Divided Sky

by Jeff Carson

Wolf felt suddenly hot. He took off his jacked and draped it over the back of his chair. “Now that the small talk’s done, how about we get this over with.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” MacLean said.

  Rachette cleared his throat. “If I could just say something first, sir?”

  MacLean looked at him. “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “I just want to say that I’ve not approved of the way you and the council have gone about dealing with the situation at hand. All this subterfuge, this, behind the back.” He looked at Wolf. “Sir. I just want you to know that you’ve always been the best boss I’ve ever had, and that’s what I told the council members who interviewed me. I just…no matter what happens, I want you to know that.”

  Patterson and Yates said nothing. Patterson kept her eyes down. Not that Wolf felt he was owed anything by her, but it caught his attention.

  “Thanks,” Wolf said.

  MacLean looked bored. “You guys done?”

  All eyes moved back to MacLean.

  “Good. So, I’m sick. Pancreatic cancer, stage three. And the doctors have told me it’s most likely terminal.”

  Wolf blinked. He uncrossed his legs and sat forward.

  “We’ve been scrambling with the news behind the scenes ever since I got the diagnosis. Personally, I’m not taking this laying down. They’ve given me shit odds, basically told me to sit back and die, so I’ve said screw them and I’ve decided to treat the cancer with alternative methods, which means I’ll be leaving the country ASAP. Or, as soon as I figure out who’s going to succeed me in office. The way I see it, Patterson is the most qualified to do your job, Wolf. No offense meant to Detective Rachette and Yates, but you guys couldn’t organize your way out of a paper bag.”

  “No offense taken, sir,” Rachette said.

  They laughed.

  MacLean stood and stared out the window with his back turned.

  They sat in silence, waiting.

  Wolf looked at Patterson and saw she was staring at him intently, her eyes liquid and full of sorrow.

  When MacLean finally turned around, his own eyes shimmered. “I had to tell everyone at the meeting yesterday, even without you two there. I apologize, but, like Detective Rachette pointed out, the subterfuge was getting to be too much. Undersheriff Wilson, perhaps you could explain to Wolf what you’re thinking.”

  Wilson looked at Wolf. “Sir. Dave. I took this job as undersheriff when you refused. I wouldn’t have taken the job, no offense, Sheriff MacLean, if Dave hadn’t encouraged me to do so.”

  “No offense taken, sir,” MacLean said, mimicking Rachette’s tone.

  They paused, letting the moment pass. This time, they all held their somber expressions.

  “We need somebody to step in as interim sheriff,” Wilson said. “And we want you to do the job.”

  Wilson opened a folder he’d been carrying on his lap. He spoke quickly, as if to cut Wolf off before he could speak. “MacLean and I gave our recommendation to the council, and they wanted confirmation that the rest of the department would be on board.”

  Wilson picked up the papers and flipped through them, keeping a hard grip on the stack.

  “Every single person they asked in this department, from the receptionist downstairs to the squad members down in that room, to the detectives in this room.”

  “And the sheriff,” MacLean said.

  “And the sheriff. Everyone thinks that you’re the most qualified for this job. That’s what the council meeting was about this week. They wanted the data before they made the official nomination, and, of course, with your recent history they wanted to cover all their bases.” Wilson shook the papers in his hand, then set them back in the folder. “The nomination became official yesterday. So what do you think?”

  Wolf raised his eyebrows. “I think you’re much more qualified for the job.”

  Wilson shook his head. “No. I’m not, Dave. You are. The people of this department look up to you, not me.”

  “If the council would have interviewed everyone about you, I’m sure the answers would have been unanimously the same,” Wolf said.

  Wilson took a breath and leaned back. “The alternatives are we bring in an outsider to run the department as interim Sheriff. Or I step up and take the job, and we bring in an outsider to take my position as undersheriff, effectively grooming the outsider for the Sheriff job when it becomes available in two years.”

  “What about you?” Wolf asked. “You could be the sheriff in two years.”

