Edge of Darkness

by Barker, Freya

  My conversation with Agent Greene had been brief. Just enough for him to explain the investigation was running hot and everyone on his team was tied up. He’d be calling the marshal’s office in Telluride to see if they could spare an officer to keep an eye on the location for backup and wanted to make sure I was aware of that. He also reminded me to be cautious, and use my phone to record any conversation with the woman, just in case.

  Nosh just nodded when I told him I had to go and I tore out of there in a hurry. My GPS told me it’s over two hours to get to Telluride, which didn’t leave me much wiggle room.

  So far the drive has been uneventful, but it’s not one I’d want to try once the snow season hits. At least not on a timeline.

  I left Dolores behind me a while ago, and it’s a good thing this road will take me straight to where I need to go, because cell phone reception has been almost nonexistent the last half hour or so.

  With the radio tuned to an oldies station and taking in the beautiful scenery around me, it’s not a bad drive, if not for the sense of urgency I feel to get there in time.

  Tammy had sounded jumpy on the phone and I’m afraid if I don’t get there by four thirty, she’ll bail on me, and I really want to get my hands on Dani’s things.

  With just a few minutes to spare, I finally pull into a strip mall on the side of the road. Cafee is the small sandwich shop in the end unit, closest to the road. I note the patrol car parked at the opposite end of the parking lot, which makes me feel a little better.

  I peg Tammy the moment I walk in the door and not just because of the shoebox she’s clenching on the table in front of her. Her eyes shot up the moment I opened the door. A brunette like me, I’m guessing her age to be close to mine, although she looks well-worn. Part of that may be the stress visible in the tight line of her mouth and the frown between her eyebrows. Her eyes seem to flit around as I approach the table.

  “Tammy?”

  “Yes.” Even as she answers she darts a glance behind me.

  I slide into the booth across from her and immediately a waitress appears at the table.

  “Can I get you something?”

  “I’d love a coffee. What about you, Tammy?” I ask, noticing the empty water glass on the table in front of her.

  “Yes, coffee is fine,” she tells the waitress but she keeps her attention on me. When the woman walks away she shoves the box across the table at me. “This is it. All of it.”

  “I really appreciate this.” I take the box and set it on the seat beside me. I’d love to examine what’s inside, but that can wait until later. First I want to see what information Tammy might have, before she spooks and hightails it out of here.

  “She gave it to me. Asked me to keep it safe but she never came back.”

  “When was this?”

  Her eyes do a quick scan of the place again before she answers.

  “January. It was the last time I seen her.”

  “Do you know why she wanted you to keep it for her?”

  She seems to be waging an internal struggle when the waitress walks up with two mugs of coffee and a handful of creamers.

  “Do you?” I prompt her when we’ve doctored our coffees.

  “She was scared. Asking a lot of questions after her old man—Chains—got himself killed. I always knew there was something wrong with her, but she never told me what until she gave me that box.”

  “What was it?” I nudge her again when she falls silent.

  She leans forward with her elbows on the table and looks at me intently.

  “Dani tried to leave him once—Chains—when Jesse had just turned two.”

  “Jesse?” My heart is pounding so hard I’m afraid she can hear it across the table.

  “Their baby boy. She was gonna take him and make her way back to New Mexico she said. I guess Chains found out and went after her. She was gone for three days and when she came back, the baby was gone. In all the years after that she was like the walking dead. Never smiled, rarely spoke, and never shared what happened to the baby. Not until Chains got killed.”

  “And no one did anything? No one asked?” I hear the accusation in my voice and see her flinch.

  “No one dared cross Chains. The man was ruthless. When she gave me the box she said someone was after her. She made me swear not to ask questions or I’d be in trouble too.”

  “She didn’t say who was after her or why?” I probe.

  Tammy shakes her head. “I just took it and hid it under my bed. I was too afraid to look inside.”

  I look over at the box and notice the lid is taped down.

