One Mile Under
One Mile Under
Andrew Gross
The heart-pounding new thriller from the co-author of five No. 1 James Patterson bestsellers including Judge and Jury and Lifeguard, and the Sunday Times bestsellers The Blue Zone and Reckless.Leading a tour down the rapids outside Aspen, Colorado, whitewater guide Dani Haller comes across the body of a close friend. Refusing to believe it was an accident, Dani uncovers evidence that backs up her suspicions and takes her case to Wade Dunn, local police chief and her ex-stepfather.Wade insists the case is closed but Rooster, a hot-air balloon operator, claims he saw something that Dani needs to know. Before she can find out, however, Rooster plunges to his death in a fiery crash. Dani threatens to go public with her evidence, and finds herself thrown in jail.When ex-detective Ty Hauck receives word that his god-daughter is in trouble, he immediately jumps to her aid. Together he and Dani step foot into a sinister scheme running deep beneath the surface of a quiet, Colorado town that has made a deal with devil to survive.
Copyright (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
Harper
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
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London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2015
Copyright © Andrew Gross 2015
Andrew Gross asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780007384266
Ebook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780007484478
Version: 2015-02-04
Contents
Cover (#u197c3e9c-0bc1-5366-9173-e99b51598786)
Title Page (#u10b958a8-c331-54de-84b8-d30c43ac6dae)
Copyright
The Cradle
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Adrift
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
The Falls
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
One Mile Under
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Novels by Andrew Gross
About the Publisher
THE CRADLE (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
CHAPTER ONE (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
Dani Whalen noticed the first slivers of whitewater ahead on the Roaring Fork River, the current picking up.
“Okay,” she called out to the eight people in helmets and life vests aboard her raft, “it’s been pretty much a nature hike so far. Anyone ready for a little fun?”
As if on cue, the young couple from L.A. decked out in their bright Lululemons, Maury and Steve from Atlanta, he just a month into his retirement from a sales job, and the family from Michigan with their kids in the bow, all shouted back in unison, “We are!” and “Let’s do it!”
“Good to hear!” Dani said, catching the sight of spray up ahead from the opening set of rapids known as Entrance Exam, “’cause you’ve come to the right place.”
Dani was a whitewater guide along the stretch of the river known as Slaughterhouse Falls, outside Aspen, Colorado. And by “fun,” she meant navigating the series of eight Class Three and Four rapids that were the main draw of the river’s four-mile run. Not that there was much real danger. They were all well-protected, of course, and Dani had done this run hundreds of times with barely a hitch. But the first sign of froth rising usually did engender a blanched face or two—Class Fours had a way of doing that to first-timers. But Dani knew exactly how to get them going as well.
On any morning, she could point to an eagle soaring above the tree line, or a long-branch elk with its doe along the river’s edge; or a silver trout streaking underneath them in the current, which was definitely picking up now. That’s why she loved what she did. That, and the triumphant yelps and whoops that were always a part of being shot out of Crossbow, icy water cascading all over you.
But it was the thrill of whitewater that was truly in her blood.
She had been a geology major back in college, back east at Bowdoin in Maine, and she could easily have been in med school or doing fourteen-hours days on Wall Street like a lot of her friends, probably making more in one month than what she pulled in in a season out here. But this river was in her blood. She’d grown up on it. She knew most anyone who had anything to do with it. After college she came back for the summer, and started earning money doing for work what she’d always done for love, and entering a few competitions. She knew she wasn’t exactly building a real life for herself remaining out here—guiding in the summer, teaching snowboarding to the youngsters in the winter—certainly not a career. Her dad was an orthopedic surgeon, at Brigham and Women’s Hospital back in Boston, but he was in Chile right now on a teaching fellowship. Her older sister, Aggie, was in med school in Austin, and her younger brother, Rick, the real brain of the family, was studying 3-D graphic engineering at Stanford.
But Dani loved what she was doing—not to mention she could make it over the Gallows, a Class Five on the Colorado River with a twenty-foot drop, as well as any of the guys. And for her there was no payback better than the wide-eyed thrill and the yelps of exhilaration from a family being shot out of Cartwheel, with its 180-degree spin, to remind her of how much happier she was out here than back east behind a desk somewhere. In her skin-hugging neoprene vest and Oakley shades, her sun-streaked curly blond hair up in a scrunchie, her blue eyes focused on the river up ahead, every day was a reminder, that for the time being at least, she’d made the right choice.
That morning, she was handling the early morning run. Out at eight, back by noon. It was one of those picture-perfect Colorado days: the sky blue, the scent of aspens filling your nostrils, whitewater biting at you from the late spring runoff. Megan and Harlan, nine and eleven, were up in front with their parents right behind them. Dani didn’t want to scare them, though navigating the Falls pushing around two thousand cubic feet per second did require a bit of technique. Everyone was laughing, pitching in paddling, enjoying the ride. Her job was to give them the time of their lives.
As they made their way around Jake’s Bend, for the first time they could see the froth from Entrance Exam rising into the air. That’s when you knew you didn’t come here for a nature ride.
“Look!” Harlan was the first to point up ahead.
“I don’t know …” Dani said teasingly, “those Exams are looking a little angry this morning. I hope everyone studied up!” It was a bit of a performance, of course, to build the tension. The real trick was not letting them realize that. She always loved catching those first looks of anxiousness on everyone’s faces about what lay ahead.
“We may lose a few of you over the side,” she said, “so remember what I said if you end up going in.” Feet-first, and not to struggle against the current. And if they got trapped in an eddy, to just relax, not fight it, and sooner or later it would pop you back out. Dani had to tell them all that—like a flight attendant pointing out the exits on a plane—but in three years of guiding she hadn’t had an incident yet. “You people on the left, I’m gonna need a little help today, okay? I need you to paddle like crazy as soon as I give the word. Otherwise, we won’t make it through. You all up for that?”
They all took hold of their paddles and responded with nods of determination. “We are!”
“Good,” Dani said, maneuvering the raft down the left side of the rapids.
“So what about us …?” Steve, the retired salesman from Atlanta who was on the right side asked with some disappointment.
“Okay, you guys on the right, I didn’t mean to leave you out …” Dani held back, timing it perfectly as they reared, about to go over the first big dip. “All you have to do is just hold on for your lives!”
The froth kicked up and the raft plunged about five feet as she traversed through the tricky S-curve at the top of Entrance Exam, a chute of three interlocking, swirling rapids. The large raft careened against a rock. Everyone screamed as they were thrown up and down, out of their positions. “Okay, left side … Get ready …” Dani warned. “We’re gonna take on some big-time water in a second.” The raft kicked sideways, bouncing up out of a hole like a rubber bath toy in a tub.
“Now, paddle, everyone! Paddle!”
They lurched forward, nine paddles propelling them down the chute, icy water spilling in from all sides. Everyone on the left side worked feverishly, letting out screams and whoops. Dani guided the raft around and they spun through the last part virtually sideways, a huge “Whoa!” sounded as they dropped down another four-foot dip and then bounced out as if ejected by a slingshot, water cascading everywhere.
“All right!” Dani hollered. Everyone was screaming and drenched. “Everyone like that?”
“That was so cool!” Megan shouted, as they made it into a calmer stretch in between rapids.
“We lose anyone?” Dani asked above the whitewater roar. “Look around. I get docked if I don’t bring everyone back. Harlan, still with us, up there?”
The young girl was gleeful. Most fun ever. Her older brother, though, didn’t seem to think so and looked about as white as a ghost. Dani called up front, “What’s the matter, Harlan, you eat something that didn’t agree with you this morning?”
“No, ma’am,” Harlan said, blanched. “That was just really scary, that’s all.”
Everyone laughed.
“Well, now you’re a pro. From here on, it’s a piece of cake. And left side, that was great work! I want to thank you all for pulling us through. I did mention, didn’t I, that this was my first trip down, solo …” They all turned back to her. “No? Gosh, I left that out. I thought I’d told you all that. Well, maybe not my first, actually. I did do a demo run with one of the instructors when they gave me the job.”
Everyone was laughing. Barney’s Revenge was next. A legitimate Class Four. Followed by the Falls. Then One Too Far, where after you’re sure you’re through and start to relax, there’s this unexpected five-foot dip where your stomach drops along with the raft—the spot where Dani always yelled out, “Well, that’s the one too far!”
By Hell’s Half Mile they’d all been scared, exhilarated, bounced around like on a barroom bronco. Totally drenched. There were only a couple of more rapids to go. The Baby’s Cradle and Last Laugh, both less challenging Class Twos and Threes. The river was slightly calmer down here. Flat water, it was called. Though because of all the rains of the past week and the late spring runoff, there was a ton of water pushing them around, so every rapid posed a little challenge.
“Coming up on the Cradle …” Dani called out, a series of five interlocking chutes that gave you the sense of being rocked back and forth, hence the name. The first one always took you by surprise. She said, “I know I kinda gave you all the impression that it was going to be a piece of cake from here on in … Well, sorry—” As if from nowhere, the current grabbed them. “You all better start to paddle, guys … ’cause I’m afraid I lied!”
The next sensation was your stomach plummeting like a jet that had just dropped three thousand feet, dipping and rising, water spilling in. The adrenaline was rising. Everyone screamed. It was slightly tricky here, bounce off a rock and come out of a turn the wrong way and you could capsize. Once, Dani spun around and had had to make it through Slingshot backward and had almost fallen out herself. This time she nailed it perfectly, excited whoops of “All right!” and “Piece of cake!” coming from Harlan, who was now clearly enjoying himself, along with a lot of water-soaked smiles.
“You guys are proving to be tougher than I thought. So next up—” Dani positioned herself to take on the next rapid.
That was when she saw something up ahead along the shore that didn’t seem right.
It was just a flash of red at first, below the third of the Cradle’s rapids, the easiest, called Baby’s Rattle. For a second it just looked like an overturned kayak floating there, which happened occasionally. Everyone else was either paddling or laughing at their drenched raft mates and hadn’t noticed it yet.
But as she drew closer, her worst fears grew real. It wasn’t just a kayak out there, there was something inside. Someone in it. The flash of red she saw turned out to be the rider’s wind jacket. Suddenly the people up front spotted it, too, pointing.
“Oh my God, what’s that! There’s someone in there!” Harlan’s mother exclaimed.
“I see it,” Dani said, feathering the raft closer. “Everyone just stay calm.” Though inwardly she acknowledged that this wasn’t a good sign. “We’re gonna pull in over here and I’ll go take a look.”
She pitched the raft along the easiest route down the next chute, her heart beating anxiously now. She knew most of the people who rode out here, especially the ones who came out this time of the morning.
“I’m gonna pull in over there.” She steered toward a shallow rock bed up ahead along the shore. “I want you to all get out.” That way the raft wouldn’t continue to drift downstream with her team still in it. “Steve, Dale,” she said to the two largest guys, “I want you to help me drag the raft up onto shore. Everyone please wait here. I’m gonna go take a look. I’m really sorry you have to see this.”
They disembarked and dragged the raft up onto the shore bed until it was secure. Dani grabbed the radio out of the nylon gear case and clipped it to her belt. “Everyone, please, wait here. The current’s a little tricky and can take you by surprise. So whatever you do, don’t wade in after me.”
They all muttered, okay.
She ran along the shallow rock bed in her Teva sandals, until she got as close as she could to the overturned craft. It was trapped in an eddy pool, water swirling all around. Some forty feet from where she was. The current was still powerful here, enough to make what she was doing dangerous. Dani traversed her way across the rocks, slick as ice from a few thousand years of water rushing over them, her rubber sandals seeking whatever traction she could find. If she slipped, the current would hurl her down the final leg of the Cradle. She’d be separated from her crew. Not to mention, it was dangerous. She had no helmet. This wasn’t exactly smart.
Once or twice she almost slipped and had to catch herself, whitewater lashing at her legs. The overturned kayak was maybe ten yards from her now, on its side in the swirling pool. No sign of movement inside. The current tugging at her from all around.
Without a rope or a partner, she knew what she was doing really wasn’t the smartest idea.
Finally, she made it across, straddling the eddy where the kayak had come to a stop.
“Can you hear me?” she called out. But whoever was inside wasn’t responding and hadn’t moved. She could see it was a guy, but his face was in the water, the current slashing all around. He wasn’t wearing a helmet, either. Everyone always thought they could take this river without a care. Dani bent down, positioning her legs on the rocks for traction, and flipped the body over on its side.
Her stomach dropped, just as precipitously as if she had plummeted over the falls herself. She stared for a moment, shocked and disbelieving, denial, then sorrow filling her inside.
She knew him.
She stared into the dead rider’s drained, colorless face.
She knew him well.
CHAPTER TWO (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
Trey Watkins, Charles Alan Watkins III, whom everyone always jokingly referred to as “Your Honor,” because his name sounded more like that of a Supreme Court judge, than someone who could ski the back terrain at Aspen Highlands with the best of them. He’d done a few off-terrain videos in a few Warren Miller ski films—and rock-climbed out at Maroon Bells in the summer. He also used to teach hang gliding off the summit of Ajax.
Dani also knew he could get down this river without a hitch in the worst of conditions, and this surely wasn’t that.
There were abrasions all over his face and a fresh, oozing wound on his skull, and his neck was pitched at a horrifying angle. She grabbed his wrist and looked for a pulse, not finding even a hint of a heartbeat. Oh, Jesus, no … She rested him back down in the river.
Trey.
She knew he came out and did an early run before work sometimes, just to keep his feet in the game, now that he had a regular job. Regular, meaning off of skis, the mountain, or the river. She recalled how a few years back he and Dani had ended up together after last call at the Black Nugget, when Dani had come back after college after her mother had died. It wasn’t much of a relationship, or even what you’d call a fling. Trey wasn’t exactly boyfriend material back then. He was a quiet, rugged guy from a small town up north, and with his long ponytail, his washed-out, blue-eyed smile, and that easy, but confident way, women always seemed to flock to him. As Dani had a couple of times, maybe a little rootless and angry back then over her mom.
But somehow Allie Benton made all that change. Trey settled down, married, cut his hair. He even got a totally “straight” job managing the Outdoor Adventures shop in town. They had a kid. Petey. Who everyone said made Trey a changed man. Dani had last seen him a couple of months ago at the Post Net store in town. He was mailing off an application to the national ski trade show. He’d developed this custom mounting for those GoPro action cameras that skiers and riders put on their helmets, and which they were selling like crazy in the store. Dani remembered thinking, Who’d ever figure Trey Watkins for an entrepreneur? Amazing what having a kid could do.
And here she was staring at him now. Bloodied and crumpled. Those washed-out blue eyes that looked like Roger Daltrey’s of the Who stilled. It didn’t make a bit of sense where they were. Trey could handle a rapid like the Cradle with Petey on his lap. He could do it blindfolded, even with this amount of water being pushed around. Dani inspected his kayak. She didn’t see any gashes or dents. She looked at the oozing abrasion on the side of his head. She just closed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief.
Poor Trey.
She thought about trying to drag the body out and administer CPR, but he was gone. It was clearly too late. She took out the radio from her belt. The company bus was set to meet them all not too much farther downstream. It was already on its way there.
“Rich. Rich …” she called in. “Can you hear me? It’s Dani.”
No one answered. Only a scratchy static came back.
“Rich, get on the horn, quick, I need you,” she said, trying again. “It’s urgent. Something’s happened here.”
“You at the fords already?” Her tour partner finally came on the line. “God, you’re early, Dani, it’s only—”
“Negative, Rich. I’m at the bottom of the Cradle and we’ve got some trouble here. There’s been an accident.”
“Oh, shit,” he went, imagining the worst. “Everyone okay …?”
“Not us,” Dani said. “It’s Trey Watkins. His raft flipped over. There’s a gash on his head. He’s not breathing, Rich.”
“Trey? Oh my God …” Everyone knew him. “Any sign of a pulse?”
“Negative, again. I can’t believe this, Rich.” Trey could ride with the best of them out here. The most challenging water was all well behind him. She looked back and saw her raft team all gathered on the shore, looking on. “I’m holding him here, Rich. He’s dead.”
