- Hard Fall (19 page)
Authors: James Buchanan
Kabe slid onto a chair. "Just a Diet Coke."
She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "No wonder y'all's so thin." Reaching over, Nadia prodded his forearm with one finger. Then she sat back and scowled at me. "He don't ever eat nothing, does he?"
Like it was my job to make sure Kabe got fed? Boy was old enough to take care of himself. "Seen him eat." Been to the 168
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place enough times I didn't need the menu. "I'll take a lemonade and club sandwich." When the waitress left, Nadia moved the camera. "That for me?"
"Sure is." She slid the folder over. Kabe moved in close.
Real close. His thigh met mine at the hip and ran all along to the knee, our shoulders bumped and our elbows brushed. A shiver shot down my spine. Made my jeans go all too tight.
Wanted to pull him into my lap and grind my prick into his butt. That's what I got for going from almost no sex to three times in less than a week. My hormones were all in overdrive.
Distracting myself, I flipped open the folder.
Another tremble, completely different, followed the first.
The orange date and timestamp put it the morning of the fall, right around sunup. Typical landscape shot: lots of trees and red rocks and hoodoos in the background. 'Cept off in one corner, a tiny figure could be seen in the trees. "I printed out the ones I thought you'd need most." The next shot, same general angle only I could make out Gunter. Still a ways off in the shot, he headed out of the deer trail Kabe and I'd followed, small in the frame but recognizable. "Good 200
pictures on that SD. Didn't delete any of them, you'll be able to retrieve 'em again." In rapid succession the photos showed him approaching the camera. He looked grim. He looked determined. A couple of shots were taken almost right up against Gunter's nose. One you could barely see the sun through what looked like his fingers wrapped over the lens.
Nadia tapped that photo. "That's the last shot on the SD.
Nothing so nice as her photographing him looking over the rim as she falls."
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"Nope," I slid the photos back in the folder, "but it pokes a hole in his story big enough to drive a dozen head of cattle through."
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"Joe, get in here." Myron Simple, Sheriff elect, yelled from his office. "I need to talk to you."
"Be there in just a minute, sir." Just 'cause he's an elected official don't mean I don't treat him with respect. Retired from a large metropolitan force in the South. Moved out to hunt and fish in his golden years, then ended up running for the seat. Even not local, well, people 'round here are smart enough to know the difference a little experience can make.
"I'm working on an affidavit for a search warrant."
Time to nail ol' Alban Gunter Warner to the wall. Had the statements I heard all typed out. Stacked next to me were copies of the photos from Anya's camera and the article we'd printed. I logged the originals and the camera into our evidence locker the moment Kabe and I hit the station.
Everything I'd learned was noted neat and tidy. Now it was just a matter of filling in the right boxes for the judge.
Kabe went tense next to me. I coulda been fifty feet away and sensed it. Tap him with a finger and he'd shatter. I looked up to see Sheriff Simple filling the doorframe. "Let Diamond handle it. Get in here." The man's growl could scare a bull off his feed.
"Yessir." You did not mess with that tone. Learned it early, learned it good. I jerked my chin at Diamond, slapped Kabe on the back and hustled into his office. "What can I do for you, sir?"
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Simple eased himself behind his desk and into his chair.
"Sit down, shut the door." I did both, although not in the order he said it. Rocking back so hard the springs complained, he crossed his arms over his chest and just looked at me. I don't know what the heck I'd done, but when the man acted like that someone was about to get their hide tanned. "Were you back out at the Harding place?"
I guessed that someone was likely me.
"Yessir, yesterday and the day before that." Maybe I was about to get whooped for overtime these last couple of days.
I hadn't clocked it, wasn't really thinking of doing so, but Simple wouldn't have known that. "Working on the woman that supposedly fell—I called in a couple times. Things came up and I got real suspicious. Since I was at loose ends these last couple a days, figured I'd just keep myself occupied.
Found the camera that seemed to disappear. It's got photos of her husband in it, time stamped at a time he says he wasn't there. He's wearing the same gear he had on when we went up to recover the body. That's the affidavit we're working on so I can take it over to the judge."
