“No, I guess not… Sorry, I don’t know what the hell’s goin on…”
He smiled. “Talk to you later Ruth. Stay out of trouble and try not to harass too many people coming into town for the festival, alright? You are going to make a lot of money. They are going to be good for your business. Okay?” He chided her. She looked slighter than usual, which was less than twig-thin. “Where’s Bill? Is he around?”
“He’s in Frasier, he’s coming back today,” she said looking at the ground.
“Okay, well, take care, okay? I’ll come back and check in on you.”
Rachette looked in the side view mirror as they left. “Jesus. She’s not looking too good.”
“Yeah, when you get a chance later today figure out what’s going on with Bill.”
“Will do,” Rachette said. “So, what’s the plan?”
“I figure let’s stop at the Sunnyside to see if they came in yesterday morning, then off to tell the Wheatmans.”
“Fun stuff.”
“Yep. Fun stuff.”
The next two and a half hours were done with detached, depressing efficiency. The first hour they confirmed the three teens to be at the Sunnyside Cafe together the previous morning and got the expected news about the Wheatman boy from the team on the mountain. DOA.
The next hour and a half were spent telling and consoling the Wheatmans about their son and rounding up the two other teens. It was the third time in his years on the force that he’d had to break the news to a family about the death of their loved one. He couldn’t think of a more difficult thing to do as a cop. It was a despicable task.
The two teens were sitting at home like scared rabbits. Crying at the site of Wolf and Rachette, they confessed they were with Jerry Wheatman when he fell. Some moronic idea sprouted in the Mulroy kid’s mind to keep it a secret. It was an accident, and there was no need. But Wolf knew kids will act strange when they’re instilled with life values from alcoholic meth-head parents.
“Been quite a good day.” Rachette’s voice was thick with sarcasm as he stuffed a pinch of snuff in his lower lip.
Wolf nodded his head. Rachette threw the can of chew to him. Wolf took a pinch and threw it back. A well rehearsed act.
Lightning flashed, immediately followed by a smash of thunder. Droves of rain and pea sized hail had been cascading from the sky the last twenty minutes. Wolf and Rachette stood in the doorway of the garage of the Rocky Points Police Station, the wind spraying them with moist droplets.
Rachette spit out onto the frothing ground, “Are you going to tell me what the hell happened up there or what?”
“I’m really not sure,” he lied. Wolf was still running through options for how this was going to play out.
“You are going to get the job next week, right? I mean, that’s pretty much a done deal, right?” Rachette’s look was unmoving. “We cannot have that guy as Sheriff of this department.”
“It’s not up to me.”
“Yeah, but…come on. That guy has been pretty much abusing the rest of the force for the last few months. I saw him slap Blaine the other day.”
Wolf looked at him with furrowed brow.
“I’m serious! That guy is a crazy meat head.”
“And you didn’t report this to Sheriff Burton?”
“Pssssshhh. Yeah, right.”
Of course he didn’t. One didn’t advance very far in the force by tattling their way to the top. No matter how bad it got.
Wolf rolled his neck with a grimace and yawned. “I’m going to head home. I’ll see you tomorrow. If Burton comes round looking for me, tell him he can call me.”
“Alright, sounds good.”
“Later.” Wolf got in the Explorer, fired it up, and drove out into the rain.
His wipers wrenched back and forth at the top setting, still not affording him much of a view out the dash. Lighting was splicing the sky in all directions, thunder so close it was audible over the radio, the pounding rain on the car, and revving engine.
There was a good chance he would run into Gary in the next few minutes if he was at the ranch. What would he tell him? On top of his ongoing financial stress, Danny’s mother being back in the picture, and the whole Sheriff appointment thing next week, he didn’t know how things could get more complicated.
Chapter 4
As he made his way through the southern end of town and out along the dirt road home, the rain let up. Sun streamed in through the clouds, reflecting brightly off the wet road. Large puddles and new small streams gouged across the only way to the ranch. All in all, the road held up well through the last few weeks, but it would need a new grading before fall.
Wolf crossed the cattle guard that marked the northern edge of the ranch property and continued up the hill, reaching the top of a low plateau that was set twenty feet above the river meandering to the right. The majestic view that rose into view through the windshield as he reached the flat never ceased to inspire him.
The three-hundred-acre property was part forest, part grassy meadow, all rugged beauty. There were two separate buildings with three uses — an understated one-story house that had plenty of windows, sprawling in a wide L-shape that faced southwest — one half of the “L” being a workshop and garage, the other twenty-five- hundred square feet living space. Then there was a small red barn thirty yards to the south.
If he actually got the Sheriff job, something he’d refused to fantasize about too much, he’d be able to begin putting some real money towards the payments again — payments to Gary Connell, the proud owner of this estate ever since Wolf’s father’s death over fifteen years ago. He laughed out loud. The irony of the present situation was thicker than the dark clouds in the rear view mirror.
Driving up to the ranch plateau also meant driving back into cell coverage. He picked up his phone and hit the button with anticipation.
Four missed calls. One voice message.
He gave her a quick call without bothering with the voicemail. She answered after a half ring.
“Where have you been?” she screamed through the phone.
“What? What do you mean?”
She began sobbing deeply into the phone. He didn’t like the sound of that sob. It was the kind of sob that was followed by earth shattering news — life altering news he’d heard one too many times before.
“Your brother’s dead,” she said simply.
He stopped the truck and got out, suddenly feeling very claustrophobic. “What? What do you mean?”
“He died this weekend.”
“What do you mean this weekend, when?”
Her sob was a loud crackle in the earpiece. “I guess Friday night, they are saying.”
“Who is saying? What happened? In Italy?”
She sniffed and then let out another shaky sob.
“What happened Mom? What happened to John, Mom?” His eyes were swimming as he stood slack jawed
