Authors: Andrew Gross
“And he said …”
“He said that it isn’t actually up to the state. That it’s up to the local police authority and district attorney where the crime was committed. So then I said, what if
they
declined to act on it? What if it all fit under the heading of conflict of interest? Or more, like they were all under their thumb. And just to fill out the hypothetical, what if we were talking RMM …?”
Hauck was silent.
Naomi said, “That’s when he laughed again.”
“Yeah, the humor’s hard to miss.” Hauck took another chug of beer.
“Look, off the record, he said the best path would be to give this to the local press or TV and let them investigate it, until the local jurisdictions would be forced to respond to it. I’m sorry. You picked a big fish to fry here. Especially in this state. I wish I could have been of more help.”
“You did great, Naomi. It’s about what I expected. Thanks.”
“So what are you going to do now?”
“I really don’t know.”
“You’re going to go back there, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ty, you heard the reaction I got out there. No one wants to touch this. The proceeds mean too much to the state. What happened today … was this basically a way to tell you to stay clear?”
“Either that, or to kill me. Or Dani. It was hard to tell.”
“Ty, don’t joke. I’m honestly worried about you. That has to matter to you. I’m worried you’ll do something foolish and I’m going to hear about it on the evening news.”
“It does matter to me, Naomi.” He put down the beer bottle. “It’s just that, this does, too.”
“More than me telling you to back out …?”
Hauck stayed silent.
“I guess I get it,” she responded kind of dejectedly. “You know I’m not your wife. I’m not even sure if I’m your girlfriend. But I do have a stake in you, Ty. You have to acknowledge that.”
“I do acknowledge that, Naomi.” Hauck glanced at his watch. It was almost six
P.M
. “I know this is rotten timing, but I have something I have to do.”
“Stay safe, Ty …” He could hear she was frustrated. “Let me hear from you that you are.”
“I will.”
They hung up. Hauck didn’t like the manner in which they did. He took his car keys and knocked on Dani’s bedroom. “I’ll be back in a little while,” he said. “Geoff will be here in a couple of minutes. Don’t let anyone else in but him.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have to see someone about something.”
The police station had thinned out for the night shift when Wade Dunn finally stepped out the door.
He was dressed a khaki police shirt over jeans, a cowboy hat, and the same python boots he’d been wearing when Hauck had met him before. He chatted in the doorway with one of the officers on his staff, gave him a laugh and an amiable poke on the shoulder, then headed over to his vehicle, which was parked in the spot marked
CHIEF
.
Hauck went up to him.
Dunn’s demeanor changed—maybe surprised to see Hauck back and in front of him. Or maybe just rolling around in his head in a moment of panic exactly why Hauck was there. His eyes finally brightened in recognition.
“Hey …! Hauck, isn’t it? Dani’s godfather? I see you’re back.”
“That’s right.” Hauck stood in the way of the police chief and the green-and-white official SUV.
“Your trip over so soon? I heard she took you up to her friend’s funeral up outside Greeley. Not much to see up there but potato fields and a few oil wells. I’m afraid you didn’t get to see our state at its best.”
“I’d have to agree on that.” Hauck nodded. Dunn was either completely out of the loop or a ridiculously bad actor. Hauck figured the latter.
“Look ….” The chief glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid I have to be over in Glenwood in a couple of minutes. AA meeting. Not telling you anything everyone else here doesn’t know. I’m one of the hosts tonight.”
“I’ll walk you over to your car.”
“Car’s right here, actually. So how’s my girl? She was taking her friend’s death pretty hard.”
“She’s okay. She had a little run-in up there today.”
“Run-in? Anything I can do?”
“There might be, now that you bring it up. I think she realizes now she may have gotten in a little over her head in some of this business. Like you warned me, she gets pretty riled up about things.”
“You can take
that
to the bank and cash it.” Dunn grinned with a shake of his head. “Always been her way.” He stopped at his car. “So, uh, like I said, I—”
“Those photos …” Hauck looked at him.
“
Photos …?
” Dunn stared back, playing dumb.
“I think you know what I’m talking about. From the ranger station the morning Trey Watkins was killed. Dani said you took them.”
“Well, I wouldn’t quite call it ‘took ’em,’” the chief snorted officiously. “They’re part of an investigation. I just can’t be showing them around.”
