by Jeff Carson
“Sir!” Etzel’s voice was frantic over the crackling radio. “Sheriff, come in! We heard shots fired.”
Shumway got to his knees and pulled his radio. “Yeah. We got Boydell. We need an ambulance. My daughter’s been injured.”
“Yes, sir,” Etzel said. “Is she shot?”
“Negative. Just send the ambulance.”
“Copy that. And we’re on our way.”
Shumway turned down his radio. He checked Boydell’s pulse and stood on shaky legs. “This asshole’s still alive.”
He pressed his hand to his side, then pulled it away. His palm was slick with blood. “Shit.”
“You’re hit.”
“Grazed.” Shumway bent down and put the back of his hand on Megan’s face. “Poor girl.”
“She’ll be all right. Probably just a couple stitches.”
Boydell whimpered and writhed on the ground, like a child having a nightmare.
“And what about him?” Shumway asked.
“I hit him in the shoulder. It was a hollow point, but by the amount of blood looks like he’ll live. I’ll take him home and they’ll throw away the key.”
Shumway looked at Wolf. “You so sure about that? He’ll go to trial, and your son’s girlfriend and her family will spend those countless months on pins and needles, hoping this psycho gets what he deserves.” Shumway stood up, baring his teeth as he pushed his palm on his wound again. “And maybe he’s just crazy enough to plead not guilty. Maybe he gets some public defender who’ll pick apart our procedures over the last few days.”
“He just shot the sheriff of Windfield County. If the rest of it falls through the cracks, at least he’ll rot for that.”
Megan’s eyelids fluttered.
Wolf squeezed her shoulder. “Megan, you—”
Before he could react, he felt Boydell’s Beretta slip from his waistband.
Shumway stood over Boydell and aimed down.
“Don’t do it, Shumway.” Wolf held out his hand. “You shoot him, I’ve gotta report the truth of what you did. You’re going to be put in jail along with him. You want to put your daughter through that?”
“You’re gonna take away my chance to make my daughter proud?” Shumway looked at Wolf. “I wrestled with Boydell. I took the gun away and shot him in the heat of the moment. It was pure self-defense. I saved my daughter’s life.”
“Daddy, don’t do it.”
Shumway flinched at the sound of his daughter’s voice. “Honey.”
“I’m sorry about the video, Daddy.” Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the blood.
Shumway closed his eyes. “What video, honey?”
Wolf held out his hand. “Come on. It’s over. Let me take him back. That family needs this man to face justice. Your family needs you.”
Shumway lowered the gun and collapsed to his knees. He studied the blossoming red spot on his side and then fell over.
“Daddy!”
Wolf cuffed Boydell and got to work on plugging Shumway’s wound.
Chapter 42
Margaret Hitchens sniffed and put her head on Wolf’s shoulder. “My God, it’s so beautiful,” she whispered with all the awe and reverence in the universe. Not bothering to wait for Wolf’s reply, she clasped her hands to her chest and stood straight.
Wolf had to admit, it was an impressive setting for a wedding.
A never-ending sea of peaks with light-green swaths of aspens cutting through a carpet of pines surrounded them on all sides.
The air was crisp and cool, and still—not a breath of wind—which was about as rare as finding a nugget of gold on the ground for the top of Rocky Points Ski Resort. The sun shone bright, with low clouds lazily floating past now and again, painting the mountaintops and valleys with their shadows.
It was at times like this when he renewed his vow to Rocky Points that he’d never leave her.
“You seeing the knockers on the third bridesmaid?” Rachette spoke out the side of his mouth in Wolf’s ear.
Wolf gave him a sideways glance.
Charlotte Munford was next to Rachette, smiling and nodding at Wolf. “Beautiful, huh?” she said.
Wolf contemplated her question.
“It is.” Margaret leaned across Wolf’s lap. “Oh my God, they did such a good job with the decorations.”
“Shhhhhh.”
Margaret turned and glared at someone behind them.
