by Joseph Flynn
“Burkett is where?” Chief Ketchum asked Sergeant Stanley.
He, Keely, Tall Wolf and Benjamin had just returned to police headquarters.
The sergeant pointed to a spot on a map of Lake Adeline. “The deputy chief said he’s right here, on the shoreline side of this little island. Thing’s so small nobody ever bothered to give it a name.”
“So they don’t know exactly where he is,” Keely said. “He could be on the island or he could be on, what, the mainland side.”
“That’s a cove, ma’am. The land rises sharply on all sides. It’s a climb you’d have to be an expert to make.”
Benjamin asked, “Do we know if Burkett is an expert climber?”
Sergeant Stanley blushed, and shook his head.
“Chief?” Benjamin asked.
Ron said, “I have no idea.”
Tall Wolf raised a contrarian point of view. “Maybe running isn’t what he has in mind. In the end, he can go only so far, remain free for just so long. Could be he’s thinking of making a last stand. What if he’s stashed some weapons on that island? Would he have the cover to hold out and do damage to both people and the environment before he was taken?”
Ron nodded, envisioning the scenario.
“He’d have cover, and every halfwit in the country can buy all the assault weapons he wants. We didn’t find any firearms in his boat, but you’re right, he could have a hidden cache.”
All three of the police department’s patrol boats were already out on the lake.
The chief asked Sergeant Stanley, “Do you still have the keys to the mayor’s boat?”
The sergeant had only begun to nod when the deputy chief’s voice, filled with alarm, came over the radio. “Jesus Christ! We’ve just had a big damn explosion out here. Don’t know if Burkett just killed himself or what. I’ve got to check on my people. Request air support immediately.”
Ron grabbed the radio’s microphone.
“Air support on the way, Oliver. I’m coming, too.”
Ron wanted to go alone, but Tall Wolf reminded the chief that he’d done the online course in bomb disposal, and he was a good shot with a rifle. The special agent’s skill set qualified him to come along and carry an M-4 rifle. This time, Tall Wolf didn’t object to the weapon’s massive firepower; he welcomed it.
Benjamin didn’t push for a berth. Might have been maternal thinking that influenced her. Could have been she knew she wasn’t a great swimmer. Or maybe she just had a bad feeling how things were going to work out.
Keely wanted to come. She got in Ron’s face.
“We were partners, and if we’re going to be partners again …”
Completing the thought wasn’t necessary.
And Ron didn’t want to lose time arguing.
“You want a rifle, too?” he asked.
“I do my best work up close.” She put a hand on her Beretta.
“Right.”
Mayor Clay Steadman was the only civilian allowed to tie up his boat at the police dock. He didn’t indulge himself with a freshwater yacht or a contemporary racing boat. His marine esthetic expressed itself with a classic wooden-hulled speedboat, a 1939 Century Thunderbolt, fifteen point five feet of sculpted mahogany beauty with a Fireball Six outboard, capable of doing a top-end speed of fifty miles per hour.
The tiny cockpit had only two bench seats and with Ron at the helm that left Keely sitting on Tall Wolf’s lap. As soon as Ron cleared the marina, he hit the gas and the Thunderbolt roared across the lake.
Keely started bouncing on Tall Wolf’s lap and grabbed his left arm. Pulled it across her waist like a seatbelt. Told him to keep it there.
“I’d be embarrassed if I fell out,” she yelled in his ear.
At the very least, Tall Wolf thought.
“Try not to let your gun go off, huh?” she added.
The way her bottom was bumping up against him, he assumed she meant that metaphorically. Would have been funny if someone wasn’t likely to die soon.
Air support was not on the way, contrary to Chief Ketchum’s promise.
Fire Chief Vern Kasen had overruled him. Kasen held sway over medevac flights, and twelve minutes before the cops put in their call for the chopper, Kasen had approved a flight for Kirsten Lundberg, thirty-one weeks pregnant with twins, having gone into early labor, to take her high-risk pregnancy to Saint Mary’s Regional Medical Center in Reno where her obstetrician was waiting for her.