CHAPTER THREE (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
Chief Wade Dunn kneeled down on the rocks overlooking the river, as the Pitkin County Rescue Team pulled the kid out of the water.
Not a kid really. He was twenty-nine. One of those adrenaline junkies around town who did it all. Off-terrain skiing. Paragliding. Mountain biking. The on-site opinion of one of the EMTs who inspected the body was blunt-force trauma to the head and possibly a broken neck. Any one of those rocks could have caused it. No telling how far the raft had continued down. Made you wonder. Wade watched, lifting his Stetson custom cowboy hat. Trey Watkins was also a topflight river rider. This far downriver, he was way past anything that might have been thought of as a challenge. Wade knew his young wife. Allie. Pretty, and must be quite a gal to tame someone like Trey. And things were just starting to take off for the guy. A new kid, and he had this camera-mount business that was just getting off the ground. Allie’s father, Ted Benton, who owned a rib restaurant and a small hotel in town, once joked to Wade that his son-in-law was going to make them all look poor.
Wade watched the rescue boys do their job. Look at him now.
They lowered down a stretcher, then hoisted the body back up the slope, and cut a path in the brush to where the emergency vehicles had parked on the road. Wade stood up and looked at the body as they brought it by. It looked exactly like what it probably was: the kid must’ve flipped and struck his head on the rocks. Enough to cause that wound or to break his neck. Probably trying out some slick new move. Grab some air or a spin-o-rama, or whatever they call them today. And not wearing a helmet. Not as smart as ol’ Ted thought, apparently. These kids, they all think they’re invincible. Come here from all parts, think their life is a fucking X Game. They’d do a drug and alcohol test in the postmortem. Who’d bet on what they’d find?
Thrill junkie.
He was like that once, too, Wade reflected. Invincible, or he surely thought so. That was back when he was the sheriff in Aspen. Not Carbondale, the little commuting town thirty miles down the road where everyone lived who couldn’t afford to live in Aspen. Shit, he could’ve pretty much run for mayor back then. Or governor. Anything he wanted. He knew all the big celebs—Don Johnson, Melanie Griffith, Goldie Hawn, and all the big CEOs flying in on their Learjets and Citations. Now look at him. Divorced. Twice. Widowed once, though they had been living apart. A couple of stints in detox. Running a police force one-tenth the size of what he used to, and lucky to have the damn job at that. Looking a whole lot older than his fifty-seven years. Basically broke. Now he was what, the mayor of the sober community here in town? Younger, more ambitious men all waiting in line for him to retire.
Then there was Kyle. His boy from Wade’s first marriage. Came back from Afghanistan missing a leg and an arm, and his brain rattling around in his head like loose change. What did they expect him to do in life? And who was going to take care of him? His mom was down in Florida somewhere. Working on a cruise ship, last he heard. Kyle was still rehabbing in a VA hospital in Denver, where he’d been for two years. Learning to eat peas with that new bionic hand they’ve given him. Basically the same age as this kid, Trey.
Kyle had maybe five, six more months and then he was out. Who was going to watch out for him? What with the government cutting back benefits every day, and all the mess with the VA hospitals. Wade went down once a week to see him. Someone was going to have to help him in life. Pay for the kind of van to get him around, or retrofit his house to make it easy to live there. And all those bloody therapists …
“Wade.”
Dave Warrick came up from behind and put a hand on Wade’s shoulder. “Just letting you know, I closed down the river to traffic for the next few days. Until we get this fully figured out. I called into Denver.” The Roaring Fork was in a state park. “Parks Service’ll be sending someone around just to make sure.”
Dave ran the Pitkin County sheriff’s force in Aspen now. Wade’s old position. They had jurisdiction here. He was nice enough. Wasn’t his fault his old boss had been mixing bourbon and OxyContin he’d stolen from his own evidence locker. That had taken every friend Wade had left to get behind him. Not to mention every dollar too.
Wade agreed. “Seems like the right move, Dave.”
“I think you know the family, don’t you?”
“His wife’s.” Wade nodded. “He was from up north somewhere, I think. Maybe from around Greeley.”
“I took a statement from Dani. She said the kid was quite the rider.”
Wade shrugged. “Who knows what he was trying to do. Flips, three-sixties. These kids all watch Shaun White and think they’re him, minus the red hair. Doesn’t matter what they’re riding.”
“I hear you. So you want me to go with you? To see his wife. These things are never easy. Never hurts to have someone along.”
“Thanks.” Dave never used his new position to make Wade feel smaller than he was. “But after twelve years in AA, telling people how their life is about to come tumbling down on them, I think that’s one job I’m equipped to do these days.”
“Well, let me know if I can help.” They stood on the rock, looking. “Just seems like a big fat waste of a life to me.” The Aspen police chief shook his head. “Funny, isn’t it?”
“What?”
Warrick shrugged. “How it was Dani that found him …?”
“Chief, can you come over here …” One of the troopers interrupted them. Dave and Wade both turned, but it was Warrick they were calling. They were getting set to load the body into the van.
“As I said, let me know if I can help, okay …” Dave patted Wade on the shoulder. “I’ll be in touch when we have something back from medical.”
“Thanks.”
Funny … What was funny was that for twenty years, Wade felt like his life was running down his own set of rapids. Lying to everybody. Hiding what he’d done. Losing his wife. Then his town. Knowing one will capsize you in the end, just like Trey here.
Charles Alan Watkins III. Sounds like some judge somewhere. Wade watched them load the body. You can only make it through so long, right? Riding through life that way. Without a helmet. That’s the truth.
Wade scratched his head and headed back to his car.
He knew sure as anything, one time he wouldn’t make it out of those rapids, either.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
There was a kind of memorial gathering that night at the Black Nugget, the bar in Carbondale where a lot of the river riders and top skiers hung out. A few of them had already gone over to the house and paid their respects to Allie. No one could believe what happened: the bottom of the Cradle getting the best of someone like Trey. Everyone agreed that it had to have happened farther upstream, like at the Falls or Slingshot, and the current carried him down. That was the only way anyone could see it.
Allie told a few people that her husband had gone out the previous night. A friend of his from the shop was getting married and a bunch of the guys took him to Justice Snow’s, a bar in Aspen, for shooters and kamikazes. Apparently he made it back home around midnight. Allie said maybe he was a little tipsy when he came to bed, but in the morning he was up at half past six pumped to catch a run or two before work. All that new water out there, two thousand cubic feet per second. “Be back before nine, hon,” he said and gave her a kiss.
Same ol’ Trey.
At the bar, a bunch of them were still sitting around after nine P.M., going through their favorite Trey stories. His good friend Rudy was there, whom he’d ski off-terrain with for years. And John Booth, a paragliding instructor and sometime river guide, and his girlfriend, Simone. Alexi, a ski rep, and couple of others sat around, everyone trading stories and pitching in for beers. Dani was on her third Fat Tire. Rudy was telling one how he and Trey were once skiing out of bounds behind Highlands, trying to map out some new terrain for a Warren Miller film.
“The snow was pretty loose back there. The mountain had issued an avalanche alert, but Trey said the powder seemed pretty firm. ‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘Roots, you and I can outski whatever comes down that mountain. Look at it,’ he said, talking about all the fresh powder. ‘It’s once-a-season quality, Roots. One hundred percent pure.’”
“That was Trey,” said Alexi, lifting his drink.
“That was Trey, pre-Allie,” John Booth clarified.
“Totally pre-Allie,” Dani said. “Post-Allie, Trey wouldn’t even cut to the front of a lift line.”
“You got that right,” John’s girlfriend, Simone, said.
“So we’re zooming down this fall line,” Rudy went on, “and Trey’s ripping down the slope at full speed, eight feet of air at a time. I’m just doing my best to keep up, maybe twenty yards behind. And suddenly the ground shakes and I hear this rumble … I look behind and it’s this wall of white coming at me from the summit. I didn’t even have a second to react. Only to think to myself, Okay, Roots, this is the day that you die! It just slammed into me and took me away. I figured I’m gonna hit some tree at a hundred miles per hour or be buried under ten feet of snow, and Trey and I are goners. Finally it stops. I’m completely covered up. Not a sound. No one around. I don’t even know which way is up. I’m yelling, trying to make an air pocket around me and I got my GPS, but who knows if Trey’s got his. Or if he’s in the same boat. I’m pretty scared, but I’m also so f-ing mad at him for dragging me down there. I still had one of my poles and I’m jamming it in the direction I think up is, screaming holy hell, trying to show anyone around I was there.
“Suddenly, I hear someone calling my name. ‘Roots. Roots? Are you there?’ Guess who? I’m going, ‘I’m here! I’m right fucking here, you sonovabitch. You’re alive!’ I’m jerking my pole around like this.” Rudy thrust his two arms in all directions.
“So he’s standing right above me. Trey, bless his soul. I’m going, ‘Get me out of here! Get me out!’” The sonovabitch has got to hear me. Then I hear, ‘Listen, dude, I’m sorry to leave you like this, but I gotta meet someone at Starbucks. I’m gonna head back up to the lodge for a bit. Hey, you want a latte, man? I’ll bring one back for you. You like yours with or without froth …?’ I’m screaming, ‘Get me out!’ I start jerking the pole around. I wanted to kill him. Suddenly I break through. Turns out I was only about two feet under. He said he could see my boots the whole time. Who the hell knew …”
“Just be glad that it was Trey you were with and not me,” John Booth said, grinning; “otherwise you’d still be down there.”
“Funny.” Rudy sneered at his friend, taking a swig of beer.
“I actually saw him at Starbucks, just after that,” Alexi, the ski rep, said in his French accent, but with a completely straight face. “He said he left you back there and asked should he go back and dig you out? I said, ‘Aw, what the hell.’ He asked if he should bring you a latte and I told him, ‘Look, don’t go all crazy now …’”
“That was Trey,” Artie, his ski tuner in the shop, said.
They all clinked mugs again.
“It just makes no sense.” John Booth shook his head. “Where this happened. The Falls, maybe. Or even Catapult. Trey could do the Cradle with Petey on his lap.”
“Or why he was out there without a helmet?” Dani said.
“Trey didn’t wear a helmet,” John Booth said. “Off-terrain maybe, or if he was doing tricks.”
“You’re wrong,” Dani said. “I saw him lots of mornings out there. Since Petey was born he damn well did wear one.”
“Anyone find one?” John Booth looked at her. “The rescue team was all over the place out there.”
Dani shrugged. She had waited around to see after she gave her deposition to the police. “No.”
“So there you go. Probably trying a one-eighty or a rollover, or something, and all that water got to him. Maybe his reactions were a little dulled from the night before, who knows? Anyway, here’s to my man.” John raised his mug. “To Charles Alan Watkins the Third.”
“To Trey!” Everyone at the table joined in.
Through the crowd, Dani saw Geoff Davies come in.
Geoff was the owner of Whitewater Adventure, where Dani worked. He was thirty-four, from Australia, had a master’s degree in psychology, and had moved out here from L.A. after a divorce and bought the business. He built it up, with a clothing line and videos and state-of-the-art equipment. He and Dani had been seeing a bit each other for the last few months. Not a big thing, and probably not the smartest. either. Taking up with the boss. But it was only now and then, and Geoff was an upbeat, good-hearted guy, and smart. And anyway it wasn’t like this was some Fortune 500 company and there was a whole corporate hierarchy where it could get around. Whitewater Adventures had eight full-time employees.
“I heard this was where you could lift one up to Trey Watkins?” Geoff came over to the table.
“That it is,” John Booth said. “One more round,” he said, motioning to Skip behind the bar. A few of them had already had four or five, and that was becoming clear. “Sit right down.”
“Thanks.” Geoff grabbed the empty chair next to Dani. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She shrugged back. Though everybody probably already knew, they always kept things cool and gave each other just a friendly kiss on the cheek.
“So how’re you doing?” He gave her an affectionate stroke to her hair, which Dani had tied back in a thick ponytail. He had wiry brown hair and soft, gray eyes.
“Hanging in there. Everyone get back okay after Rich picked them up?”
“Not exactly how we normally like to end our deluxe Roaring Fork River Thrill Experience … But yes. I gave them all a full refund, of course. Not that anyone really wanted it. Up until then they all had a terrific time and they all said you were great. And how you handled it. They even left some tips for you. It just seemed the right thing to do. Especially with the kids in there.”
“I think it was the right thing.” Dani squeezed his thigh under the table. “That was nice.” The new round of beers arrived and they all toasted Trey one more time, Geoff as well. Dani downed a long swig, maybe a quarter of the mug.
“I heard his father’s coming down tomorrow,” Geoff said. “He’s a farmer from up north somewhere.”
Rudy nodded. “Trey always said he came from a small farm. He mentioned once that lately it had fallen on hard times.”
“There’s been a pretty long drought up that way,” John Booth added.
“Two or three years.”
“Sometimes your luck just runs out.” Rudy shook his head, enough beer that he was growing melancholy. “He just hit a rock the wrong way and … Just a freakin’ accident. Could happen to any of us the same way.”
“It wasn’t no accident.” They all heard a voice ring out from behind them.
Everyone looked around. A guy named Ron was at the bar—Rooster, everyone called him, because he had long, straggly hair, a pockmarked face, and a pointy chin. He was a balloon operator for one of the sightseeing companies in Aspen that took tourists up for a view of the valley. Rooster was in his fifties, a heavy drinker, who was always running his mouth off somewhere. No one cared for him much.
“What are you talking about?” Rudy shifted around.
“Just that it wasn’t no accident,” Rooster said again. His eyes were bright and kind of intense, either from the beer or with mischief, and he sat there, looking at them, seeming kind of pleased. “All I’m saying.”
“What do you mean, it ‘wasn’t no accident’?” John Booth said, mocking Rooster’s grammar. “What the hell was it then?”
“Not for me to say.” Rooster shrugged. “Just that he wasn’t alone.”
“Wasn’t alone …” John shook his head and rolled his eyes. “And you know this, how, Rooster …?”
“’Cause I was up there. This morning. Just after light. And I seen it. I seen what happened.”
There was silence. “You got something on your mind, Rooster, better let it rip,” said Rudy, shifting around in his chair.
For a moment, Rooster puffed out his chest like he was about to. The guy was always a weird duck. He always said he’d been a roadie for the rock group Boston; clearly they’d invited him to the party room one too many times. He didn’t have a whole lot of friends and mostly hung out alone. Dani had seen him drunk once or twice and it wasn’t a pretty sight. He’d been let go from his job by the owner of the tour company, but one of the operators had quit and it was summer, so apparently he was back on a temporary basis. Mostly, she just felt sorry for him.
“We’re waiting, dude …” Rudy tapped his finger. Rudy was large and had had a couple, and was known to have a short fuse. It had been a long day, and they had all lost a friend. It wouldn’t take much for him to let it go. “Now would be the time …”
“All I’m saying is, you didn’t see what I saw.” Ron backed down. He glanced around, looking for a way to get himself out of trouble. “He just wasn’t alone out there, that’s all.” He sat there, bouncing a leg against the barstool, as if thinking, maybe this wasn’t the smartest thing.
“You’re saying someone did this? So who was with him?” John Booth pressed.
Rooster saw that he was sliding headfirst into a mess. He cleared his throat, and stammered a second, evading the question.
“Ron …?” Dani pitched in, seeing he had gotten all nervous. “It’s okay. What did you see …?”
“Nothing,” Rooster finally said. His eyes hung, seeming both shot down and defeated, and they seemed to settle on Dani’s with a kind of contrite, regretful smile. “Nothing more to say.” He raised his glass to Rudy and John. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“C’mon, Rudy, that’s the end of it …” John Booth pulled his friend back around by the arm. “Just Rooster being Rooster. Sit back down and have a wing. We’ve all had a bunch to drink.”
“I ain’t drunk,” Rooster chimed in again. “Been clean for fifteen days now. It’s ginger ale. See …?” He held up his drink. “Anyway—to your friend.” He tilted his glass.
