by Jeff Carson
She was firm and soft at the same time, warm and moving, a humming embrace, breath in his ear, coils of hair on his cheek and lavender in his nose.
Abruptly, she pulled away. “Sorry,” she said, smiling. “Shit. Sorry. I just didn’t expect that.”
He smiled at the sight of her joy. “So you’re happy then.”
The front door opened and her father poked his head outside. “What’s going on out here?” He wore flannel pajama pants and a washed-out T-shirt that said Summit County Sheriff’s Department.
“It’s okay, Dad, I’m just out here talking to Sheriff Wolf.”
“Sheriff Wolf?”
Wolf held out his hand. “Yes, sir. Nice to meet you.”
“You’re the Sheriff?”
“Yes, sir.”
They shook hands. Her father’s grip was large and sweaty.
“Peter Cain. Operations Commander Summit County Sheriff’s Department. It’s a pleasure. What’s the occasion for your visit?”
“I was just going over some case points with Piper, er, Deputy Cain. It couldn’t wait, so I decided to stop by the house. I hope you don’t mind, sir.”
“No…” Her father stopped short. His eyes glazed over and Wolf could see the moment something short circuited. He turned around and went back inside, leaving the front door open.
Piper followed and poked her head in, and Wolf could see past her as her father sat back down in his chair and pressed a button on the remote control.
She shut the door and turned around with folded arms. The earlier joy had left her face.
“Well,” he said. “I guess that’s all I had. I have to head back to Rocky Points.”
“Long drive,” she said.
“Long drive.”
She gazed past him again, then locked her dark browns on his. “I have to think about it.”
“Of course. Yeah.” Her answer puzzled him, but he kept his face neutral. He looked in through the window at her father who was now rummaging through the refrigerator. “Well. Good night,” he said with a final nod, walking to the stairs.
“Good night. And, sir?”
He stopped. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
She shrugged.
“You’re welcome. Take your time with your decision. It’s a big one. I’ll talk to you soon.”
He stopped at the top of the steps. “Oh, and Piper?”
She poked her head back out. “Yes?”
“Be careful of those men up at the mine. It’s them. They did it. They killed Chris Oakley and Mary Dimitri.”
She stepped out onto the porch again, her eyes hardened. “You found proof.”
“Not yet. But it’s a matter of when, not if.”
“Okay. I will.”
Chapter 26
Piper Cain woke the next morning feeling more energized than she had in over a year. Maybe ten years, because not since her first day on the job up in Gallatin County could she remember feeling such promise for her future and such an alive buzz inside her.
She had the job.
“We’re out of milk!” her father yelled from the kitchen.
“Stacy’s bringing some when she comes over!” she said, buttoning up her khaki uniform shirt.
And she had her father.
She finished putting on her eyeliner, wondering if she would see the Sheriff again today.
And she had Sheriff Wolf as a boss.
All night she’d been thinking of how she’d thrown herself around his neck last night. She was half horrified about her reaction, and half glad she’d done it.
Pulling her arms around him had been like hugging a tree. The man’s body was rock solid and unwavering as she had crushed him in her embrace. His face had been sandpaper, his body stiff as wood. Maybe a bit soft in the middle, but she had felt the way he had flexed when she pressed into him. He had even smelled of some sort of pine deodorant. An all-around nice wood sculpture, that man was.
She shook her head. “Easy, Piper,” she said to herself in the mirror.
And then her mind drifted forward into a more realistic future, of her working in the county building down in Rocky Points, and her pathetic crush on her older, completely unavailable due to obvious professional conflicts that would land them both in the unemployment line, boss.
And what would happen to her father if she took him away from this place? Things really would turn sad if instead of looking out on Dredge Valley she gave him an apartment wall in downtown Rocky Points to stare at.
“Hello!” Stacy called as she came inside.
She blinked out of her thoughts. “Hi Stacy!”
She was on time as always. On the mark.
Piper strapped on her duty belt and went out into the great room. Light streamed in at a perfect angle, making the space sparkle.
“What happened to you?” Stacy asked.
“What?”
“You look especially chipper today.”
“Really?” She shrugged and went to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee into her to-go cup. When she turned around Stacy was still studying her. “How are the kids?”
Stacy tilted her head, eyeing her suspiciously, then beamed at the thought of her grandchildren. “Rambunctious as ever. They’re going fishing with their father today.”
“That’s nice,” Piper answered, but her mind was already on the day ahead. She was planning on doing her usual rounds around town, but she also wanted to do some snooping up at Rick Hammes’s house. Sleep had come in fits last night. In between vivid visions of life in Rocky Points and regrets of wrapping herself around David Wolf, and fantasies of doing it again, she’d also been cycling through the same images of Chavez shooting Rick Hammes and his dog. And then there was Wolf’s certainty that the men up at the mine had killed Chris Oakley and Mary Dimitri.
If Wolf was right, that meant the men from the mine had planted that gun in the woodpile outside of Rick Hammes’s house. It was brazen. Ballsy. Also stupid. She thought about when they would have done it, and realized it must have been Monday night, after they killed Mary Dimitri with the gun. That was the same night the neighbor had said he’d heard Hammes come home, because the dog had gone quiet.