  Wilson sucked in a breath. “Dave. You’re better for the job. I don’t want it knowing you’re right there on the bench. It’s like, you know, if a quarterback gets hurt, and the second-string guy gets passed over for the third string guy. Only, the second-string guy should have been in the game the whole time to begin with! No offense, sheriff.”

  MacLean frowned at the back of Wilson’s head.

  “Dave,” Wilson continued. “We need you. We need you in the game.”

  Wolf looked at Patterson. She looked like she was holding her breath. “Okay,” he said.

  Wilson froze with his hands outstretched. “Okay?”

  “Yeah. Okay. I’ll do it. As long as you promise to ride out the term with me.”

  “Of course. Yeah.”

  Wolf looked at MacLean. “So that’s that?”

  MacLean nodded. “That’s that.”

  The others sat in stunned looking silence.

  Patterson stood up and walked to Wolf. She bent over and embraced him in an awkward hug. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “For not telling you about the interviews.”

  Wolf stood up. “I’m not worried about it. You shouldn’t be.”

  “Congratulations, sir,” Rachette said, shaking his hand.

  “On what?” He chuckled, eyeing MacLean. “The way I see it, I just got demoted to the bottom.”

  MacLean’s somber expression evaporated, and he smiled that way he had been lately—and now Wolf saw it for what it was—like a man who’d come face to face with his mortality and had completely accepted it.

  Wolf stepped to the man and embraced him.

  Reluctantly, MacLean raised his arms and hugged him back. After a few seconds he slapped Wolf on the shoulder blades and pushed him away. “Okay, enough. I’m not gonna start crying again. I’m done with that.”

  The others crowded the sheriff.

  “Get back. Everyone back.”

  Patterson ignored him and dove in for a hug. Yates, Rachette, and Wilson piled on, and when the huddle broke, MacLean’s cheeks were streaked with tears. “Thanks people. Thank you.”

  Wolf broke the silence. “When is my interim position official?”

  “Right now. I’ve cleared out my office. Patterson’s ready to move in here. I’ll help you get on your feet in the next couple days, but I’m leaving this weekend.” He shrugged. “Sorry for the trial by fire, but I have to go.”

  “I understand, sir. And I wish you luck.”

  “I don’t need luck. I’m gonna kick this disease’s ass. You watch.”

  Wolf nodded. “I can’t wait to see that, sir. Okay, since this is official—”

  “Actually,” MacLean held up a finger, “You have to accept the Council’s nomination. Margaret will get in touch with you on that. They’ll swear you in, and then it’s official.”

  “Right. Well, we’ll pretend it’s now, and as my first official order of business I’d like to require everyone to attend a barbecue at my house.”

  “Hells yeah,” Rachette said. “Party time.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Yates said. “We need to blow off some steam after all this. It was getting pretty tense in here.”

  “When?” Patterson asked.

  “Tonight.”

  She made a pained face. “Your detectives are on duty until ten P.M. on Wednesdays. You know that, right?”

  He looked down his nose at her. “Right. Okay, fine, tomorrow. Or Friday.”


  “Saturday would be better. There’s the smooth jazz festival at the base village Friday night. We’ll be stretched as it is. And then we have the rest of the weekend off. If you have it any other night, nobody will show up.”

  He sucked in a breath. “Saturday it is.”

  “Good choice. And besides, this way you have proper time to invite everyone.”

  “Yes, all good points. Thank you, Chief Detective.”

  “And then you’ll have time to prepare. You know, something better than a bring your own booze get together.”

  “Are you done yet?” Rachette asked. “And she’s wrong. You can have it whenever you want.”

  They looked at Wolf.

  MacLean held up his hands and walked between them. “Aaand I’m out of here.”

  “Wait a minute,” Wolf said. “Are you still here Saturday?”

  MacLean nodded. “I’m leaving Sunday morning.”

  “Can you make it?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “All right, then Saturday it is.”

  “See you guys then,” MacLean said. “I’m going home.” He left the room.

