Authors: Andrew Gross
“Wade, please,” she begged. “I’m scared. Don’t!”
He stopped.
He swallowed slowly; Dani almost saw the lump in his throat crawl down his thick neck. He ran his hand across his scalp, knocking off his pride Stetson hat, and then when it fell in his lap, swatted it away in wordless rage into the backseat. He just sat there breathing, composed but heavy. Warrick kept saying, “Wade, Wade, answer me.”
Then he turned off the radio.
“I’ve done some bad things,” he said, staring forward.
“I know. I know you have, Wade. But it’s like with recovery, isn’t that what you always said? It’s never too little or too late. Let me tell them you’ll give yourself up.”
“I don’t mean just about Trey. And Rooster. Though I haven’t lost a minute of sleep over him. And those others …” He finally turned to her. “I never knew any of that was going to happen like it did. I swear.”
She looked at him. “I believe you, Wade.”
“I was talking about Judy,” he said. “Your mom.”
“What do you mean about Mom?”
He inhaled a deep breath that seemed like it had been inside him forever and then locked his hands behind his head. “She had time left. I don’t know how much. But time. You could have made it back to be with her. But I …” He stopped. “She was taking a lot of morphine then.”
Dani’s eyes grew wide and she didn’t understand. “What are you saying, Wade?”
“I took that from you, I know. Your last time with her. I increased her dosage. A lot. More than tripled it. She was in pain and I told myself I was doing the right thing. But we both know I was out of control back then. And scared. I was scared she wouldn’t die. I needed money to pay back a few things. My lawyer. Some people who I owed things to, who would speak up for me.” He swallowed again hard and then nodded as if finally making some peace with it himself. “You should’ve had that time.”
“What are you saying, Wade, you killed her?”
“I just put her in God’s hands, I told myself. But yes, you could say I did.”
Dani blinked. “I always hated myself for not being back with her.”
“I know you did.” He nodded. “But now you see. It was me. That’s why this seems right now. Now get out.”
A wave of anger rose up inside Dani. Now it was her turn to look at him. “What seems right? How could you have done that, Wade? She loved you.”
“Get out now, Danielle. Time’s up.” He took out his gun and cocked it back and pointed it squarely at her. “Walk over toward the edge. Sorry, but it doesn’t end like you wanted it to, Dani. It just doesn’t.” He lifted the automatic door locks.
“What are you going to do, Wade? The police are on their way up now.”
He said, “You want me to just shoot you here? I will. It’s pretty clear I have nothing else to lose. Now go on …”
Dani remained there rooted to her seat.
“Count of three. And don’t test me on this, Dani. Not this.”
Confused, nervous, Dani fumbled at the door. She stepped out and just looked back at him. The killer of her mom. An accessory in killing Trey. So many things became clear.
His face had a cast of doom on it.
“Now close it,” he said, keeping the gun on her and lowering the window. “Step back.”
“Wade, please …” Dani shut the door.
“Now start to walk over. To the ledge.”
Fear shot up in her. “What are you going to do to me, Wade?”
“Take a step, I said.” He kept the gun trained on her through the open window. “Go on.”
She did. She took a step or two, then she just stood there, Wade nodding and training the gun on her.
“Now walk over there.” He swung the gun to indicate the cliff’s edge. She stayed rooted, but her heart quickened its pace in fear. She didn’t know if there was any reason left in him. “Walk over there, or so help me God I’ll shoot you where you stand, Danielle. I will.”
Tears of dread wound their way down her cheeks. She took another step back.
“
Walk!
” he shouted.
She started to move. She tripped in her sandals over a rough growth of scrub and caught herself. She backed away to a distance of about ten feet from Wade’s car. She was maybe three or four feet from the ledge. A two-thousand-foot drop. She could start to run, but to where? And not in her sandals. She was trapped. She could feel the warm wind whooshing up the cliff face and beating into her. How could he want to kill her now? There was no point. She always thought he loved her.
He still had the gun pointed at her through the open window.
“Wait.”
Dani stood there.
“Watch out for him,” Wade said.
“
Who?”