Maybe there were more clues up there. As much as she despised thinking about talking to that eye-groper neighbor of Hammes’s, maybe he’d seen more than he thought. He just didn’t know it.
“Are you listening to me?” Stacy asked. “He-llo.”
“Sorry. I’ve just got a big day ahead.” She picked up her to-go cup. “Bye, Dad, be good for Stacy today.”
“I’m always good.”
She smiled at the sane response from her father and left out the door.
Stacy was right on her heels. “I have to leave here at four p.m. sharp today to be with the kids.”
“Yes, I remember. I’ll be off duty at three-thirty. I’ll be home in time.”
“Okay. Just a gentle reminder.”
She stopped and gave Stacy a hug. “Thank you.”
The woman stood with her hands by her sides, then pulled them up and wrapped them around her.
“I appreciate it,” Piper said.
Stacy held her at arm’s length and shook her head. “You look just like your mother, do you know that?” She poked Piper’s stomach. “And you’re just as skinny. You need to put on some weight.”
“Yeah, yeah.” How easy she could do just that by skipping a couple weeks of yoga. “I’ll see you later.”
Piper slowed and parked her Jeep in the same spot as the last time she’d been to Hammes’s house.
She turned off the ignition and sat in her silent car, listening to the incessant click somewhere inside the dashboard until that, too, came to a stop.
It had been four hours since she’d left the house this morning. After a hearty lunch at the bakery in town and a bit of stalling, she was finally here.
Her eyes went to the open window and the road next to her. Two spots still darkened the ground wher
e Hammes and his dog had fallen.
Surprisingly little emotion stirred inside. She had been stalling for nothing, she decided.
She got out, her feet scratching on the road as she approached the spot and bent down, putting her hand down but not touching.
A low rumble of thunder came from the far distance, just at the edge of being audible. Yesterday’s rains hadn’t scrubbed the road clean. Maybe today’s would do the trick. Maybe it would never go away, but soak its way deep in the ground, becoming part of the road, like the memory would with her.
The sky was gathering in the southwest, darkening behind the peaks where the Jackson Mine lay. The air was still. A crow cawed as it glided across the sky and dove into the trees.
She climbed back into the Jeep, fired the engine, and coasted down to Hammes’s house, parking out front of the chain link fence.
"Howdy, there!"
She started and turned to see the neighbor, Ned Larson, out in Hammes’s front yard.
“You caught me!” he said, holding his hands up. He picked up something off the ground near the front door and walked toward her and the fence.
“What are you doing in there?” Her heart was racing. The last thing she was expecting was a confrontation. She hung back on the other side of the Jeep, keeping her hand close to her weapon.
Ned held up a silver bowl that glinted in the afternoon sunlight. “I told you that demon took my bowl. I figured now that they’re in the hospital I’d come over and get my property back before he returns. Otherwise I’ll never get it.”
She relaxed a bit. “You scared me.”
Ned seemed oblivious to her. He reached the chain link and dropped the bowl over the other side with a clank, and then proceeded to climb the fence with the least amount of grace she’d ever seen.
“Do you need my help?” she asked, watching him quiver on top as he pulled his other leg over.
“I didn't feed Dex that steak,” Larson said, stumbling to his knees at her feet.
“Are you okay?”
Larson ignored her again and got up, brushing himself off. “He was yelling at me about that when he came home. I know what meat can do to him. I fed him only the specific blend of chow he gave me from the Tupperware. I never fed him anything else. Sure as hell not this.” He reached over and picked up his bowl, then something else off the ground.
He straightened, holding the steel bowl in one hand and a bone in the other. “I just found this. Must be what Rick was yelling about what gave Dex the shits. Like I have extra bone-in ribeyes lying around to feed a measly mutt who hates me anyway. Besides, I wouldn’t be so cruel. I knew damn well about his condition.”
She took the bone from his hand. “T-Bone.”
“Huh?”
“It’s a T-Bone steak bone.” It was her father’s favorite meal. “Where did you find this?”
“In there. It was lying in my bowl.”
“In the yard?”
“Yes ma’am.” Larson’s eyes flicked to her breasts and back.
“And what kind of condition did Dex have?” she asked.
“Some sort of red meat allergy or deficiency or something? I don’t know. Dog can’t eat meat or it gives him the shits. Can be life-threatening, I guess. Rick told me all about it before I left. I may be a bit blind but I ain’t deaf. I didn’t feed him no T-bone.”
She remembered back to that morning when they had come here the first time. The dog had gone to the bathroom twice while they were there. Now that she thought about it, it had seemed like it was not feeling well. She looked inside at an array of feces around the yard. She was no veterinarian, but they did not look healthy as far as dog poop went.
Ned was still going on about the steak.
“Sir,” she said.
“What?”
“What usually happens when you come up to this fence? I mean, when you come over to feed Dex, does he bark at you?”
“Yeah. Barks like a guy with his nuts—”
“—Okay, yeah. And what happens when you feed him the food?”
Ned shrugged. “He eats it.”
