by Jeff Carson
“Ask him. He knows. I never played growing up.”
“They sell baseball bats at the store,” Rachette said.
Eli frowned. “So?”
“Brenda’s saying you got in her face,” Patterson said. “That you were threatening her.”
Eli’s expression soured. “What the hell?”
“Were you drunk at that time?” Rachette asked. “When you visited her?”
Eli looked annoyed at the shift in questioning. “At her house? No. Of course not. I was driving.”
Rachette put a hand on the table. “We saw a broken branch outside her house where you hit the tree. There’s a corresponding scrape on your car.”
“I peeled out and got a little out of control. I was emotional. She’d just said some seriously hurtful things and then chased me outside with a baseball bat.”
The room fell silent as they watched Eli glare back at them.
Patterson had that unimpressed droop to her eyelids.
“Okay.” Rachette held up his hands. “Let’s fast forward. Past a few ounces of whiskey. Do you remember shooting at us?”
“Yeah. Kind of.” He nodded as if he were contemplating going another direction. “Yes, I do. But I swear, I thought you guys were her brother.”
“We were in a maroon SUV decked out with roof antennas and a light bar inside the windshield.”
Eli frowned. “An unmarked?”
Rachette smiled. “You shot at our vehicle. You were hitting the neighbor’s house with shot. You could have killed us and seriously hurt your neighbors.”
“Man, I’m telling you. Brenda.” His face slackened. “She called me. That’s why I was freaking out. She called me and told me that her brother was on his way. I remember seeing she was calling and thinking she was going to forgive me. But she was just telling me her brother was on his way over. I told her to go screw herself, that I’d shoot him if he did.” Eli grasped at the air, pleading. “That’s why I was so freaked out. That’s why I started shooting. I knew he was coming over. I got my gun out and loaded it. I was waiting in the living room, hoping he wouldn’t come.”
“And you continued to drink,” Patterson said.
“I’m not a good stopper once I get going.”
Patterson and Rachette sat quietly.
“I swear.” Eli began to cry. “That’s what happened. Shit, I don’t understand what’s going on.”
Patterson stood and made for the door.
“We’ll talk to you later,” Rachette said, following her out into the cell-block hallway.
“You can put him back,” she said to Deputy Barber.
Rachette walked double time to catch up. “What’s up?”
“What’s up? That guy’s a lying sack of shit, that’s what’s up.” She stabbed the up button with something resembling one of her karate death-pokes.
“He had an unexpected angle on the situation, I’ll give you that.” He stepped inside the elevator and pressed the third floor.
“Unexpected angle? That’s the expected angle of a wife beater with a psychotic streak capable of murder.”
They rode in silence.
The door opened and Rachette sucked in a breath of relief as they stepped into the natural light bouncing through the upper hallways of HQ.
Down the corridor, Wilson walked out of Sheriff MacLean’s office and disappeared into the squad room.
“Wilson!”
Wilson backed into view, eyebrows raised.
“Hold up!”
Rachette left Patterson and walked toward the undersheriff. “We just got done talking to Eli Banks.”
“Oh yeah? He finally sobered up?”
“Did you bag that baseball bat at Brenda Mendelsen’s place after we left?”
Wilson frowned. “Of course I did.”
“Did you order print work?”
Wilson’s eyes glazed over. “No. Not yet. Lab was closed yesterday afternoon. And with the Luke car accident last night I forgot to tell them this morning.”
Rachette turned toward Patterson. “Detective Rachette, on the case.”
“You think Eli’s prints aren’t on that baseball bat?”
Rachette shrugged. “You heard the man—he never even played the sport.”
She rolled her eyes.
“What are you two talking about?”
Rachette turned to Wilson. “Eli says he didn’t bash up Brenda’s place. And I gotta say, the man looks like he’s telling the truth.”
“The guy was plastered, doesn’t remember anything, and now he’s making stuff up on the spot,” said Patterson.