“He still needs lots of help. He gets whatever I have, of course, which ain’t much. He’ll just need somebody.”
It took a second for what he was saying to break through her confusion and fear. “Wade, please, don’t … What are you even thinking?”
“I lied before.” His voice seemed to soften. “What I said about you … We always did have that deal. Being tough with one another. But I was always fond of you, Danielle. I tried to think of you as if you were my own. No matter what I’ve done, I did.”
“I know.” Suddenly the tears were burning in her eyes. And they were no longer of fear. “I did, too.”
“I tried to warn you …”
Suddenly there were sirens in the distance.
“Don’t let my son think ill of me, if you can.”
Dani heard the V8 engine rev.
“
Wade, wait!
”
He looked ahead, and with a roar the white police SUV lurched forward and hurtled toward the edge.
“
Wade, no!
” Dani screamed in horror.
It shot off the edge, vaulting into the night sky, and seemed to hold there for an instant, like a hang glider catching the wind, about to soar.
Then it fell, nose forward into the deep abyss of the valley. Into the web of a million flickering lights. The valley Wade practically owned at one time, or at least that was the way it seemed, she thought later. If you could ever really own something like that, a man who never had a dime, only an off-color joke, a hearty laugh, or a slap on the back. Descending silently with a hundred secrets still buried with him.
Yet in his own way he had.
Three days later, the United Airlines A320 touched down at LaGuardia Airport in New York and pulled up at the end of the runway with Hauck in it.
Three days of being treated for his wounds—two fractured ribs, a contusion on the back of his skull, and a clean through-and-through gunshot wound in the shoulder. And sorting things out with the various law enforcement agencies to come to the conclusion that despite two dead and one wounded at the farm, on top of the six dead in Aspen, he and Chuck Watkins wouldn’t be charged.
In the end, the only charge that seemed even remotely prosecutable, but at the same time moot, was for unlawfully breaking into Robertson’s mailbox, which the DA in Greeley seemed agreeable to ignore, only half jokingly, if Hauck promised never to come back to the state.
Randall J. McKay, from Alpha, was brought up on multiple counts of attempted murder, kidnapping, conspiracy to commit murder in the case of Trey Watkins, blackmail, and witness intimidation. Not to mention federal charges of illegally using military PsyOps tactics in the United States. Alpha Group agreed to discontinue all operations on the Wattenberg field pending a review of their business practices, and before that was even undertaken, several other energy accounts of theirs decided to walk away, and the firm collapsed. Several litigations against their management and board of directors were initiated.
Resurgent Mining and Mineral underwent an internal audit and Wendell Moss, their regional head of Colorado operations, resigned, pending charges against him of blackmail, conspiracy to defraud the justice system, and conspiracy to commit murder. The company expressed its “dismay and disappointment” at the tactics employed in the Wattenberg region, which ran against its “core philosophy to working hand in hand with local communities.” The CEO said it would immediately take steps to ensure “that sufficient levels of water, either from local sources or beyond,” would immediately be made available to the farmers and ranchers of Weld County, “who had been disadvantaged by their policies.” In advance of what was anticipated to be several class action suits, the company pledged up front to invest the sum of $60 million to be put back into the affected localities, for RMM’s role in compounding the hardships of the drought the past two years. At the same time the company insisted it had only worked within the wishes of the local municipalities affected, and that other than the actions of a few misguided managers, it had broken no laws. In Templeton, Police Chief Joseph Riddick tendered his resignation, citing reasons of personal health, pending a criminal review, and an outside lieutenant from Greeley was temporarily put in charge.
Two days after Hauck was taken away from Trixie One on a stretcher, a news release came over the wires that the proposed merger between RMM and Global had been put on hold.
RMM’s stock fell twenty points that day.
On Hauck’s second day in the hospital, a call came in from Vern Fitzpatrick, the chief of police back in Greenwich and Hauck’s old boss, who’d tried to reach him before. When he heard Hauck was in the hospital and why, he laughed. “Every time I talk to you, life seems to be chipping a little more away,” Vern said, recalling what had happened only months before after the Gstaad Group venture. “Bet you never thought when you left the force, that’s when things would really start to get dangerous.”
