Drake felt his eyebrows track a bit higher as he glanced to Wyatt. Watched as color drained from his friend’s face.
Even at this early point in his legal career, Drake knew better than to ask if Tyce had done it. He knew better than to say anything at all.
Instead he waited, letting Kara get to it in due time.
“I had just started making dinner,” she said, “and a pair of detectives came by. Said they had seen our truck on a traffic camera the night before. I guess someone’s house had burned down and they asked if we had noticed anything.”
Scads of questions danced through Drake’s mind. One at a time he pushed them back. Allowed her to keep going.
“We told them the truth, which was nothing at all,” Kara whispered. “Twenty minutes later they came back and put him in handcuffs...”
Her voice trailed off at the last words. Again her face crinkled, this time the tears spilling down her cheeks. Raising both hands she hid behind the tissues a long moment, her entire body shaking with the effort.
Pushing back with his elbows, Drake leaned against the chair behind him. Again glanced over to Wyatt.
Nodded at the pad on the desk and mouthed, “Take notes.”
Wyatt bobbed his head in the affirmative. Raised the pad and turned it over to a clean page.
Three minutes went by before Kara collected herself, lowering her hands from her face. She sniffled loudly and dabbed at the moisture lining her cheeks.
Again raised the tissues to her nose.
Rising from his chair, Drake grabbed the entire box from Greg’s desk. Sat them down beside her.
“Mrs. Riggins,” he began, “I know this is hard, but I’m going to have to ask some questions. Is that alright?”
Kara drew in a deep breath. Raised her chin a few inches. Nodded.
“Okay,” Drake said. Kept his voice low, his cadence slow. “First of all, how did you end up here this evening? There are plenty of attorneys in Butte.”
A long moment passed as another tremor passed over her features. Just briefly Drake thought she might cry again, though she held it together.
“We don’t have a lot of money,” she said simply. “And Tyce knows the public defender from way back. I get the impression he doesn’t think real highly of him.”
Drake had no idea who the PD in Butte was. He glanced over to make sure Wyatt was making a note of it before moving on.
“But still, how did you end up here?” he asked.
“In college Tyce had some trouble with his landlord,” Kara said. “He had used the office and said it worked out pretty well. Told me to contact you.”
Drake nodded. He could tell there was more coming but didn’t want to press the issue.
“After they took him away, I couldn’t just sit there alone. It had only been an hour and I was already going crazy.”
She paused a moment and ran the wadded ball of tissue under each nostril. “I thought about going to my parents but decided to come here instead.”
Already several lines of thinking were coming together in Drake’s mind. Before allowing any to crystallize he took a deep breath. Pushed it out slow. Resumed his position leaning forward in the chair.
“That’s not a problem,” he said. “That’s why we’re here.”
He looked over one last time at Wyatt. Without a pen or paper of his own, he would have to rely on him to be the scribe for the conversation about to take place.
“Okay,” Drake said. “Start at the beginning and tell us everything. Doesn’t matter how long it takes, we’ll stay here as long as necessary.”
Chapter Fifteen
Lights.
Sounds.
Pandemonium.
All of it pushed out through the windows of the small building on the edge of Butte. Carried through the cold night air.
Brought a smile to Dale Garvey’s face as he walked across the parking lot. Drowned out the combined sound of he and Megan’s boots crunching across the gravel parking lot. Overcame the bitter cold engulfing them.
With his right hand he squeezed her left, giving it two quick pulses. “See, I told you people would be celebrating.”
Fifteen long hours had been spent massaging her psyche back into place. The entire day he had made small comments. Reassured her that everything was okay. That they would soon be recognized as heroes for what they did.
That he couldn’t have done it without her.
Somewhere over the course of the afternoon she had finally relented. Started to truly believe the words he was saying.
Began to exude a bit of the same enthusiasm he felt roiling beneath his skin.
At twenty-nine years old, it was high time Garvey made his mark. He was no longer a wide-eyed college student surviving on idealism and dreams. What he did in Alaska had been a start, but there he was only building on somebody else’s work.
This was his. The start of a legacy.
Picking up his pace a bit more, the smile grew larger as Garvey peered in through the front windows. Saw the entire office filled with people. Heard music in the background.
“You ready?” he asked. Looked over to Megan beside him.
On her face was the same joy he felt, the look bringing a bit of relief to his nerves.
She was on board.
“Oh, yeah,” she said. Squeezed his hand in return.
“Just remember...” he said. Didn’t bother to finish the sentence.
“I know,” she replied.
Nobody inside could know the role they had played in making the night before happen. Only that it had happened.
Megan released his hand and jogged a few steps forward. Reached the door before him and pulled it open.
Waved a hand for him to enter.
Stopping for a moment, Garvey looked at her in surprise. Offered a playful bow at her generosity.
Took two steps inside the office that had been his second home for the last three years. Stretched out almost twenty feet square, nearly every last inch of it was crammed with humanity.
There was a momentary pause as he walked inside. Was hit with the smell of beer and pizza. Saw nearly every head in the room turn his direction.