“To Trey …” Rudy nodded grudgingly, turning back around. Under his breath, he muttered, “Asshole.”
“I think you’re right,” Dani said to Geoff, sensing the shift in the mood. “Time for me to move along.” She went into her jeans pocket and came out with a couple of twenties.
“No way,” John Booth and Alexi seemed to say as one. They pushed her money back. “Your money’s not good here. Not after what you had to do today.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“You want to stay with me?” Geoff asked. “It’s a long way back.”
“I’m fine,” she said. She put her hand lightly on his thigh and smiled. “Thanks. But don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Besides, Blu will get me back.” Blu was her three-year-old yellow Lab, who went with Dani everywhere. She stood up and said, “It’s a work night, everyone, or at least it is for somebody out there … Time for me to get back home.”
CHAPTER FIVE (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
Blu got up from snoozing in the back as Dani climbed into her Subaru wagon. “C’mon, Blu, baby …” He stepped up to front, wagging his tail happily. “You’re shotgun, dude. Time to get me back home.”
Carbondale was thirty miles northwest up Route 82, and there were always a bunch of cops out at night. And Geoff was right, she’d probably had had one more than she should. She turned on a CD, a local cover band named Wet Spring. She made the turn onto Main and then went on through the rotary, heading onto 82. She settled in for the forty-minute ride.
Sure, accidents always happened, she knew. And that was likely what it was. John Booth was probably right, he could have been trying out some old spins or flips. He could have been going down backward. There was so much beautiful water, he could have easily hit his head a million ways, with no helmet. You pitch into a rock, or get sucked under by an eddy or thrown by a hole. Anything could happen on the river. They all knew the risks. Trey more than any of them.
Dani sighed. “What did it really matter anyway, right, Blu?” How Trey died. He wasn’t wearing a helmet. It’s a lesson for them all. He was dead.
That’s all.
Around the turnoff for Snowmass, she winced at the thought of Allie and Petey having to suddenly go it alone. To have their world ripped from them. Just like that. Like soldiers in the war, talking one minute, who drive over an IED. One day you’ve got a beautiful family and the sky is blue and the whitewater is rushing. The next day you’re gone.
Her mind flashed back to Rooster: You didn’t see what I saw, that’s all.
That Ron was a hard one to like. An even harder one to put stock in and believe. But what he had said seemed to stay with Dani. It wasn’t no accident?
Well, if it wasn’t an accident, what the hell was it then? Was there another rider out there? Did someone else ram into him, and cause him to spill? Or did someone come out from the shore? There was that rock bed down there by the Cradle.
She tried to imagine Rooster in the air gliding by. Then she let out a sigh of disappointment, suddenly realizing he was totally full of shit. There was no way to see the Slaughterhouse Falls run from anywhere near where the balloons went up in Aspen. Even on a perfect day like yesterday. It was at least a couple of miles away. Whoever had said it was right: the guy was basically a quarter short of a dollar between the ears. And always starting trouble.
Rooster being Rooster again.
That was all.
Wet Spring was singing their hit, “Misunderstood,” which she’d seen them do a couple of times, and Dani couldn’t stop herself from singing along. Blu had his front paws on the divider and his hind legs in the backseat.
From there it was another fifteen minutes to Carbondale. She pulled off Route 82 and into town, which mostly dark now—nothing much happening here after ten P.M.—and turned onto Colorado Street and into her apartment complex: eight attached units facing Mount Sopris. She shared it with Patti, who worked at the yoga clinic, but Patti was away in L.A. doing some certification seminar. Her neighbor’s calico cat, Cici, was slinking out on the lawn. She never strayed very far and sometimes walked along the fence that separated their decks when Dani was drinking her morning coffee or doing her sun salutations. And who, defying conventional wisdom, Blu seemed to get along with rather well.
“Hey, baby.” Dani bent down and picked her up. Cici was purring. “How was your day? Mine was pretty terrible.”
The door opened and Dawn stuck her head out. “Oh, Dani, sorry, she must’ve snuck out. We’ve been calling her.”
“No worries,” Dani said, handing the cat over. “I never mind a visit from my friend.”
“We’ve got a zin open.” Dawn was a massage therapist who worked at the St. Regis, and her boyfriend, Jerry, was a chef at the hotel, too. “You and Blu want to come over? Watch Jon Stewart?”
“Thanks,” Dani said, “but I’ve had enough. Rough day.”
“I know. We heard. So horrible. Did you know him?”
Dani shrugged, opening the door for Blu to go inside. “A little. More a while back than now.”
“You’re sure you don’t want that glass of wine? It’s a good one.”
“Thanks, Dawn. I think I’ll just crash. We’ll do it another time.”
“I understand.” Dawn smiled. “Let me know if we can do anything for you, okay?”
“Thanks, doll. I will,” Dani said back.
Inside, she peeled off the shell she’d had on since this morning and stepped out of her jeans. She threw herself down on the couch and took out the scrunchie from her ponytail and shook out her hair. She massaged her neck a little and blew out a weary blast of air.
Yes. Rough day.
She got up to make herself a cup of tea. Her cell phone vibrated on the counter. Part of her felt like she didn’t even want to look who it was. She already knew who it was anyway. Geoff, making sure she’d made it home. He was a gentleman like that. Part of her just wanted to take a long shower and go to bed and wake up and better things would happen tomorrow. She listened to the buzzing a third time.
She looked at the screen and saw a name she couldn’t place at first. Ronald Kessler.
Who the hell was that? Probably some marketing call. She was about to just let it go to voice mail when curiosity got the better of her and she just answered. “Hello?”
“Dani?”
By the time she put it together who it was he’d already told her. “It’s Ron.”
“Ron?”
“Rooster.”
“Jesus, Rooster … Ron, how’d you get my number?”
“I had it once. Remember, you recommended some customers to us a year or two back.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” It struck her as a little creepy that Rooster had kept her in his phone all this time. “Listen, Ron, it’s a little late and I’m just getting ready—” There was a lot of noise in the background.
“I know it’s late, Dani. I don’t mean to bother you,” he said. “There was just something I had to say. About what happened back there at the bar.”
“Look, we all had a little too much to drink …” In a weird way Dani always had a soft spot for Rooster. In the same way you might feel sorry for a stray cat. The guy was an outcast. But he didn’t mean anybody harm. John Booth was probably right, he’d just taken one too many hits of something back in the day. “But Rudy was right, Ron. Trey had a wife and kid, and you can’t just go around riling people up making accusations that you can’t support.”
“I wasn’t making anything up. And I wasn’t lying. About what I said I saw out there this morning.”
He hesitated just like he had at the bar. She put on the kettle for her tea.
“Ron, if you’ve got something to say, just say it. Or else take it to Chief Dunn.” She knew Rooster knew Wade. Wade was once his sponsor in AA, and that didn’t go so well. Rooster had slipped several times and had a reputation of not being honest in the program. “And just so we’re real here, you can’t even see that part of the river from where the balloons go up. You know that better than anyone.”
“I can’t take it to Chief Dunn. There are some things between us. I know he thinks I’m a few of bricks short of a wall. Everyone does. And maybe I am. Plus, I wasn’t supposed to be where I was out over the river earlier. I was the only one up today and this nice couple, they handed me a hundred-dollar bill to stay up there a while longer and let it drift. That’s why I’m calling you.”
Dani started to grow impatient. “Me?”
“You can take it to Chief Dunn, Dani. He’d want to know this.”
“Ron, please …” Dani put in the tea bag and poured water into the mug. “It’s been a rough day for everyone. And I’m getting ready for bed. So what is it you saw?”
“All I can say is, your friend wasn’t alone out there on that river.”
“I know, that’s what you’ve been saying. Look—”
“He was wearing a red windbreaker, right?”
That took her by surprise. He was.
“And his kayak was blue …?”
Dani didn’t answer, but her hesitation seemed to give Rooster the sense that he’d struck something with that.
“So I’m not so crazy after all, am I? I didn’t know it at the time, but it had to be him, right?”
“So who was out there with him, Ron?” Dani’s attention was suddenly aroused. “Ron, it’s crazy in there. You still at the Nugget?”
“How about you meet me at the balloon field in the morning.” Near the Aspen Industrial Park where the balloons went up from. “I got a ride at seven and we’ll be all tethered back by eight thirty.”
Dani didn’t have a tour in the morning. And, yes, she could take it to Wade. Whatever Ron claimed he saw. He did have the color of Trey’s kayak right, and what he was wearing.
“Will you be there?”
“All right, I’ll be there,” Dani said. She suddenly felt the hairs on her arms stand on edge. She didn’t even like the idea of being alone with him.
“I know he was a friend of yours, Dani. But you were always a fair person to me. Not like some.”
“Yes. I know that, Ron.”
“So I’ll see you at eight thirty, then. After my ride.”
“Okay.”
“And Dani …”
“Yes.”
“I don’t care what anyone thinks, I wasn’t drunk. I wasn’t drunk tonight and I surely wasn’t this morning, either. You believe me, right?”
“Yes, I believe you.” Before she’d left the bar, she checked with Skip, the bartender. To be sure. Rooster had been drinking ginger ale.
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_af279609-28b3-59a7-bc19-092d21859853)
The sun came up slowly over the mountains the next morning, covering the Aspen Valley in streaks of yellow and rose, as the four balloons rose majestically into the sky.
It was a picture-perfect dawn, light dappling the moss, peaks bathed in glinting sunlight. Ron revved the burner with heat, the blue flame shooting into the envelope with a loud hiss, sending the balloon higher.
On board, the four passengers oohed.
“Take a look over there,” Ron directed them. “That’s Aspen Mountain there shrouded in shadow, and as we get up, you can see those two peaks to the west, those are the Maroon Bells, two of over fifty-three mountains in Colorado that are over fourteen thousand feet.”
In his basket was some big-shot financial dude from Connecticut, who was trying to work it out that he and his bundled-up trophy wife could get a private, trying to buy off the launch manager. But it didn’t work out. And a middle-aged couple from Japan, equipped with the requisite camera and one, long fucking lens, Ron admired. At five hundred feet, the four balloons cut a beautiful path across the morning sky, each of them a colorful design of reds, yellows, and greens.
By seven, they were at six hundred feet, the maximum elevation today because of the winds, and Ron cut off the burner, cooling the air.
The view was amazing.
“Wave hi to your mates over there,” Ron said, pointing to the closest companion balloon, maybe a hundred yards away. The Japanese couple waved and the husband aimed his gargantuan lens. The financier and his wife were bickering about where they were going to have lunch later, the burger at Ajax Grille or sushi at Matsuhisa.
Suddenly Ron felt a thud from above. The whole basket rocked back and forth. Everyone looked up. “What the hell was that?” the financial guy asked, his wife clearly a little spooked and not happy in the first place to be sharing the ride with the Japanese couple.
“Don’t know,” Ron said. “Maybe we hit a thermal. It’s kind of like a wind inversion. There’s a breeze today.” He checked out the other balloons to gauge his relative height and noticed he had descended slightly. He opened the valve and shot a blast of flame hissing into the balloon, momentarily lifting it to where it was before. “I think we’re okay. So check out that river to the northwest out there.” He pointed. “That’s—”
The basket wobbled again. He noticed them losing more altitude. Air was definitely leaking from somewhere. He may have to bring this baby down. Then suddenly he heard a tearing sound from above them. The basket lurched again, swaying. Everyone grabbed the sides. Ron shot more heat in, but nothing seemed to be happening. Except that they were losing air.
And altitude.
“Is everything all right?” the financier’s wife asked, looking a little edgy.
Ron looked above and kept pumping as much heat as he could into the envelope. “Don’t really know.”
A call came in on the radio. Steve, in the next balloon. “Ron, you got something wrong on your right side. You’re definitely losing your pitch. Can you see it? You better get yourself down. Pronto.”
“I hear ya,” Ron replied. “Exactly what I’m doing, Sorry, folks, seems to be some kind of malfunction up there. I’m going to have to take her down. Shouldn’t be a problem.” He kept pumping in as much heat as the balloon would take. But still they kept coming down.
“Cole! Cole!” he radioed in to the company attendant at the landing field. “Something’s wrong with the balloon. We’re leaking air. I’m coming back. Now.
“Nothing to worry about,” he said supportively to his passengers, who were now clearly anxious. “We’ve got a malfunction in the canvas. But I’ll get you down. These babies are fit to—”
Suddenly he heard another tear. They all heard it this time. Phhfft. “What the Sam Hill …”
The basket lurched again, this time terrifyingly. Then there was a deep groan emanating from above, hot air leaking out, colder air coming in.
The balloon swaying and collapsing.
Over the radio he heard, “Ron, you’ve got a full-scale implosion going on! I can see it. Get your ass down as fast as you can.”
“I’m trying, I’m trying,” Ron replied. He continued to rev the valves, thrusting as much heat as he could into the envelope, compensating for the cold air rushing in through the tear, to bring them down at a manageable speed.
It wasn’t working.
“What’s going on? What’s going on?” the financial guy was yelling. Their descent started to pick up speed. “Do something!”
“I’m trying, I’m trying,” Ron said. “Everyone be calm.”
They were still five hundred feet up. He looked up and saw the huge tear on one side, a flap in the material buckling and falling over, a huge swath of it suddenly falling down on top of the basket, and to Ron’s horror, catching the flame and suddenly igniting.
The balloon became engulfed in flame.
“Do something!” the financial guy’s wife shrieked, her eyes bulging in terror.
“There’s nothing I can do!” Ron replied, continuing to rev heat into the useless, crumpled canopy. He grabbed the radio. “Mayday, mayday, we’re going down!” They started to fall out of the sky, picking up speed. The ropes holding the basket could catch at any second and then …
The financier’s wife was sobbing on the floor mat. Her husband gripped the basket’s rim and looked down in disbelief. The Japanese couple huddled together.
Ron shouted, “You know a prayer, this would be the time to say it.”
He always wondered what this would feel like. How he would react. In his dreams he had dreamed it many times. It was like a bad trip. And he’d had many of those. “Mayday, mayday!” he screamed uselessly into the radio as the basket began to plummet. “Oh Jesus Lord, we’re going down!”
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_d090c9a0-cc32-54f3-a84d-f3af5bfac97a)
Dani saw it as she headed into town before her rendezvous with Ron.
Around the cutoff to the Aspen Industrial Park just after the airport, traffic was being slowed into one lane. She saw EMT vehicles, their lights flashing, and it seemed as if every cop in the valley was there. A throng of people, many out of their cars, were lining the highway looking on. In the large field which the Aspen by Air Balloon Adventure used as their takeoff site, a plume of black smoke funneled high into the air.
What the hell had happened?
Dani pulled up to one of the cops who was waving on traffic. She recognized him as a guy she had gone to high school with, Wesley Fletcher. She rolled down her window and leaned out of her wagon. “What’s the hell’s going on, Wes?”
“Balloon dropped out of the sky. Five people on board, Dani. Traffic’s being routed onto Rectory Street into town.”
“Five people.” Dani felt her stomach tighten “Whose?” she asked, though she was sure she knew the answer even before the question even was out of her mouth. “Whose balloon was it, Wes?”
“Aspen by Air. Rick Ketchum’s company. They’re up every day.”
“I don’t mean who owned it. Who was operating it?” Dani pressed, a feeling of dread grinding in the pit of her stomach. “The one that went down.”
“All I was told was that there were four tourists on board. And everyone’s dead. And some guy named Ron.”
“Ron?” Dani’s heart went still. Rooster.
“I guess the balloon fell apart at five hundred feet into a ball of flames. But, look, I have to wave you on now, Dani. Gotta get these vehicles routed over onto Rectory, and as you can see—”
“Is that Chief Dunn’s car over there?” She saw a white and green SUV with the Carbondale police lettering on it, among the many vehicles pulled up in the field.
“I think that’s him. I saw him drive up earlier.”