No way in the world was the fire chief going to risk the life of the mother and two infants by calling the flight back. Not for anyone. Even cops. Even his people, if it had come to that.
He sent his explanation and regrets to the PD.
Jake Burkett didn’t know anything about that. He was simply pleased that his plan had worked. There was no lake patrol craft blocking the southern end of the shallow passage; it had been drawn to the sound of the explosion. Who knew, maybe one of the other police patrol craft had just gone up in flames. Whatever the case, the cops had broken formation.
He popped out onto the main body of Lake Adeline unhindered. He pushed his outboard to the redline and headed to his rendezvous with destiny wearing a grim smile on his face.
In the distance, he saw a small boat heading his way.
Not one of the cop boats, that was already clear. The approaching vessel was smaller than his own. It appeared to be moving faster, too. Given the closing speed between the two boats, Jake soon saw that Ron Ketchum was behind the wheel.
He couldn’t tell if one or two people were sitting next to the chief.
Whatever the number, somebody was holding a rifle.
Fat lot of good that was going to do them.
He was going to get to the point on the water he wanted to reach.
Nobody could stop him now.
Ron saw Jake Burkett coming his way. Looked like the sucker was running full out. For just one heart-squeezing moment, the chief thought it might be Burkett’s intention to ram him. Heaven help them all if the two boats collided at the speed they were going. But Ron saw the approaching craft settle in the water as it slowed.
He exhaled in relief and cut back on his own vessel’s speed.
As far as he could tell, Burkett was now carried forward only by momentum. Then he raised a small square object in his right hand, held it above his head.
Tall Wolf said, “Oh, shit.”
A moment later, Ron and Keely could see why.
The little stainless steel box had the yellow-and-black radioactive material symbol on it.
Fucking Jake Burkett was smiling at them. Like he’d pulled a get-out-of-jail-free card from his sleeve. Well, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Can you take him?” Ron asked Tall Wolf quietly.
Keely had already gotten off of Tall Wolf’s lap, knelt in front of him, her semi-auto in hand.
“Yes, but is that the smart move?”
“We’re not letting him go.”
“No, we aren’t,” the special agent agreed.
Keely said, “Let’s circle him. If nothing else, we’ll make him turn to keep an eye on us.”
The two men aboard liked that. Circle Burkett like a shark now that his boat had come to rest. Let him know who was the predator and who was the prey.
Ron kept a distance of fifty feet. Tough shooting for Burkett if he had a handgun on him. A gimme for Tall Wolf with a scoped rifle. Of course, if Burkett’s weapon of choice was the shock wave from a bomb, they were all goners.
Burkett watched them complete their first circle with seeming amusement. He remained seated at the captain’s console on his boat. The face plate had been removed from it, and with heat rising in his face, the chief recognized where fucking Burkett had hidden his bomb components.
Sonofabitch.
Then two things happened. Burkett said, “You want to stop the silliness now?”
And Ron saw the patrol boat with Oliver aboard approaching them.
The other two police vessels hung back.
>
Ron held his hand high. Oliver kept coming, though not as fast.
The chief handed his cell phone to Keely and told her the number to call.
“Please tell the deputy chief to keep his distance,” Ron said.
Keely relayed the message. Oliver’s boat slowed to a crawl, but kept coming.
Burkett laughed and said to the chief, “Good help is so hard to find.”
Ron said, “We’ve got you, Jake. There’s nowhere to go.”
Burkett’s face relaxed, as if he was at peace.
He looked first at Ron and then at Keely.
Then he turned to Tall Wolf. “You’re so mysterious behind your sunglasses, but you know better, don’t you?”
Burkett’s question turned the chief’s and Keely’s attention to Tall Wolf.
The special agent nodded. “I saw it in a dream. It was me instead of you. I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“I think I will. Do you have it all figured out?”
“I thought so, for a while. Then I did a little math. I don’t think you mined enough gold to pay for the property where you found the motherlode,” Tall Wolf said.