Once recognition set in an explosion of exultation rang out from the room. Extended into one long yell. Reverberated off the walls. Echoed through his ears.
Megan’s hand found the small of his back as she stepped in beside him. Stood to the side and practically beamed. Clapped along with the rest of the room.
Taking another step forward, Garvey raised a hand. Made himself appear surprised by the presence of everyone before him.
“What, did something happen?”
On cue, the group burst into laughter.
More than thirty in total, the vast majority of the room skewed far younger than he. On appearance it didn’t seem to be so, the number of beards and flannel giving the impression of a much older crowd.
Garvey knew better though. Every last person was there because they had been personally vetted by him. Just like Megan they were young and impressionable. Hungry and full of zeal.
Desperate for his approval.
As the laughter died away Garvey kept his hand raised. Took another step forward.
“What have I been telling you for years now?” he asked. Raised his voice to be heard above the fray. “Stay the course and things will work out the way we want. We have right on our side and in the end, that always wins.”
At the sound of the last three words many of the room joined in, their voices echoing his.
“That’s right,” Garvey said. Bobbed his head for emphasis. “And today proves just how right we are!”
Chapter Sixteen
Sweet tea.
Liquid gold.
Nectar of the gods.
Drake raised the plastic bottle he had brought with him to his lips. Upended it. Allowed over an inch of it to slide down.
“Little early for you to be hitting that already, isn’t it?” Ajax asked. In the early mo
rning half-light Drake could see just his profile on the opposite side of the front seat of the truck.
Per usual for this time of year, his thin frame was completely swallowed by a down coat. The trademark dreadlocks that hung from his head were covered by the thickest wool hat available.
Only a few inches of his face was visible, despite the heater blowing warm air out at them.
Drake ignored the comment. Took another drink. Stared out the windshield at the forest around them.
The combination of January in Montana and the lift still being down at Snow Plaza had left them with precious few options for the morning. Nobody wanted to venture cross country skiing again. Hiking was still a couple of months away.
Mutually the group had decided to break out the snowshoes, a venture they all agreed was much akin to vanilla ice cream.
It was never bad, but it was nobody’s favorite either.
Outside the needles on the trees were all crusted with frost. Weighted down with snow that had been there for months. Would linger another few weeks at the least. Overhead the first stray streaks of dawn broke through. Illuminated what promised to be another day of heavy cloud cover.
Just one more in the unending stretch of winter known as the Missoula Grays.
“Here they come,” Ajax said. Pulled Drake’s attention from the forest in front him. Pushed his gaze into the rearview mirror.
There a pair of headlights grew steadily closer. Sitting high and wide-spaced, Drake knew them on sight to be Kade’s.
Lifting the bottle one last time he finished half of what remained. Capped it. Placed it in the cup holder on the dash.
There was no need to worry about it getting warm while he was gone.
The frozen metal of his door groaned in protest as it swung open. Drake left it there a moment as he shoved his own ski cap down over his head. Pushed it shut.
Lifted his snowshoes out one at a time from the bed of his truck as Kade slid to a stop beside him.
Sage was the first to emerge from the truck, climbing down from the passenger seat. Like Ajax she was already bundled for the weather, a hat pressed down over her hair, orange ski goggles resting over them.
“Morning,” she said. Pulled her gloves on. Waited as her brother climbed from the opposite side, stepping onto the rear tire and into the bed of the truck.
“Gentlemen,” Kade said. Flicked a wave as he raised the cover on the chrome toolbox extended the width of the bed of his truck. “What’s shaking?”
“Momentous occasion,” Ajax said. Walked around the rear of the truck. Dropped his snowshoes onto the ground without making any effort to step into them.
“Do tell,” Sage said, unable to hide the bit of excitement in her tone.
Already Drake could imagine where this was going, his eyes rolling to the side.
“For the first time in seven years of cohabitation,” Ajax said, his voice rising a bit for effect, “our own Drake Bell was both out longer and up later than me last night.”
In the bed of the truck Kade stopped his rummaging. Turned and stood to full height. Gave Drake a leering smile.
“Now that’s what I like to hear!”
Ajax chuckled softly as Kade slammed the top down on the chrome box. Tossed his snowshoes to the ground. Attempted to hand Sage hers.
Was completely ignored.
After a few moments he got tired of waiting for her to realize he was extending her shoes. Dropped them to the ground beside his, all four landing in a heap.
“Seriously?” Sage asked. Used a toe to extract her snowshoes from the pile. “What was the occasion?”
“Seriously,” Drake said. Tried to avoid making eye contact. Knew that if he did they would see the bags under his. The red webbing extended throughout. “Had a late meeting. Things got a little crazy afterwards.”
“Late meeting? Things got crazy?” Kade said. “Those sound like excuses I would make.”
“And the man did have dinner with Emily last night,” Ajax added. No small amount of prodding in his voice.
Drake could feel blood surface along his cheeks, though still he chose to remain silent. They weren’t the first comments he’d endured on the matter.
Wouldn’t be the last.
“Aw hell,” Kade said. Ran his hands back through his hair. Shook his head from side to side. “Are you back on that train already?”
