by Jeff Carson
Burton nodded. “And why the second pair of boots stomping through the blood? And what about that head lamp? That spooked me when I saw that bracelet. What do you want to bet they’ll find out that was Jesse’s headlamp? Why would he just leave that sitting right there in the grass?”
“Maybe he dropped it,” Wolf said, but the answer sounded weak coming out of his own mouth.
“Well, if he did, it was mighty careless,” Burton said. “Almost to the point of reckless. And if he left that bracelet in Kyle’s hand, then that means he’s itching to get caught. Which…shit, that just might be it, I suppose. Maybe he is desperate to get caught.”
Burton stared hard at Wolf. “Will you promise me something?”
“What’s that?” Wolf asked.
“I’m going under the knife. He’s out there, all alone in jail. Scared shitless.” He shook his head. “This doesn’t look right, damn it.”
Wolf went to the window and looked out. The sun cast long shadows, deepening the wrinkles on the pale dirt hills. When he turned back, Burton’s head had lolled to the side, his eyes closed.
“Promise you what?” Wolf asked.
Burton lay motionless.
Wolf’s eyes darted to the heart monitors and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He walked up and checked his wrist for a pulse for good measure.
“You awake?”
No answer.
Wolf cycled a breath. “Yeah, old man,” he said. “I will.” He slipped out of the room and into the hallway, where he was met by a heavyset nurse.
“Did he fall asleep?” she asked.
“Yes, he did. What did you give him for pain this morning?”
“It was a mild sedative. We need him resting up.” She slipped inside the door. “And shutting up.”
“He okay?” Rachette asked as they walked towards the elevator.
“He’s fine.”
“You ready to do this or what?”
Wolf looked at his detective.
“What?”
“I’m not going back with you.”
Rachette didn’t blink. “Why not? What’s the problem?”
“I need to see this through for Burton.”
They walked down the hallway. “I heard it looks like Jesse did it,” Rachette said.
“And that’s another thing,” Wolf said. “There’s something I don’t like about those murders down in Ridgway.”
“What’s that?”
“That’s exactly what I don’t like. That it looks so much like Jesse Burton did it.”
Rachette sucked in a long breath, then nodded. “Then I’m not going back either. I’ve already told those jackals on the council what I think anyway.”
Wolf pressed the down button and the elevator doors opened.
Rachette folded his arms and leaned against the interior wall of the elevator. “You need food.”
“I do. But first things first,” Wolf said.
“What’s that?”
Wolf could hardly stand the smell of himself, the itch on his skin. “I need a shower.”
Chapter 23
Wolf stepped out of the motel room, feeling as fresh as he could get using cheap motel soap and shampoo.
“Looking like a couple dozen cents,” Rachette said. “Which is a few cents better than how you looked a couple hours ago.”
A housekeeper pushed a cart toward them, clacking over the weathered wooden boards that ran in front of the row of rooms that made up the Ridgway Motel.
“Howdy,” Rachette said.
“Thanks a lot,” Wolf said, handing over the key to the woman along with a ten-dollar bill. He’d already bribed the guy at the front, having to part with a twenty for the privilege.
She smiled gratefully and disappeared into the room.
Rachette passed Wolf a cup of coffee. “Here you go. Got it in the lobby. Was talking to the guy at the desk. He heard about Kyle Farmer’s body being pulled out of the ground last night. And I thought news traveled fast in Rocky Points.”
Wolf took sipped his coffee, checking out the view of the San Juan mountain sky line.
“I’m gonna eat this cup if I don’t get some food soon,” Rachette said. “What about that diner?”
The Ridgeway Motel was two blocks up the hill from Lucille’s Diner. Wolf figured it was about time to ingest some of that bacon he’d been smelling for the last day. He eyed his watch. It was 7:25. If they could eat fast, they’d have enough time to catch Roll and his crew at the station at eight.
