of cusswords and gunshots.

  Down the beach, Wolf watched two guns spit fire.

  “That’s Earnshaw and Nackley,” he said, hoping to stop a friendly fire incident before it began.

  “There’s two bogies between us and them,” Staten said. “We have to get off this beach.”

  Silence overtook the night, and it ramped up the electricity in the air.

  “Let’s move.” Staten took off and Wolf followed, bringing Luke by the hand once again.

  She clamped onto his coat and pulled herself close.

  “This guy is not on our side.” Her breath was hot on his ear.

  Footsteps came down the pathway and Wolf pulled her behind a copse of bushes on the other side of the trail.

  The rhythmic thumping slowed and a beam of light swung toward them.

  Wolf raised his Glock and flashlight, then pressed the button exposing their assailant.

  An Asian man raised his gun with lightning speed and began firing, but Wolf had already aimed and squeezed the trigger. Two shots hit the man’s chest and he landed on the sand.

  “Move!” Staten said from up the hill.

  Wolf and Luke needed no more goading. They got up and ran inland, up a sandy slope.

  “Did you hear me?” Luke asked under her breath.

  Wolf had, but with all the action, the words had failed to register until they were next to Staten.

  “You two go ahead,” Staten said.

  Wolf shook his head. “We’ll follow you.”

  “No, you guys go first. I’ll bring up the rear.” Staten’s barrel directed him this time.

  A blur descended on Staten, and there was a swish of fabric accompanied by a dull thud.

  Staten’s knees buckled. He fell face first onto the ground, rolled, and stopped at Wolf’s feet.

  “Geez.”

  “I told you, he’s not on our side.” She dropped a rock.

  “I … hope so.”

  “Trust me,” she said. “He’s bad.”

  Wolf checked behind them. “Take his gun.”

  More pops of gunfire from the beach rolled into the night.

  Wolf turned back. “Luke.”

  She was on her knees and collapsed next to Staten.

  “Luke!” He holstered his Glock and gripped her armpits.

  She sagged, head lolled forward.

  He wrestled her into position and put her over his shoulder. Thick raindrops hit the ground, and then the full brunt of a squall hit.

  Chapter 25

  Kristen Luke felt the heat rising.

  She writhed, trying to press her naked flesh against his warm, firm chest.

  A moan vibrated in her throat, and her lips parted, searching for something to kiss. They found an earlobe attached to a muscular neck. A familiar scent filled her nostrils, one that in times past had brought her to the doorstep of orgasm just by inhaling it.

  Passion, the intensity of which she’d not felt in years, filled her completely, and she embraced it like an old friend.

  “Luke.” The heat of his breath licked her ear.

  She sat up and put both hands to a lightly bearded face. She found his mouth with her thumbs an
d kissed him, plunging her tongue between moist lips.

  And she hit teeth.

  Her eyes flicked open and found only darkness.

  “Luke.”

  She let go of the face and retracted her arms. Her icy fingers touched her bared breasts and she sat back, landing hard on two legs.

  “What the fuck?”

  Hands gripped her shoulders.

  She slapped them both away and punched into the center of the spot she’d just been kissing.

  “Ah! It’s me, Wolf. What are you doing?”

  She twisted sideways off his lap.

  “Why am I topless?” She felt her exposed flesh. She still wore a shirt but it was rolled up to her neck. She pulled it down and found it was five sizes too big. “What the hell’s going on?”

  “We’re in Discovery Park.” Wolf snorted and sounded like he gagged on blood. “You clocked Staten in the head with a rock.”

  “Yeah, okay.” The memory came back quickly. Had she just been kissing him? “Again, why was I just pressing my tits into your chest. Is this your shirt?”

  “You passed out so I carried you up into the trees over my shoulder. It started raining, hard, and that coat Nackley gave you flipped up over your head. But I didn’t know it, so your back got soaked.

  “I found this tree that looked like a good shelter, and by the time I pulled you in here, you were shivering. You wouldn’t stop. I took off your shirt and put my dry one on you. But it didn’t seem like enough. You kept shivering so I put my coat on you, too. And then our bare skin together.”

  He sniffed and spat, and though she couldn’t see it, she could tell his nose was bleeding profusely.

  The psychotic-bitch part of her brain wondered if he was lying. “Is your nose okay?”

  “I’ll live.”

  Memories flooded in, and she realized it might be a good idea to lower her voice. “Shit, the gunfight.”

  She looked around and saw a faint line of light low to the ground. Tree branches bounced all around them, swaying in the wind outside. Mist tickled her cheeks and it sounded like rain was still falling, but little penetrated inside their shelter.

  A cell-phone screen popped on, bathing them in a subdued glow. Wolf leaned against the trunk of a dense pine whose boughs reached the ground. He wore Luke’s borrowed jacket, which hung open, revealing his bare, hair-covered chest.