Simple didn't uncross his arms, bad sign, and he sucked on his teeth like he needed help with thinking. "Was that boy out there with you?"
"Yessir, Mr. Varghese was with me." Felt so awkward calling Kabe mister anything, but I didn't want to sound too familiar. "He's a good climber."
"Isn't he also a person of interest?"
Yep, I'd walked into that pile of manure. I thought up a ton of excuses about Fred and Jack and just about everyone else.
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Finally I chucked 'em all and shot straight. Lying would just write itself across my face. "As much as anyone nearby was, yessir."
With a nod, Simple untangled that death grip he had on his own chest. Instead he started drumming his fingers against the arms of his old leather desk chair. I couldn't reckon whether I was better or worse off than before. "Where did you spend the night?"
"I don't figure how..."
Every inch of his body stilled. "Just answer me, Joe."
It was camping. Done it a million times and never meant nothing before. "Back of my truck, sir." Shouldn't mean nothing now.
Simple's eyes flicked up to the scarred door behind me.
Through the grimy glass he could see everything that mattered in the squad room, or at least he always seemed to.
"With him?"
There wasn't enough stupid in the world for me to try and pretend I didn't know which
him
Simple meant. "Well, I could have left him outside to freeze, but I thought that might seem rather un-neighborly of me." I winced at the snot tone in my own voice. But Simple was leading me toward a river I didn't want to cross.
Simple let me stew for a bit longer than I really liked.
Finally, he took a right deep breath. "Ramon apparently thought some of the same things you did about Warner's story." The man sounded tired. Deep down soul-tired. "Don't even open your mouth, Joe, hear me out." I really hadn't been thinking to speak. Didn't seem there was much I needed 173
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to say right at that point. "You know Ramon, there's old biddies who gossip less." Another heavy sigh, and I realized Simple didn't want to be saying what he was about to be saying. "From what I hear tell, he overheard you and that Mr.
Varghese on one of the channels. You got any idea of what he says came through? Tell me it's just Ramon, being nasty and throwing things up outta proportion. Tell me he's lying, Joe."
I ran my hands up over my scalp and laced the fingers over the top of my head. Maybe it might keep my brains from exploding out my ears. "Depends some on what he said." Oh man, I sounded guiltier than a dog caught in the hen house with feathers on his nose.
Simple nodded and leaned forward so his elbows rested on the old wood desk. Like his own thoughts might pain him as well, Simple rubbed his forehead with his fingers and stared at his palms. Without looking me in the eye, not that I coulda taken that, he laid it out. "Something along the lines of you and that Kabe seeming to have gotten real familiar with each other real quick. And in a way most men don't get with other men. 'Cept Ramon wasn't so nice with how he said it."
It knocked the wind outta me as bad as if I'd been kicked.
Had to drop my head between my knees and try and find where my breath ran off to. Shakes hit so hard and fast, they nearly sent me off the chair. All I wanted to do was run, but I was penned in by a few hundred miles of fence. There was nowhere to go. The front edge of the storm had just tore through and all hell was about to break loose behind it. I tried to say something, anything, that might put that horse back in the barn and nothin' would come out.
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"Holy shit, Joe." Myron hissed it out like he'd been burned.
"Holy mother loving shit! Okay, let's start from the ground up on the hornets' nest you've stuck your hand in. The boy's a con on active parole. Narcotics charges. You're the one who told me about it. He's a person of interest in an investigation into what you seem to think is not an accidental death. And from what you told me, it probably ain't. You're gonna mess that up for a jump in the sack. With a dick, no less. And you were caught at it by Ramon-fucking-Piestewa, the one mouth who will make sure everyone in three counties knows. And it's gonna swell with the telling. Do you not see the twenty levels of wrong this is?"
"I'm sorry, sir." My spine leaked jelly, I couldn't hardly raise up from bent over. It took every bit of strength in my arms to lift my chest enough I could even look at the man. "I was weak and I fell..."