  Wolf looked at his squad—Patterson’s squad, he corrected himself. “And I’m heading down to County to see Burton.”

  “I would come along,” Rachette said, “but I’m sure Burton would rather see syphilis.”

  “You’re probably right,” Wolf said.

  “Hey, that’s not nice.” Rachette made a pained face, then dropped it. “The guy never liked me. I’m not sure how I even got hired by him in the first place.”

  “There was probably very little competition?” Patterson asked. “Maybe nobody else had applied?”

  “Ha. Shut up.” Rachette’s face went serious. “What are they doing with Jesse down there in Ridgway?”

  Wolf shrugged. “They’re putting twenty-four-seven surveillance on him. But … he’s a free man.”

  Yates and Patterson looked at each other.

  “And that’s bad?” Patterson asked.

  “The whole thing’s still up in the air,” Rachette said. “It’s a mess of a case. Glad it’s not ours.”

  Wolf picked his jacket off the plastic chair. Something shiny fell from the inside pocket as he slipped his arm in.

  Rachette bent over and picked it up. “Gum.”

  When Wolf reached out for it, Rachette pulled it back and sniffed it. “Mmmm, Juicy Fruit. Can I have a piece?”

  “Please,” Yates said. “Your breath’s like a dog took—”

  “Boys, please,” Patterson said. “How about you get out of my office.”

  Wolf stared at the piece of gum as Rachette unwrapped it and put it in his mouth. And then realization slapped his mind into gear. “Wait, no!”

  Rachette spit it out. It bounced off Patterson’s leg before it hit the ground. “What? What!”

  “I took some pieces of gum off of Jesse when we picked him up in Canyon of the Ancients. I must have missed pulling one out of my pocket when I handed them over to Roll.”

  “Okay. So…you want to return it to him?”

  Wolf pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photographs from Sobeck’s garage.

  “What is it?”

  He dialed Sheriff Roll’s number and walked to the window, the phone pressed to his ear.

  “Roll here,” the sheriff answered.

  “It’s Wolf.”

  “Yeah. How’s it going?”

  “I need to talk to you. About Jesse.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Where is he?”

  “We just pulled into the parking lot of Sluice-Byron County Hospital.”

  “He’s with you right now?”

  “I’m escorting him to visit his uncle.” The sheriff grunted and wind hit his microphone, like he’d just climbed out of his car. “We’re headed inside now.”

  “Keep a close eye on him.”

  “That’s the plan. Why? What’s going on?”

  “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” Wolf hung up.

  Chapter 39

  Wolf knocked on Burton’s hospital room door and pushed it open without waiting for a response.

  Inside, Jesse stood off one side of Burton’s bed. He watched Wolf come in and nodded.

  Roll stood a few paces behind Jesse. The sheriff nodded, turning slightly to show that his hand rested on his gun.

  “Wolf,” Burton said, a wan smile stretching his lips. “What’s my sergeant deputy doing here?”

  Wolf smiled at the reference to the last rank Wolf had held under Burton’s command. The drugged look on Burton’s face made it hard to know if the man was kidding or if he really had no concept of when or where he was.

  “How’s he doing?” Wolf asked Jesse.

  Jesse’s electric orange hair was slicked back, stuck to his head. He wore ripped jeans and a long-sleeved motocross jersey with the number six-six-six on the back.

  “I’m doing fine,” Burton said. But his face twisted in pain, and he pulled a pillow onto his chest, hugged it tightly with both hands, and coughed with his eyes clamped shut.

  Wolf winced as he watched Burton’s body constrict in agony.

  When he had finished expelling his lungs, Burton released the pillow and let his arms flop to his sides. “Just fine. Just had a doctor saw open my chest, and now there’s a tickle in there that won’t go away so I keep coughing every two minutes. I’m still hung over, I want a drink, and I’m pretty sure the worst is yet to come on that front. But…” he put up a finger and nodded contentedly, “but … I am taking some pretty strong pain pills. So that is good.”

  Wolf nodded. “How’s Hettie?”

