by Jeff Carson
Klammer’s lip curled in a self-satisfied smile. This rich man liked to stay back in the shadows and watch his hired muscle work. He looked like he was sitting front row at the arena watching his prized fighter.
“Like I was saying.” Prock leaned forward.
Prock was an imposing man, Ash had to give him that. His thick, fur-lined jacket was unzipped, making him look hugely thick, taking up more than half of the booth across the table. But Ash knew it wasn’t the coat creating an illusion, the man was chiseled like a sculpture of Zeus underneath. Ash had marveled at the man’s figure when they met Thursday night. Had to be two hundred twenty-five pounds of solid muscle.
And if the man’s muscles weren’t sphincter-clenching enough, then his eyes would do the trick. They were the color of dead grass, and the whites in his eyes where like milk, at times giving the illusion he only had tiny obsidian circles inside those eyeballs. He used them well at the moment, as if he was staring into the fear-center of Ash’s brain.
“We want that contract,” Prock said. “And we have paid you to get the votes.”
“Why are you spelling this out for me? You think—“
“It is obvious those votes we are paying you for are not there. The Hitchens woman had her nose up Irwin’s ass all last night at the party, and Mayor Wakefield is clear about his intention to vote for Irwin as well. Another thing that is clear is that nobody likes you.”
Prock stared, letting his last jab sink in.
“Listen—“
“How you became chairman of this county council is mind boggling. Despite your position, your influence is none. Laughable. So, you can see why we are confused as to why you are even calling this meeting. You should be running.” The big Austrian’s eyes narrowed. “You should be hiding.”
The waitress came over and clanked a plate of food in front of Ash and walked away without a word.
Ash looked up at her ass again and blinked. He picked up his fork and pulled the bed of hash browns on top of his eggs, and then started mashing them together.
“I’m glad you two are taking this tone with me, because it makes the next thing I have to say that much more enjoyable.” Ash took a fork full of hash browns and eggs and put it in his mouth, and then took a bite of crispy bacon.
Klammer licked his lips as he watched Ash eat, and Ash smiled. Dangling things in front of people when they were desperate for them was his favorite past time.
“As of two nights ago,”—he set down his fork—“I have sealed the votes for your company. What you saw last night at the gala meant nothing, what you think you know about the inner workings of the seven members of the council is nothing!” Ash slapped the table and hissed the last word, hushing the dining room into silence once again.
Prock looked around the dining room with indifference and then to his boss sitting next to him.
“And how have you done that?” Klammer finally spoke up.
Ash swiped his hair back to the side and took a sip of coffee. “That’s for me to know, and for you to reap the benefits of. That is, if you pay me the necessary price.” Ash took a bite of his food, and then looked up to see if the hook set.
Prock’s eyes were wide open in either a murderous or amused glare, Ash couldn’t tell.
“What are you talking about?” Klammer leaned forward and pointed his finger at Ash. “We’ve already paid you five hundred thousand dollars. For nothing.”
Ash looked around the room. Satisfied nobody was watching or bending an ear their way, he leaned forward. “The price has doubled.”
The two men sat back and mumbled expletives in their foreign tongue.
Prock turned to Klammer and started chattering in German, and Klammer held up a hand.
Klammer stared at Ash, searching his eyes. “This plan of yours. It wouldn’t have anything to do with the demise of the mayor’s wife, would it?”
Ash dropped his fork and wiped his mouth. “What?” If Klammer only knew the sensitivity of the subject he was treading on. “The mayor’s wife was diagnosed with a rare, progressive form of MS a year ago. Unfortunately, treatment had little effect, and she suffered neurological symptoms. She—”
“Yes,” Klammer said. “I’ve heard about her disease from the mayor himself.”
Klammer narrowed his eyes and relaxed them, searching deeper into Ash’s eyes.
Ash picked up his fork and took another bite. “Five hundred more, or I can let up on my plan and let Irwin have the votes. I’ll be fine either way, gentlemen. You can rest assured of that. Have a good flight back to Austria.”