Jack sat alone next to Margaret, sharing a roll of his eyes with Wolf. Cassidy had stayed away from the festivities, having just put her father in the ground the day before.
If the setting was beautiful, then Patterson was a goddess. She was dressed in a tasteful white dress that displayed her lean shoulders and slim waist. Her auburn hair was pulled back with flowers that framed her glowing, freckled face.
She looked up at Scott Reed and beamed with a toothy smile that kicked off more energy than the sun. In fact, it was such a happy, contented expression that Wolf couldn’t help but envy Scott.
Scott seemed struck by the moment too, and though he towered over Patterson, standing at least six foot four to her five foot one, he looked humbled by her huge presence.
Wolf slid his gaze to the shiny brown hair of Special Agent Kristen Luke, who sat in the front row next to a muscular man whom Wolf had met just before the ceremony. He’d been introduced as Gestad, which Wolf guessed was Swedish for muscles. Kristen leaned close and with a conspiratorial smile whispered something into the man’s ear, then started laughing uncontrollably.
Margaret reached over and grabbed Wolf’s hand, and Wolf gave her a toothless smile.
The ceremony continued without a hitch, and when the officiant pronounced them man and wife, Wolf wondered whether they’d be calling her Deputy Reed now.
After a heartfelt round of applause from Wolf and the guests, a considerable crowd by any wedding’s standards, the bride and groom wandered off along the mountain top with the photographer toward a wildflower-covered ski run.
Everyone else walked and mingled, making their way along the ridgeline to the Antler Creek Lodge.
Wolf put his arm around Jack and steered him to a spot devoid of people.
“What’s up?” Jack asked.
“I want to talk to you.”
“Okay.”
Wolf stared at an eagle circling in the sky.
“Dad?”
“Yeah. Listen, I want to talk to you about sex.”
Jack’s eyes widened and his face went red. “Uh, okay. You think this is the place to have this conversation? Kind of a bad place, Dad.”
“I don’t care. We need to have this talk.”
Jack looked down at his feet.
“I know about you and Cassidy camping together, alone, last weekend. You want to talk about a bad place? Think about where you’ll be if Cassidy gets pregnant and you aren’t even old enough to drive yet.”
Jack huffed and kicked at a piece of grass.
“Look at me,” Wolf said.
Jack did.
“I want you using protection. I want you two acting responsible.”
“We haven’t had sex yet.”
“Hey, there you two are.” Margaret came up and looked at both of them. “But … this is a bad time … so I’ll talk to you later.” She walked away and warned someone else to stay clear as she disappeared into the crowd.
Wolf could think of nothing else to say, so he put his hands on his son’s shoulders and gave him a meaningful nod. When they were done understanding one another telepathically, he ruffled Jack’s hair and began walking.
“How’s she doing?”
Jack stepped next to him. “She’s sad. They all are. I’m not sure what to do for her.”
“Well, you know how it is. It’ll take time, and even then, it still sucks. And takes more time.”
Wolf and Jack walked to Rachette and Munford, who were standing and talking on the trail.
“’Sup, dude?” Rachette asked Jack, giving him a mock uppercut
to the stomach.
Wolf and Munford stood shaking their heads as Jack and Rachette wrestled for another few seconds, and then Jack spotted a friend named Chip, whom Wolf had once heard was a “bomb” skier.
“I’ll see you guys in there,” Jack said and ran to his friend.
“I don’t know about you guys, but tonight I’m gonna get housed.” Rachette looked at Wolf. “Of course, I’m off work tomorrow, so you’re fine with that.”
“Just don’t fall off the gondola on the way down.”
Rachette’s face dropped. “How would I fall off? Those doors are locked tight, aren’t they?”
Wolf smiled and checked his watch.
“What? You have somewhere better to be?” Munford asked.
Wolf shrugged and made a noncommittal noise.
They walked in silence for a beat, and then Munford bubbled over. “Oh, I’m so excited. I’ve never been here.”