  Jesse nodded. “She’s okay. Still sleeping. But she’ll fully recover.”

  “Good to hear. What do you think she’ll tell us when she wakes up?”

  Jesse raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “I remember that day we went down to get you down in Canyon of the Ancients. You were despondent. I didn’t know you, but to me it looked like you’d given up on life.”

  Jesse straightened. “I was pretty depressed about the situation, I guess.”

  Wolf nodded. “Until we got you into the car, and we told you that Hettie said you two were together the night of the murders.”

  Jesse made a sour face. “What are you talking about?”

  “Once we told you Hettie said she was with you all Friday night, I remember looking at you in the mirror, you perked right up. Now I know why. Because it was a surprise. Because you suddenly had an alibi, from the one person you were sure was going to give you up to the cops.”

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about right now.” Jesse shook his head as if he felt sorry for Wolf.

  Burton wrapped his arms around the pillow and coughed again, his eyes locked on Jesse.

  The machines next to Burton beeped, and a long sheet of paper rolled out.

  There was a knock on the door, and then a nurse entered. “Excuse me,” she said, putting two hands on Jesse’s shoulders as she pushed past him. “I just have to get this. Are you finished with your lunch, Mr. Burton? Would you like me to take your plate?”

  “No, darling. I’m still working on my Jello.”

  She snapped off the piece of paper and read it. “Looking good. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.” The air swirled with the scent of flowers as she left the room, the door closing behind her.

  “You got into an argument with Hettie on the way home from the bar, right?” Wolf said.

  Jesse stared into nothing.

  “She was upset with you for confessing everything to Kyle. That’s what she told us when we talked to her. She had put off telling Kyle for months. In fact, she probably would have kept the secret going had it not been for you. But like you said, you were sick of hiding the truth. And you fought for her. And you got beat up for her. It’s never fun getting whooped by another man. But to make things worse, she was mad at you for what you did.” />
  Jesse barely shook his head.

  “I think I’m right,” Wolf said. “She told us you two got into an argument and you dropped her off at home. And when you did that, you were devastated, weren’t you? You were bleeding, you were broken. I can only imagine how hard that must have been. That kind of thing will make your blood boil. You were rejected.”

  Jesse shook his head harder now.

  “Just like your father did to you all over again, right?”

  Jesse’s head swiveled smoothly over to Wolf. His eyes were like a cat’s just before pouncing.

  “You had a .45 in your Jeep, under the seat. You always have a gun there, right? Registered or not. Like you did that night you were pulled over by Sobeck and Triplett. You were enraged, and in the heat of the moment, all you could think about was lashing out. Lashing out at Kyle, who, even after you fessed up to him and got your clock cleaned, was still standing in between you and Hettie.”

  “No,” Jesse said.

  Wolf continued. “You went up there, knocked on the door, and you shot him twice. Dead. And then what? You weren’t done. You decided you were going to avenge Hettie’s father, right?”

  “No,” Jesse said. “I didn’t do any of this. It was Sobeck. He was trying to make it look like I did it.”

  Wolf nodded. “That’s why you called us up to jail in Montrose, so we’d start thinking it might be Sobeck. My detective and I went to his house. We found a pair of boots in his garage. They had blood on the soles, and mud from where Kyle was buried.”

  “See?” Jesse said. “He did it.”

  “No, Jesse. You did it. You shot Kyle, and then you got the fifty-caliber from the shed, went down to Alexander Guild’s and shot him. And then you came back. And then you pinned it on Sobeck. He lives right there next to you, as you painfully know. You two have a history, right? Back in that interrogation room you said Triplett and Sobeck were always hassling you and Kyle, but you meant Sobeck was harassing you, right? He’s the one hard on you. The way he came over and roughed you up for shooting guns at all hours. Then there was that time you three were out joyriding, when he pulled you over. He put you right into the dirt in front of Hettie.”

  Jesse lowered his eyes. Shook his head again.

  “Must have been humiliating.”