by Jeff Carson
Hood narrowed his eyes. “Not as good a hostage.”
“Why?”
Hood lowered the gun.
Wolf took a few steps forward and stopped in line with the rear of the trailer. His arms were out, and he flipped his palms to the sky. “What do you say?”
Hood was thinking, calculating. His eyes blinked rapidly. He gripped and re-gripped the gun.
Wolf saw the white tension in Hood’s trigger finger and realized his own breathing had ceased. Despite the adrenaline coursing through is veins, he felt suddenly, completely exhausted. Like he was teetering on stilts.
The girl watched him. She closed her eyes, and her face twisted as she began to cry.
“Shut up!” Hood shook her.
The sight cooled Wolf’s blood. “Come on, let’s do this. I’ll get the helicopter to land right over there, okay? We’ll make everyone but the pilot get off. Me and you will walk over there, hop on the chopper, and take a ride.”
“Then what?” Hood shook his head. “You ever heard of anyone getting away like that?”
The girl whimpered.
“Shut up!”
“It’s okay, honey,” Wolf said. “Just calm down, okay? Just close your eyes and take deep breaths, and this will all be over soon.”
The girl did as she was told.
“This is screwed up,” said Hood.
Wolf nodded. “Let me be your guy. I’ll call the chopper now. We’ll have him hop us down to Mexico. Once you get there, extradition’s a bitch. With everything that’s been going on politically, you think Mexico’s ready to cooperate with a few hillbillies up in Colorado? Hell no.”
Hood looked him in the eye.
Wolf nodded. “I’m taking the radio off my belt.”
Hood remained almost still. His grip on the gun had steadied, and he looked at the ground, as if considering Wolf’s proposal.
Wolf had to keep the situation moving. Stagnancy was death.
He brought the handheld to his mouth. “MacLean, do you copy?”
Come on.
“Copy. What the hell’s going on down there with that psycho?”
Wolf cringed. “Change of plan. I need you to come pick me and Hood up in the chopper. I’m here right now, talking with Hood and the girl.”
Silence.
“Do you copy?”
“I copy … and what are we doing?”
Wolf nodded again, looking Hood in the eye. “We’re going to leap it down to Juarez, Mexico. We’ll have to refuel in Santa Fe, and probably somewhere just this side of the border. I want you to get that going. But in the meantime, I want you to come in from the west, directly over us from the west, and land in the meadow to the east of the trailer. Do you copy?”
Another few seconds of silence, and then MacLean said, “Copy that. It’s going to take some doing on the refuels, but … I’ll work on it.”
The volume of the rotors increased, and the helicopter appeared behind Wolf, far in the distance over the SUV. He saw Patterson’s face poking out, and Alexander’s above hers.
The bird skimmed the sky from right to left. As it disappeared again behind the mountain next to the road, the sound was snuffed out.
He turned back to Hood. “Okay. Here they come.”
The girl’s eyes were wide with hope. She shuffled her feet, and Wolf noticed she’d wet herself. The sight sent a spear through his heart.
“Hood. Come on. Let her go now. Let her go to my deputy back there by the SUV. I’ll stay right here with you. Okay?”
Hood lifted his arm so the girl was no longer in a headlock, but he clamped a hand on her shoulder.
“Come on.” Wolf narrowed his eyes with the most earnest look he could muster. He fought the tension in his chest, willing his lungs to relax as he spoke. “Point the gun at me now.”
Hood raised the barrel towards Wolf.
“That’s it.” Wolf nodded. “I’m your guy.”
Wolf ignored the black hole of the barrel, and looked straight into Hood’s eyes. “Thank you.”
The girl stepped forward and ducked, and Hood’s hand came free from her shoulder.
“Go on, honey,” Wolf said. “You can go now. Go to the car back there.”
The girl walked fast toward Wolf. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she passed.
“Run, baby.”
She ran past him.
Hood blinked, and his face twisted, as if realizing he’d been duped.
“No!” Wolf yelled. He pointed up into the sky with wide eyes. “There! Here it is!”
Hood looked up.
There was nothing there. The ruse had clearly pissed him off—his lips downturned and he raised his weapon, aiming carefully at Wolf’s chest.
The helicopter came over the top of the mountain, and hovered overhead. The noise came out of nowhere, like a bomb.
“See?” Wolf sidestepped to stay in front of the muzzle.
Hood looked up again. This time he had to twist his head almost backward to see it.
Wolf dove his hand into his pants and pulled out the Glock.
He raised the gun and aimed, but just before he pulled the trigger, gunshots rang out from behind and blood spurted from Hood’s chest.
Hood dropped like his legs had disappeared.
Wolf turned around. The shots had come from Ryder.
“Hold your fire!”
The officer lowered his weapon and rolled onto his back.
Wolf ran forward and kicked the weapon from Hood’s hand.
Hood’s lips were moving.
“You piece of shit,” Wolf said with a voice shaking with rage.
Behind him by the SUV, the girl was trying to escape Patterson’s clutches, screaming at the top of her lungs, though he couldn’t make out what she was saying above the noise of the helicopter and the pounding in his ears.
