by Jeff Carson
The stench of gunpowder was thick in the closed space, stinging Wolf’s eyes and obscuring the view within the cave.
He grunted, pulled his leg out from under Earl, and stood, his entire body shaking with adrenaline.
His black Carhartt pants were sliced on the right thigh. He unbuckled his belt and pulled them down for a look. The cut was a few inches long, but shallow and would clot soon.
Buck’s flashlight had tumbled next to his feet, so Wolf picked it up and clicked it on too, then propped it against Buck’s leg to point upward. He stripped the men of their weapons, tied Earl’s hands behind his back with his belt and turned to the cave, finally registering what lay inside.
An old green Colorado license plate hung on one screw from a dirty rear bumper of a 1980s Chevy Suburban. The entire thing was so caked with dust that it was almost invisible against the surrounding brown rock walls and roof of the cavern.
Wolf swept his hand on the tailgate, revealing a cream-colored paint job below, then walked along the passenger side of the truck, stopping at the rear passenger window.
Despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins, and despite half expecting it, his heart sped faster as he swept the dust off the rear window with his palm, revealing a dark-brown tuft of hair matted against the glass. It was unmistakably human.
He raked the forearm of his jacket across the window, bringing the entire head into view. Red fabric with a dark-green triangular pattern was visible below the hairline. Underneath the clothing was emaciated gray skin, sucked deep against adolescent-sized vertebrae. Wolf’s heart ached as he swept the beam forward, revealing a black-haired doll lying face down on the bone-thin pair of gray legs.
Wolf took a deep breath and moved to the front passenger window. He rubbed his sleeve again and peered in. Shining the flashlight beam inside the car revealed the wide-open mouth of what he could only assume was the Silversmith’s dead wife. Her lips were shriveled, her gums gone, making the teeth look unnaturally large. The bottom jaw hung too low for the living, and her shoulder-length hair was a wispy gray mess that looked very brittle. Around her neck hung a necklace of blue turquoise circles set in silver disks.
Wolf pushed his thumb on the door handle and pulled. The door clunked and swung open, and a thin avalanche of dirt cascaded from the roof.
He let the cloud settle, then shone the beam inside, revealing the dead body of the Silversmith in the driver’s seat. He wore a denim jacket with turquoise beaded tassels on his breast pockets. Black hair spiked out underneath a gray cowboy hat, reminding Wolf of Martin’s hat of similar design. The man’s lips sagged low, revealing the front bottom teeth, and his eyelids were sunk deep into his sockets.
Wolf pointed the light back to the woman. He took a deep breath, blocking out the faint beef-jerky smell, and leaned in. He reached down with his thumb and forefinger and lifted the dead woman’s left wrist. With the sound of tiny twigs breaking, the arm rose, almost weightless in Wolf’s grip. He twisted the back of the hand clockwise, revealing all of the fingers.
A silver ring, inlayed with a bright red-orange coral stripe, identical to the one on Wolf’s pinkie finger now, gleamed in the light.
Chapter 43
Wolf stepped out of the cave, sucked in the cool fishy air of the river, and bent over and coughed, clearing the stale oxygen from his lungs. Just then a pair of headlights came into view through the construction-site gates.
He stood tall and squinted, seeing the dark, unmistakable shape of turret lights on a Ford Explorer.
A flashlight clicked on a few yards away, and a beam lanced Wolf’s vision. “There’s your cavalry,” said a loud voice behind the light. It was Gary.
Wolf grabbed his holstered Glock.
“Drop it. Now,” Gary said.
Wolf paused a beat and tossed the Glock a few feet to the side, knowing Gary would have a gun trained on him, held by a steady hand with true aim.
The SUV rocked to a stop in the parking lot and the door opened with a squeak. The two peaks and a circle of the SCSD logo were painted on the side.
“Hi Gary,” Wolf said, watching Vickers step out of the SUV.
Gary lowered the flashlight and approached Wolf.
“Over here!” Gary yelled, waving the beam towards Vickers.
Vickers stood next to the vehicle, peering through the gates for a few moments, and then walked towards them.
“Your good man on the inside. Sergeant Vickers,” Wolf said.