Burkett said, “Oh, I took plenty, and I’d bet there’s enough gold to buy that property and a dozen more mountains besides. I think there are other motherlodes out there. So much gold that recovering it would destroy all this beauty. That’s what I was trying to warn against with the first bomb. It would have happened if Hale Tibbot had been left alive.”
“So you had him killed,” Ron said.
Burkett only smiled. Then he said to Tall Wolf, “You’re right. I didn’t mine enough gold to pay for the property.”
Oliver’s boat now bobbed on the water twenty feet behind Burkett.
The deputy chief passed his handgun off to the cop with him.
Ron knew just what he had in mind. Tall Wolf and Keely could see, too.
The chief shook his head.
Burkett noticed. “One of your people is about to do something foolish? Then I’d better say goodbye.” He got to his feet and pulled up his shirt. They all saw he was wearing a scuba diver’s weight belt. Negative buoyancy.
He looked at Tall Wolf and said, “I had —”
“A silent partner,” Tall Wolf told him.
Burkett smiled and said, “Right.”
Then he stepped over the side and splashed into the water at the deepest point of Lake Adeline.
Deputy Chief Gosden was about to dive in after him when John Tall Wolf fired a shot inches above his head. In a flinch reaction, Oliver dropped to the deck of his boat. A moment later, his head popped up with murder in his eyes.
“What the fuck was that?” he demanded of Tall Wolf.
Ron and Keely wanted to know the same thing.
“You’d never have come back up,” Tall Wolf said. “Look, he’s already gone.”
All the local cops peered over their rails.
The special agent was right.
As crystalline as Lake Adeline was, Jacob Burkett had already sunk out of sight.
“There’s still work to do,” Tall Wolf reminded everyone.
The time bomb Burkett had left behind was counting down.
Ron Ketchum and John Tall Wolf stepped into the boat Jake Burkett had just abandoned. The chief looked at Keely, Oliver, Officers Dennehy and Cardozo and said, “Get the hell out of here. We’ll call you when we need you.”
Tall Wolf told Ron, “You can go, too. This is a one-man job.”
The timer hit one minute and continued to bleed seconds.
“I’m staying,” Ron said.
Tall Wolf shrugged and set to work.
“Leave, I said!” Ron shouted to the others.
None of them obeyed. The mutiny was complete.
Before any further attempt to exert authority could be made, everyone heard Tall Wolf say, “Well, hell.”
They all saw the cause for his dismay.
The timer was no longer counting down, it was racing toward zero.
Distinct numbers had become a flickering blur.
In an attempt to throw the damn thing overboard, Ron and Tall Wolf both got their hands on the bomb, banged their heads together and dropped it.
Slapstick about to yield to tragedy.
Only that wasn’t what Burkett had in mind.
Arriving at what they thought would be the moment of detonation, the top of the small metal cube popped open and a jack-in-the-box clown shot up. Scaring the hell out of all of them. As the chief regained his breath, he saw the clown was holding a neatly printed card.
Boom, you’re dead!
Ron said, “Very fucking fun—”
Tall Wolf grabbed the box, flung it as far as he could and jumped atop Ron, yelling, “Everybody down!”
The explosion came seconds later. The shock wave rocked all three nearby boats. Keely had to grab the steering wheel of the mayor’s craft to remain aboard. The three cops on the lake patrol boat all found secure handholds. John Tall Wolf was launched into the air.
He didn’t know how high he flew, but when he looked down he could see nothing but clear, cold water below him. He knew from his dream what would happen when he splashed down. He’d join Burkett in that long, terminal descent.
Just when he thought he was lost, a hand with a grip like iron caught his left wrist. He went into the water, but his head didn’t go under. His fate still hung in the balance, though. He felt as if a malign force was pulling him down, refusing to yield a prize it thought to be its own. Then another strong hand went around his other wrist.