“I don’t know.”
Patterson lifted her chin and gazed out the windows.
“He says he didn’t threaten her,” Rachette said. “Because he’s afraid of her brother. You ever met him?”
Wilson snorted. “Yes. Big-ass, muscular guy. Very dangerous man. I’m glad he lives in Ashland.”
“And do you remember that awkward hug she gave Wolf?” Rachette asked.
Patterson made a choking sound. “My God, what are you talking about now?”
“I’m serious. Wilson, do you remember?”
“He’s actually recalling something correctly there. She did hug him for a good few seconds longer than awkward.”
“How long should a woman hug somebody who’s rescuing them from a violent encounter from her boyfriend?” She looked at them in turn. “What’s the protocol with that? Is there some sort of man handbook I can consult?”
“Okay, okay.” Rachette held up a hand. “Just … I think it’s time we put in the order for that baseball bat.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Wilson said. “You two need to get to the hospital and pick up Lorber’s final report on the car Luke was driving.”
“Did he find anything new?” she asked.
“No.”
“Okay. You guys ever heard of email?”
“You ever heard of a ten-gig file?” Wilson raised an eyebrow.
“You ever heard—”
Rachette turned his partner away and led her down the hall. “We’ll go get it. You order that bat checked out.”
“Will do,” Wilson said.
They walked back toward the elevators and Rachette looked at Patterson.
“Bet lunch on it?”
“On whether or not a woman was assaulted by her boyfriend?”
“Technically, he never touched her.”
“No thanks.”
“Okay, six-pack then.”
She rolled her eyes. “Lorber could drop that file in an online folder and we could log in and download it.”
“Yeah, and you could shut up.” He checked his watch. “We have an hour until our shift’s done, and then two days off for Wolf’s wedding. I plan on hitting the bar as soon as possible. You can drop me off on the way back.”
“Daddy of the year.”
The jab hit him deep, tweaking that defensive button grown sensitive by having a stay-away father his whole life.
“Sorry,” she said.
“If you’ve only seen the daddy action going on in our house the last three months. I’m the freakin’ Godfather.”
“Terrible example.”
“Charlotte gave me the next two nights to let loose and, by God, I’m going to hit Beer Goggles tonight. And then it’s the party of the century tomorrow.”
“If Wolf shows up for his own wedding, yeah.”
“We stick around here, and we’re gonna get roped into some BS paperwork.”
“After you.”
He was already inside the elevator.
Chapter 22
Wolf followed Luke, Earnshaw, and Nackley down the hospital hallway and eyed his phone. The upper floors had given his cell reception a boost and he’d called Lauren twice, both times leaving messages that had gone unanswered.
When it came to his present company, talking was getting them nowhere. If driving a couple of hours east into the Cascades was the only way to close in on the tr
uth of what happened to Kristen Luke, then bring it on.
He could research airline flight scenarios in the car. He’d land in Denver, which meant he’d need a ride. Jack could pick him up, or maybe Nate. Rachette had been threatening to drink enough to kill a horse tonight, so he was out.
“You okay?” Luke eyed him as they descended into a large atrium.
He nodded.
The space echoed with conversation and the sound of children playing.
Shops lined one wall, including a coffee bar and cafeteria.
“The cafeteria will do,” Luke said, leading the way inside.
They lined up for pizza by the slice behind a family of three raucous kids and two exhausted-looking parents.
Wolf checked his phone again.
“Waiting for a call?” Earnshaw asked.
He shook his head and pocketed the phone. Luke had taken up the rear and stared out into the seating area. He followed her eyes, and saw her focusing on a kid wearing a hooded sweatshirt, seated alone at a table.
“You okay?” he asked.
Her lips were moving but no sound came out.
“Hey.” He poked her in the shoulder. “What’s up?”
“That kid.”
“What’s happening?” Earnshaw asked.