“That’s because it’s five hundred bucks for a meal,” Rachette said. “When Wolf decides to double my salary, I’ll bring you here. How about that?”
“Oh, I wasn’t hinting you needed to take me, Tom. How about you, sir? Have you eaten here?”
Wolf remembered the last time he’d been inside the restaurant. It had been with Sarah. “A couple of times.”
Munford whistled. “Five hundred bucks for a meal? There’s gotta be over two hundred people here. Apparently, Mr. Patterson is well-to-do.”
“Entertainment lawyer in Aspen,” Rachette said. “I’m gonna get on his good side tonight. The guy knows TC personally.”
Munford frowned at him. “And what? He’s going to introduce you?”
“Never know, babe. Maybe he has some extra memorabilia lying around.”
Munford laughed and then looked like she remembered Wolf was still there. “So, you thought she was beautiful?”
Wolf was taken aback by the phrasing of the question. “Yeah, she looked really beautiful. Scott’s a lucky man.”
“No, I mean the bridesmaid Tom pointed out.”
He looked at her, thoroughly confused.
Rachette bounced his eyebrows. “Charlotte knows her pretty well. Small world, eh? We can introduce you if you want. She knows who you are.”
“She thinks you’re hot,” Munford said, flashing a mischievous smile.
Wolf tried on a few facial expressions, and ended up mumbling something incoherent.
“David!” Margaret yelled behind them.
“I’ll see you guys,” Wolf said, dropping out of the procession.
“Wait up.” Margaret jogged up and stopped, twisting an ankle. “Ah, dammit.”
“Why’d you wear those shoes?”
“Why did I wear these shoes? Have you seen them?” She pointed down.
“Oh, yes. Those are great shoes, Margaret.”
“Ha. Thanks.”
He checked his watch again.
“Why do you keep checking your watch? You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?”
Wolf nodded. “I’ve got a thing.”
“You’ve got a thing? This is Heather’s wedding. That’s your thing for the night.”
A woman stared at Wolf as she passed by, leaving behind a cloud of perfume that choked his nostrils. A little behind the nameless woman, Kristen Luke and Gestad strolled arm in arm.
Kristen was cuddled close to the man’s ample pectorals and laughing, and then her face dropped as she saw Wolf.
They smiled and nodded at one another as she passed.
“Anyway, I’ve gotta go.”
“Heather will be devastated.”
Wolf caught a glimpse of Patterson and Scott through the throngs of people. They were laughing and holding one another in front of the photographer. Wolf looked at the gondola terminal and then back at the bride and groom and felt a wave of guilt wash over him.
“I’ll talk to you later.”
Wolf walked away from the throngs of people, out among the long grass of the mountaintop toward the bride and groom. He waited patiently with his hands in his pockets, ruining a couple of shots as Patterson broke her pose and looked at him.
“Just a second,” she said to Scott and walked over.
“Sorry. I just have to leave and I wanted to say congratulations.”
“You have to leave?” She looked heartbroken, but tried to play it off. “Okay, yeah. No problem. Thanks for coming.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry.”
They stood in silence for a moment, and he waved to Scott.
“Congratulations, Scott.”
Scott smiled. “Thanks, Dave.”
“Sir?” Patterson stared up at Wolf with a troubled expression.
“Yeah?”
“What happens if I have a kid?”
He frowned. “What happens if you have a kid?”
“If I decide to have children, am I screwed?”
“Yes.”
She frowned.
“Because anyone who has a child is screwed.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Are you talking about your job?”
“Yeah. I mean, I can’t hold my job and have kids, can I?”
“I have a kid, and I hold my job.”
She gave him a look that said she was seconds from killing him.
He put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re the sharpest detective I have. I’ll never let you go as long as you want the job. If you decide to have children, then we’ll work around it.”
She instantly burst into tears, and then she lunged forward and hugged him tightly, dropping her flower bouquet on the ground next to them.
Wolf stared at Scott with wide eyes and patted her back.
She pushed away and smiled so brightly he couldn’t help but return one of his own.