He looked up and saw Ron Ketchum had hold of him. His face was red and he was straining with effort. Tall Wolf did his best to kick free of the fate that sought to claim him. With one final effort, he raised his right leg and then stomped down as if crushing the face of a fallen enemy.
He shot out of the water and back into the boat.
The special agent and the chief lay next to each other, panting.
“Damn, you’re heavy,” Ron said.
Tall Wolf told him, “I’ve got a lot of baggage.”
Back at police headquarters, Tall Wolf took a hot shower and changed into a set of Goldstrike PD sweat clothes. Special Agent Benjamin and every cop on hand gathered to listen to what happened on Lake Adeline.
“How’d you know?” Ron asked Tall Wolf. “How’d you know the bomb was real?”
“I saw the little card and thought, ‘What if the SOB’s not joking?’ I didn’t want to take the chance so I threw the damn thing as far as I could.”
Ron shook his head, “With the possible exception of Special Agent Benjamin, you are the smartest cop in the room.”
Tall Wolf laughed. “You ask me, none of us is too smart. We should have dumped the bomb in the lake first thing, and all got the hell out of there.”
Deputy Chief Gosden added, “You were also the only cop dumb enough, besides me, not to be wearing a life vest.”
“Couldn’t find one big enough,” Tall Wolf said.
Chapter 27
Saturday, June 8
The memorial service for Walt Ketchum was held in Goldstrike, a mountain town not easily accessible to spur of the moment travelers. Nonetheless, Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church was filled to capacity. At Walt’s request, the Reverend James Leverette, formerly known as the televangelist Jimmy Thunder, led the service.
Cops from across the state and around the country found ways to reach the Sierra Nevada resort community on short notice. Ron Ketchum, in dress uniform, and Keely Powell, in a demure black dress, sat in the front pew. With them were John Tall Wolf, Abra Benjamin and Esther Gadwell. Sergeant Casimir Stanley and Marjorie Fitzroy made sure everything came off without a hitch.
Walt’s flag-draped casket was the center of attention.
Clay Steadman was the last mourner to arrive.
He touched Walt’s casket and sat next to Esther Gadwell.
Reverend Leverette ascended to the pulpit.
He looked o
ut at the gathering and said, “I’m told that Walter Ketchum was one mean sonofabitch. But as he approached his inevitable meeting with his maker, he came to a better understanding of what is important and what means little. In this way, Walter Ketchum was truly my brother. For in the end, all we have is each other, and all of us depend on one another for survival in this world and salvation in the next …”
They’d all arrived at Saint Mark’s before the church got crowded: Ron, Keely, Tall Wolf and Benjamin. Having had the night to think things over, Ron had come to a conclusion. He was probably the last one to have the light bulb go on, but he was the first one to bring it up.
“There’s no way Jake Burkett painted arrows in blood that pointed his way.”
The others all bobbed their heads.
They had thought of that, too.
But they weren’t inclined to intrude on Ron’s surmise.
So he continued, “And no way would a guy who was slick enough to build those bombs be dumb enough to leave blood in his freezer.”
They all shook their heads.
“Now, we have Veronika Novak identifying Helios Sideris as the man she saw leaving Hale Tibbot’s house on the night he was killed. And we found a large nugget of gold in a safe-deposit box he rented. So we have the killer and we know how he was paid, right?”
Keely could take the dumb-show only so far.
So she said, “Yeah, we know all that, and we know Sideris has vanished. So we can make a reasonable guess he wanted more gold and likely got lead instead.”
“That and a watery grave,” Benjamin added.
“Probably about the same spot Burkett ended it all,” Tall Wolf said.
“Okay, we’re agreed on all that,” Ron said, “but why do the charade with the first bomb? Why not just kill Tibbot? With him out of the way, Burkett was going to win his suit, right? Get the land he wanted. And with Tibbot dead, Burkett didn’t have to worry about industrial-scale exploitation of the gold deposit destroying the area’s natural beauty.”
Tall Wolf suggested, “Maybe Burkett was warning himself about the dangers of getting greedy as much as he was warning anyone else.