  “You don’t know what’s inside?”

  She shakes her head again. “I just wanna get rid of it.” Then she looks at me with tears filling her eyes. “Dani’s not coming back, is she?”

  I’m about to break the news to her when Tammy’s eyes go wide, and she suddenly gets out of the booth and starts running for the exit. I don’t think and take off after her as she runs to a small silver two-door vehicle.

  “Wait!” I yell, but she’s already got her keys out and is reaching for the door.

  Time slows down when I see her body jerk and a fraction after that I hear the report of a gunshot. She jerks again. Another shot, and I’m still moving toward her when she crumples to the pavement. I stop and reach for my gun, turning in the direction of the road where I heard the shots coming from, but I never quite get my hand on it before I’m spun around and knocked to the ground.

  Yuma

  “I’m coming with you.”

  I turn around at my father’s rusty voice.

  “Go inside.”

  “Like hell. I’m coming.”

  “Let’s go,” Ouray calls out, clicking the locks on his Traverse. He said he was driving and I’m not about to argue.

  There’d been a shooting up in Telluride. An officer was found dead beside his patrol car and two women had been rushed to the hospital. According to Luna, Lissie had gone up to Telluride to get some of Dani’s stuff from a friend of hers. They hadn’t been able to confirm yet, but the assumption was Lissie is one of the victims.

  “Luna called from the car. She’s on her way up to Telluride,” Ouray mentions as he heads toward Durango.

  “Why was she up there alone?” My voice sounds as rusty as my father’s.

  He glances sideways at me before his eyes focus on the road again.

  “Brother, I don’t know. I didn’t get all the details. All I know is they picked up one of Red Franklin’s plants, Marty Spengler, and since he started talking, they’ve been scrambling to keep all the pieces in place. Your woman is a cop. A detective. She’s not helpless.”

  I don’t give a flying fuck if she’s a certified ninja warrior; she bleeds all the same.

  Nosh’s heavy hand lands on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze before letting go. The comforting gesture so alien coming from my father, I almost lose it. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give for a shot of something, anything, to dull the fear eating me from the inside out.

  We’ve just left Dolores behind when Ouray’s phone rings. He answers it on hands-free.

  “You’re on speaker, Sprite,” he warns his wife.

  “Good. I don’t have an update on the condition of the victims at this time, but both are being flown into Mercy. I have confirmation one of them was Lissie.”

  I’m not sure if I was still hoping maybe it wasn’t her, but hearing that has the bottom fall from my stomach.

  Telluride has a medical center, but it’s not really equipped for major trauma. Those patients are usually helicoptered to Mercy here in Durango, which is a Level III Trauma Center.

  Ouray is already turning the truck around, back to Durango.

  “They were able to identify her from her driver’s license.” Luna is still talking. “According to a witness, it was over in seconds. The officer was there for backup, but it looks like he barely had a chance to get out of his cruiser. Two shots for the first victim, but the shooter dropped
the second woman and the cop with single shots, all in quick succession. The waitress had a good description of the truck the shots seemed to originate from. It was idling along the side of the road and she was pretty sure there was only one person in the vehicle. Unfortunately it was found a few miles out of town, the shell casings still in the truck but no sign of the shooter.”

  “Sounds like he was a good shot,” Ouray observes.

  “Clearly. Anyway, I’m about twenty minutes south of town. Wish I didn’t have to continue to Telluride, but law enforcement is waiting for me on the scene, so I have to check in there. I’ll let you know if I hear any more.”

  “Okay, be careful.”

  “I will. Yuma?”

  “I’m here.”

  “She’s tough. Haven’t known Lissie long, but she’s made of stern stuff. Hang in there.”

  Ouray ends the call and Nosh taps me on the shoulder. I twist in my seat.

  “Lissie is being flow to Mercy hospital. We’re heading back.”

  He nods and turns his gaze out the window. It occurs to me I’m not the only one for whom this scenario is eerily similar to last summer when Momma was shot. Momma survived, but was never the same.

