Deadly Conditions (David Wolf Book 4)

by Jeff Carson

  “You snuck in the back,” Charlie Ash said.

  Wolf cocked his head, wondering for a second if Charlie Ash was speaking directly to him. The voice was faint in his ear, echoing like it was in a cathedral, and it hissed with static.

  “Used your key. I knew you would if you showed up…” Ash’s voice said.

  Wolf decided no, he’d been talking to Kevin. The tone was too intimate, for Kevin’s ears only.

  Wolf walked on moist socks across the tiled floor of the mudroom and entered the kitchen. It was brightly lit and very large, like half of Wolf’s house large. Wolf kept his eyes on the hallway ahead and shuffled forward, not worrying about the details of the immaculate space.

  “Sit down!” Kevin’s voice yelled, now just as clear in the hallway ahead of Wolf as in his ear.

  “Shoot me!” Ash responded.

  Wolf pulled his pistol and peered around the corner. The hall extended far longer before exiting into the great room than Wolf had envisioned from the diagram Kevin had drawn. He decided he needed to move fast, because by the sound of Kevin and Charlie Ash’s argument, Wolf’s objective sounded in serious danger.

  Kevin had said sit down. Did that mean Charlie was coming at him?

  Wolf ducked back into the kitchen and held up his wrist. “What’s going on?” he murmured into his wrist mic.

  “You’ve gotta get there I think, sir,” Patterson said quickly, “It looks like he’s stepping forward to make a move.”

  “Who?” Wolf asked.

  “Charlie on Kevin.”

  Wolf ran out into the hall and trotted along the right wall, then slowed as he reached the end. He inched forward until he saw Ash’s right arm. He was just where they’d told Kevin to put him, but he was standing rather than sitting on the chair.

  If this turned into an all out brawl and either of them got hurt…Wolf didn’t need to finish the thought. He’d already run over it in his mind a thousand times. He was treading on both sides of a fine line that divided ethical police work and vigilante justice. It was too late now to consider the consequences of failure.

  Wolf stopped and listened closely, sensing the mounting tension in the room around the corner.

  “Here’s a little secret that is just going to kill you,” Ash said, clear as a squad siren in Wolf’s ears this time.

  Wolf held his breath, knowing they’d roped Ash in. As he let out his breath and held another, he began wondering if maybe they hadn’t after all. Ash had to suspect something was going on when he’d learned Wolf was lying to him. And now he was up and standing in front of Kevin. Did he suspect the bullets were blanks and was about to charge his son?

  “I killed Mary Richardson,” Ash said.

  Wolf closed his eyes and let out his breath.

  “Got it,” Patterson said into Wolf’s ear.

  “I killed her. I drugged you, and killed her, and then put you next to her,” Ash said.

  “Got that,” Patterson said.

  “It feels good to finally tell you. I was surprised when you started…”

  The room fell silent and Wolf decided it was over.

  “What the hell is going on?” Ash asked.

  Wolf was going to enjoy telling him. He opened his eyes and stepped forward.

  Ash was standing across from Kevin with his head cocked to one side. His forehead was creased, eyes darting around the room, and when he saw Wolf his face fell, looking like he’d just found a bomb with a ticking timer that read three seconds left until detonation.

  “You pieces of shit!” Ash yelled, and then he reached his right arm behind him and pulled a pistol out of his pants.

  Wolf raised his gun, aimed and shot.

  Ash’s shoulder jerked back and he twisted and landed on the ground.

  “What’s going on?” Rachette screamed into the mic, and then Wolf heard frantic squeaking footsteps in the kitchen down the hall.

  “It’s okay,” Wolf said into his mic.

  Kevin stared wide-eyed at Wolf for a few seconds, then looked over at his father.

  Ash was writhing in a growing pool of blood on the hardwood floor, spitting strings of spittle and obscenities out of his mouth.

  Wolf walked to Ash and picked up the revolver, tucked it in the back of his pants, and then walked to Kevin with his hand out.

  Kevin stood still, studying his father with a blank expression, and then raised the pistol to give it to Wolf. The index finger on his left hand was still taut on the trigger.

  “Kevin,” Wolf said.

  Kevin blinked and looked at Wolf, and then gave him the pistol. “Thank you,” he said.

  Chapter 32

  The little boy sitting in the gondola car in front of Patterson wore silver mirrored goggles and hadn’t moved his head an inch in the last few minutes.

  She smiled again at him, receiving no response. Or at least none she could see. The kid had a neck warmer pulled over his mouth, too.

  Both parents were tapping thumbs on their phones, oblivious to the Colorado bluebird day with six inches of fresh powder outside.

  Two kids? She couldn’t even get this kid to acknowledge her. How could she expect to swoop into the lives of two children, as some sort of mommy-stand-in figure no less, and expect anything but a complete disaster?

  She looked out the window of the gondola car and directed her thoughts to Edna Yerton.

  Rachette had promised Patterson last night that he would check on the old woman this morning. He had volunteered because he was trying to schmooze Patterson rather than taking an easier and more appropriate approach…like apologizing to her face. But, that’s not how Deputy Tom Rachette worked. She had learned that over the last several months. In fact, he was probably clueless he had done anything wrong. It doesn’t matter now, she thought. Whatever was going on between them, at least Edna Yerton would be the better for it.