"Save that whiny shit for your Bishop, Joe." Simple snapped. The whipcrack in his voice yanked me upright like a bit-chain yanked short. "I can't say that it don't knock some of my notions of you right down to the core. But that's between you and whatever God y'all are talking to." He pounded the desk with his fist a couple times, punctuating his next words. "Me, I got to deal with the here and now and the laws of the great state of Utah, not to mention those of Garfield county." Blowing out the frustration in one big huff, Simple shook his head. "I will tell you, since taking office, you're one of the few men I rely on all the time. I always knew, until this moment, that Joseph Peterson would never put anything in front of his job. Diamond, damn good deputy, 175
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but half the time she's out 'cause her kid's sick these days.
Nick, Mike, Spencer ... hell, most of the time I wonder how they made it through the academy and then I know why I'm stuck with them in the middle of nowhere ... there ain't nothing they can really mess up out here. Pretty much it's you, Donna and Jess that carry this department right now."
Things got real quiet for a bit. One of those heavy silences of the sort that linger 'round funeral parlors. "And I hate to do this. You're suspended, Joe, while I figure out what I got to do. Gimme your badge and your sidearm."
Lord, oh Lord, I shoulda listened to that voice in my head saying
don't
. Rolled over, taken a walk in the woods to drain the lizard and stroked off. Instead, I'd caved to seduction ...
who was I lying to? I'd seduced him. Sin had walked over and I'd embraced it whole hog. Now here my indiscretions came home to roost in spades. Messing up my career, messing up my life, yeah, them's bad enough, but I might have messed up a case. Bring in some hot shot lawyer mouthpiece from Salt Lake and they'd hand me my butt in bite-size pieces.
There's people you let down ... and then there's
people you
let down.
"Sir, I ah..."
"Joe, don't." His hands went up like he tried to push away the bad thoughts. "Just stop, gimme your badge and your piece." Something like an attempt at a smile blew across his face and died. "You're going to sit on your ass for a while." As he talked I un-holstered my piece, removed the clip and cleared the live round before sliding them across the desk.
That didn't go down half as hard as taking the badge outta 176
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my wallet. It felt like I was tearing my soul out with it and I barely heard Simple. "Go hunting, fishing, I don't care. I got to think. I can't do it while you're sitting there. So you need to just walk out and go home." Feeling half nekkid I stood and started to walk toward the door. "Joe." Simple's voice caught me mid stride. "I'll need the rifle, keys to your patrol car, too."
My Lord, just rip out my gut and hand it to me. I had plenty of rifles and guns at home, but the weapons I carry for service, they feel like a part of my body. "Yessir." Nothing more than a mumble came out. I had to force more volume into my voice to be heard. With my chest knotted up like it was, I barely managed to get it out. "I gotta take Kabe back to T's place. I'll bring the car when I come back 'round. I was off duty, just scouting on my two days off, so I took my own truck, left the car at the house."
"You can drive me out to your place, Joe." I watched as Simple took my sidearm and badge, pulled open the desk drawer and dropped them in. It was likely the longest seconds of my life. With the finality of a closing casket, he slid the drawer shut then stood. "I'll take this guy out to T's and come on back to the station. See what I'm going to do about the paperwork, how I'm going to work this out."
"You don't need to do that, sir." Why I couldn't dredge up the stones to tell him to shove it, I don't know. Maybe all those years of Sunday school wedged in my head, kept me polite when I wanted to be putting the hurt on anyone I could get my hands on.
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"Yes I do." The funeral dirge sounded again. "I really do. I can't have you in uniform right now."
I did not want to know it, but I had to. "'Cause of what I am?" The question reeked of bitter. And for just this once, I didn't much care.
"'Cause of what you did. It was damn stupid, Joe. Damn stupid. And when I get past the damn stupid part of it I'll deal with all the other shit it brings up." Simple settled into the wide-legged, hands on his middle cop stance. "You have dropped a load of manure in my lap the size of Red Rock Canyon."