“Thanks, Wes.” Dani pushed on the gas and caught up to the car in front of her. She got as far as the rotary until she realized she no longer had any reason to be here now. She pulled over to the side and let her head drop against the wheel. Poor Rooster. Her heart felt heavy as she tried to imagine such a grisly descent. Things like this just didn’t happen here. But that was only part of it. Part of what was making her insides feel so worrisome. The rest was what Rooster had claimed he’d seen yesterday, and now he was dead. The fool was going around shooting his mouth off.
He wasn’t alone out there. That wasn’t no accident.
Dani looked one last time at the plume of black smoke. Hot-air balloons just didn’t fall out of the sky.
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_da5f2726-8589-542d-bbd2-3d5152bb7cf5)
She waited until the end of the day, until she saw his vehicle parked outside the station back in Carbondale. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to see him at work. Years. Certainly not since her mom had died.
“He’s on the phone,” a female duty officer said. Dani didn’t recognize her.
It wasn’t a big station, tucked into a corner of the Carbondale Town Center. Three or four desks, and some workstations. A room with a vending machine that doubled as an interrogation room. There were one or two detectives; whatever they did, Dani never knew. Any real investigation or forensic work was handled out of Aspen. When Wade took the job—the only job he could get—he joked that it was mostly setting up DUI roadblocks and the occasional marijuana bust.
And now, new state laws had even taken that away from him.
“If you wait over there I’ll tell him you’re here.”
“I’m his stepdaughter,” Dani said. “He’ll see me.”
She went right past her, the duty officer standing up, surprised, going, “Hey!” Wade was at his desk on the phone, his feet propped up against a drawer. The ever-present python-skin boots and that large, turquoise, Indian ring. He’d probably die with them on. On the shelf behind him were a couple of photos. Wade in his glory days. With his arm around Antonio Banderas and Melanie Griffith. Another with a younger-looking ex-president Gerald Ford. There were a couple of Kyle. One in his army uniform while in Afghanistan; the other, he and Wade fishing up in Idaho. Apparently, Dani hadn’t make the cut. There were a couple of AA books stacked on the credenza, and an empty bourbon bottle, which he always said he kept close as a constant reminder of worse days.
“Let me know when they finish up …” Wade was saying. He eyed Dani unhappily, as the young officer who had asked her to wait rushed in after. Wade waved her off with a Don’t worry about it gesture, motioning Dani into a chair.
She didn’t take it.
“I’ll check in with the guy from the Parks Service as soon as he finishes up,” he said. “Be talking with you then. Thanks.” He hung up and took his feet off the open drawer.
“The duty officer out there didn’t make it clear I was on with business,” he said, scowling at Dani like she’d burst in to sell him a new cell phone contract.
“You’ve got a problem, Wade.”
“Thanks for pointing that out to me, Danielle. Let’s see, five people are dead. The whole world’s gonna be breathing down our backs looking for answers. I always knew we did a good job by sending you back east to that fancy college.”
“Six, Wade. There are six people dead. And just to keep the record clear, you didn’t send me. Mom did.”
He wheeled his chair around to face her. “Well, I sure took you, didn’t I? So anyway, six. If you count what happened out on the river. You’ll have to forgive me, it’s been a pretty crazy twenty-four hours here. Not that the two are in any way related.”
“But that’s just the problem.” Dani stepped up to the desk. “I’m pretty sure they are. Related.”
Wade snorted a short blast of air out of his nostrils, his round, sagging eyes regarding her both skeptically and condescendingly. “I asked you to sit, Danielle.”
This time she sank into a hardwood chair across from him.
“And what makes you think some hotshot kid taking a spill on the river would be related to a tragedy like this …?”
“I was headed into to town to meet with Rooster,” Dani said. “Just after it must’ve happened.”
“Rooster?” Wade shrugged.
“Ron. Kessler, I think was his last name. He was manning that balloon.”
“I knew who was manning the balloon, Danielle. And I knew his name. I called him a lot of things, but Rooster wasn’t one of them. All right, you barged in here, you’ve got my attention. I don’t know why your paths would cross with the likes of him, but you were going in to meet with him why …?”
“He was at the Black Nugget last night.”
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me one bit.” Wade snorted derisively.
“A few of us were having a little tribute to Trey. Rooster … Ron was at the bar and cut in about how he saw something yesterday morning from his balloon.”
“He saw something …?” Wade rolled his eyes.
Dani said, “Exactly how I thought you’d react, Wade. And why Ron said he didn’t want to come to you with it in the first place. He heard us talking and he said what happened out there to Trey wasn’t an accident. That he wasn’t alone out there. He said he had seen something, but he backed down because Trey’s friend Rudy Thommasson and John Booth were a little drunk and got him all nervous. You know how Rooster gets. Anyway, he called me after I got home and asked me to meet him this morning in town.”
“Asked you to meet him …?” Wade scrunched his brow. “To tell you that Trey Watkins wasn’t alone on the river. Meaning, what, that someone was along with him? Or was there when it happened? You’re saying someone was responsible for his death?”
“I don’t know what he meant. Only that he said it wasn’t an accident. He was about to tell me after his run.”
“Look, Danielle.” Wade squared around. “I don’t mean to speak poorly of the dead, but Ron Kessler was a person who wouldn’t know what was real from a half-gallon jug of rotgut vodka. And when he wasn’t boozing he was just a fool who would say anything that came into his mind if he thought it would get a rise. I bailed his ass out in AA enough times and he was never once honest with me. I even volunteered to be his sponsor once, when no one else in the program would have him. I don’t know how they even let him operate that balloon, but from all I heard he did his job and it wasn’t his fault.”
“He wasn’t drunk,” Dani said.
“He wasn’t drunk?” Wade eyed her skeptically and snickered.
“Last night. He wasn’t. I know everything you said. We all thought so. But he made a big point of saying he’d been sober for three weeks. And I believe him. He even showed what he was drinking at the bar. Ginger ale.”
“Dani, I don’t care if the guy was sober as a preacher, Kessler would tell you whatever you wanted to hear if it stepped him up one tiny notch in his own importance. Your friend flipped his raft five miles out of town on the Roaring Fork River. Even if something did happen out there, whatever the hell he meant—which I’m not saying, only making a point—no way he could have seen that from the air.”
“He said he was the only balloon up that morning and he took some extra cash from the customers to stay up and let it drift a bit over the valley. That’s why he didn’t want to bring it up. He didn’t want what he did to come back to his boss and bite him. That, and because he knew you’d say exactly what you did. Which was why he came to me.”
“Well, I guess I never made it much of a secret.” Wade nodded. “You learn to live with people’s weaknesses in the program. God knows, I’ve had to own up to enough of mine. But let’s just keep it that ol’ Ron, or Rooster, or whatever the hell he went by, zigged when the world zagged one too many times over the years and the world hasn’t been a straight line to him since.”
“Then I’d guess you ought to understand that yourself,” Dani stared at him, “and be a little more sympathetic.”
Wade’s eyes grew fiery, but then they calmed, and he let out a long exhale. “Yes. On that point you’re right. I do. Understand. But I don’t have the time to argue that with you now …”
“Wade, look,” Dani pulled up her chair, “anyone who knows anything knows Trey could handle the lower Cradle rapids in his sleep. And even if what took place happened somewhere farther upstream, say around the falls, the raft likely would have washed up somewhere north.”
“So you’re saying, what? Someone killed him? Someone was out there with him, like this Rooster said. And then what? That what happened to him up there this morning, and all those other poor people, was what … to keep that gerbil from running off his mouth off or something? To stop him from telling the world what he claims he saw. You did start this whole thing off implying they were connected.”
“I don’t know what I’m saying, Wade. But balloons just don’t fall out of the sky. A day after someone goes around saying that they’ve seen something. Whatever else you might want to say about him, Ron did know how to handle himself up there. He’d been doing it for a lot of years.”
“I don’t know, maybe there was a rip or a flaw in the fabric or something. Or maybe something flammable got caught in the gas jet. The right people will figure that out. Or maybe your poster boy there just did something stupid, which he was eminently capable of doing, Dani.” He shook his head.
“So tell me, where was Trey’s helmet, Wade?” Her tone was starting to grow a bit defensive now.
“I don’t know about Trey’s helmet. Maybe he wasn’t wearing a helmet. I mean the same guy would hurl himself off the summit of Aspen Mountain with only a sheet of nylon attached to him, so to me, it’s not much of a stretch that he would go out on the river without a helmet.”
“Well, you’d be wrong on that. Not since he had his boy. I saw him out there a dozen times. And yesterday you were sure he was either high or hungover. So what did toxicology come back with? I know the first thing they would have done was check his blood over in County.”
“Jesus, you’re sounding like a cop now. The river’s closed for a day or so, so maybe you can find yourself a whole new career.”
“He was a friend, Wade.” She kept her eyes fixed on him. “So I’m asking, what did they say? About his blood?”
“About his blood …?” Wade shrugged and rocked back in his seat. “They said nothing, Danielle. Hundred percent clean. I’ll give you that.” There was a pause, one that seemed to carry the weight of the many issues between them, until Wade shook his head. “C’mon, Dani, who the hell would possibly want to kill Trey Watkins? Honestly …”
“I don’t know.”
“And all this because of some news flash from a totally disreputable source that he wasn’t out there alone. Or your belief that he could handle that section of the river in his sleep? Or not finding any helmet?”
Wade stood up and came over, and sat on the edge of his desk. “Listen, Danielle, I get that he was a good friend, but what we have here are two tragic, but separate occurrences. Trey Watkins probably tried some ill-advised maneuver that got his head wrung up against a rock. That balloon, it’ll come out there was something going on. It imploded. That’s what the witnesses saw from the other balloon. Rare as it is, it happens. We get one shred of evidence that says it’s something different, I’ll be the first to jump on it. They got some team from the Parks Service in today and looking around the accident site. And I damn well know they’ll be going over that balloon shell with a fine-tooth comb to find whatever they can, though God knows what that would be as it’s nothing but a burnt-up mess, I’m afraid. How about you let me and Sheriff Warrick do our jobs. For God sakes, you’re as headstrong as your mother. And you saw how that went.”
“Seemed to go fine, Wade …” Dani said, her eyes flashing to the bourbon bottle on the credenza. “God knows how. Till those bottles were full and not empty.”
“Easy to blame me, I admit …” Wade nodded and frowned. “I know we got some unfinished business between us, Danielle, but I was always a friend to you.”
“Just look into it, Wade. That’s all I ask. Please …”
The female duty officer outside came in over an intercom. “Chief, Sheriff Warrick’s on the phone for you.”
Wade nodded and went back to his desk. “With your permission … I gotta take that now.”
Dani got up and headed toward the door. Her eyes went to the credenza behind his chair. “I meant to ask, how’s Kyle doing?”
“He’s fighting. They got him fitted up with a new leg. He’s learning how to get used to it. Thanks.”
“I know I should go and see him more.” She liked Kyle. For a couple of years, when she was twelve, he was like an older brother to her. Before he signed up.
“I’m sure he’d like that, Dani. And listen …” Wade picked up the phone and crooked it in his shoulder and held his finger on the waiting line. “I’m sorry about Trey. But how about you leave the police work to me and Sheriff Warrick. And when the river opens back up in a day or two, I know that’s where you’ll be.”
CHAPTER NINE (#ulink_28318972-01d5-58b5-87f9-0ad26e2a1c15)
It continued to gnaw at her, no matter what Wade said: what Rooster said he saw. So the following morning, the river closed to traffic, Dani went back out along the stretch where she had found Trey’s body. There was a road that followed the river, paved at spots, mostly not, which the whitewater companies used to meet up with their rafts at the end of their runs, and cyclists and campers to head to the many trails and campsites in the park.
As she drove out, she reflected on yesterday’s meeting and her history with Wade. Her mother and her dad were divorced when she was six. He was in his residency at the Aspen Orthopedic Clinic, under a well-known orthopedic surgeon, and her mother, Judy, was the daughter of Tom Barnham, who owned the dry goods store on Galena, then bought the building outright, and then over the years, the one next to it and the one next to that, even becoming the mayor in town for eight years. When Dani was twelve, her mother married Wade, who’d had a few reversals in town, and who became the country sheriff mostly through his father-in-law’s influence. Whatever the glitzy veneer, Aspen was then and has always remained a small town at heart, where insiders matter. Dani recalled them happy at first, and Wade became kind of a sizable personality about town, strutting around alongside the rich and famous in his trademark cowboy hat, python boots, and flashy rings.
But when Dani was sixteen, a miscarriage made her mom depressed, and then she started getting headaches. And Wade, whose self-destructive nature took over, stopped taking the kids fishing and camping and started coming home drunk—from parties he used to call his “public responsibilities,” but then seemed to turn into all the time. Once he totaled his car and another time he got into a public fight with one of his officers right in the middle of town. He went into the program—even went away once for a month—but then he started using stronger stuff, which only came out much later, and which came to a head when he pilfered a couple of hundred OxyContin tablets from his own police evidence locker. By then it had all fallen apart for him and he was forced to resign. Her mother grew worse and worse, and Dani took a semester off to care for her. But in Dani’s sophomore year, Judy just suddenly seemed to give up and died. Complications from the disease, it was called. Her mom was taking her own share of medication back then, and Wade was mostly at his worst, and not much of a caregiver. But Dani still always pictured her in her mind, smiling and pretty, braiding Dani’s long, curly hair and singing “Sweet Baby James” and John Denver songs with her, with those Colorado blue eyes. Dani even tattooed an “Ai,” the Chinese symbol for love, on her shoulder, with her mother’s initials.
So maybe Dani did always blame Wade a bit for her demise. Or at least, for not helping. Dani was in the process of transferring back to Boulder when her mom just fell off a cliff. For years Dani blamed herself for not having been there at the end. The suddenness had taken everyone by surprise. Wade may not have actually killed her; Dani had finally come to terms with that. But his own problems surely sapped the strength out of her and helped her to decline.
Dani drove along the river to the spot at the Cradle where Trey was found, which was now blocked off by tape with a Pitkin County police van parked there. She continued down about a half mile to a spot they called the Funnel, where the various currents fed into a narrow channel, about a quarter mile up from the ford, where the rapids tour ended.
She parked in a small turnout on the side of the road. She knew the narrow pathway that led down to the river, which this far down was wider than upstream, but not much more than a rocky, shallow bed on each side. She knew this river like the back of her hand. She knew the currents, where they fed. As a kid, she had once lost a backpack in the current all the way back above the Falls, and weeks later she found where it had ended up.
At the Funnel. Here.
Dani climbed down through the brush and onto the shoreline. The alluvial currents here had widened out a deep gorge in the aspens and firs. She knew it was kind of like finding a needle in a haystack. Without even knowing if the needle was even hidden here. She saw a beer can glinting among the rocks. A flip-flop sandal was nearby, which must have slipped off someone’s foot. A waterlogged Penn tennis ball. She kicked over an empty can of beans, stepping over the small, loose rocks. Because of the depth, the water color changed here from a clear blue and white to a musty gray.
It wasn’t around.
She kneeled in the shallow bed, disappointed. It was kind of a long shot anyway. If it had washed down, she was pretty certain it would have ended up here.
She scanned the opposite side before going back up to her car.
Something glinted. Nothing more than a fleck of color amid the rocks on the shoals. Across the stream.
White.
The river was shallow here and easy to ford. Except for the narrow channel in the middle that was still about two feet deep where you could still traverse a raft. Dani went in in her shorts and Tevas and made her way across. About thirty yards. Her sandals gripped the silty river floor, water rushing by her knees. The current was mild here. No threat of being swept away. Not like what she had to go through to get to Trey.
She crossed toward the object she’d seen, which was nestled amid the rocks.
Whatever hope she had that she’d found something faded.
All it turned out to be was just a white plastic drink container. She bent down, picked it up and tossed it farther off the riverbed into the brush. Probably someone’s water container that had fallen overboard. It could have been sitting here for months.
Maybe Wade was right. It was possible Trey had been just riding recklessly and hit his head against a rock. It’s possible he wasn’t wearing a helmet. Maybe Rooster did just make it all up—for the attention. To be the big shot. Anyway, it was now all kind of moot. Both Trey and Ron were gone. She’d never know, though something still inside her said—
Something farther along the shoreline caught her eye. Half submerged amid the vegetation along the shore. She went over, the black composite almost completely blending in with the gunmetal water and dark green vines.