Ash took a bite of bacon. A bite of eggs. A sip of coffee.
“Okay.” Klammer’s upper lip rose and fell.
“I’ll be in touch,” Ash said, taking another bite.
Prock picked up his hat and gloves off the table and the leather booth creaked as they left.
Chapter 11
It was one o’clock and Wolf was starving, so he drove into the parking lot of the Sunnyside Café. He’d be able to grab a bite in under an hour and still have plenty of time to prepare for the funeral at two-thirty, and he needed some time to sit and think.
As he parked the SUV, he was startled to see the Austrian he’d been talking about with Sarah come out of the door, followed closely by a shorter, older Austrian man. They walked away from Wolf, both dressed in puffy coats with fur flowing out of the necklines. Jonas Prock, Sarah had told him. Followed by his boss. What had Sarah called him? Clam, or Calm, or something?
Wolf sat and watched as they climbed into their Toyota Land Cruiser with rental plates and drove away. Though he couldn’t see their eyes behind their mirrored sunglasses, they looked to be extremely upset, hissing words to one another with clenched jaws, steam shooting out of their tight lips.
He put on his hat and got out, watching the vehicle drive up Main toward the south, toward the mountain, where they were probably staying at one of the more expensive resorts in the ski base village. It would be easy enough to find out.
The hinges squeaked and a cowbell clanged as he stepped inside the Sunnyside, and heads turned and nodded in greeting.
Wolf nodded back and surveyed the room.
Charlie Ash sat in the corner, glaring at him over his wire-rimmed glasses for a second and then concentrating on a cup of coffee.
On a hunch, Wolf approached the table and sat down. Wolf wore jeans over thick long underwear, but he could still feel that the seat was warm and stretched out, like someone had just gotten up.
Ash said nothing to Wolf, just put down his fork on his empty plate and sipped his coffee.
Wolf said nothing back, just took off his hat and threw it next to him. He raked his fingers through his hair and beard.
“Hi Sheriff,” Laura Reese said with a smile as she stopped at the table.
“Hi, Laura,” Wolf said.
“Need a menu?”
“No thanks. I’ll take a barbecue bacon burger, medium, fries, Coke.”
“You got it.” She ignored Ash as she set a check on the table and took his plate.
Ash gave her a fake smile with squinted eyes and watched her go. “Great ass on that girl.”
Wolf took off his coat and put it next to him, then looked at Ash. He was dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and dark blue tie. His face was shiny, closely shaved. His thin lips smacked and his tongue picked pieces of food out of his teeth while his tiny gray eyes behind the gold wire frames looked everywhere but at Wolf. His ash-gray hair was a little out of place, not quite covering his bald spot on top, which made him look like he’d just been smacked in the face with an open hand. Or maybe Wolf was just fantasizing.
“I take it you’re going to the funeral today?” he asked.
Ash nodded and sipped his coffee. “Tough business, about Jen.”
Wolf nodded and looked out the window, then glanced back at Ash.
Ash pushed a crumb with his fingernail, and then he placed his palm on the table. “Well, see you up there.” He gr
abbed his coat and began sliding out of the booth.
“How are the Austrians liking town?” Wolf asked.
Ash stopped short of getting up and gave Wolf an appraising look. He parted his lips, and then closed them. “They’ll know one way or the other in two weeks, when the council votes on the bids. Just like I told them.” Ash stood up.
“They couldn’t crack Charlie Ash? Looks like they didn’t try very hard. Didn’t even pay for lunch.”
Ash picked up the check off the table. “A nine dollar breakfast at Sunnyside? Gonna cost a lot more than that”—he winked—“oh, hey, you have fun at the gala last night? Wait, were you there?”
Wolf smiled. Last night Ash had come to their table, schmoozing with the Sluice County and neighboring Byron County officials, one hand on Commissioner Heller’s shoulder, the other on ex-sheriff Burton’s, asking questions of each person, careful to use their name and the names of their children when applicable, telling a witty joke that was just edgy enough without being dirty, all the while pointedly ignoring Wolf without so much as a glance.