Wolf knelt next to Hood, making sure he was close in case there was more fight in the man. “You piece of shit.”
Hood coughed, and warm blood spattered Wolf’s face.
“I … done it again.”
Wolf ignored him.
A man came tumbling out of the passenger door of the truck. “Is she okay? Is my daughter okay?”
“She’s okay.” Wolf pointed back, realizing the girl had been yelling for her father.
The man sprinted to his daughter. The girl broke from Patterson and dove into her dad’s embrace.
“That asshole …”
Wolf looked down at Hood. His chin was covered in blood. The hole in the center of his chest spat like a geyser, but still his lips were moving like a fish out of water. He was determined to speak.
“That ass … hole … called my daddy a liar and a cheat.” Hood’s throat gurgled. “If I could bash his head in all over again … I would.” He smiled, showing red teeth. “He … dead now.”
“Yeah,” Wolf said. “And how about your best friend? What did he do to you?”
Hood’s smile vanished.
“Yeah. I don’t think it’s that funny killing people either.”
“What … happened …” Hood said.
Wolf shook his head and stood up. He took deep breaths to stave off the light-headedness. When was the last time he’d inhaled?
“… Chris … dead …”
Wolf looked down. “Now it’s time for you to join him.”
Hood closed his eyes and did as he was told.
Chapter 32
Wolf’s bed shook as Drifter whimpered in his sleep. The dog’s legs kicked, perhaps chasing a rabbit in dreamland.
He’d never seen a dog with so much balled-up energy in a dead sleep. Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a puppy.
Maddie had been the name of his golden retriever growing up. He’d been too young to remember when his family had gotten her. She’d simply always been there in Wolf’s childhood.
He stared at the fan twirling on the ceiling and allowed his mind to wander for the next half-hour … his mother screaming at him for
feeding Maddie a bag of Twizzlers and the trip to the vet …. the vet who’d come over to the ranch and look after the cattle … Wolf and his father riding horses along the fence line, the calf stuck in the barbed wire, and how he and his father had wrestled with it, untangling the hoof.
Before he knew it, the sun was back up.
And so was Drifter.
“You gotta pee?”
Drifter jumped off the bed and wagged his tail.
Wolf stared at him. Straight out of a night’s sleep, he was a mellow dog. Last night, when he’d picked him up from Nate’s, Britt had all but thrown Drifter into his arms. Drifter had peed three times inside the Watson house and had demonstrated a taste for wooden furniture legs.
Drifter barked.
“Come on.”
Wolf slipped on his jeans and a flannel and went to the front door. He considered letting the dog out unattended but remembered Jack’s warning—He’ll just run away.
They went out into the cool morning air and stood in the front yard, both relieving their bladders.
Wolf watched the dog run circles, blocked him as he raked Wolf’s legs with his claws, and ended up tethering near the barn with bowls of kibble and water.
The morning went faster than the night had as he busied himself inside with chores. He wanted it to look like he kept a spotless house, just in case they came in. He spent the afternoon outside, preparing.
By two, Wolf had completed his digging and removed the leash from Drifter’s neck. The dog went far and fast, but always stayed within sight.
As four o’clock neared, he shoveled the last of the broken bottles from the side of the house into the barrow and wheeled it back to the barn. He’d finish that chore later.
It was time.
He felt as if he were suspended over a ravine, with somebody set to drop him at any moment, but he didn’t know when.
3:55 p.m.
“Drifter!”
The dog was sniffing something in the field.
He took the dog by the collar and walked towards the house.
Drifter followed without protest and Wolf put him inside the doorway and pointed at him. “Take a nap.”
Drifter looked past him and tilted his head.
A vehicle came into view and Wolf shut the door.
Lauren had been driving an Audi the last he’d known. Now, a big pickup truck barreled down the drive, kicking up a plume of dust.
The sun reflected off the windshield, obscuring the occupants.
He checked his watch. 4:02—suspiciously punctual.
Still, his breathing calmed. The moment he’d been dreading seemed to have been postponed for the time being.
The truck turned, and his heart leaped. Ella looked out at him from the rear window.
He walked forward on numb legs, watching as they parked.
Lauren and Ella climbed out of the tall truck.
Ella landed on sure feet, slammed the door, and turned to him.
She smiled, and his own mouth stretched wide.
Her red hair was darker now. And longer, pulled out of her face and clipped against her head. Her eyes were just as big, squinting as she showed her smile was just as bright.
She jogged to him, and he moved toward her.
Then he stopped. He was not supposed to do this. He was supposed to be distant, to keep it to clipped, short sentences. To—
Her feet thumped up and she latched onto him, hugging tight around his waist.
“Hi.” He returned the hug and looked up to see Lauren rounding the rear of the truck.
He expected concern to etch her face, but she stood and looked out on the landscape, pointedly ignoring Ella’s interaction with him as if it were none of her business.
Ella let go and walked back to her mother, as if she’d just finished something pre-planned.
Wolf followed her.
Lauren’s hair was shorter, cut in a bob, also colored darker. Her eyes were as green as ever, but there was no smile stretching her pretty, freckled face as she turned toward him.
“Hi, David.”
“Hi.”