She picked it up by the strap. It was a little scuffed, beaten up from its ride downstream, bouncing off rock after rock.
Her heart started to race.
Trey’s helmet.
But it wasn’t dented. Dented in the way it would have been if its wearer had sustained blunt-force trauma to the head.
Which had to mean one thing. That it hadn’t been on Trey at the time he sustained his injury. If he’d cracked it with enough force to kill him you would have surely been able to see it. Holding the black helmet, Dani knew that had to mean something, right?
Her blood surged. So she wasn’t wrong, at least, not about that part. Trey had been wearing it.
So maybe she wasn’t so wrong about all the rest of it, either.
CHAPTER TEN (#ulink_8894bbe9-5394-5dff-89bd-a12dbc18f058)
Back in her car, following the river back upstream, she searched for the spot above the lower Cradle where she had found Trey’s body.
The road narrowed there, barely wide enough for two cars to pass, with dense brush crowding in from both sides. The aspens and pines were so tall here Dani could barely see the sky. She came up to the clearing where the rescue vehicles converged when they pulled Trey out. It hadn’t rained since, and tire tracks and footprints were still visible all over the dirt road.
Dani heard the roar of the river slashing against the rocks below.
It was clear, even in just Class Two or Three rapids, that Trey couldn’t have just nested to a stop here. His raft must have been carried down from farther upstream and come to rest in the eddy. She heard Rooster saying, You didn’t see what I saw. He wasn’t alone. Now she was even more certain he hadn’t been lying.
But just what did that mean?
Had someone been along with him on his run? That wouldn’t be hard to determine. The ranger station would know. But if it was all just a terrible accident, surely that person would have called it in. And if so, they surely wouldn’t have taken such a lethal reprisal against Ron in the balloon.
No, it had to be something else. It wasn’t no accident out there … Someone had to have stopped him.
The police vehicle was gone now. Dani made her way down the slope to the ridge above the river and scanned upstream. The cold spray off Baby’s Rattle lashed at her, the sun glinting off her shades. It was possible that someone else had climbed down here and intercepted him on the river. But that would’ve had to have happened farther upstream. Or they’d have to have made their way down along the shoreline in between the first two rapids of the Cradle where the currents slowed a bit, in order for his body to have ended up here.
There were rocks in the river near where Trey was found. The Raptor’s Teeth, they were called. Three sharp, pointed rocks that protruded out of the water, four to five feet high. If Trey had sustained a crash hard enough to cause his death, surely his helmet would show the impact. And it didn’t. So how did it come off? How did it end up all the way downstream?
Dani followed the rapids from the high rocks, twenty or thirty feet above the river. She had to climb up and then down in order to follow the edge, but she was pretty nimble, having done her share of trekking and climbing in these hills. Once or twice, she even had to jump from one height down to another in her Tevas. If she stumbled she could easily fall in and hit her head or break a bone and be carried away. It was slow work; it took about ten minutes to climb a hundred yards.
Finally she made it to the Teeth. It was calm enough here for Trey to have been pulled over by someone. If a person had come out, pretending to need help. Or with a gun maybe. Yes, it could have happened here, Dani imagined. But why …? It was Trey. Why would someone have wanted to kill him?
She turned and looked back up the shore toward the road, and spotted something in the woods.
The narrowest pathway, which seemed to cut through the thick brush, barely wide enough to even be called a path. Barely wide enough for just a single person. It wound down directly above Baby’s Rattle, the second rapid in the Cradle, right above the Raptor’s Teeth.
So someone could have climbed down there from here.
Curious, Dani went back and followed the narrow path from the river’s edge back up the slope toward the road. Thorny branches slapped in her face and scraped against her bare arms and legs. She was no scout or tracker, but she had the feeling someone had been here recently.
As she neared the road, she noticed something. She kneeled, sweating slightly in the sun, peeling back leaves and crushed branches on the ground to see.
It was like a small clearing had been made. Low branches were flattened against the ground, within a few yards from the road.
Not by hand, she could tell. It looked as if it was done by the front wheels of a vehicle.
So someone might well have been here.
She cleared away some of the leaves and brush on the ground. There were tire tracks. Something had pulled in—and whoever was in it had continued from the road via that pathway down to the Cradle.
To the very spot where Trey had been killed.
Her blood surged with vindication. It didn’t prove a thing. Any more than finding the helmet did.
It didn’t prove that Rooster was right. That, it wasn’t no accident out there …
But he was damn well right on one thing.
Trey hadn’t been alone yesterday morning. Someone had definitely been here.
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#ulink_0d905b85-2a6b-55f0-aa68-504f96ff9418)
“Who the hell would want to kill Trey?” Wade screwed up his eyes, staring at the helmet Dani dropped on his desk.
“I don’t know who’d want to kill him. But I told you he was wearing a helmet and he was. You see any significant dents on it anywhere? Don’t you think if he received a head injury severe enough to kill him, there’d be some evidence on it somewhere?”
Wade’s response was laced with impatience and rising frustration. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to think.” He took off his glasses and looked it over. “And you’re saying this proves what …?”
“It proves he wasn’t wearing it when he sustained his head injury. And the next question would be, Wade, how do you explain it coming off?”
“Don’t teach me my job, Danielle. And I don’t know how the hell it came off. Maybe he hit his head aside a rock. Maybe he took it off himself for some reason. To breathe. To take a leak for all I know. But this is all starting to cross the line. You’re coming to me with this helmet, claiming it was Trey’s, and that someone made their way down the rocks and then did what, lay in wait for him, to kill him …? Not even knowing for certain if he’d even be there.”
“I know how it sounds. But Trey did a seven A.M. run a couple of times a week, so it wasn’t a long shot that he’d be there. And I was looking around on the ridge above where I think it all might have happened and I found something else.”
“You did …?” Wade’s look of impatience was now amped up into the range of exasperation. “Surprise me, Danielle.”
“I found a path. In the brush above the river. Leading back to the road. From exactly the spot where Trey had to have been killed.”
“You mean where you think he had his accident, Dani. And if I need to remind you, there are paths all over the heights above that river. You and I have been through dozens of them. I don’t see what one more proves.”
“This one leads directly from the road to the spot just above the Baby’s Rattle.”
“The Baby’s Rattle …?”
“It’s a rapid on the upper Cradle where I think Trey was killed. Look, I know how it sounds, Wade. But I also found fresh tire marks near the road where that particular path came out.”
“Dani.”
“Which means someone else was there, and—”
“Dani!” She stopped. Wade sat back down. “We’re dealing with a lot here. And this is starting to strain my nerves. Someone kills Trey in the river and then sabotages your pal Ron’s balloon to keep it covered up?”
“He’s not my pal, Wade. He wasn’t even a friend. But that’s not even the point. The point is … I don’t know what it is …” She sat down, trying to lay out her argument with everything swimming around crazily in her head. “The point is we all know Trey could have done that run with his eyes closed. So how does he just upend, lose his helmet, crack his head. And then couple that with what Rooster saw …?”
“What he claimed to see …”
“What he saw, Wade. He knew exactly what Trey was wearing. And with Trey’s helmet not being on him … and those fresh tire marks on this path. I just think it’s something worth looking into. If you’re not so interested, maybe someone at the Aspen Times might be. Or Sheriff Warrick.”
Wade stared back at her, and this time with a lot more than merely frustration. “You must be kidding, young lady.”
“I’m not kidding, Wade.”
“You know what you’re saying?”
“I’m just saying someone else might find this all adds up to something. Enough to look into. Did you check the balloon?”
“This is really starting to cross the line for me. Did we check the balloon for what?”
“I don’t know. For anything that looked … suspicious.”
Wade glared. “Course we checked it, Dani. Teams of people who know what the hell they’re doing have been over it all day. The outer fabric is pretty much a burnt-out mess. And what are we looking for anyway? A rip? A tear? If what you’re suggesting is true, some person sure went to an awful lot of trouble and risk to cover up the death of a basically broke, adrenaline-junkie, joy rider.”
“What about a bullet? That could have caused it, right? It could have torn right through.”
“You’re starting to sound crazy now.”
“All I’m asking is if anyone heard what may have been a shot going off nearby?”
Wade stood up again, came over to her, and sat himself on the edge of his desk. “What the hell is it about this, Danielle? This has gone too far. I know he was a friend. I know there are parts of all this that don’t somehow add up to you. But no one else is seeing it that way. What they’re seeing is a guy who may have gotten a bit too reckless and maybe misgauged how much water there was out there, which is exactly what the investigator the Parks Service sent agreed it was today.”
“I know that river, Wade. No one knows it better than me—”
“But you’re not a cop, Dani. You’re a river guide. A smart one, maybe, but you’re way overreaching here. And when you say silly things like you just did, about bringing in the press, more than they already are, it’s starting to strain my patience to even listen to you. There are families coming here to retrieve their loved ones and there’s zero tangible evidence to get everyone riled up that says it’s anything other than two tragic, but unrelated events.”
Dani stood up. Frustration ran heatedly through her blood, too. It all made sense to her, at least to a point. But Wade had one thing right. One thing she couldn’t answer. Trey wasn’t exactly the type to have enemies, so why, why would anyone want to do this to him?
Wade’s shoulders sagged and he let out a resigned breath. “I tell you what …”
“What?”
“I’ll talk to Allie.” Trey’s wife. “I’ll see if there was any reason anyone would want to do him harm. Not that I believe there was, you hear me saying. But that’s a start, right?”
Dani looked at him. The blood eased out of her face. She nodded. “You could check out those tire marks, too,” she added. Then finally she gave him an accepting and contrite shrug, even a smile. “Yes. It’s a start. Thanks.”
“All right then. But the only reason I’m even agreeing to this is for you to stay out of it from this point on. No more detective, okay? It’s getting people riled up. Especially me. We’re opening the river back up tomorrow. Please, get your ass back on it.”
Dani nodded again, against her better instincts. “Just ask her, okay?”
“And I don’t want to hear any more threats about taking this to someone. Or I’m gonna have to figure out something else, Dani. To keep you out of it. We agree?”
“What do you mean by something else, Wade?”
“I don’t know. Just don’t. Understand? I need you to promise me.”
She looked at him. “Rooster wasn’t drunk, Wade. He knew what Trey was wearing. He saw something. He just didn’t feel he could bring it to you.”
“I said I need you to promise me, Dani …”
Her face was still flushed and red. She kept looking at him and he didn’t know what she was going to say. Then she finally nodded, the air going out of her cheeks. “All right. I promise.” She reached for the helmet.
Wade put his hand on it. “Where do you think you’re going with that?”
“Trey’s wife. It was his. She may want it.”
“Sorry.” He pulled it over to his side of the desk. “That’s evidence. It stays with me.”
CHAPTER TWELVE (#ulink_1120e24b-151d-5d54-b448-47b4c5a6be29)
Later, in an oversize Bowdoin T-shirt and sweat pants, Dani sat polishing off the last of a beer, her second, Blu curled up on the kilim rug in front of the TV.
“What is all this about, Dani …?”
There were a couple of messages from Geoff that she hadn’t returned. The first was business: “Okay to do the bus leg on the afternoon run tomorrow and give Rob a chance to guide?” The second was more personal. “Look, is everything all right, Dani? You’ve been a little distant since Trey. We haven’t spent any time together, and you kind of brushed me off the other night. I know you’re upset. I’d like to come by tonight if that’s all right. We could catch a bite. Or I could give you the ol’ down-under back rub and we could catch up on a couple of episodes of House of Cards …”
She started to text him back that she just wasn’t feeling up to it tonight.
She really didn’t want to make trouble. And not with Wade. It was true, he hadn’t been much of a husband to her mom. There were always rumors of him screwing around and he didn’t exactly shine with compassion when she deteriorated and really needed him. By that time he was either too drunk or too stoned to be of much help; then he was let go from the Aspen sheriff’s office and had to call in every favor he was owed not to have been brought up on criminal charges.
But he’d always been nice to Dani. Growing up, he was like one of those larger-than-life figures who would come in your life every once in a while and was always involved in fun, cool stuff. He took her camping and riding. He introduced her to famous people as “his little girl.” Then he’d go on a binge. She’d gone to a few Al-Anon meetings and the part about how addicts weren’t even in control always hit home. Wade was at the top of the list. The only parts of his personality stronger than his charm and charisma were his urges to be temperamental and self-destructive. Dani had tried to forgive him for being such a shitty husband to her mom. And at times maybe she had. And then sometimes his betrayals and constant pushing her mom away when she needed him most crushed her and broke her will. The same will everyone said they saw in Dani.
But now this was Wade’s last chance in life, and it was clear he didn’t want to rock the boat. To Dani, the mosaic all fit together. Trey. The Cradle. The path that seemed to have been made down there from the road. Rooster claiming he saw something and then his balloon crashing down in flames. Maybe she couldn’t prove any part of it, but it was all there for anyone to see if they wanted to take a look. She knew she was pushing the line with him. Wade didn’t like to be crossed and he surely didn’t like his authority questioned. Not in this job, which was the last rung on the ladder for him. And maybe Dani had made him look small to his staff.
But she couldn’t just walk away from it. She couldn’t just pretend it was all just some unrelated incident so the Chamber of Commerce could still brag about what an idyllic valley they lived in here.
What’s this all about? Wade had asked of her.
She got up and went out to the deck. The moon was bright. The crickets were buzzing. The sky was dark and wide, the shadow of Mount Sopris looming in the distance. It was like you could see every star on the sky.
She sat in the Adirondack chair and put her feet up on the railing and swigged her beer. Blu shuffled out and curled up at her feet.
She wasn’t about to stop, no matter what Wade had made her promise. How could he understand? She owed Trey. She owed him big.
Maybe everything.
They were on the upper Colorado River in Gore Canyon, two Aprils ago. There were four of them. Chase Gould and Tom Twilliger, both expert rafters. The lure was the biggest early spring runoff in years, over a thousand cubic feet per second coming down the river, which turned a Class Four into a Five, and a Five into sheer heaven.
Trey heard about and he called Dani and they decided to join in. They packed up their gear in Chase’s truck and made the ninety-minute drive to Kremmling. Gore was an unspoiled mountain canyon, lined with snowcapped mountains and jagged cliffs. The three-mile rapid run through it had some of the most challenging whitewater in the country.
Dani had done the run once before, but never with so much water. It started out moderate: Applesauce and Sweet Dreams, easy Class Threes, just to stick your toe in the water, as they say. The gems were up next. Scissors, which could cut anyone up or flip you over, and Pirate, with its deep holes and rocks the size of buildings, and a ton of water slashing around. It wasn’t just good technique that got you down; this run was also about strength. In the hardest water Dani had ever had to push around. There were plenty of yelps and whoops of exhilaration, paddles raised triumphantly at every chute they made it through.
Then they hit Tunnel Falls.
Most people do Gore Canyon for the Kirshbaum, a half-mile narrow chute of rocks and holes with a 120-foot vertical that builds up the speed like a raceway. But the Falls is its signature rapid. Massive rocks on both sides of a narrow chute and then over a twelve-foot drop. You have to navigate through it at just the right line; otherwise it’s a headfirst wipeout. Guaranteed.
And that was with half the water the four of them had that day.
Chase was up first. The best and most experienced of them. He’d won a few competitions. The basin at the bottom of the falls had a ton of water thrashing about in it. He hit it just like they drew it up, the rest of them looking on from thirty yards upstream. He disappeared over the edge, spray and foam exploding around him, and from where they were they had no idea. And then ten seconds later they saw him reappear fifty yards downstream, his paddle raised high, his ecstatic whoops drowned out by the turbulent water’s roar.
“Whoooiieee!” Trey lifted his paddle in appreciation. They all cheered.
Tom was up next. He was no slouch himself. In his red helmet and yellow raft, the back of his craft careened into a rock just as he went over and he didn’t hit it right.