  Fatigue pulled at her eyelids as she watched a skier bounce effortlessly over the blanketed terrain below. Probably a local, she thought. Locals often skied mid-week to avoid weekend madness. And since she knew only a handful of townspeople at best, she had no clue who the man sailing down in a cloud of powder was, and she was sick of that. She was sick of nightly television shows for a social life and sick of being a stranger in her own town. But barhopping wasn’t the answer. She was going to change things, and she would do it her way.

  Her palms sweated under her gloves and her bowels squirmed. It was going to be nice when this was over, whatever came of it.

  Then again, maybe she would just ride the gondola back down and save herself the embarrassment. Oh, God. Kristen would give me hell for that. She took a quaky breath and looked back at the boy.

  Still unmoved. The kid was a rock.

  The gondola bounced over a tower’s cable wheels, and the little boy started to lean to his side. Then he slid forward a little and bonked his helmet on the window and then hit his face. He jerked upright, reaching out his hands and wobbling his head.

  Patterson blew air out of her nose and smiled wide, attracting a curious glance from the parents. Only a glance each, and then they burrowed themselves back into their display screens.

  When she looked back at the boy, he had pulled his neck warmer down and was smiling wide, showcasing a mouth with more than a few teeth missing.

  She shook her head and returned the grin, grateful the gondola car was only another tower from the upper terminal. Staring at that gapped smile any longer than that and she would have probably started laughing uncontrollably.

  The interaction with the child steeled her resolve to finish what she came to do, and as the gondola slowed and the door clicked and opened, she took a deep breath and waved the family first. She gave a little wink to the boy as he left, and then she followed the family out the door and left them fumbling with their equipment and walked on.

  Outside the morning was bright, and crisp, and clear, and not many skiers were milling around on top of the mountain. If she weren’t on duty in a few minutes, t
hen she’d have been skiing.

  She walked down the grated steps and onto the soft packed powder, and her heart fluttered and her breath caught when she saw the snow cat in the distance. She felt unnerved when she saw Scott Reed sitting on the wheel track.

  He wore dark sunglasses, sitting tall and staring in her direction, but he wasn’t smiling. His eyebrows were knit together like he was confused as to why she would visit him.

  Her courage drained through her legs, and just when she thought she’d really made a mistake his face lit up into a smile that seemed to raise the sun higher in the sky.

  “Hey!” He said getting up from his seat and walking briskly toward her.

  His ski pants swished as he stepped with strong legs, covering a lot of distance with each stride. He was wearing a gray hat, a gray heavy knit sweater, and a blue and red scarf wrapped around his neck. It was pseudo-European looking, and Patterson realized the man was a little bit of a fashion-isto and the thought made her smile even wider than she already was.

  They approached each other with such speed that she thought she might fly into his arms and they’d be caught in an embrace for half the morning, and then that thought made her balk, and she slowed and held out her hand.

  He seemed to have a similar thought, because he stopped quickly too, putting his sunglasses to his forehead with an awkward smile. His Caribbean lagoon-green eyes darted around and he looked a little embarrassed after looking so happy to see her a few moments before.

  Or she could have been seeing things. Again. And it was time to put a stop to this torture.

  “Hey—“

  “Hey—“

  They both spoke at the same time and then laughed.

  “I saw you and didn’t know if that was you or Rachette,” he said.

  She raised her eyebrows. “Oh that’s disturbing.”

  He laughed easily and shook his head. “No, sorry. I mean, I have terrible eye -sight at a distance when I’m not wearing my contacts, which I’m not.”

  She laughed. “Ah, okay.”

  Their laughter wound down and they were left with a few moments of silence, but it wasn’t tense, because he had an air of easiness that made her feel comfortable. He just smiled a little and looked at her, as if she would get on with whatever she was going to say when she was good and ready, and it wasn’t his place to push her into it.

  She looked down and pulled a straggly piece of hair behind her ear. “Um, so I just came up here to ask you a few questions.”

  “Okay, great,” he said.

  She stared back for a few seconds, and then rolled her eyes. “Okay, listen. Are you married?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because I heard you were.”

  “And you believe everything you hear?”

  She stared up at those eyes again.

  He stopped smiling and pulled off his left glove and displayed his hand. “See?”

  “That’s the oldest trick in the book for some men.”

  “Not for me,” he held her gaze for a few seconds, and then concentrated on putting his gloves back on. “So…it matters to you if I’m married or not?”

  She hesitated, and then she didn’t. “Yes.”

  “Good.” His smiled vanished. “Hey, is it true about Kevin Ash? He didn’t come into work today and there’s some serious rumors going around.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like he was the one who killed Stephanie and Matt, and the mayor.”

  She looked back at the snow cat, wondering just how much information she could disclose or not. “You believe everything you hear?”

  “Well, is it true?”

  “If I said yes could I convince you to keep your mouth shut about it for a while?”

  “You know,” he said. “Kevin Ash was with me that night.”