“Thanks. I hate that you have to leave, but thanks.” She turned and walked back to the photographer and Scott.
The photographer’s jaw dropped and he looked at Wolf with naked contempt.
Chapter 43
Wolf walked into the steamy, beer-vapor-infused restaurant and searched the pine booths lining the windows.
“Table for one?” A disheveled looking hostess grabbed a menu and looked at him.
“No, thanks. I’m meeting that man over there.”
She dropped the menu back in its slot and left, disappearing into the sea of loud drinkers in the bar area.
Wolf walked over, loosening and removing his tie and shoving it in his jacket pocket. Stopping at the table, he slid onto the creaky pine bench opposite the man.
“You’re late.” Senator Levenworth didn’t bother looking up as he sawed into a steak that looked like a burnt hockey puck.
Wolf nodded.
“Can I get you something to drink, David?” a female voice said next to him.
“No thanks, Kim.”
She smiled warmly and looked at Levenworth.
Levenworth pointed his steak knife at the half-drunk glass of golden liquid. “Another Dewar’s. Less water this time, more Dewar’s.”
She nodded and left.
“This food is shit. This is the best place you could come up with to meet? And you’re not even getting anything?” Levenworth shook his head and took another bite.
“I saw the bones weren’t in the back of your truck,” Wolf said. “I thought you already picked them up from the building.”
“My assistant is driving them back in a rented truck.” Levenworth set down his knife and fork, then took a long pull of his Scotch and eyed Wolf over the rim of the glass. When he was done, he exhaled and put down the glass with a clank. “I don’t have any obligation to help you with your request.”
They stared at one another until Kim came over and slid another glass of Scotch in front of Levenworth.
“But I like you,” Levenworth said as he looked around the room. “And I like kids. Don’t have any of my own, but I find them tolerable.” His eyes came back to Wolf. “I sent the money via my personal foundation to the medical clinic in Scotland.
Wasn’t cheap. Three hundred forty-five thousand American dollars.”
Wolf nodded.
Levenworth gripped his Scotch. “The kid and his mom have a first-class plane ticket that leaves tomorrow morning from Salt Lake City, and he’ll be under the knife, or whatever they use, in two days.”
Wolf nodded.
Levenworth finished his almost empty Scotch and pulled over the new one. “I know you think I knew about the illegal nature of those bones, but I didn’t.”
Wolf nodded.
Levenworth stared at him for a few seconds and then shook his head. “I’ve been looking at those procedures they do up there. That treatment has a sixty-five-percent success rate. There’s no guarantee this is even going to work for the kid.”
Wolf looked at his watch. 6:54 p.m. “I’ve gotta go.” He slid to the edge of the booth and stood up. “See ya.”
“That’s it?” Levenworth looked up with an incredulous smile.
“That’s it.”
Wolf walked through the loud bar area of Stan’s Pub and Grill and out through the side entrance. The door creaked and slapped shut behind him, and the bar noise was muted to almost nothing.
He crunched his way on top of the downed pine needles, through the twenty yards of forest and out onto the community-center parking lot.
His dress shoes crackled as he stepped on the pebble-strewn asphalt, and he walked to the front door and went inside.
Immediately, Wolf felt like he’d been punched in the stomach, because Sarah was right there to greet him. Her smile was bright, her eyes radiant, a gleaming orb in the center of each of her pupils from the picture flash. Underneath her photo, a brass engraving read her name.
“David?” a woman’s voice said.
Wolf turned. “Hi, Carol.”
Carol Fitzsimmons was short and squat, with a puffy wave of white hair and thick glasses. She was in her seventies, but moved like a woman twenty years younger. She got up from the desk and hurried over to him with a tiny outstretched hand.
Wolf shook it and smiled, noting a sign with press-on letters on the wall that said, Tonight @ 7 pm: Grief Counseling Group.
“What brings you to the Old Bank?” she asked, referring to the nickname of the community building, as it had been the bank of Rocky Points over a hundred years prior.