“I don’t know,” Wolf said. “That kid? What about him?”
Luke blinked, and her gaze stretched to a thousand miles. “I remember something else.”
“Four pepperonis?” Nackley asked. “Hey, we’re up.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Earnshaw said. “You get this. We’re going to sit down.”
They took Luke to a table. Her eyes kept moving back to the kid with the sweatshirt.
“What do you remember?” Earnshaw sat and leaned toward her. “What’s with that kid?”
“He’s the reason I was following Swain in the first place.”
“That kid?” Earnshaw turned.
“No. Not him.”
Nackley showed up with a tray full of pizza and drinks. “I got four Cokes. You have a problem with that, you can go get whatever you want.” When nobody acknowledged him, he asked, “What’s going on?”
Earnshaw held up a hand. “Tell us, Kristen. What kid?”
Luke focused. “The day after Hooper’s death, we had that big meeting. And a kid came into HQ in a sweatshirt, the hood pulled up. He looked right at me, then he left. I was leaving anyway, to go to the coffee shop across the street, so I followed him out.”
“Hooper’s death?” Wolf asked.
Three pairs of eyes locked on him.
“You haven’t told him about Hooper’s death?” Luke asked.
“No. They haven’t told me about Hooper’s death. Or who Hooper was.”
“Special Agent Hooper,” Earnshaw said, “was found murdered on the beach last weekend, Sunday night—shot and killed by a Chung Do gang member.”
Wolf leaned back in his chair.
“Chung Do member was found dead, too. Shot once in the chest.” Luke began to chew on a slice of pizza.
“The gun found in the Chung Do member’s hand shot Special Agent Hooper,” Earnshaw said. “The bullet found in the Chung Do’s chest came from Hooper’s gun. It’s confirmed.”
“I take it Chung Do is the name of the gang,” Wolf said.
“Yes.” Earnshaw put his elbows on the table.
“What?” Wolf asked. Luke looked desperate to say something.
“There’s more,” she said. “That same morning, Seattle FBI received an anonymous tip via their website, instructing them to go to a warehouse in the industrial district. They did. Eight Chung Do members had been slain, shot execution style.”
Earnshaw pulled his pizza toward him. “We found two rival gang calling cards.”
“What kind of calling cards?” Wolf asked.
“Aces of spades,” Nackley said.
Wolf raised an eyebrow.
“Ace High West,” Luke said. “One of the bigger gangs we contend with on a daily basis.”
“Drugs and guns,” Earnshaw said. “But Chung Do deals with human trafficking, sex-slave trading.”
“Jesus,” Wolf said under his breath.
“Yeah,” Earnshaw said. “Real assholes. We weren’t too bent out of shape to see eight of them with their heads blown out. We found fifteen kids locked in the office.”
Wolf held his breath. “Are they okay?”
“Yeah,” Earnshaw said. “They’re fine. Well, not fine after what those guys put them through. But they’re free.”
“And those killings happened the same night Hooper was killed on the beach?” Wolf asked.
“Yep,” said Earnshaw.
“Why was Hooper out on that beach with one of the Chung Do that night?” Wolf asked.
Earnshaw raised his hands. “That’s the question. We think the gang member must have been an informant, and they were having a meeting.” He shrugged. “Something went wrong, and they shot and killed each other.”
“Or not,” Luke said.
They looked at her.
She raked her eyes over them. “Like I was saying about the kid. I followed him, but I lost him. He disappeared into the rush-hour crowd outside.” She shrugged. “So, I went over to the coffee shop.”
She took two bites and swallowed them down with Coke.
Earnshaw pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. “You went to the coffee shop, and?”
“Yeah. And then that kid came in while I waited in line. He came up, leaned into my ear, and told me that my partner was dangerous. That he’d seen him shoot that Chinese guy at the beach.”
Earnshaw lowered his phone. It rang and he ended the call. “He witnessed Hooper’s death?”