“Shit,” Trey groaned. “Wipeout.” Dani watched him go over and couldn’t see what had happened below, other than seeing Chase, downstream, running his finger across his throat, meaning he’d capsized. It took a while until she finally saw Tom again, hanging on to his raft, riding with the current, giving the thumbs-up that he was okay.
“You ready?” Trey asked Dani. “I’ll pick up the rear.”
It was Trey’s way of saying, I’ve got you covered if anything happens, and were it anyone else Dani would have probably shot back, “You first. By all means …”
Instead she just nodded and said. “Up to you. Last one down buys the beer,” and steeling her nerves, pulled into the chute. She never felt there was a run she couldn’t make it down, even this one with more water than she’d ever handled. She knew the trick was to keep the approach steady and hit the falls head-on so that the crosscurrents wouldn’t pitch you to one side, which was what had happened to Tom. Dani felt her speed pick up and strained to hold her line, but the whooshing current was stronger than she anticipated and pitched her around. As she got within six feet of the drop, she knew she was off-line, the back of her raft knocking against a rock, spinning the bow sideways. Her heart leaped up and she tried to correct, but there was no way she was strong enough to push this powerful a current around.
Fear gripping her, she basically went over the edge sideways.
To this day, she recalled the sensation of her heart toppling even faster than the raft, before being slammed by the icy water headfirst, as hard as if she had barreled into a wall. Her helmet knocked into something hard—a rock, the bottom?—and then the desperate, helpless realization that she was out of the craft in Class Five water.
Over the years, she’d wiped out a hundred times—everyone had. Tom had just a moment before. That’s how you learned. Spread your arms and get your feet forward and try to hold onto the line to your craft, she told herself.
But the line slipped out of her grasp. She felt her kayak shoot off ahead of her and when she tried to position her legs forward, it was like they were caught up in something.
It took her a second for her to realize: She was underwater.
Her first mistake was to try to yell, which sent a rush of icy water into her lungs. She gagged. She quickly got her wits back, realizing, though the fall was disorienting, that she’d been caught in some kind of whirlpool—fierce water swirling around. And even with her senses dulled and the knifing sensation of icy water in her lungs, she knew to make herself as still as she could and not to panic nor fight what was happening. Let the vortex release her and lift her up. She’d practiced it a hundred times.
But this time it didn’t.
A frantic fear began to set in. Being thrashed around, not knowing up from down, her eyes stung by frigid water like dozens of bees attacking her, the coldness in her lungs sapping her strength.
Stay calm, she told herself, stay calm. But in her agitation, seconds seemed like minutes. She had no idea how long she was under and she feared she would lose her breath. Her mouth opened, water spilling into her lungs. Numbing her. For the first time in her life she felt fear on the river. Her instincts failed her. It took everything she had to suppress the basic urge to scream.
Please stay calm, Dani. Somehow. Don’t struggle against it. The eddy will free you. You know what to do.
She realized Chase and Tom were way too far downstream to help. No way they could make their way back up against that current.
And Trey, sooner or later, he would realize what had happened. Chase had probably already given him the sign. But how long would he wait to see if she came through? Or if, coming after her, he’d nail the run perfectly and be swept right past.
Panic started to rush into her blood like the icy water in her lungs. She began to feel the very real fear that this could be it for her.
Let me up. Let me up. Dani started to struggle against it, which she knew was the wrong thing.
Please.
On the deck with Blu, looking up at the starry sky, Dani was gripped by the same sensation as if it were yesterday. One she’d never felt until that moment.
And hadn’t since.
The overwhelming feeling she was giving up.
That she was going to die.
In the river, she felt water all over her, icy and black, the irony that something she loved so much was now about to kill her. In that moment, her mind actually began to drift, to a scene from her childhood, her mother telling her she was too young to go out on the river by herself. She’d have to wait another year. She was maybe ten then. Then—
She felt herself being lifted back up. It’s working, she remembered thinking, sure that the current was giving her up.
But it wasn’t the current. It was Trey, a hand clamped onto her wet-suit collar, the other hanging on to a rock. Pulling her out. She broke free and sucked a desperate breath into her lungs. She gasped over and over, coughing out water, throwing her eyes back at the beautiful blue sky, heaving.
Free.
“I’ve got you, Dani. I’ve got you,” she remembered Trey saying. “You were in an eddy. But you can relax. Breathe in. I’ve got you now. You’re safe.”
She clung to him like he was a buoy in the middle of the ocean, and she wanted to cry.
“Jeez, and all the really hard stuff is still a ways downstream …” He grinned at her, in that offhand way of his and with a wink that at any other time she would have wanted to throw a punch at. But this time she just smiled and hugged him, nodding, wiping away the tears. He positioned her on his chest, feet forward, between his legs, and they followed the current downstream back to her raft.
She stayed with them and finished the Kirshbaum as if it were a Three.
What’s this all about? Wade had asked, not knowing what lay at the heart.
She owed Trey. Owed him everything. He hadn’t given up on her.
No way she was about to give up on him.
Especially now.
That’s what this was about.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#ulink_305411aa-59e7-57bf-9cf9-6d52a403848f)
That same night, Wade was in his home up the canyon in Basalt. Not where he used to live, on Red Mountain in Aspen. Those homes went for millions now. In a rented house, kind of a dilapidated eighties chalet, with a dirt drive and the garage filled with his things, so he had to leave his Bronco parked outside. He’d gone to see Allie Watkins at the end of the day, just like he’d said he would. First, to pay his respects; Trey’s father had come down from up north to take possession of his boy’s body. Then to ask her, just for appearance’s sake, if somehow there was anyone out there who would want to see her husband harmed.
Her raw, red eyes looked back at him quizzically.
“Just a formality,” he explained, “in these types of things. We’re just crossing off a line of investigation.”
She shook her head. She had her long blond hair wrapped back in a braid, and was in a kind of peasant dress with a shawl covering her shoulders. “I mean, there was someone who he had a dispute with over the patent they were applying for on his camera mount,” she thought back. “Mark Conners. He and Trey went to school together at CSU. But he lives in Massachusetts now. He wasn’t even here.”
“Massachusetts,” Wade said, nodding.
“Anyway, they seemed to have ironed it all out. Trey was giving him a small share of whatever he made. So no, no one, Chief Dunn. You knew Trey. Everyone liked him. I don’t know what you mean …”
“I’m not meaning anything, hon,” Wade said, putting his arm around her as he went to the door. “Now don’t go worrying about it. You’ve got enough to deal with as it is. You go take good care of that little boy of yours, okay?”
Later, he scraped together something to eat and sat down in front of the TV with a coffee. Tonight was one of those nights he longed for something a whole lot stronger.
She’s always been a tough one to rein in. Dani. Going back to when she was a kid. Whatever she did, she did as tough as any of the boys—rock climbing, hockey, snowboarding. Once she got on something, it was like a demon was in her head. One that wouldn’t let go. She had that headstrong nature. Like her mom. Wade hadn’t had much luck in that department, either.
This time, though, just this once, he knew, he would have to back her down.
There were things she didn’t understand. Things she would see in a different way if she persisted. A way that could cause trouble for him.
Things he had to make sure didn’t come out and that couldn’t get around. Too many things depended on it.
He drank up the last of his coffee and flicked on the TV. His cell phone sounded. He took a look and saw that it wasn’t his office. The words on the screen, UNKNOWN CALLER, made the acid in his stomach shoot up. He didn’t even want to answer, but, he knew, these weren’t exactly the kind of folk you left hanging. “Hello.”
There was no greeting, only a slight pause, then a firm but soft Oklahoma drawl almost hissing the words at him. “You said this would be a piece of cake, Chief. All buttoned up. So far, I’d say that’s anything but the case.”
“I know.”
“I don’t really want to hear that you know, Wade. I think you know the consequences of what happens if we can’t contain this.”
“I’ll handle it,” Wade said, though he saw the thing unraveling like a spool of thread in a cat’s paw.
“You’ll handle it, huh? You’ll handle it how, Wade? We already thought you had it all neatly bundled up. And now there’s another person going around making even more trouble. Some girl …”
“Listen …” Wade said, his stomach tightening as if it were squeezed into a ball. “How do you know about that?”
“Don’t you worry how we know about things. Just worry how you’re going to set it right. This was all supposed to go easy. First we find the kid on the river. The same route he always goes. Tuesdays and Fridays, right? Bright and early. No one around. Other than some fool flying in a goddamn balloon who goes spouting his mouth off. We both better hope he didn’t take pictures.”
“He didn’t. And you didn’t have to do it the way you did. Now I have all kinds of trouble here to factor in.”
“Sheriff, I promise you,” the caller laughed, “your little town doesn’t even know the meaning of the word trouble, if that’s what it is.”
“This time you stay out of it. I’ll take care of it,” Wade said. He also knew these were not the kind of people you lost your temper with. “I’ll make it go away.”
“Stay out of it …?” The person on the other end chuffed back a laugh. “How do you think you even got yourself reelected, Lieutenant Johnnie Walker Black? We stay out of it, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself appointed to the prom committee of your local high school.”
“It won’t go any further. I give you my word.”
“Damn right it won’t go further … ’Cause if it doesn’t, everything stops. Today. Not another dime. That boy of yours will have to find his own way back in life without our help. That understood?”
“It’s understood.” Wade gritted his teeth and swallowed the acidy taste back into his stomach.
“I want to be clear, Chief. Carbondale’s a cute little town. But if we have to make another stop down there, it might just be for you this time. So factor that kind of trouble into your thinking, Wade.” After waiting a moment to let the words sink in, the caller hung up.
Wade placed the phone back on the table, anger roiling inside.
He needed them off his back, but he had let them in. That he couldn’t deny.
Yes, one long set of rapids to run, he said to himself. No different than Trey.
Dani better keep her trap shut, that was all there was to it. Or he didn’t know what he’d be forced to do.
One thing he should’ve learned a long time ago, you deal with the devil, you better get ready for the temperature to rise.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#ulink_6cdb8d07-cef4-5e40-9366-d15ece871ead)
Early the next morning Dani was back out on the river.
There was a ranger station at the beginning of the park road. Cammie was on duty. Dani knew her, of course; she was out here almost every day. She handed out maps and advised people on where to camp and the conditions.
And they also kept track of the car traffic. All day.
“No run this morning?” Cammie said as Dani drove up, leaning out of her hut. The river had just been reopened and Dani waited at the gate until a few vans and buses from both Whitewater Adventures and a few competitors went on through. There was no kayak strapped to the top of Dani’s Subaru.
“I’m doing the bus pickup later this afternoon. Cammie, listen, you mind if I talk to you about something?”
“Not at all.” The ranger leaned out and looked down the road, seeing no one behind them. “Lots of doings out here these past two days. What’s on your mind?”
Dani pointed to the camera at the gate that recorded the license plates of all vehicles going inside the park. “You keep that thing on, don’t you?”
“Twenty-four/seven. Even after the gates are closed. State law.”
“And you keep the film here? From the past few days.”
They’d known each other for years, even though Cammie was about ten years older. But she’d been part of the park detail for a long time and Dani had been coming here since she was a teenager. Her booth had a picture taped up with her and her female partner. “Just what date are you looking for, Dani?”
Dani looked at her. “Last Tuesday. The twenty-second.”
Cammie looked back at her. “Tuesday was the day Trey Watkins was killed, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was.”
“That must have been rough.” The park ranger stepped out of her hut. “I know the two of you were friends. He still came out here a couple of times a week. He always seemed like a nice young man. Always called me ‘Judy Blue Eyes.’ Like from Crosby, Stills and Nash.” Cammie kind of blushed.
“Everyone liked Trey. And, yes, it was rough.” Dani nodded. “Thanks.”
“Seems kind of hard to believe. Happening where it did. That far downstream. Some people are saying it must have happened up around the Falls, and the current took him down. It sure seemed he knew what he was doing.”
“He did know what he was doing, Cammie,” Dani said. “That’s why I’d like to take a look at that film.”
The ranger’s eyes widened a bit, as she got the sense of what Dani was asking. “Everything I heard said it was just a crazy accident. Even the state parks team was here.”
Dani shrugged. “Look, I know this may not be one hundred percent by the book …”
“I’m not so concerned about by the book …” Cammie said. “It’s just that, it’s not here. It’s been handed over.”
“Handed over? Handed over to whom?” Dani said in surprise. “The Parks Service?” If everyone was so sure this whole thing was nothing but an accident, why would it dawn on them to take the film?
“Not the Parks Service. It was Chief Dunn who came and took it. Day after it took place.”
“Chief Dunn?” Wade? Wade had it all along. All the while he was saying this was just an accident. Cut and dried …
He was either hiding something from her, or he believed it, too.
“But we take ’em when people leave here, too.” Cammie pointed to another camera, this one facing the exit gate. “And he didn’t ask for that one. It’s all digital these days. Fine with me if you want to come in and take a look.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#ulink_79e0713e-7dbc-5397-885b-8b4378dbb91e)
He had it. The realization twisted inside Dani. Wade had it when she went into his office yesterday. When he made that big scene about her overreaching and butting out. It meant either that he suspected she was right—that Trey’s death was suspicious, and then Ron’s, too. Or worse, that he was protecting something.
He’d had it all along. Before she even found the helmet.
Which, after what Dani and Cammie saw was on it, also meant he knew …
There was a meeting under way at the police station. Another officer Dani didn’t recognize was manning the front, and Dani went right past him, the officer going, “Wait! Hold on. You can’t—” And she pushed open the door and barged straight into the chief’s office.
Wade was at the head of the small conference table with his one and only detective and another officer around it.
“You took it.” Dani glared at him.
“What?”
The two others at the table looked up in surprise.
“The camera roll from the ranger station at the river. On the morning Trey died.”
Wade’s face grew heated. “Dani, I’m gonna ask you to step out now, if you please …”
“Cammie said you came and got it two days ago. So you knew. You knew all along it wasn’t an accident. You knew there was someone out there even before I brought in the helmet yesterday.”
The air hung like lead. Wade put down his pen and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for my stepdaughter’s outburst here. You all mind giving us five minutes and we’ll reconvene.”
The two of them left with a series of eye rolls and awkward glances that Dani knew would be around the station in two minutes. She realized this time she’d gone too far. She couldn’t help it. Wade had led her on. When the door finally shut behind them, he turned back and glared at her. “That’s my staff you just embarrassed me in front of. You do that again, and I don’t care if you’re my stepdaughter or not, so help me I’ll …”
“I’m sorry. I was out of line. But, Wade, you’ve had it all along. You let me go through that whole thing about Trey and Rooster and the helmet and the path I found … You know who it was, too. Who was out there that morning? Whose tire tracks I saw.”
“First of all,” Wade said, coming around the table, “it’s my job to look at anything that might—”
“That’s a load of bull, Wade. You told me Rooster was crazy. There’d be no reason to even request that film if it was all just an accident like you said. Unless you suspected there was something suspicious that went on out there. At least I’m damn well hoping that’s the reason for it.”
Wade leaned his hands against the table. “And what other reason might there be?”
“I don’t know. That you’re hiding something.” Dani didn’t back down. “That there was something on it you didn’t want anyone to see.”
Wade’s eyes took on a hardened expression, a space between hurt and outright anger. “That’s a mighty strong accusation, Dani, coming from someone who I’ve only been a friend to in life.”
“So convince me it isn’t, Wade. Who else has seen it? Who else did you show it to, if this was some kind of big investigation? I’m sorry if I don’t exactly believe you, but there’s a lot of recent history between us that doesn’t exactly rule that out.”
He swept his arm in anger, the papers on his table flying onto the floor. “I don’t have to convince you, Danielle. I’m the goddamn chief of police here! And whether there’s something there or not, that’s my role to determine, not yours. Just let me do my job!”
“Well, then do it!” Dani’s eyes lit up with accusation. “But next time you might want to requisition the exit tape as well. They keep it, Wade—just so there’s a record in case people get lost or stranded in the park. So they know exactly who’s still in there.”
Wade’s mouth opened a bit, and he stood there, as if he’d had a gun drawn on him.