She pulled her bangs behind her ear and gestured to the truck bed. “Thanks for agreeing to do this.”
“Of course.” He popped open the tailgate, noting the rental plates.
“He was too big to fit in my car,” she said.
Wolf lowered the gate and believed it when he saw the dog casket. It was at least five feet long, half that wide and tall.
“It’s big, I know. That’s all they had at the place I went to. Had to get the two neighbor guys to help me load it.”
“No sweat. One second.” Wolf walked to the edge of the barn and upturned the wheelbarrow. The glass crashed into the dirt. He brushed the remaining slivers out of the bed and returned, noting how Ella took special interest in the pile of glass behind him. She was still the most inquisitive person he’d ever met.
Drifter barked inside, and her head whipped around. “Is that a dog?”
Wolf smiled. “Yeah.”
Lauren had turned and wrestled Jet’s casket into position.
Wolf pictured the dog inside, old and thin. According to Lauren’s text messages, Jet had fought the cancer long and hard, but the German shepherd had lost the battle two days earlier.
With strained muscles, still aching from the motorcycle adventure, Wolf tipped Jet’s coffin onto the wheelbarrow bed, then slowly lowered it with Lauren’s help. They worked in unison without speaking. They’d always worked well as a team.
Lauren backed away and looked around. “Where do you …”
He nodded into the distance. “I’ve prepared a hole over there.” He pointed at the lone pine at the edge of the meadow.
“That’s where he always used to sit,” Ella said. “He’d watch me practice my cartwheels.”
Wolf nodded. “That’s what I was thinking when I chose that spot.”
Ella looked toward the door again as Drifter barked inside.
Wolf lifted the wheelbarrow and pushed it through the bumpy field. Their separation was palpable. Lauren and Ella followed a good distance behind.
They reached the tree and Wolf set down the handles.
They shuffled and grunted, and finally Jet’s casket was lowered into the hole.
While digging that afternoon, Wolf had wondered if he’d been overzealous. Now he wished he’d added an extra six inches on all sides.
But the old boy fit.
Wolf grabbed the shovel leaning against the tree.
“Wait,” Ella said. “I wanted to say some things I wrote down.” She pulled a folded piece of paper out of pocket and waved it at Wolf.
He nodded. “Yes, of course. That’s a good idea.”
She stood at the hole’s edge. “Jet. You were a good dog. You always followed me wherever I went. You always played when I wanted to. Or you watched while I did if you didn’t want to. You tooted a lot.” She smiled and looked up at Wolf and Lauren.
They smiled in turn, though Lauren kept her eyes glued to the earth.
“And you always went crazy at raccoons. And …” Ella sniffed, and tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m going to miss you. A lot.”
Wolf felt an electric jolt as Ella looked up at him.
“But it’s okay,” she said. “Because, as my mommy says, all good things must come to an end. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t good.” She looked back down at the paper and found her place. “So we say goodbye, and remember the fun times we had. And we leave you here … forever … but we’ll see you again up in heaven.”
She folded the paper and shoved it back in her pocket.
Wolf’s eyes slid to Lauren. She was looking at him.
Drifter barked again, louder than before.
They all turned as the bug screen on Wolf’s bedroom window hit the ground. Drifter’s head jammed outside and disappeared.
“Oh, he’s a German shepherd! He’s a puppy!” Ella walked toward the house like she was hooked in a tractor beam.
“Do you want to see him?” Wolf asked.
She turned. “Yes. Can I?”
He nodded. “Go let him out before he breaks down a wall.”
She ran.
“His name is Drifter!”
“Drifter!” she said in mid-stride.
Wolf pushed the dirt onto the casket.
Lauren stood by his side, watching in silence as he finished the job.
“You look good,” she said.
He stood tall, leaning on the shovel.
“Tired. But good.”
He nodded. “Thanks. You do too. You both look great.”
Lauren looked at the fresh earth mound. “Thanks so much. I wasn’t sure if you were going to answer me.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that. But … I didn’t feel like …”
“Like what?”
He looked toward the house. “Like letting Ella down again.”
She shook her head. “You never let her down. I never let her down. It’s nobody’s fault we didn’t work out. It’s just … life.”
He nodded. “I think she just said it best.”
Ella was on her hands and feet, butt in the air. Drifter jumped up onto her back, sending her head first to the ground.
“My God,” Lauren said, shaking her head. “I forgot how crazy puppies are.”
“Yeah.”
She sucked in a breath and let it out. “I’m not sure I can handle one of those things rampaging around the house. But there’s no way I can say no to her.”
“You’re getting a puppy?”
She smiled. “Yeah.”
“You’re going to get one. You haven’t gotten one yet.”
“Yes.” She narrowed her eyes. “What? Why?”
“Please.” He stood in front of her. “I beg of you. If you’re serious, please consider taking this dog.”
She blinked. A smile cracked through her confusion.
“I would pay you. A large sum of money.”
She laughed. “What’s going on with this dog? You have to explain.”
He explained the Jack and Cassidy story.
“They’re having a baby?”
He nodded.
“Oh, David, that’s so wonderful.”
“It is.”
“So …” She looked at Ella and Drifter. “You really are serious.”