  “What? What night?”

  “The gala night, Saturday. When I was driving Stephanie and that guy she was with. He was sitting right next to me in the snow cat. Said he was with a few other patrollers checking out the bowl underneath the lodge.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah” He nodded. “He was following her right then, and sitting there chatting me up the whole time. When people were talking about what he did this morning, I got the serious creeps.”

  “And were you going to tell your local sheriff’s department about this?”

  He scratched his head and then shrugged. “I get off at noon today. I was sitting on the news, and was going to swing into the station and tell the prettiest deputy I knew about it.”

  Despite silently screaming at herself to not do it again, she rolled her eyes.

  “And if Deputy Rachette wasn’t there, I was going to tell you.” His face was deadpan.

  She laughed. “I’ve obviously made a mistake coming up here.”

  They laughed together and his face turned red, which made Patterson like him even more.

  “But seriously,” she said. “That is a good idea for you to come down. We’ll need an official statement.”

  He nodded. “And when you get off work tonight, would you like to go get dinner with me? Or if that seems too forward, we could go get a coffee, or—”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” she said. Then the curious voice in her head took over. It wouldn’t shut up.

  “What?” Scott narrowed his eyes.

  “I…never mind.”

  “What? What?” His eyes were alight with childish curiosity, and it made her smile.

  “I guess I just wanted to know, how old are your children? I know it’s a weird question, but I just want to know. It’s just something I’ve—”

  “What children?”

  She closed her mouth.

  “I don’t have any kids.”

  Her face went red and her chest constricted. “You’ve never been married?”

  “No. I thought we already discussed that.”

  “No, you’re right. Never mind. I was just misunderstanding something, something that…I must have taken it the wrong way. Listen, I’ll see you later at the station when you come in. Have a good morning.”

  “Wait, what if you’re not there? Can I get your phone number?”

  She gave him a contact card and backed away with what she hoped looked like a smile.

  “Thank you. Tell Rachette hi for me.”

  She nodded. “I’ll be telling him hi alright. Upside his head.”

  She turned and walked away before the look of confusion on Scott’s face was fully formed.

  Chapter 33

  Two Months Later…

  Wolf answered Burton’s phone call and listened.

  “Okay. See you then.”

  He hung up and stared at the rolling waves of snow descending the western slopes of the valley into Rocky Points. The first large snowflake hit the glass and melted, and then another dozen left their marks. The late April snow was going to be a thick and wet. It would break branches and collapse old roofs if it got deep, which the forecasters were saying was likely.

  He turned on the wipers and scrolled through his phone contacts, stopping at the inch of screen that displayed Kristen Luke’s and Sarah Muller’s phone numbers.

  For two months he’d been ignoring Sarah’s hints that she might want to go for a drink or dinner. Or if he’d ever found himself alone with her, he’d pretend like he had to leave in fear she might start talking—telling him things he didn’t want to hear.

  Because the truth was, what Charlie Ash had said that night in the entryway of his house… well, it had made perfect sense to Wolf. It had given some sort of reason for Sarah’s actions since she’d gotten sober.

  But since that night he hadn’t wanted to deal with the revelation. Not then, and not up until now. Not while he had more important things to worry about, like how he might have ruined the careers of three of his deputies.

  Today was the day, he thought. Because everything else was coming to a head, and it might as well be the day. Because he was about to go ta
lk to Burton—to face the consequences of his actions two months earlier—and he was ready to rip the band-aid off the Wolf-Sarah wound once and for all to see what was underneath.

  Wolf pushed Sarah’s name on the screen. He listened to the phone ring in his ear and watched the wipers leave long swaths of water as they squeaked back and forth.

  “Hello?” Sarah answered.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “Can we talk?” Wolf asked.

  There was a long pause. “Sure. I’m at the office, can you come over?”

  “Be right there.”

  Wolf pulled back onto the road and drove into town. A minute later he pulled into the parking lot of the Hitching Post Realty storefront office. His front tire dropping into a hole filled with muddy water, he shut off the engine and got out.

  By the time he opened the jangling glass door his hair was coated with a half inch of snow. Stepping into the warm office space, he brushed his head with his hand and wiped his feet on the welcome mat.

  Sarah, Margaret, and one man Wolf didn’t recognize looked up from their desks, which were all angled to face the large plate glass window front of the office like they were plants soaking up as much light as possible.

  “Howdy, Sheriff,” Margaret said in a terrible Texas accent.

  “Hello,” Wolf said. He nodded at Sarah, who scooted back her chair and stood up. The man sitting at the other desk nodded and got back to pecking on his keyboard.

  “How are things going?” Margaret asked, this time in a normal tone. She narrowed her eyes. “You talk to Burton yet?”

  Wolf shook his head.

  She raised her eyebrows and nodded, and then looked down at her computer screen.

  Wolf blinked. “How about you? Business good?”

  “Excellent as usual, but not as good as it could be. Hey, Barry,”—she looked over at the man at the desk next to Sarah’s—“this is Sheriff Wolf. Sheriff Wolf, this is Barry Hashberger. He’s a new one I recruited out of Vail.”