Dani opened the manila envelope she had with her and removed the black-and-white photo. The one she made after she and Cammie looked at the film. She put it on his desk.
It was of a white Jeep Cherokee. Colorado plates. D69-416. “He came in at seven-oh-nine that morning. Just after Trey. And he left forty minutes later. Forty minutes, Wade! Just enough time for him to set up and do whatever he came to do and for Trey to take his first run.”
Wade’s fists dug into the table so hard Dani thought it was going to collapse. “You don’t know what you’re stepping into, girl …”
“This is him, Wade!” Dani jabbed her index finger onto the photo of the car. “That’s who killed Trey. And if you don’t act on this, so help me, I’ll take it to the Aspen Times or to Dave Warrick or anyone else who will listen to me and makes sure it’s in the hands of someone who will. You don’t have six deaths here to worry about here, Wade—you have six murders.” She pressed her finger on the photo again, right on the plate. “And here’s your murderer!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#ulink_73dd67b3-e6b5-5f1d-bd65-057655b26f61)
“I want you out of town,” Wade said, his jaw twitching, his chest heating up with frustration and anger, everything about him suddenly different.
This whole thing had hit a whole new level of seriousness for him now. A combination of being threatened by this crazy girl and the fear of what might happen to her (or him!) if she continued on. His conversation on the phone last night had made it clear. I’ll handle it, he’d promised them. I’ll make it go away.
He knew he’d better damn well deliver.
“You’re not taking this anywhere.” He pulled the photo back to his side of the table and crumpled it into a ball.
“You think I’d be dumb enough to put my only one down in front of you.” Dani leered at him. “I have more.”
“Then I’m telling you, as the head of this investigation and as someone who cares about you, Dani, I want them all handed over now.” He reached across and grabbed the envelope out of her hands. “You’re going to get out of this town for a while and let me do what I’m paid to do. In the meantime”—he took her roughly by the arm—“you’re coming with me.”
“What do you mean, I’m coming with you?” She tried to pull herself away. He clamped on tighter. “Wade, you’re hurting me!”
He dragged her into the station house and then through a door in the back where they had four holding cells.
“Are you crazy …?” Dani glared at him, trying to writhe out of his grip. “Get your hands off me, Wade! You’re doing what—throwing me in jail? This is insane. You can’t stop me from talking to people. You’re sitting on something. Just like you did with Mom.”
“I’m putting you somewhere where I can make sure you’re not interfering with my investigation until your father comes, or whomever the hell else I can get to talk some sense in you and take you out of here. Trust me, it’s for your own good.”
“My father? On what charge?” she demanded.
“I don’t know what charge! Obstructing an official investigation. Illegally obtaining government property. On the charge that it’s for your own damn good, Dani. Whatever I can think of that holds you here for a couple of days.”
“Are you nuts? Wade, please, how long do you think that’ll last?”
“As long as it takes to call your dad and get him to come out here.” He pulled her into the area where there were four holding cells. None of them were occupied.
“I’m not gonna stay here, Wade.”
“You damn well are going to stay here! You’re over your head here, Dani, and I’m doing this to protect you, not hurt you. Whether you know it or not.”
“Protect me?” He pushed her in an open cell and closed it with a clang behind her.
“Yes, protect you, Danielle,” Wade said, breathing heavily now.
“You’re making a mistake here, Wade. Not about me, but about Trey. And Rooster. And whoever that car belongs to.”
“Maybe so.” Wade walked away and hung the key on the wall. “But I’ve made ’em before. Sooner or later, one’s bound to catch up to me.”
ADRIFT (#ulink_7b17e98c-9959-5830-b4e7-3be84ee0a717)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#ulink_370c8eaf-4a89-5bdb-9dab-bc4854af14d1)
It had been too long.
The muscles were getting weak, the stomach a little flabby. A month back, long about Frenchman’s Cay, he’d stopped doing his morning crunches. The urge to find himself again, to get back into something, the next chapter, grew more and more restless inside him. He kept asking himself, what was next? To go back to his old job? To Talon, the global security company he was a partner in? He’d taken a month leave to nurse his wounds and bring himself back to life and just extended it kind of indefinitely. Now the wounds had healed; the dime-sized holes where the bullets had found him were now just scar tissue, mostly hidden by the tan. But what do you do when you’ve brought down a worldwide financial conspiracy whose reach led to the doorstep of the president’s own cabinet? Become a talking head on the TV news shows? Go on the speakers’ circuit? Just sail? These past two months, he couldn’t answer that question.
The first month, he didn’t even bring it to mind.
The month Naomi had joined him.
Hauck gazed out in his trunks and shades at the exquisite turquoise sea, white waves lapping gently onto the shore, from the tiny cove he was moored in with no other boat in sight, and didn’t care that there was no breeze.
That first month they just drifted. He didn’t want money or fame. He’d just wanted to help people. That’s why he became a cop in the first place, right? After the death of his youngest daughter. That’s how he put the pieces together back then. How he made his amends. But there were never enough amends. So he just sailed. Until it found him. He knew one day it would.
The day this came down:
“Ty, I’m not sure where this email finds you. But I need your help …”
He had spent the past two months on a thirty-eight-foot skiff he’d rented in Tortola, bonefishing and just sailing around, letting his beard grow out. After he and Naomi Blum exposed the Gstaad Group and helped bring down the secretary of the Treasury, Thomas Keaton, who’d conspired to mastermind the series of events that brought on the worldwide financial meltdown. He just couldn’t take a slap on the back for a job well done and a bonus check, and go back to his desk in Greenwich, Connecticut. Even the high-profile job that it was, handling corporate and governmental security issues with global connections. He couldn’t just sit in a larger office, gladhanding prospective clients, using his newfound notoriety to land new business like some ex-home-run hitter at a baseball card show. The money didn’t mean much to him, either, a guy who always figured he’d retire on a detective’s pension.
The first three weeks, Naomi was with him. From her small office at the Office of Financial Terrorism at the Treasury Department in Washington, D.C., they followed the trail of Hauck’s friend April Glassman’s murder all the way to the top of Naomi’s very department, to the president’s right-hand man. And once the dust settled and the headlines stopped, the wounds healed, they sailed for a month from isle to isle. They let the boat just drift in the open sea and made love on the deck, on the forestairs, under the stars, whenever the urge hit, and wherever it took them. They pulled into small, festive ports and ate spiny lobsters or tilefish on the beach and danced to reggae bands in thatched-roofed bars, full of Red Stripe beer and Pyrat Rum.
Sometimes they would just sit on deck and watch the sunset, or the sunrise. And wonder why real life had to be any different.
Then she went back to D.C. Now, head of the Financial Terrorism office.
And he just continued to drift. What was next? What had meaning to him? She would send him texts; some cute, recalling their time together. Some sexy. She would refer to his scars and the many times he’d been shot. He’d write back that he loved to play the five chords from the opening of Philip Glass’s Music in the Shape of a Square that were tattooed on her butt. The result of a Princeton degree in musicology, before she went into the Marines.
Now he thought of her diving naked into the turquoise sea or dancing in cutoff jeans and a bikini top. He had the time of his life with her. Free. Neither wanted any attachments. She was a rising star with the world in front of her. He … he’d been around a bit longer and had cheated death more than one time.
Then the texts grew shorter and less frequent. She got involved in new cases. Told him to come back. And still he drifted. He’d received a ton of emails from people who wanted to meet with him. From Tom Foley, the CEO of Talon: When are you coming back? From his daughter, Jessie. Now sixteen: How long will u b down there, Dad? Have you gone mental??? Now he only checked his email once a week. He stopped doing his push-ups and crunches. His beard got thicker. If it was another month, then it would be another month. He just fished and sailed.
And then this message came.
Ted Whalen was his roommate at Bates College, where they both played football. Hauck was a running back, set all kinds of school records; records long broken. Ted was a tight end who mostly blocked and rarely caught a pass. The two of them, along with Ted’s pretty girlfriend, Judy, were fixtures there. Eventually they married. Ted went on to become a successful orthopedic surgeon. At first out in Colorado, interning at some famous clinic out there. Then after their marriage fell apart, at Brigham and Women’s back in Boston.
The message said that his daughter Danielle had gotten into a bit of trouble in Colorado, where she was living. Hauck was Danielle’s godfather. He remembered the day she was born, though truth was, he hadn’t seen her in years. He had gotten word a few years back that Judy had died out west. Complications from cancer. The last, sad punctuation point stamped on his college career.
Ted wrote: “I’m in Chile on a teaching sabbatical, otherwise I’d be on a plane myself. But from what I hear this might be more in your field of expertise than mine. Please go, Ty, if you can. I think it’s urgent.”
The last time he saw Danielle she was doing snowboard tricks at Mad River Glen in Vermont, where she and her dad visited one year. She was maybe thirteen. He’d promised Ted and Judy he would always be there for her, should anything ever happen. And that was before Judy got sick. Then they all drifted apart.
He wrote him back. “I’m on my way.” He didn’t even ask for a reason. The mountains would be a welcome change, maybe help him figure it out. Plus he owed them; owed him. Once a Bobcat, always a Bobcat, right?
He had made a vow.
Anyway, he was ready. Hauck looked out at the lit-up, purple horizon. Another gorgeous sunset. His last. He felt the old flicker in his blood start up, like an old engine coming to life. That spark he always felt on the job when he suddenly saw the mosaic of something larger than what the facts showed start to come together; when through the fog of misdirection and cover-up he saw with total clarity where a case was leading. That second sense. His muscles ached; but suddenly they felt ready. He put down his Red Stripe and stretched out on the deck. He started doing crunches. One, two, three …
He stopped at a hundred. Then he went downstairs and looked at himself in the mirror and took out his razor.
It had been too long.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#ulink_7c19f4f7-95b9-527b-9f34-7f6e5c754ec0)
The following morning, Hauck left his boat at a marina he knew on St. Kitts, caught an eight-seater prop for the half-hour jaunt over to St. Maarten, where he was the last one on the 11:30 A.M. to Miami, which connected late that afternoon to a United flight to Denver. He spent the night at the Aloft hotel near the airport, and by six the next morning, he’d rented a car and was on his way up Interstate 70 to Aspen.
He’d been out here a couple of times years before to ski. Once, back in college, where he and four friends crowded into a classmate’s family’s two-bedroom condo at Copper Mountain. Hauck’s folks were working-class people, and at Bates he worked a twenty-hour-a-week job on top of studying and football. Back then, he couldn’t have even afforded a cheeseburger in Aspen, never mind a place to stay or even the lift tickets. He remembered how beautiful the ride up was: the new airport cutting around Denver, passing Golden, where he always wanted to stop off and see the Coors brewery, then into the foothills with the old mining towns of Idaho Springs and Georgetown, their steep canyons and buffalo herd patches until he reached Loveland Pass at twelve thousand feet. Patches of snow were still visible as he emerged from the Eisenhower Tunnel.
He made it to Carbondale in just under three hours. Ted had said to talk to the chief of police there. A guy named Dunn. It was a small town in the shadow of a massive, lone mountain with outdoor shops and a ski-chalet-like Safeway on a quaint, main street. He’d put the location of the police station into his GPS, but after twenty years in law enforcement he didn’t need a satellite to help him sniff out a station. His nose led him right to the parking lot filled with parked green-and-white SUVs with CARBONDALE POLICE on them, outside a one-story, redbrick building attached to the Carbondale Town Center. He parked in a spot reserved for visitors.
Hauck’s beard was down to a growth, and in his floral Hawaiian shirt, jeans, and sunglasses, he didn’t exactly look official.
Inside, he went up to a female officer in a khaki uniform behind a glass partition, her hair in two long braids. She smiled pleasantly at him.
Hauck folded his shades into his shirt pocket. “Chief Dunn around?”
“He’s on the phone. I know he’s got to head into Aspen for a meeting there shortly after. Anything I can help you with?”
“I’m looking for a Danielle Whalen. I hear she’s a guest at the spa here.”
“The spa?” The officer looked up at him with a laugh. “You her lawyer?”
“Do I look like a lawyer?”
She laughed again. “Some of the lawyers here, why not? Hell, in this town you could be the mayor. Why don’t you take a seat; I’ll see if the chief is off. I know he was expecting someone. What did you say your name was?”
He gave her his card. “Ty Hauck.”
She got up and went to the back of the station past a couple of compartmentalized workstations. Hauck didn’t see any detectives. It was a small department. She knocked on the door of a glass-lined office with drapes restricting the view and poked her head in. A minute later she came back. “Dani’s a nice kid, but it’ll be a boon to all of us, the sooner you get her out. You can go on back.”
“Thanks, Officer.” He smiled.
He went back to the glassed-in office and knocked on the door that was left ajar. A stocky, middle-aged man in a uniform top over jeans stood up from behind his heavy wood desk.
“Come on in. Wade Dunn,” he said as he held out his hand. Despite the salt-and-pepper flattop, he looked no more than sixty, with a round face, a flabby jawline, a reddish complexion. He had an ornate belt on his jeans. His hands were thick, his grip was firm, authoritative, with a large turquoise ring. “Officer Jurgens said you were here about Dani …”
“Dani …?”
“Danielle. Sorry.” He motioned Hauck to a burled wood conference table. “I thought Ted might have mentioned I was married to her mother for a while.”
“No, he didn’t tell me that,” Hauck said, surprised. “He just said to look you up. I knew Judy a bit myself, back in college. In a way, I guess that makes us all kind of related.”
“How’s that?” The police chief crossed his legs. Hauck’s eyes went to the fancy python-skin boots.
“I’m her godfather.”
“Well, I’ll be damned! I guess that does make us all something.” The chief seemed pleasantly surprised. “Hell, I didn’t know she even had a godfather. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Or a soft drink maybe?”
“Nothing.” Hauck waved politely. “I’m fine.”
“So where’d you come in from, Mr. Hauck?” The duty officer had given him Hauck’s card. “Says Greenwich here. But you look kind of relaxed. L.A., maybe. You look kind of L.A., if you don’t mind me saying.”
“The Caribbean, actually. I was on a boat yesterday morning when Ted got in touch with me.”
“Caribbean?” Chief Dunn’s eyes widened. “Well, I have to say, you certainly do take the godfather role pretty seriously.”
Hauck smiled back. “Ted and I go back a long way. He said Dani was in some kind of trouble. There was no breeze. Here I am. So is she …?”
“Is she what?”
“In some kind of trouble.”
“Ty Hauck …” The chief leaned back and crossed his legs, and looked at Hauck’s card. He narrowed his gaze back on Hauck. “Jeez, I know who you are. I saw you on CNN or something. You’re the guy who was part of that investigation that led to that Treasury secretary’s arrest.”
“Thomas Keaton.” Hauck filled in the blank for him. “But I was only the one who got shot up a bit. Others did most of the work.”
“Not from what I heard. You look a little different,” the chief said, drawing a hand across his chin, “maybe because of the …”
“Midlife crisis,” Hauck said, referring to the growth.
“Well, I sure as hell know a lot about those.” Wade Dunn laughed. “Though mine landed me in this job. I used to run the force over in Aspen. Well, how about that, Dani has a celebrity godfather. So you knew her dad?”
“Ted and I went to college together. Back east.”
“Only met him a couple of times,” the chief said. “You’re one helluva friend to have, Mr. Hauck, if you don’t mind me saying. To drop everything and come out here.”
“So what’s Danielle done? I understand that she’s being kept here. Ted wasn’t quite clear.”
“It’s a bit hard to explain exactly what she’s done. Nothing really, when it comes to the law, except make my life a living hell. Professionally speaking. Personally, I like the gal. Practically raised her. But I guess you could say it’s sort of for her own good, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Look.” Dunn let his chair come back up. “We’ve had kind of some misfortune in the valley in the past week. Two things …” He told Hauck about the tragic, but likely unrelated, accidents. Dani’s friend, Trey, on the river, and the hot-air balloon that caught on fire in the air.
“That’s terrible …” Hauck winced. “How many were aboard?”
“Five.” Dunn shook his head. “Including the pilot. Who Dani claims wanted to tell her something about the rafting accident before his balloon went down.”