  I reach over the seat and tap his knee to get his attention.

  “She’ll be okay. She has to be.”

  He nods, but I see him swallowing hard as he turns back to the dark mountains.

  We drive the return trip in silence, until we finally pull into the all-too-familiar parking lot at Mercy. Ouray pulls up outside the emergency department and tells us to go ahead, he’ll find us.

  We walk straight up to the desk.

  “My girlfriend was just flown here from Telluride. She was shot. Where can we find her?”

  She averts her eyes. “I’m going to have to ask you to take a seat in the waiting room. We had two patients arrive at the same time and staff is working as hard as they can. As soon as we know something more, we’ll come find you.”

  “I just wanna know how she is,” I insist.

  “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’ll see if I can find something out for you.”

  I’m about to start arguing when Nosh grabs my arm and pulls me to the waiting area. Shortly after, Ouray comes walking in and sits down across from us without saying anything.

  Ten minutes later, I’m up and pacing back and forth, my father following my every move, when Joe Benedetti comes stalking in. He spots us and comes straight over.

  “Any news?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Give me a few minutes.”

  He heads for the same nurse I talked to and I guess being the chief of police counts for something, because after an intense exchange she disappears through the doors behind her. Five minutes later she reappears, a doctor in her wake who starts talking to Joe, but he points the man our way.

  “Elizabeth Bucco’s family?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me apologize for the confusion first. Two gunshot victims were brought in, both ended up in surgery within minutes of arriving, with much different results. Ms. Bucco is still in the OR. She received a gunshot wound to the upper chest, right under the clavicle, but the bullet ricocheted off her scapula. The surgeon is removing some fragments that could become a problem in the future. No major organs were hit and Ms. Bucco was very lucky. Unfortunately, the other victim wasn’t so lucky. Margaret…” He indicates the nurse at the desk. “…had heard one of the patients had expired in the OR, but wasn’t sure which one, which is why you were asked to wait. As soon as Ms. Bucco is out of surgery, we will let you know.”

  I sink down on the chair beside my father, and drop my face in my hands as soon as the doctor retreats to the ER. My body suddenly feels like Jell-O when all the tension releases at once.

  “I’ve gotta make some calls,” Benedetti announces. “How about I pick up some coffees on my way back?”

  “I’ll come give you a hand,” Ouray announces.

  I hear them walk away, when suddenly my father’s hand grabs me by the neck and pulls my head to his shoulder, wrapping his other arm around me.

  Unable, and even unwilling to hold back, I let it all out—relief, fear, grief, old pain—a lifetime of bottled-up emotions spill over, and my father holds me the entire time.

  Lissie

  “Love you.”

  My eyes, blinking just seconds ago, shoot wide open.

  The bright light blinding, I go straight back to blinking, but zoom in on the shadowed face looming over mine.

  “W-what?” I stammer, sure I must’ve been dreaming.

  “You heard me.” His voice, deep and rich, holds a hint of humor.

  Slowly his features come into focus. His heavy eyebrows frowning over those crystal clear blue eyes, the firm nose with a prominent bump where I’m sure it’s been broken before, and those lush lips peeking from behind his beard.

  “I heard you,” I admit, only now feeling the deep throbbing ache in my left shoulder.

  “Good,” he whispers, brushing his lips gently over mine. “Was scared I wouldn’t get the chance, baby.”

  My heart melts at the emotion behind his words. I lift my right hand to cup his face, stroking my thumb over his cheek.

  “I’m sorry I scared you, honey.”

  He closes his eyes and presses his face in my palm when a knock sounds at the door.

  “Shit, I forgot. My dad’s been waiting outside.”

  “Let him in.”

  He presses another sweet kiss on my mouth before he straightens up and goes to the door, opening it. Nosh barely acknowledges him but walks right over to me.