“It was fun,” Wolf said.
Ash slid back into the booth and put both palms on the table. “What did you think about the whole thing?”
Wolf blinked, not biting whatever bait he was laying out.
“About the two counties merging,” Ash said.
Laura came over and gave Wolf his Coke.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she said walking away.
“I think it’s going to be great for both counties. You know the shit we have to go through to get money from the state right now? They hate the fact that we’re still appointing government officials here in Sluice. If we want Rocky Points to be the next Vail or Aspen, which is just inevitable really, the whole government system needs to be restructured. We need to grow up. Join the twenty first century. I think it’s a perfect idea to merge Sluice and Byron counties. It’ll open up appropriations funds with both the state and federal governments. Both counties are going to benefit. And the biggest benefactor? That’s gonna be Rocky Points. I’m telling you, we are going to boom. This place is gonna be on steroids.”
Ash looked at Wolf expectantly.
Wolf took a sip of his Coke. “I heard the talk last night, Charlie.”
“Oh, really? You don’t seem too interested in the idea.”
Wolf looked out the window and back at Ash. “I’m well aware of what you’re getting at. And it’s my understanding that along with the sheriff, all county council positions would become electable positions as well.”
“You’re right,” he said leaning forward, eyes bright. “No more appointments. It’s going to be great. Elections are my bread and butter, always have been. It’s equal parts art and science when it comes to inserting a desired someone into an elected office. Doesn’t matter how entrenched someone is in a position of power, with the right approach and campaign, you can send them packing. In some cases, ruin their entire career, their reputation, ruin their chances for ever having one again.
“I would know, I’ve won four elections and served in four different government positions, and have served on five different election committees over the years.” Ash looked out the window and took a deep breath, looking like he was reminiscing about the good old days, or looking forward to the new. Then he slid out of the booth and left.
Laura placed Wolf’s plate of food in front of him.
“You all set?” she asked.
“No,” Wolf said.
“What do you need?”
Wolf looked up at her. “Sorry, yes. I’m all set.”
Chapter 12
Wolf stood in line with Sarah and Jack. There were seven people ahead of them, and then six, so they shuffled on the marble floor to keep the line moving.
“What did she look like?” Jack whispered.
“Jack,” Sarah gasped.
Wolf gave him a disappointed look, and looked back up the line.
“Sorry, I’m just wondering. Closed casket?”
“Enough,” Sarah said with a warning glare that lowered Jack’s gaze to the floor.
Thanks to Jack’s question, now Wolf couldn’t help but think about Jen Wakefield’s head. When he’d arrived at the Wakefield’s house on Friday, he’d seen the damage done first hand. Whether it was something Jen was aware of or not when she’d pulled the trigger, the gun had been loaded with a bullet designed to rip as it passed through flesh, and it had been messy.
As they stepped forward again, Wolf ignored the chatter around him and concentrated on the front of the line. Charlie and Kevin Ash had just reached the mayor and his son.
Charlie was first, grasping Chris’s hand with both of his and giving a somber nod, along with what looked to be some heartfelt words. Hang in there kid. If you need anything, let me know.
Next came Kevin, who hugged Chris, and Chris hugged him back like a good friend does when they’re comforting each other in the worst of times. When they parted, Charlie and Mayor Wakefield came back into view behind them, and Wolf saw the mayor whispering something into Ash’s ear, and Wolf could have sworn he saw bared teeth.
Ash pulled his hand away from the mayor’s and wiped his hair with it, and then walked away slowly, not turning around as he slowed to wait for Kevin. Kevin gave the mayor a hug and a somber word or two and walked after his father, and then they disappeared out the door.
“I’m so sorry,” Wolf said shaking Chris’s hand. Chris looked up at Wolf and nodded, and then Wolf shuffled to Mayor Wakefield. “I’m so sorry, Craig,” Wolf said.
The mayor’s eyes were heavy and red. He looked hopeless and helpless, completely devastated.