Gary stepped near, revealing a black leather-gloved hand pointing a .45 revolver with a long barrel, much like the one Buck had had inside the cave. Gary’s expressionless, cleanly shaven mouth was the only visible part of his face underneath his leather hat.
He moved closer and pushed up the brim, revealing his ice-blue eyes in the moonlight. He walked to the Glock and pulled it back with his boot. Then he tucked the flashlight under his arm and bent to pick it up, all the while keeping the barrel of his revolver locked on Wolf’s chest.
“What’s going on?” Vickers was twenty yards away, approaching cautiously with his own pistol drawn.
“Look what I found.” Gary holstered his revolver and beckoned Vickers with Wolf’s Glock.
Vickers was wide-eyed, aiming his own gun at the ground in front of Wolf’s feet, walking slow and deliberate. He flicked an imploring look towards Gary.
Gary ignored Vickers, aimed the Glock at Wolf, and stepped backwards to his original position, putting them in a triangle formation.
“Gary, don’t shoot.” Vickers held up a hand. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret. We’ll take him in and do this right. I know you’re upset about Derek, but we’ve gotta do this right, sir.”
Wolf narrowed his eyes and looked at Vickers. The dynamic between the two was different than he expected. “Vickers,” Wolf said, “listen to me. Point your gun at Gary.”
Vickers looked at Wolf and then did a double take of the cave entrance. He looked over his shoulder as if noticing the piles of rubble for the first time. Then he glared at Gary and put his other hand underneath the butt of his pistol.
“What the hell is going on?”
Wolf spread his fingers. “I’ve just figured out Gary’s secret. That’s what’s going on.”
“You see, Sergeant Vickers,” Gary interjected in a loud voice, “sixteen years ago, a landslide covered this hole, along with a car.” He pointed the flashlight to the cave entrance and lowered his voice. “In that car was a family.”
Vickers furrowed his brow and looked towards the cave.
“Sergeant Wolf here just shot my men inside as they were trying to pull out the vehicle. That’s why I called you, to let you know what we found. Then Wolf here showed up.”
Wolf snorted. “Jesus, Vickers. Listen. Sixteen years ago, Gary buried this vehicle with a family he murdered inside of it. He forced them to sell him their land, then killed them to keep it secret, and buried them here. I have proof. But you need to disarm Gary now, and I’ll explain everything. Point your gun at him.”
“Don’t listen to him, son,” Gary’s voice boomed.
“Shut up! Both of you.” Vickers looked pained as he volleyed glances between them.
“Sergeant Vickers.” Gary’s voice was barely audible over the rushing river.
Vickers lifted his gun and pointed it at Gary. “What the hell were your men doing uncovering this hole?”
“Sergeant Vickers, I’m going to ask you to do something, and then I want you to do it.” Gary’s voice was smooth and confident. “Please take a look inside that hole. You’ll see that this man killed my two men in cold blood. It will all make sense soon, son. I promise you.”
Vickers inhaled fast, looking at the cave entrance, then to Gary again.
Wolf turned his palms out. “Sergeant Vickers, don’t listen to—”
“Shut up!” Vickers pointed his pistol at Wolf.
Wolf flinched as a loud explosion lit the night.
Vickers’s head jerked back, and then w
ith an involuntary muscle twitch his gun went off with a deafening blast of its own.
Wolf dropped flat to his belly as the air above his head hissed, a bullet passing just inches from his skull.
Vickers tipped backwards with both hands still clutching the smoking pistol. Then his knees buckled, and his lifeless body flopped sideways into an unnatural-looking contortion.
Gary’s gun steamed in the moonlight. His eyes were wide and he was grinning. “Holy shit!” Gary bent at the hip and scanned Wolf with mock concern. “That was close! I should have just shot him when he walked up here.”
Wolf shook his head and pushed up on his hands and knees. “What are you doing, Gary?”
Gary turned to Wolf. “What am I doing? The question is, what are you doing?” He glanced to the sky in mock thought. “Let’s see. You shot the man who took your job as sheriff, stabbed your ex-wife’s boyfriend, took out an old man in the woods, killed three of my men, and now you’ve put a bullet in the guy who was next in line for your job.” He shook his head. “You’ve gone crazy.”