“And he stops barking?”
“Yeah. That’s the only way to stop him.”
“And what time did you hear Dex barking Monday night?”
“Shit, I don’t know. It was late. Like midnight? One?”
She walked to the fence and eyed the woodpile standing alongside the house. At least twenty feet separated it from the fence line. All territory that would have had to be crossed by somebody planting a gun inside the property.
“Thanks,” she said, holding up the steak bone and hopping back into her Jeep.
She sped away, leaving Ned Larson with his shiny bowl and a puzzled look on his face. She was so excited to get to Lonnie’s Market on Main Street that she failed to take notice of the pickup truck pass her at the top of the hill.
Chapter 27
Wolf sat staring out his office window at the Rocky Points resort. He’d spent the morning in the gym doing a vigorous weights workout that would undoubtedly leave him immobile come tomorrow. The workout had stirred up a ravenous appetite and now he sat in a post-lunch haze.
His cell phone vibrated and rang on his desk.
He picked it up, reading a non-Colorado number. “Sheriff Wolf here.”
"Hey, Sheriff Wolf. Sheriff Domino with Teton County Sheriff’s Department here.”
“Good to finally talk with you.”
“ So you have some action involving our boys down there, eh?” Domino said. “It’s a shame about Chris, but I have to say I expected some sort of violent end for that boy. Kid was always a bad seed. Once you get to know his parents, you start to understand why.”
“One of my detectives has been trying to get hold of them,” Wolf said. “They weren’t answering so he called to get you guys to help on that matter.”
“Yeah. They know about his death,” Domino said. “They just don’t care. The two of them are career alcoholics and never lifted a finger as far as raising him went, unless it was out of anger. His father was one of those guys who opened the bar every day and shut it down every night. His mother worked at that bar.”
“And now?” Wolf asked.
“Now…I don’t know what they do. Drink.”
“So how about Chris?” Wolf asked. “What’s his story?”
“As far as I could tell, his mom and dad would whip on him pretty good. We were once called there on a domestic. His father had called us. His old lady was beating them all up. That was … let’s see … must have been back when Chris was in middle school. He never pressed charges, and Chris had no visible marks on him. But I suspected he was getting hit by her. At the very least, he suffered major emotional abuse.
“A few years after that, when Oakley was in high school, we started having regular run-ins with him for fighting. Like mother, like son.”
“And how about the others?” Wolf asked. “I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on the living.”
“Right,” Domino said with a sigh. “Well, first thing is, you have Kevin Koling and Chris Oakley, and then you have Eagle McBeth and James Sexton. It’s not a group of four of them as much as two groups of two. Oakley and Koling were inseparable in high school, and they graduated three years before the other two. I know a lot less about McBeth and Sexton. They were good kids who generally stayed out of trouble.”
Sheriff Domino took a sip of something and shuffled some papers. “I’ve sent you these files by the way through InterDocs.”
Wolf went to his email and logged in to see the files. “Thanks, got em’ right here.”
“Let’s start with Koling,” Domino said. “You can see he had one aggravated assault when he was a senior in high school, which had everything to do with Oakley. Oakley was the bully in town, and Koling was his sidekick. Wherever there was a high school party out in the sticks, there was an Oakley assault and Koling at his side. Koling was always guilty by association.
“Oakley’s record
does not reflect the trouble he used to get in. Like I said, the assaults and threats to others were the main problem. I’ve personally put him in jail twice, and he had a DUI five years ago. He squeaked out of serving his full sentence.”
"How about McBeth and Sexton?" Wolf asked. There were no links next to their names, which meant there were no official records.
"Like I said, those two were different. They're three years younger and kept their noses out of trouble, generally because they worked for a living growing up, and didn’t dink around town getting in fights.”
“So how do these four guys hook up?” Wolf asked. “I don’t get it.”
“McBeth’s mother and father own—owned—the Triple-O ranch up here in Jackson. The ranch is a huge mainstay of the Teton Valley. Has been for quite a while now. James Sexton, he’s an interesting fellow. He was part of the foster system up in Driggs, Idaho, and he moved over here and started working at the McBeth Ranch when he was in high school. The McBeth ranch takes in all sorts of people. Every year paying tourists come to the ranch to do the dude ranch thing. You know, like the City Slickers movie and all.”
“Right,” Wolf said.
“And then there are the employees of the ranch. They’re quite a varied bunch, from all walks of life and from all corners of the globe. And, back then, we used to give credit for community service to those completing work programs at the ranch. That’s where Chris Oakley and Kevin Koling come into the picture. Eagle McBeth was already working there, it was his family ranch. So was James Sexton, he’d come in there sometime before from the foster system. A different program I’m not familiar with. Koling and Oakley came in on a court-ordered work program for community service for beating up a kid up near String Lake.”
“I see,” Wolf said. “Although they still seem like opposite types of kids to me.”
“I think it was the traumatizing events surrounding McBeth’s father that made them close.”
“What traumatizing events?”
Domino paused for a beat. “Have you ever seen McBeth’s arm?”
“I have,” Wolf said. “There’s a big scar. Interlocking rings, or something.”