“Never did.” Hauck chuckled. “That’s true.”
They talked about some people they knew in common; Hauck brought Fitzpatrick up-to-date on how he’d spent his past three months. Then he said, “So I know you didn’t call in to hear about my trip to the Rockies …”
“No,” Vern admitted. “I didn’t.” The chief paused for a second. “I guess you could tell the last time we saw each other, Ty, I’m not getting any younger. I’ve been running this department for almost twenty years now.”
“And doing it pretty damn well,” Hauck said. “Everyone respects you.” Though Vern was right, the last time they had seen each other, at a retirement party for one of the department’s longtime secretaries, Hauck couldn’t help but notice the gray had turned to white, the crow’s-feet around the eyes more pronounced.
“Thanks. That’s actually kind of what I want to talk to you about.”
Hauck shifted in his bed. “Okay …”
“I have a few things going on, beyond the usual aches and pains. I seem to have this irregular heartbeat now, they tell me. And this shake. You probably saw.” Hauck had noticed the tremor the last time they met. “That’s not getting any better.”
“Have you gotten it tested?” Hauck asked. Vern was as much a friend as an ex-boss.
“I have.” Then he switched the subject. “Marge and I were thinking about spending a little more time down south. We have this place, outside Charleston. Ever been there?”
“Never. I hear the eating’s good, though.”
“And the golf. Though I don’t get down there near enough to confirm that myself.”
“You telling me you’re thinking about retiring, Vern?”
“Thinking seriously about it,” Vern said.
“Wow. When?”
“Soon as I can groom someone into the job and replace myself.”
“Well, yours will be big shoes to fill, Vern. Twenty years … The size of the force must have doubled in that time.”
“Tripled actually. At least that’s what I get reminded of, every time I go through the budget process.”
Hauck laughed. “I bet it is. So what can I do? You want an assessment on who you have in mind? I’m sure Steve’s up for it. He’s next in line.” Steve Cristafuli, whom Hauck had brought in himself, and who had replaced him as the chief of detectives. He’d held the job under Vern for two years now.
“Steve’s not the answer, Ty. He’s fine just where he is. He as much as said so himself when I asked.”
“Okay. What about one of the other municipalities then? Mike Garvey’s up in New Canaan and I always thought he has what it takes.”
“You’re right. He would be a good choice. But the reason I called you, Ty, is I was hoping you might think that this could be the right thing for you.”
“
Me …?
” Hauck sat up in the bed.
“I don’t know how things are in your new job … I know you’re doing well. But I also know you spent a whole lot of time after that last escapade down in the Caribbean. And there are rumors …”
“Rumors? What kinds of rumors, Vern …?”
“You know how it is. People talk.”
Hauck paused. He let the idea simmer around in his blood. “I’ve been out a long time. Close to three years. I’m sure things have changed. And things work a little differently in the private sector. And I’ve gotten used to that.”
“I understand. But you’re still the best man I can think of for the job. Everyone respects you. You know the place better than anyone. And maybe some of that private-sector savvy is a good thing these days …”
“You might be right on that,” Hauck agreed.
“’Course, it’s not the big glamour job like what you’re used to now. And we can’t even begin to offer you anything close to what you’ve been earning …”
“Money’s never been the motivating thing for me, Vern. You know that.”
“That’s what I told the town council when I floated the idea to them. ‘Why not ask Ty? We might be able to get him on the cheap.’”
Hauck chuckled back. “And what did they say?”
“Who?”
“The town council.”
Vern didn’t answer. “Think it over at least, would you? It’s a good job. And a good life. You know that.”
Hauck nodded. “It is.”
“And something else to consider …” the chief of police said with a laugh.
“What’s that?”
“It might be safer.”
The farewells were tough for Hauck before he left to go back east.
Chuck Watkins came around with his wife. The farmer stepped in cautiously, seeing Hauck’s head still bandaged and his arm in a sling. “So how’s the shoulder?”
“Not quite as good as it was the day before I met you. How’s yours?”