Wolf’s eyes narrowed. “I only killed two of your men, Gary. That’s the first kink in your story that you’ll want to get straight. Earl’s unconscious in there, but he’ll be fine. Or, I don’t know, maybe you want to go in there and finish him off, just to get another kill under your belt.” Wolf shook his head, looking over at Vickers. “You have quite a mess on your hands. What were Buck and Earl doing just now? Towing that Suburban with the dead family in it to one of your mines? Going to bury it a mile deep? How are you going to finish that job now? By yourself?”
Gary shrugged. “Exactly. That is, after I set it up to look like you killed Vickers.” He kept the Glock aimed at Wolf, walked to Vickers, and pried the other department-issue Glock from his hand.
Gary faced Wolf and looked at the two nearly identical guns. He pointed the one in his right hand, raised an eyebrow, and then pulled it back. Then he pointed the one in his left, then lowered them both with a grin. The grin vanished as he dropped the right pistol on the ground, sending it skidding to a halt at least five yards from Wolf, and then stepped towards Wolf.
Wolf caught a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision behind Gary.
Gary stepped close. “You’re still wearing that goddamn ring. If you would have just left that ring alone,” he sighed, “you wouldn’t be taking your last breaths right now.”
Wolf snorted. “It’s not my fault you’re a low-life murderer.”
Gary sneered and raised the pistol.
“Did you kill my father, Gary? Tell me that. You owe me that much.” Wolf glared. “Or were you a coward, hiring out that piece of dirty work? Or maybe your dad did it for you?”
Gary hesitated and lowered the gun. His eyebrows peaked for an instant, and then his gaze steeled. “I’m so sorry, son. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” He raised the gun again.
“So you did,” Wolf said. “I can’t believe it.”
Gary’s hand shook and he lowered the gun a few degrees. “Your father knew too much about this, and now you do, too. I’m sorry.” Gary aimed straight at Wolf’s chest.
“Hey! Hey! Hey!” A screaming voice came from the direction of the river.
Wolf dropped and rolled to his right as four pops echoed through the canyon. Wolf finished his roll, scrambled forward, and dove for his Glock.
With as much concentration as he could muster, Wolf plucked it from the dirt and raised it up, but before he could aim, Gary landed next to him, his face bouncing off the ground. His eyes locked on Wolf’s for a brief instant, and then the light within went out, and Gary was still.
Wolf braced Gary’s arm and pried the gun out of his hand. “Took you long enough!” he yelled.
Rachette stepped away from the excavator into the moonlight. “You know me, my aim sucks. I had to get close.”
Chapter 44
“Are you kidding me?” Rachette stared at Wolf, pointing his yolk-covered fork at the cell phone pressed against his ear. “Okay. Yeah, I’m with him now.” Rachette rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. You guys have it covered? Okay, talk to you soon.”
Wolf raised an eyebrow and shoveled another bite of eggs and hash browns into his mouth. Then he surveyed the dining room of the Sunnyside Café, looking for the new girl again to get a third order of eggs and bacon started.
Rachette slapped the phone on the table, sipped his coffee, and sat back. “They found Gary’s father dead this morning.”
The new girl came to the table. “You guys doing okay?”
Rachette squinted, raised his eyebrows, and leaned forward without a smile. “I’m doing just fine,” he said in a throaty voice.
“Okay.” She nodded and stared blankly at Rachette for a beat. Then she shook her head and turned to Wolf with a smile. “And how about you?”
“I’ll take another order of bacon and eggs, thanks.”
“Jeez, that’s quite an appetite you have there.” She topped off their coffees.
He finished the rest of his plate in two bites and scooted it toward her.
“Another order coming right up.” She sang the words and swayed her slender hips towards the kitchen.
Rachette turned his head and watched her go, then turned to Wolf with raised eyebrows. “She is into you.”
Wolf stared at Rachette expectantly.
Rachette leaned forward on his elbows. “Oh, yeah. So that was Baine. They found Gary’s father this morning.”