They walked the two blocks, leaving their matching dark grey unmarked cruisers in the motel parking lot. Dust hung in the still morning air, kicked up off the side streets as cars rolled up to Main. An Ouray County SD SUV rolled past them, turned into the diner, and pulled into the alley behind the restaurant.
“You know that guy?” Rachette asked.
The SUV stopped and a woman got out of the passenger seat. She held a waitress apron in one hand and a purse over her shoulder.
Deputy Triplett get out of the driver’s side and met the woman in a hug, burrowing in the way a person dives into bed after a long day. She stood still, apron in one hand, the other patting his back, while Triplett wrapped his arms around her. His chin on her head, they could see his lips move, looking like he was trying to comfort her.
Wolf let his gaze drop to the sidewalk, feeling like he was intruding. “That’s a deputy named Triplett.”
“Dad, I think he’s gonna pork her,” Rachette said under his breath.
Wolf allowed himself another glance. The woman squirmed in Triplett’s arms and dropped her hand from his back, but Triplett held on, eyes closed.
They embraced another few seconds before parting. Triplett watched her leave, then looked right at Wolf and Rachette. The deputy’s eyes flashed with recognition.
Wolf raised his hand to wave, but before he’d completed the full gesture Triplett had his back turned and was rounding the back of his car. The vehicle bounced as he got in and disappeared behind the diner, the tires spitting gravel.
“O-kay,” Rachette said.
Triplett’s SUV came into view and rolled onto Main without stopping, turned downhill, and sped away.
“Pretty weird guy, you ask me.” Rachette pulled open the glass door and bells tinkled, announcing their arrival to Lucille’s Diner.
A waitress came to the hostess stand. “Two?”
“You got it,” Rachette said.
“Follow me.”
The woman they’d seen in the alley walked past, and Wolf noticed her name tag.
Jill Sobeck.
Wolf stopped and watched her walk to consult a sheet on the wall.
“Could we be seated in her section?” he asked.
Jill Sobeck saw them pointing at her and turned away, busying herself with writing something on the sheet.
“Yeah, sure.” The hostess looked confused by the request, and at a loss as to where to put them.
Jill Sobeck came over. “What’s going on?”
“These gentlemen would like to sit with you.”
She frowned. “Okay. Do I know you?”
“Sorry,” Wolf said with an amiable smile. “No. I just saw your nametag. We’re working with Deputy Sobeck, Jimmy, on the case.” He pointed at her nametag.
“Oh. Yeah. He’s my husband.”
“Oh,” Wolf said. “Well, nice to meet you.”
“You can seat them here.”
“Thanks.”
“Get you something to drink?”
They ordered coffee and orange juice and Rachette watched her leave. “Okay, what’s going on? Is she cheating on her husband with some other dude in the department? Is that what I just saw?”
Wolf said nothing. There were a thousand different explanations for what they just saw. Although Rachette’s version seemed pretty feasible.
“Pretty good-looking woman, if I must say,” Rachette said.
“How’s Charlotte doing?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
&
nbsp; They sat in silence, and Wolf replayed Triplett’s look out in the alley. Like a guy who’d been caught in the act.
“Charlotte’s good,” Rachette said. “Sleep deprived. Kids, you know?”
“Here you go.” Jill Sobeck placed two waters in front of them, then coffee cups, and filled them with the steaming liquid.
“Thanks, Jill,” Rachette said.
She nodded with an eat-shit-and-die look.
“I’ll be back with your OJ. You guys get a chance to look at the menu?”
Rachette ordered eggs and bacon. Wolf ordered two meals: eggs with bacon and eggs with sausage.
Wolf decided to bring Rachette up to speed on the case, pausing while Jill Sobeck delivered their orange juice. Rachette openly stared at her rear end as she waited on the table next to them.