Nackley dropped his pizza and leaned forward, wiping his mouth.
Luke stared through the table. “He said he saw my partner do it. I thought the kid meant I was Hooper’s partner, you know? Like, he’d seen Hooper shoot the man on the beach. So I told him, no, that wasn’t my partner. But he went all crazy, and I realized I’d been speaking to Swain when the kid had come into HQ. The kid had stared straight at me, then left. He’d been talking about Swain.”
Earnshaw and Nackley frowned.
“How does that make any sense?” Earnshaw asked.
“No shit. That was my question, but the kid bolted before I could get him to explain. I went after him, and right when I got to the door, Swain was walking inside. The kid had seen Swain coming in. That’s why he bolted.”
The table fell silent.
“So what did you do?” Earnshaw asked.
“Nothing. Not at the time. I was spooked. It didn’t make much sense to me, but I wasn’t going to bring it up with Swain. There was a chance the kid was telling the truth.”
“Why didn’t you come to me with this?” Earnshaw asked. “There was a witness to Hooper’s death and you didn’t say anything?”
Luke lowered her Coke and her eyes glazed over again. “I never did?”
“No. You never did.”
She fell silent.
“I take it that’s the last of your new memories?” Wolf asked.
She put a hand to her head and leaned her elbow on the table. “I can’t remember what happened after that. I remember … running across the street. I …” She looked up, like she might have a new spark, then shook her head. “I don’t remember.”
Earnshaw eyed Nackley and leaned back in his chair. He picked up his phone and stood. “I have to make a call.”
Wolf, Nackley, and Luke ate their food without talking.
Outside the cafeteria, Earnshaw paced by the windows, talking heatedly into the phone.
Wolf lip-read a couple expletives but failed to catch any substance of the conversation.
“You said you were following Swain in an alley,” Wolf said.
She finished chewing the last of her pizza and nodded. “I did.”
“But you can’t remember anything more specific than that?”
“No.”
<
br /> Earnshaw ended his call, walked over, and sat down. “What are we talking about?”
“I was mentioning how she remembers following Swain in the alley.”
Earnshaw looked at Luke. “And?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Makes sense to me that you’d check on Swain,” Wolf said. “Like you said, you didn’t want to make waves with the news of the witness.”
“Could have been some junkie looking for some attention,” Earnshaw said.
Wolf nodded. “Exactly. But, then again, you couldn’t ignore it.”
“I agree. And it would fit why you remember following Swain. Maybe he spotted you following him. Maybe … I don’t know …”
Wolf looked at Earnshaw. “You said they called and told you they were going out east. That they were following a lead. When was that?”
“Three days ago.”
“What lead exactly?”
Earnshaw shook his head. “It was a false lead. They were going to check on a family called the Wannamakers in connection with some gun thefts from last year. When Luke and Swain went off the map and failed to check in the next day, we went straight to that family’s property. A place out in the Cascades. But there was an elderly couple living there, like I said earlier.”
“Then why were Swain and Luke led there?”
Earnshaw shook his head and looked at Luke. “Let me guess, you don’t remember.”
“I don’t remember the gun thefts as a topic of conversation in my division for months.”
Wolf flicked his eyes to Earnshaw.
The SSA’s eyes were wide now. “Wait a minute. I never talked to you. I only spoke to Swain that day you called me.” Earnshaw sat back heavily. “What if you followed him and confronted him about the witness? Maybe he got angry. Maybe he took you out east or something. You have the marks on your wrists.”
Nackley leaned back and folded his arms, watching his boss closely. “Makes sense. You escape somehow. And he shoots you. Then you steal a car out there.”
Wolf sat silently, watching everyone’s imagination contort their faces.
“Then you drive to Rocky Points,” he said.
They looked at him.
“Maybe I was scared he was on my tail.” Luke stared through the table again. “Maybe I thought he could cut me off before I got help, and decided to go the opposite way he expected.”
