Alive and Killing (A David Wolf Novel) by Jeff Carson

Author:Jeff Carson [Carson, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2013-11-30T05:00:00+00:00

…

They drove the whole hour and twenty minutes back to Glenwood Springs like they had most of the way there—in silence.

Wolf took advantage in the lull to listen to his voicemail—a message from Patterson calling as per his request—and then typed out a message to Rachette and Patterson that said, Rachette, as you were, Patterson, I need you at the station in thirty minutes.

A few seconds later they responded with their own texts and Wolf sat back and zoned out on the passing rapids of the Colorado River.

“You want me to drop you off at your car first?” She asked just before they reached town.

“No, I’d rather stick with you, if you don’t mind.” Wolf said.

She shrugged, showing no sign of annoyance, and exited a different ramp at Glenwood Springs than they’d entered the highway on, and then headed south through the back streets with expert sense of direction. Finally, for the second time of the day, she stopped in front of Bernadette Richter’s house.

“I’ll just stay here, if you don’t mind.” Wolf said preemptively.

She looked over and creased her forehead. “You don’t want to come back in?”

“Nah, I’ll leave the FBI work to you. Besides, our partnership is supposed to be secret, right?”

She nodded and exhaled. “Thanks. I’ll be a few minutes.”

Wolf nodded, and watched her through the streaming droplets of water on the windshield.

She hopped the tiny picket fence gate and walked with a quick stride up through the yard, and then skipped two steps at a time up the wooden stairs to the front porch. She moved like a ballet dancer with a gun, Wolf thought.

Wolf took out his phone and hit the number.

“Hello?”

“Hey. How’s it going over there?”

“Good,” Patterson said in a chipper voice. “How are things going with you? Any progress?”

“Getting there. On that note, are you back at the station?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get on a free computer.”

Wolf heard her soft breathing and then the squeak of a chair.

“Okay,” Patterson said, “Just a second, booting up.”

“Great,” Wolf looked up at the house. Luke was inside in open front door, shadowed against the brightly lit interior of the house. He could see Mrs. Richter smiling up at her, and turning to smile at the male FBI agent who stood next to Luke. The door closed slowly, and then shut.

Wolf looked at the perfectly manicured lawn, now soaked in the rain, and the trimmed rose bushes, and the clean soil of the garden on the side of the house, and the mailbox with the flag up, and the fresh outside paint job.

“Okay,” Patterson said. “I’m on.”

“I need you to check on someone,” Wolf said.

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