Wolf nodded and began turning away, when the mayor’s hand reached and grabbed his arm. Wolf looked back and met Wakefield’s gaze.
“Thank you, David.” Mayor Wakefield was wide-eyed and leaning toward him, as if pleading. He moved his lips like he wanted to say something, to beg for something, and Wolf wondered if he was about to say, “Shoot me!” But then Wakefield relaxed, nodded, and turned away to Sarah and shook her hand.
Wolf shuffled away quietly, slipping his winter jacket on over his formal four-button coat and watched Wakefield greet Sarah and Jack. He was back to calm, collected, going through the motions once again.
Sarah grabbed Wolf by the arm and looked up. “You okay?”
Wolf nodded and exhaled. “Yeah, let’s go.”
They walked out the door together, almost as if they were a happy, normal family.
The front of the chapel was in shadow, but the white peaks across the valley reflected brightly back at them, making Wolf squint and Jack sneeze as they walked down the steps.
“It’s freezing,” Jack said.
“What was that?” Sarah asked quietly.
Wolf looked at her. “I have no idea. Just…everyone grieves differently, I guess,” Wolf said, not believing anything that came out of his mouth.
“You want to go walk and see your dad and John?” Sarah asked.
Wolf shook his head and saw that Rachette, Patterson, Wilson, Baine, Yates, and a few other deputies were standing down in the parking lot making idle conversation.
“I’ll see you guys later, okay?” Wolf said, and gave Jack a quick hug, and then kissed Sarah on the cheek, which almost turned into an awkward side-mouth kiss because Sarah turned toward him, and then backed away at the last second.
Wolf left with what felt like gracelessness, bee-lining his way toward the deputies.
As he drew near, there was sudden commotion as the whole circle of uniforms turned toward a man who was passing them by, and Wolf realized it was Matt Cooper, the helicopter pilot on the mountain.
Cooper’s chin was stuck out, saying something as he walked by, and it didn’t look like hi, how’s it going.
Baine lunged at him without a second’s hesitation, and then all hell broke loose.
Wolf sprinted through the packed snow as fast as he could in leather loafers. W
hen he reached the group, he saw a haymaker fly from Baine, and heard the solid slap of fist on face. Then Cooper erupted into a flurry of flailing arms, which sent the other deputies darting in like a pride of lions on a wounded zebra.
There was no clear hole to the altercation behind writhing bodies, so Wolf tried to stop, but slipped on his dress shoes and landed on his ass with a spine- jarring thud. He gritted his teeth and got up, and then he started ripping people aside and pushing himself ahead. A few seconds later he was next to the fight, and things quieted as everyone began backing away in collective shame. Everyone but Baine, who was still butting against Cooper, keeping him close with one hand as his other elbow flew backward, landing blow after blow.
Wolf gripped Baine’s hair in his fist and pulled.
Baine squealed with mouth open to the sky and let go of Cooper.
Wolf let Baine drop to the ground and then took Cooper down onto his back much faster than gravity alone would have done the job.
Cooper squirmed and gasped, unable to take a breath for a few seconds, and then his lungs finally whistled, filling with air.
“Get the hell out of here,” Wolf said gripping his neck, inches from Cooper’s face.
Cooper nodded with wide eyes.
Wolf let Cooper up and he left without looking back.
“Sorry, sir,” said Baine, “He was talkin’—“
“Everyone to the sit room, now!” Wolf walked past Baine.
Nobody dared speak as Wolf weaved his way through the deputies out into the parking lot, and nobody made a sound when he slipped on a sheet of slick snow, narrowly avoiding landing on his ass again.
Chapter 13
Wolf leaned against the wall of the situation room, feeling the tender ache on his tailbone.
Patterson stood at the front scribbling on the white board, because out of all the deputies in the department, it turned out she had the most consistently legible handwriting.
“Urine,” Lorber’s voice blared from the laptop computer set in the center of the table, and Patterson wrote down the word. “Nothing underneath her fingernails, other than chicken DNA,” he added.