  “Give an old man a heart attack,” he says in his monotone voice, but the missing emotion is visible in his eyes.

  I look at Yuma behind him. “How do I say sorry in sign language?” He shows me and I turn back to Nosh, rubbing a fist over my sternum, mouthing ‘sorry.’

  He signs something and Yuma translates. “He wants to know how you’re feeling.”

  “Sore, a little more damaged than I was before, but I’ll be fine.”

  “Good,” the old man says before his hands start moving again and Yuma bursts out laughing.

  “What?’

  “He says you should use your recovery wisely and learn ASL already.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Lissie

  “HOW ARE YOU feeling?”

  I step aside to let Ramirez in.

  Yuma brought me home this morning before leaving to deal with the ongoing plumbing issues.

  I’d been lucky, the surgeon was able to clean out the bullet fragments, and all I was left with was some soft tissue damage that would heal over time. My left arm is immobilized with a sling, strapped around my chest for now, but I’m right-handed so I can still manage pretty well.

  Tammy hadn’t been so lucky. She didn’t make it and apparently neither did the young officer who’d been assigned to keep an eye out. That’s all I know. I’ve been out of the loop, and other than Joe Benedetti sticking his head in the door, I haven’t seen anyone who could get me up to speed.

  Until Tony knocked on my door.

  “Not too bad. You want coffee?”

  “Sure. Don’t have a whole lotta time, though.” He follows me into the kitchen. “You know, you really should invest in some more furniture.”

  “So I’m told.” I get coffee going before turning back to Tony. “Come on. Tell me what’s been going on, I feel like I’ve missed this whole case being unraveled.”

  “Not quite unraveled yet, there are still a few missing pieces.”

  “You got Spengler, I know that much,” I prompt him.

  “Technically the FBI got him, but yes, and he had lots to tell once the FBI assured him they’d keep him safe. He finally admitted John Woodard himself supervised the pour of the foundation for the community center. That foreman we’ve spent money and resources on finding was nothing but a red herring.”

  “You’re kidding me? The mayor’s cousin?”

 
“None other. Gomez picked him up at the Pro Concrete office, armed with search warrants for his home and business. The mayor went apoplectic when he found out. Now that was a thing of beauty. He stormed into Joe’s office, throwing his weight around, and Joe just shrugged his shoulders, claiming his hands were tied since the FBI had jurisdiction over the case.”

  “You’d think our mayor had some inside knowledge,” I observe.

  “You have no idea how true that may well be. Not sure if anything will stick legally, but I can guarantee his reputation is gonna be shot to hell. At first, John wasn’t talking, but as bits and pieces of information started coming in from the searches at his house and the office, he could see the writing on the wall.”

  The coffeemaker beeps to indicate the brew is ready and I quickly pour us a cup, before focusing my full attention back on Tony.

  “So what made him talk?”

  “Hunting trophies. His home office has several mounts—elk, bear, and even a mountain lion—hanging on the walls. Stuck behind each mount was a dated Polaroid of the fresh kill, always with the same three hunters: John’s father, Theo, former Utah senate member, James Hinckle, and none other than Victor Nowak. Apparently the three were tight and had been for quite a few years. Was hard for him to deny knowing those two after that. Combined with Spengler’s testimony, he knew he was in a tight spot.”

  “No wonder the mayor was peeved.”

  “Understatement of the year,” Tony snickers. “John claimed Nowak came to him shortly after he sold the land to Arches Homes. He said the media mogul was livid. There’d been a long-standing arrangement around the land that could leave Nowak, Hinckle and the Woodard family in hot water if discovered.”

  “The bodies?”

  “Got it in one. Wasn’t all though, Hinkle also liked to bring his boys out there for field training.”

  “Boys? You mean those kids?”

  He nods. It makes me sick to think of what those poor boys had gone through. I’d seen the two kids who live with the Arrow’s Edge a couple of times, and they just look like little boys to me. Field training? I shudder to think what that looked like.