“So you’re opening an investigation? The Watkins family will be glad to hear that.”
“I merely meant that they’re part of the official record now. Police property. Depending on what we decide to do,” the chief said, backpedaling. “You used to be in this line of work. I figure you understand.”
“I do understand. Same way I understand you’re pretending you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about, and that your name didn’t come up in a curious way while we were up there …”
“
My
name …?” Dunn took out his key and clicked open his door. “It did?”
“By the same man whose car was in those photos you have in there.” Hauck looked at him directly.
The chief blinked, his runny eyes locked on Hauck, trying to convey the full measure of his authority. “I’m not exactly sure just what we’re talking about, Mr. Hauck.”
“Some bad things have happened, Chief, and a lot of them seem to find a path back to you. You and some really unfriendly people up there. I guess the only question is what we’re going to do about it now. Dani’s a good girl. You know that as well as anyone. I know you have feelings for her in some way. But I also know …”
“You also know
what,
Mr. Hauck?” Dunn took off his hat and stared at him hard now.
“I also know you seem to be a man who’s willing do what he
has
to do, when it all comes down to it.”
“When
what
comes down? I’m not sure I catch your meaning.”
“What inevitably will, Chief Dunn. What always does when people get in over their head.”
Dunn nodded, twisting his mouth, and ran his hand along the close-cropped sides of his scalp. “I’m thinking there’s a threat in there somewhere. Which is a crime, as you likely know. If you weren’t Dani’s godfather and I wasn’t late for this meeting …”
“No threat,” Hauck said, “there.” He put his hand on the driver’s door. “Here’s the threat, and I want it to sink in carefully before you take whatever your next step is in this mess. One you’ll likely not be able to walk back from.”
“You’re treading a very narrow line here, mister”—Wade stared at him—“whatever résumé you come with.”
“Anything happens to that girl,” Hauck said, “either by you, or by someone connected to you, even someone I just may think is connected to you … Say, someone who just might show up in town, kind of like what happened to that Watkins boy last week, and she has a similar accident on the river, or maybe doesn’t show up for work one day and simply disappears. Or even if she just slips on the ice during ski season and chips a nail. You hear me, Chief, a single hair on that kid’s head is out of place …”
“And what?” The chief chuffed back a smile. “You’ll hold me responsible?”
“Oh, I won’t hold you responsible …” Hauck kept an arm on the car door, blocking his way. “I’ll come back out here and I’ll kill you. Myself. I’ll put that fancy gun you carry around in your mouth and blow the back of your head into a hundred pieces. And you can take that one to the bank and cash it. Just so we understand. And any time you feel like arresting me, Chief, for threatening a police representative … you be my guest. There’s a lot of things that don’t look so kosher out here that if I was a sixty-year-old ex-drunk on his last job I wouldn’t want to be getting out.”
Dunn twitched. He blew a blast out of his nostrils, his last pretense of crusty resolve receding into a pallid nod. He put his hat back on. “I don’t think it’ll come to that,” he said. Hauck took his arm away and Dunn climbed into his car. “So where is she? Dani. Don’t get all riled up now. I just want to say hello and make sure she’s okay?”
“Maybe better left unsaid.” Hauck shut the door. “I hope that meeting goes well, Chief …”
Dunn just sat there for a moment. He sniffed into a smile Hauck couldn’t quite read. “I read up on what you’ve done. Back east. I know, maybe you’ve gone up against some bigger folk in the past, bigger than those oil boys up there. But let me tell you,” he said, his eyes twinkling, “I bet your last dollar you’ve never run up against none who want what they want with more resolve.”
“I’ll consider us both warned then,” Hauck said back.
“It’s been nice having you out here, Mr. Hauck.” Wade smiled and started the engine. “Not sure I’ll be seeing you again.” He pressed on the accelerator and the SUV roared to life.
“You never know …” Hauck slapped the door shut. “But next time I hope it’s for a foot of fresh powder.”
Around 6:30
P.M
. Geoff came by and picked up Dani. She still wasn’t happy to leave, but she finally went, reluctantly, Blu trailing along. Geoff seemed like a good guy who genuinely cared about her. His said his friend’s house was empty for a week and Snowmass was twenty-five miles from Carbondale, and no one would have any idea she was there. He promised Hauck he wouldn’t mention it to anyone.