“And now,” Wolf said under his breath, “I’ve just been told by Burton that the bracelet we found yesterday, placed in Kyle’s hand for all to see, was Jesse’s. It said ‘Brothers Forever’ on it. Burton gave it to his brother years ago, and his brother gave it to his son, Jesse.”
“Okay,” Rachette said, “but why would Jesse do that? Does he want to get caught?”
Wolf shook his head. “And that headlamp. Why leave it just sitting out? Odds are they’re going to find out that was Jesse’s headlamp.”
“So someone’s trying to frame him.”
“Right now it seems too clean.” Wolf sipped his water.
“Yeah, it does, I suppose,” Rachette said. “But, then again, sometimes things are exactly like they seem.”
Wolf sat back as Jill Sobeck came to the table with their orders.
“Anything else for you two?”
“No thanks, Jill,” Rachette said. “Hey, listen, Jill, was that guy you were with out there—”
Wolf kicked him under the table.
Jill looked like she noticed, and her face darkened. “What was that?” She stared at them in turn. “Why are you two sitting at my table, again?”
“Like we said, we’re just working with your husband.” Wolf took a bite of bacon.
“Who did you two say you were?”
“We’re just two detectives working with your husband,” Rachette said. “And his partner.”
For an instant her lips curled into an involuntary snarl. “What are you getting at?”
Rachette froze with a forkful of hash browns near his mouth. “Uhhh, nothing.”
She slid her gaze to Wolf, then back to Rachette. “Fuck you guys. I’ll get somebody else to finish up with you.”
“Excuse me.” A woman with gray curls and a slouched back appeared out of nowhere, an appalled look on her face. “Jill, what did you just say to that man?”
The way Jill’s face dropped told Wolf she was the owner.
“Excuse me, sir. I’m am so sorry—”
“No.” Wolf held up a hand. “We’re so sorry.” He looked at Rachette.
Rachette’s eyebrows were arched now, utensils down.
“That was…the rudest thing I’ve ever said to a woman,” Wolf said. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. What she just said to me is mild in comparison, and in fact, I deserve a punch in the nose after that. It’s just been a long, long day already. I have no right to take it out on you. I’m sorry.”
He stood and thumbed Rachette toward the door.
Rachette got up, eyeing his plate like he was leaving behind one of his children.
“Oh, well…” The elderly woman shook her head. “That’s…unfortunate.”
“How much was the check?”
Jill stared at him with a blank look, then pulled out the ticket from her bib. “It’s like, thirty, probably thirty-three after tax or something.”
“Here.” Wolf pulled his wallet. “Here’s fifty. Keep the change.”
“Oh, no. That’s too much.”
“No, it’s not. Please. Have a great rest of your day. You too, ma’am.”
They walked out the door and started back up the road.
“Crap, what just went down?” Rachette asked.
“Besides you antagonizing her? The thickness of my wallet?” There went the eighty bucks Wolf had taken out of the hospital ATM before they’d left.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I’m hungry. I can’t think straight when I’m hungry.”
Wolf eyed the grocery store across the street. His stomach ingested another portion of itself with a long creaking noise he could hear in his skull. “Let’s get some—”
“Hey!”
They stopped and turned around, and saw Jill Sobeck running up the sidewalk after them.
“What the hell was that all about?” She asked as she reached them.
“Hey, I’m sorry for being rude,” Rachette said.
She glared at Rachette, then looked up at Wolf. “If you want to talk to me about something, then spit it out.”
“I’m detective Dave Wolf, and this is Detective Rachette. We’re from up north, Rocky Points. We’re working the case with your husband. And Deputy Triplett.”
“And you saw me with him a few minutes ago.”
Wolf looked at Rachette. “Yeah. We did. And that’s none of our business.”
“He gave me a ride to work. My husband usually does, but he’s not staying with me right now, so he was doing me a favor. It’s not anything more than that, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Like I said. None of our business.”
“Well, it’s my business what people in this town think, and you’re about to go around spreading rumors. Especially if you’re working with my husband. So, just so you know, me and Deputy Triplett are not doing anything together. Got that?”