“How many times does a man have a chance to right a wrong?” Ajax asked. “Get back the one that got away?”
Both he and Kade exchanged snickers as Drake focused in on Sage. Shook his head.
“Do you think they’re done yet?”
“Are they right?” she asked. Raised her eyebrows at him.
“Not even close,” Drake said. Again shook his head.
Let them all hear the finality in his tone.
Slowly the laughter fell away, all three going silent, watching Drake.
“Alright, so what happened?” Ajax asked. “If it wasn’t Emily.”
“Or some other equally nefarious encounter,” Kade asked. Attempted to stifle a smile.
Failed miserably.
“Kara Riggins,” Drake said. Before anybody could offer any more comments he added, “Wife of Tyce Riggins.”
A trio of glances was exchanged, nobody quite sure how to proceed.
“Just to be clear,” Drake added. “The very pregnant, very happily married, very much in need of legal counsel, wife of Tyce Riggins.”
At that a bit of slow dawning settled in over the group. Sage nodded, again looking down to her snowshoes. A sour look of disappointment passed over Kade’s face.
“How is old Tyce? I haven’t heard a word from him since he stopped playing.”
“I don’t even remember a Tyce Riggins ever playing,” Sage said. Bent at the waist and began to lace up her snowshoes.
“That’s because he barely did,” Kade said.
“He was a few years older than us anyway,” Drake added.
Kade nodded. “Hell of a nice guy. Too nice. Never had the temperament for football.”
Sage pulled her laces tight and stood to full height. “You guys aren’t nice?”
“Ha!” Ajax said. Positioned his feet inside his snowshoes. Made no effort to bend down and tie them. “You didn’t have to live with these guys back then. Two most competitive damn people I ever met. Almost drove me crazy.”
At this a knowing smile crossed Sage’s face. “Okay, that sounds like them.”
“He was just happy to be there,” Drake said. For the first time looked down at his own shoes. “Liked hanging out with the guys more than anything.”
The night before was the first time in years he’d even much thought about Tyce Riggins. Truth was he hadn’t been much of a player. What he was though was even more important.
Every coach Drake had ever played for liked to talk about the proverbial glue guys. The ones that didn’t mind doing the little things.
Blocking. Playing special teams. Staying at home on assignments.
All things that occurred on the field.
What they never mentioned, but what was just as important, were glue guys off the field.
The ones that kept a locker room in harmony. Settled disputes. Stayed sober and made sure guys got home after parties.
“Looked like Tarzan, played like Jane,” Kade said. “But an all-time good guy.”
“Agreed,” Drake said.
For another moment silence fell, Ajax and Sage both staring at them with expressions bordering on surprise.
“So what’s going on?” Kade asked. “Everything okay?”
Pulling in a deep lungful of icy air, Drake ran his hands over his face. Drew in the clean scent of winter around him.
“You guys ever heard of Wes Koenig?”
Drake dropped his hands away from his face. Looked at the group.
None seemed to register any recognition.
“Apparently he was a big businessman over in Seattle. Made a bundle in real estate de
velopment.”
“Yeah,” Ajax said. Nodded. Extended a finger to Drake. “Didn’t he swindle a bunch of people out of some land? Bernie Madoff level scam?”
“Among other things,” Drake said. “Real nasty guy. Anyway, I guess a while back he built a house over outside of Butte.”
Kade snorted in derision. “What the hell for?”
“Good question,” Drake conceded. “I was up most of the night digging around. Couldn’t find much on that part of it.”
Nearby a frozen tree branch detached itself from a trunk. Crashed to the ground. Drew all four stares at it for a long moment.
“Okay,” Sage said. “This creep built a house in Butte...”
“Yeah,” Drake said. Pulled himself back to face forward. “And Monday night somebody burned it to the ground.”
“Was Koenig inside?” Ajax asked.
“No,” Drake said. “Right now they’re just calling it arson, but believe me, that’s serious enough.”
“And they think Tyce did it?” Kade asked. No small amount of disbelief in his voice.
Drake focused on Kade. Gave him a grim nod.
“They arrested him yesterday. His wife drove over last night to see us.”
A low shrill whistle from Ajax was the only sound, the air having been sucked out of the parking lot.
“So what are you going to do?” Sage asked. Her voice just barely audible.
“He’s going to help him,” Kade said. Not a shred of doubt in his voice. “Once a Griz...”
Chapter Seventeen
Loud.
Distinctive.
The sound of a car door slamming shut. The tang of metal smacking against metal.
Waylon Sharp hadn’t expected anybody else to be on the grounds. Out since just minutes after sunrise, he’d believed he would be the only one present.
Could take the samples he needed. Get a strong feel for what happened.
Be gone before the sun was directly overheard.
That hope was shattered by the sound of the car door. The unmistakable din of footsteps growing closer.
The morning before he had been unequivocal with Taggert. He would take a full look at the grounds. Determine exactly what had happened. Scrape some residue samples to ascertain what accelerant was used.
The Glue Guy: The Zoo Crew Series Book 4 Page 6