Hauck drove into Aspen and checked into the Hotel Jerome. He figured as long as he was out here, while he figured out his next step, why not enjoy the stay. The Jerome was a famous, redbrick building on Main Street, a holdover from Aspen’s nineteenth-century mining heyday. Its brass-trimmed, Old West-style lobby combined the charm of old Aspen with a trendier, modern-day style and crowd.
Besides, Hauck had been there before and liked the bar.
He checked in, sent out some clothes to be express washed for the next day, took a long shower, and put on the one clean shirt he had left. Then he headed down to the bar. He ordered a Stoli on the rocks with olives. He was able to finally decompress from all that had happened today.
“Crazy day?” the bartender asked. He seemed in his forties, handsome, fit. His idea of a crazy day was likely when his mountain bike suffered a flat.
Hauck shook his head and laughed. “You don’t have any idea.”
He noticed four women at a table in bright-colored tops, short leather jackets, and stylish jeans. The sound of southern accents. Texas, he was thinking. Probably a girls’ weekend. One of them, a pretty brunette in a leopard-print top, seemed to glance over a couple of times, catching his eye.
His mind drifted to Naomi. She was the third woman he had gotten involved with in the past five years. First, there was Karen. Together they had searched for her husband, Charlie, a hedge fund manager who had engineered his own disappearance in the smoke and chaos of a Metro-North train bombing. After a year together, she’d gone back to Virginia to take care of her dad, which had pretty much broken Hauck’s heart at the time. Then Annie, who still had her restaurant in town, and her son, Brandon, who had Down syndrome and whom Hauck still took skating every once in a while.
Then Naomi. If you could even call what they had being involved.
The brunette in the drapey leopard top kept looking his way. They were probably out in Aspen for some fun. He signaled to the bartender for another. Hauck needed a meal badly. He’d have him recommend a restaurant.
His cell phone sounded.
Hauck looked at the screen and saw that it was from Talon.
It was awfully late back home. Maybe Foley had come back with something on Alpha after all. He took the phone and went to an empty corner in the bar area where no one would hear. “Tom, it’s after ten back there …” he answered.
“Well, things don’t just stop just because you’re lazing your way out there in Colorado.”
“Not exactly how I would describe it,” Hauck said, “but … Any chance you found out anything on what I asked?”
“To be truthful,” his boss replied, “I can’t say I tried.”
“Oh.” There was a seriousness in Foley’s voice. This had the earmarks of a different kind of conversation altogether. “What’s going on?”
“Ty, I have to be frank. I’ve spoken with the executive committee. We all feel this sabbatical of yours has to come to an end.”
“I’m sorry that’s the way you look at it, Tom.”
“How else are we supposed to look at it? We’ve extended ourselves for you a good deal now. We’ve tried to be flexible. We’re running a business here, son, not a wellness clinic. I know you went through a rough patch and you had a little soul-searching to do. But that time is up now.”
“Sounds like there’s an ultimatum coming here …”
“Call it whatever you want. I would simply say it’s a reality check. We want you back to work here. Tomorrow. The day after, the latest. This thing you’re on out there has got to come to an end. If not—and the choice is yours, son—we’ll have no option but to nullify your partnership agreement with the firm. You’re an asset here, Ty. But only if you’re here. I’ve sent you an email putting all this in writing, so there’s no misunderstandings.”
In writing …
“No misunderstandings, Tom. Except only a couple of days ago you were willing to check into Alpha for me, and whether you knew anyone out here who could help. What’s changed?”
“What’s changed is that it’s time to put this whole thing behind you, Ty, that’s all. And come back home.”
“Six people are dead out here, Tom. If you knew what happened today, you’d—”
“Look, that all sounds bad and I’m sorry for them,” Foley said, cutting him off. “I really am. But there are agencies to look into that. Police. We have our own things to get done here, and we’ve met, and we’re united in how we feel about it. You find your way back here, and let’s get on to doing great things. Or we revoke your agreement—I think we’re long past the clause that says you execute your job ‘in a timely, accepted manner’—and that’s that. I’ll give you the night to sleep on it. As long as you realize, there’s an awful lot you’d be throwing away. Do I need to repeat any part of this, Ty?”