“And?”
“Apparently he was heaped on the floor with a broken neck, his walker upside down next to him. Strangled. Gary’s fingerprints on his neck.”
Wolf shook his head and gazed out the window.
The sun flashed and dimmed behind low clouds skating across the sky above town. The window next to the booth shook with a low rumble, and outside pines bowed back and forth with bouncing limbs. A fierce wind of a fall cold front was tormenting the valley, and Wolf hoped it was decent enough weather for his brother’s funeral tomorrow, though it wasn’t looking good. Given the nature of the occasion, he guessed it really didn’t matter. It would be a shitty day any way you cut it.
Wolf thumbed the empty spot on his pinkie finger and stared out the window.
Rachette cleared his throat. “The Connells killed your father, didn’t they?”
Wolf nodded slowly. “For sixteen years I thought that ring I was wearing was a connection to my Navajo heritage, not a dead man’s matching wedding band.” He stared at the swaying trees. “The Connells must have freaked out the first time they saw me wearing it.”
“I’ve never heard the official story,” Rachette said. “How did your father die all those years ago?”
“It was unsolved. A shooting with no evidence to go on. Just a traffic stop that went horribly wrong. There were no official suspects. No knowledge of the vehicle he pulled over. Nothing. Two .22s were lodged in his head, no bullet casings found at the scene, and that’s it.
“He was shot the day after the Connells buried the car in Cave Creek Canyon. He must have been investigating that slide … maybe even found the ring there. Or who knows. The point is, he got too close. And the Connells killed him to keep their secret safe.”
“What about Burton? You think he was in on it the whole time? And that’s how he became sheriff all those years ago? By having a hand in your dad’s death?”
Wolf shook his head. “I don’t think he’s that type of man. I’ve seen him do too many good things in my day.” He took another sip of coffee. “But I’ll be checking.”
Rachette squirmed, propped his elbows on the table, and buried his face in his hands.
“What?”
“You have no clue how close I was to not coming down to the construction site. I had no idea what was going on. I was beginning to think that Young didn’t exist. I really thought you’d gone off the deep end for a while there.” He stared Wolf in the eye. “I’m sorry.”
Wolf laughed and shook his head. “You’re forgive
n.”
The waitress came with another plate and swiveled it in front of Wolf.
He sat up straight and thanked her with a smile, then watched her blush as she tucked her hair behind her ear and walked away.
“I told you,” Rachette whispered.
Wolf dug into his plate. “Drink your coffee.”
He inhaled half of the food, then set down his fork, now thinking he might have made a mistake ordering the third plate.
Rachette sat back. “So the Connells tried to buy the property from the Navajo family all those years ago. And?” He rolled his hand towards Wolf.
“Maybe they tried to buy it. Maybe they just walked into their house, put a gun to their heads and made them sign. Who knows?
“But they got the property and covered their bases, leaving a convoluted paper trail so no one would find out it was the mining company behind the purchase. And they made the price high enough that it would be believable that the family just up and disappeared. With over a million bucks, a lot of people would just up and leave to go start a new life.”
Rachette narrowed his eyes. “Then they shoot the family, and bury them into the side of the mountain?”
Wolf stared into nothing, remembering his conversation with Martin. “There was a big storm with a lot of rain that day they disappeared. The Connells shot them, then put the family in one of those caves, then set a blast, making it look like the storm set off a big landslide. The landslide was a huge deal, I remember now. It was right around my dad’s death. When he died, I had scoured the papers on the day of his death for any clues … anything about the man who’d shot him. I remember that landslide being in the papers. But the news of it had taken a back seat to my father’s death.” Wolf stared out the window.
“Why wouldn’t they put them in the mine? Get rid of the bodies there?” Rachette shook his head.
Wolf shrugged. “Not sure. There must have been some deterrent.”
“So your father had to have known the truth about that slide, and the Connells killed him because of it.”
Wolf nodded. “And that kept them in the clear for sixteen years, until the Cave Creek Canyon highway-expansion project sprang up. They knew the bodies would be uncovered, and I would be right there pulling them out—right there seeing that identical ring to the one I would be wearing on my finger.”