“Yes,” McBeth said. “I did. I knew he killed him. In fact I saw him when I left the barn. I was bloody. I was staggering. I was holding my arm. Jimmy was right outside. Just standing there in the dark. He didn’t help me or anything. He just told me he would take care of it. He had a gun in his hand. I saw it. And I said, ‘Good.’ That’s what I said. I just walked away into the field, toward the house. When I got back I heard the shot.
“Later that night the cops found him in the barn. It looked like he had committed suicide. They said that he’d shot himself. They found me the way I was—bloody and burnt on my arm. I told them what had happened. All of it. Except for the end. Except for seeing Jimmy with that gun.” McBeth nodded and closed his eyes. “Yes. I knew exactly what happened.”
Wolf placed a hand on the table. “And when Casey dumped Chris’s body on your wash plant hopper grate,” he said, “this time you didn’t tell the cops everything, either. You didn’t tell us that Chris had burned you with a cigarette during that argument you’d had.”
McBeth opened his eyes.
“Koling told us in his interview about that,” Wolf said. “That was the mark on your jacket when I came up to visit you guys at the mine, wasn’t it?”
McBeth nodded.
“What was he saying when he burned you? Was he mocking you? Was he being a bully in typical Chris Oakley fashion? Did he mention how your father had burned you?”
McBeth closed his eyes again. “Yes. I could tell it really pissed off Jimmy. But I didn’t think he was going to do anything. I mean…he didn’t do anything. We all just went to bed after that.”
Wolf waited a few moments and then continued. “So that Monday morning when Casey dumped Chris’s body onto the hopper grate, you saw that gunshot wound. You must have known right then and there that Jimmy had done it. Again.”
McBeth clenched his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. The scar squirmed as his forearm muscles flexed underneath. When he lowered his hands his face went slack. Again he looked at the vacant chair next to him, and then he nodded. “Yes. I knew. When I climbed up there and saw the blood under his chin I checked the top of his head. I saw it was a gunshot. I knew right then.”
“And then what did you do?” Wolf asked. “Did you talk to Jimmy about it? Did you ask if he had done it?”
“No.” McBeth shook his head and closed his eyes again. After a beat he looked at Wolf. His eyes were half-closed. Resigned. “Fuck it. Yes. I did. I asked him. He told me ‘I took care of it.’ I told him that everyone was going to find out. He told me ‘I’ll take care of it again.’”
“Did you know he was going to kill Mary Ellen Dimitri and try to frame Rick Hammes for everything?”
“No. I swear I didn’t know that.”
Wolf nodded. “That Monday night you stayed in Rocky Points at the Edelweiss while he went to Dredge alone?”
“I stayed in my motel room. Kevin went out drinking. I knew that Jimmy left, too. Shit, I didn’t know he was killing another person so he could try and cover up what he’d done.”
“But you knew he was ‘taking care of it.’ What did you think he was going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
Wolf nodded. “You know you’re in trouble now, right?”
“Yeah. I know.”
Wolf got up.
“What’s going to happen to me?” McBeth asked.
“That part’s not up to me, Eagle.”
Wolf left, shutting the door behind him.
Chapter 38
Heather Patterson watched McBeth’s confession from a stool in the observation room. When Wolf finished and opened the door, he made eye contact with her first.
“We have to speak in my office,” he said, glancing at his watch. “You two can book him,” he said to Yates and Rachette.
“What’s up?” Patterson asked.
Wolf ignored her question, leading her out into the hallway.
She was on her own two feet now, without crutches. She still felt a spasm of pain in her ankle every now and then if she made a sudden movement, but all in all she was healing fast. Wolf was walking quickly, probably testing her. She kept up easily.
He knew she knew. Wilson had gotten back into town from Denver this morning and those two had been speaking behind closed doors for hours. Things were playing out exactly like she expected they might. Wilson had gotten the job with the Denver PD, which meant there was a vacant spot that needed to be filled.
Butterflies took flight in her stomach. Why was she nervous? Probably because it wasn’t every day she was promoted. How would she do as Wolf’s right hand?
The butterflies disappeared. She would do fine. Wolf would be better with her working closely with him. The department would do better.
She’d gotten little sleep the last few nights just thinking about it. Not because of anxiety for what might come, she had since realized, but because she was genuinely excited. When she had started her criminal law courses back in Boulder she’d dreamt of moments like these: moving up. Not that she had ever considered herself a ladder-climber before. That wasn’t it. It was what she’d always wanted, making a difference—doing her best and being acknowledged for it.
My gosh, how had she come so far so fast? she thought, following Wolf out under the vaulted ceilings of the squad room and towards his office. She was only thirty-four years old.
But she deserved it, she thought. Was that being egotistical? Not really. Not with all the hard work she’d put in.
The blinds of Wolf’s glass-enclosed aquarium space were screwed shut, making it look like a bomb bunker instead of the sheriff’s office. That was normal for big meetings. News of the undersheriff leaving and