“Okay.” Wolf nodded sincerely. “I understand. We’re sorry, isn’t that right, Tom.”
“Yes, sorry.”
She put her hands on her hips and huffed a breath, looking back toward the diner. The owner was looking out the door, then ducked inside.
“Shit. Bye.” She turned to leave.
“If your husband’s not at home, where’s he staying?” Wolf asked.
She stopped and turned around. “Like you said. None of your business.” She walked away, then stopped again. “And thanks for not getting me fired. I guess.”
“I’m in love with that woman,” Rachette said.
“And your wife?”
“Her too. But there’s just something about that one. I can see why Triplett was groping her like that, then staring at her like that, then clearly fantasizing about her like that.”
Wolf raised an eyebrow and started crossing the street to the grocery store. “You’re a sucker for women who seethe with hatred toward you.”
“I love all women.”
“You said it, not me.”
Chapter 24
Wolf parked next to Rachette in the community lot by the Ridgway Marshal’s office building, still chewing the second microwaveable breakfast sandwich he’d purchased at the grocery store across from Lucille’s Diner.
He eyed the vehicles out front of the Marshal’s office, noting the absence of the CBI van.
Stepping outside, the air was cool with a slight breeze out of the west carrying the sound of children playing in the park.
Two kids were kicking a soccer ball near the back of the building with their mothers sipping coffee and looking on, oblivious to the row of disturbing photos hanging on the interior wall just a few feet away from their backs.
“What kind of reception you think we’re going to get?” Rachette asked.
“It might be a good idea if you let me do the talking.”
“Understood.”
They walked to the front door of the building, passing a man with a Ridgway police uniform talking to Deputy Sobeck.
“Can I help you?” the uniform asked as they veered up the sidewalk toward the entrance.
Both Rachette and Wolf were dressed in button up shirts and jeans, badges on belts next to their service pieces.
“That’s Detective Wolf from Rocky Poi
nts,” Sobeck said, stepping toward them.
They shook hands, and Wolf introduced Rachette.
“Could I speak to Sheriff Roll, please?” Wolf asked.
“I thought you were on your way up to Rocky Points,” Sobeck said. “What happened to the old man?”
“Heart attack.”
“Whoa. Is he okay?”
“He’s stable.”
“Glad to hear it. I heard he bit the dust pretty hard last night.”
Wolf nodded. “Sheriff Roll inside?”
“Yeah. Go ahead.”
They went inside and approached Cassandra Windell.
“Hello Detective,” she said with a tired smile. “Back again.”
“Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” Sheriff Roll stood next to the coffee machine at the back of the room. “I thought you were on your way up to Rocky Points with the old bastard.”
Wolf smiled. “I wanted to talk to you, first.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Stable. He’ll be going under the knife tomorrow morning.”
“They use a saw for that kind of work.” Roll patted his own chest. “Who’s this?”
“I’m Detective Rachette, sir.” Rachette stepped forward but Roll made no move away from the coffee maker.
“Okay.” Roll stirred some sugar into his cup and walked toward the murder room. “Come on in.”
They followed after him.
Deputy Triplett sat at one table sipping coffee and staring at his phone. He looked up and frowned at the sight of Wolf and Rachette. “What the hell’s this?”
Roll stopped and looked at his deputy. “What the hell’s what?”
“Oh. Nothing.”
“This is Detective … what was it?”
“Rachette.”
“Oh. Hey.” Triplett nodded and went back to his phone.
Roll looked between them suspiciously.
New pictures had been added to the perimeter of the pen board. Photos of Kyle Farmer’s exhumed body was on display, covered in dried blood and soil.
“CBI guys are up in Montrose overseeing the autopsy.” Roll sat at one of the tables and crossed his legs. His eyes were almost swollen shut.
“You get some sleep last night?” Wolf asked.