“What was that?’
The chief shrugged. “Claims he saw something on the river, but she never got to hear. The guy was a bit of a lone steer to me, if you know what I mean. Not all there. But Dani seems to think it was important. Look, these two events would be terrible for any community to undergo …” The chief lit up a cigarette. “Hope you don’t mind if I smoke, Mr. Hauck. Only real vice I have left,” the chief said. “The rest have all been legislated out …” Hauck nodded for him to go ahead. “But for us, here … Aspen may seem like a big, worldly place, Mr. Hauck, with all the glitzy stars and private jets, but truth is, this whole valley is just three small Colorado towns. Everyone knows everyone else. I know Dani was close to that young man who was killed on the river. Seems she’s gotten it in her head that these two terrible accidents weren’t exactly that.”
Hauck cocked his head. “Not sure I’m following you. Weren’t exactly what?” he asked.
“Accidents,” the chief said, taking a drag. “Worse, that they’re both somehow connected.”
“What do you mean by ‘worse’?”
The chief seemed to be taking a read on Hauck, his granite gray eyes settling on his. “Look, we’re both law enforcement professionals here … I may not have had the headlines you have on your résumé, and this is kind of a sleepy job now, but up in Aspen as you can imagine, I’ve seen a lot in close to thirty years …”
“I’m not sure I’m following.”
“What I’m saying, sir, is we turned over both of those incidents from hell and back—there’s been a state parks investigator on the river and a national safety team all over every part of that balloon, or what was left of it. And so far there’s not a stitch of evidence that says there’s been any foul play.”
“But Danielle is convinced that there is?”
“Dani’s like a mule. She gets on something and … You said you knew her mother?”
“For many years. I was the best man at their wedding.”
“You don’t say … Bowdoin, right …?’”
“Bates. Nearby, though. It’s—”
“I actually know where it is … I took Dani on her college trips when Judy took sick. I think she applied there, too. Could’ve gotten in anywhere she applied. She always had the quickest brain I knew. Maybe too quick for her own good. But there’s another part of her. That’s kind of her enemy. We all have those parts of us, don’t you agree? If you knew her mom, then you know what I’m talking about, Mr. Hauck.”
“Might as well call me Ty. If we’re related.”
Chief Dunn laughed. “Ty it is then … and I’m Wade. But what I’m saying is, that woman never once let anything stop her or get in her way if she had her mind set on it. Hell, I ought to know, I was married to her for eight years. Except the cancer, maybe.” Wade shrugged. “That stopped her. Cold. And Danielle …” He shook his head wistfully and ran a hand across his hair. “Well, she’s got her father’s smarts and her mother’s temperament. And I guess it’s worth saying, she’s never been the keenest fan of me.”
“And why’s that?” Hauck asked him.
“’Cause I was there. When her mom died. And best to say maybe I wasn’t the most caring person to have around at that time of my life, going through some weak moments of my own …”
“I hear you,” Hauck said. “I was sorry to hear what happened.”
“Years ago now. But anyway, Dani’s stirring up some wild accusations. Threatening to take what she found to the press, or to the police chief in Aspen. That’s just not helpful now. It’s not the way we do things here. I thought it would be better if we just took her out of the picture for a day or two, while the investigators were here. If you know what I mean?”
“You put her in jail?”
The chief shrugged. “We were fully vacant. The rooms were there.”
“They still around?”
“Who?” the chief asked.
“The investigating teams.”
Dunn shook his head. “Nope.”
“I think I get the picture. Ted only said she was in some kind of trouble. Can I see her?”
“See her? You can take her if you want, be my guest. We’re all hoping you will. Hell, for such a pretty thing, she eats more than I can afford anyway … You can see, we’re only a small department.”
Hauck stood up.
The chief stood up, too. “Try and talk some sense into her, would you? No one gains by her stirring things up like she was. Maybe let her show you the state for a few days. Until this all quiets down. I don’t know how long you have, but it’s beautiful country out here. Sorry to drag you off your boat, Mr. Hauck. For such a mundane reason. Can’t say I’d be a happy camper if it were me.”
“Show me the way. I’ll see what I can do.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#ulink_742f4165-e4bb-5bd9-9e07-94a8193f3374)
Hauck went inside the small cell block, down to the last of four manually locked cells. The only one that was occupied.
Danielle was on her back on the cot, in jeans and a T-shirt, one leg resting over a knee. She didn’t even look up at him. He could see right away that she wasn’t at all what he remembered. The wiry, athletic tomboy had grown up into a pretty, filled-out, young gal.
“Whoever you are, I want to see Wade. You can’t keep me locked up in here forever. I’ll call a lawyer. I’ve got a job and you’re keeping me from doing it. I have a dog that needs attention. And I’m sick of eating just Subway and Burger King. And I want a shower. And—”
“Calm down, and you might just get what you want,” Hauck said, stepping up to the cell.
She rolled her head, her soft blue eyes narrowing in on him. Then she jumped off the cot and stared at him, totally disbelieving. “Uncle Ty …?”
“I’m not really a big fan of Subway and Burger King myself,” he said. “Must be somewhere out here we can find some good Mexican food.”
Her eyes doubled in size. “Uncle Ty! What the hell are you doing here …?”
“Not surprisingly, your father sent me.”
“Dad …?”
It had been years, ten maybe, and Hauck took in the sight. Dani was now a pretty young woman. She was wearing a gray T-shirt that read, What happens on the river, stays on the river,
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Andrew Gross
The heart-pounding new thriller from the co-author of five No. 1 James Patterson bestsellers including Judge and Jury and Lifeguard, and the Sunday Times bestsellers The Blue Zone and Reckless.Leading a tour down the rapids outside Aspen, Colorado, whitewater guide Dani Haller comes across the body of a close friend. Refusing to believe it was an accident, Dani uncovers evidence that backs up her suspicions and takes her case to Wade Dunn, local police chief and her ex-stepfather.Wade insists the case is closed but Rooster, a hot-air balloon operator, claims he saw something that Dani needs to know. Before she can find out, however, Rooster plunges to his death in a fiery crash. Dani threatens to go public with her evidence, and finds herself thrown in jail.When ex-detective Ty Hauck receives word that his god-daughter is in trouble, he immediately jumps to her aid. Together he and Dani step foot into a sinister scheme running deep beneath the surface of a quiet, Colorado town that has made a deal with devil to survive.
Copyright (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
Harper
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2015
Copyright © Andrew Gross 2015
Andrew Gross asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780007384266
Ebook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780007484478
Version: 2015-02-04
Contents
Cover (#u197c3e9c-0bc1-5366-9173-e99b51598786)
Title Page (#u10b958a8-c331-54de-84b8-d30c43ac6dae)
Copyright
The Cradle
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Adrift
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
The Falls
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
One Mile Under
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Novels by Andrew Gross
About the Publisher
THE CRADLE (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
CHAPTER ONE (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
Dani Whalen noticed the first slivers of whitewater ahead on the Roaring Fork River, the current picking up.
“Okay,” she called out to the eight people in helmets and life vests aboard her raft, “it’s been pretty much a nature hike so far. Anyone ready for a little fun?”
As if on cue, the young couple from L.A. decked out in their bright Lululemons, Maury and Steve from Atlanta, he just a month into his retirement from a sales job, and the family from Michigan with their kids in the bow, all shouted back in unison, “We are!” and “Let’s do it!”
“Good to hear!” Dani said, catching the sight of spray up ahead from the opening set of rapids known as Entrance Exam, “’cause you’ve come to the right place.”
Dani was a whitewater guide along the stretch of the river known as Slaughterhouse Falls, outside Aspen, Colorado. And by “fun,” she meant navigating the series of eight Class Three and Four rapids that were the main draw of the river’s four-mile run. Not that there was much real danger. They were all well-protected, of course, and Dani had done this run hundreds of times with barely a hitch. But the first sign of froth rising usually did engender a blanched face or two—Class Fours had a way of doing that to first-timers. But Dani knew exactly how to get them going as well.
On any morning, she could point to an eagle soaring above the tree line, or a long-branch elk with its doe along the river’s edge; or a silver trout streaking underneath them in the current, which was definitely picking up now. That’s why she loved what she did. That, and the triumphant yelps and whoops that were always a part of being shot out of Crossbow, icy water cascading all over you.
But it was the thrill of whitewater that was truly in her blood.
She had been a geology major back in college, back east at Bowdoin in Maine, and she could easily have been in med school or doing fourteen-hours days on Wall Street like a lot of her friends, probably making more in one month than what she pulled in in a season out here. But this river was in her blood. She’d grown up on it. She knew most anyone who had anything to do with it. After college she came back for the summer, and started earning money doing for work what she’d always done for love, and entering a few competitions. She knew she wasn’t exactly building a real life for herself remaining out here—guiding in the summer, teaching snowboarding to the youngsters in the winter—certainly not a career. Her dad was an orthopedic surgeon, at Brigham and Women’s Hospital back in Boston, but he was in Chile right now on a teaching fellowship. Her older sister, Aggie, was in med school in Austin, and her younger brother, Rick, the real brain of the family, was studying 3-D graphic engineering at Stanford.
But Dani loved what she was doing—not to mention she could make it over the Gallows, a Class Five on the Colorado River with a twenty-foot drop, as well as any of the guys. And for her there was no payback better than the wide-eyed thrill and the yelps of exhilaration from a family being shot out of Cartwheel, with its 180-degree spin, to remind her of how much happier she was out here than back east behind a desk somewhere. In her skin-hugging neoprene vest and Oakley shades, her sun-streaked curly blond hair up in a scrunchie, her blue eyes focused on the river up ahead, every day was a reminder, that for the time being at least, she’d made the right choice.
That morning, she was handling the early morning run. Out at eight, back by noon. It was one of those picture-perfect Colorado days: the sky blue, the scent of aspens filling your nostrils, whitewater biting at you from the late spring runoff. Megan and Harlan, nine and eleven, were up in front with their parents right behind them. Dani didn’t want to scare them, though navigating the Falls pushing around two thousand cubic feet per second did require a bit of technique. Everyone was laughing, pitching in paddling, enjoying the ride. Her job was to give them the time of their lives.
As they made their way around Jake’s Bend, for the first time they could see the froth from Entrance Exam rising into the air. That’s when you knew you didn’t come here for a nature ride.
“Look!” Harlan was the first to point up ahead.
“I don’t know …” Dani said teasingly, “those Exams are looking a little angry this morning. I hope everyone studied up!” It was a bit of a performance, of course, to build the tension. The real trick was not letting them realize that. She always loved catching those first looks of anxiousness on everyone’s faces about what lay ahead.
“We may lose a few of you over the side,” she said, “so remember what I said if you end up going in.” Feet-first, and not to struggle against the current. And if they got trapped in an eddy, to just relax, not fight it, and sooner or later it would pop you back out. Dani had to tell them all that—like a flight attendant pointing out the exits on a plane—but in three years of guiding she hadn’t had an incident yet. “You people on the left, I’m gonna need a little help today, okay? I need you to paddle like crazy as soon as I give the word. Otherwise, we won’t make it through. You all up for that?”
They all took hold of their paddles and responded with nods of determination. “We are!”
“Good,” Dani said, maneuvering the raft down the left side of the rapids.
“So what about us …?” Steve, the retired salesman from Atlanta who was on the right side asked with some disappointment.
“Okay, you guys on the right, I didn’t mean to leave you out …” Dani held back, timing it perfectly as they reared, about to go over the first big dip. “All you have to do is just hold on for your lives!”
The froth kicked up and the raft plunged about five feet as she traversed through the tricky S-curve at the top of Entrance Exam, a chute of three interlocking, swirling rapids. The large raft careened against a rock. Everyone screamed as they were thrown up and down, out of their positions. “Okay, left side … Get ready …” Dani warned. “We’re gonna take on some big-time water in a second.” The raft kicked sideways, bouncing up out of a hole like a rubber bath toy in a tub.
“Now, paddle, everyone! Paddle!”
They lurched forward, nine paddles propelling them down the chute, icy water spilling in from all sides. Everyone on the left side worked feverishly, letting out screams and whoops. Dani guided the raft around and they spun through the last part virtually sideways, a huge “Whoa!” sounded as they dropped down another four-foot dip and then bounced out as if ejected by a slingshot, water cascading everywhere.
“All right!” Dani hollered. Everyone was screaming and drenched. “Everyone like that?”
“That was so cool!” Megan shouted, as they made it into a calmer stretch in between rapids.
“We lose anyone?” Dani asked above the whitewater roar. “Look around. I get docked if I don’t bring everyone back. Harlan, still with us, up there?”
The young girl was gleeful. Most fun ever. Her older brother, though, didn’t seem to think so and looked about as white as a ghost. Dani called up front, “What’s the matter, Harlan, you eat something that didn’t agree with you this morning?”
“No, ma’am,” Harlan said, blanched. “That was just really scary, that’s all.”
Everyone laughed.
“Well, now you’re a pro. From here on, it’s a piece of cake. And left side, that was great work! I want to thank you all for pulling us through. I did mention, didn’t I, that this was my first trip down, solo …” They all turned back to her. “No? Gosh, I left that out. I thought I’d told you all that. Well, maybe not my first, actually. I did do a demo run with one of the instructors when they gave me the job.”
Everyone was laughing. Barney’s Revenge was next. A legitimate Class Four. Followed by the Falls. Then One Too Far, where after you’re sure you’re through and start to relax, there’s this unexpected five-foot dip where your stomach drops along with the raft—the spot where Dani always yelled out, “Well, that’s the one too far!”
By Hell’s Half Mile they’d all been scared, exhilarated, bounced around like on a barroom bronco. Totally drenched. There were only a couple of more rapids to go. The Baby’s Cradle and Last Laugh, both less challenging Class Twos and Threes. The river was slightly calmer down here. Flat water, it was called. Though because of all the rains of the past week and the late spring runoff, there was a ton of water pushing them around, so every rapid posed a little challenge.
“Coming up on the Cradle …” Dani called out, a series of five interlocking chutes that gave you the sense of being rocked back and forth, hence the name. The first one always took you by surprise. She said, “I know I kinda gave you all the impression that it was going to be a piece of cake from here on in … Well, sorry—” As if from nowhere, the current grabbed them. “You all better start to paddle, guys … ’cause I’m afraid I lied!”
The next sensation was your stomach plummeting like a jet that had just dropped three thousand feet, dipping and rising, water spilling in. The adrenaline was rising. Everyone screamed. It was slightly tricky here, bounce off a rock and come out of a turn the wrong way and you could capsize. Once, Dani spun around and had had to make it through Slingshot backward and had almost fallen out herself. This time she nailed it perfectly, excited whoops of “All right!” and “Piece of cake!” coming from Harlan, who was now clearly enjoying himself, along with a lot of water-soaked smiles.
“You guys are proving to be tougher than I thought. So next up—” Dani positioned herself to take on the next rapid.
That was when she saw something up ahead along the shore that didn’t seem right.
It was just a flash of red at first, below the third of the Cradle’s rapids, the easiest, called Baby’s Rattle. For a second it just looked like an overturned kayak floating there, which happened occasionally. Everyone else was either paddling or laughing at their drenched raft mates and hadn’t noticed it yet.
But as she drew closer, her worst fears grew real. It wasn’t just a kayak out there, there was something inside. Someone in it. The flash of red she saw turned out to be the rider’s wind jacket. Suddenly the people up front spotted it, too, pointing.
“Oh my God, what’s that! There’s someone in there!” Harlan’s mother exclaimed.
“I see it,” Dani said, feathering the raft closer. “Everyone just stay calm.” Though inwardly she acknowledged that this wasn’t a good sign. “We’re gonna pull in over here and I’ll go take a look.”
She pitched the raft along the easiest route down the next chute, her heart beating anxiously now. She knew most of the people who rode out here, especially the ones who came out this time of the morning.
“I’m gonna pull in over there.” She steered toward a shallow rock bed up ahead along the shore. “I want you to all get out.” That way the raft wouldn’t continue to drift downstream with her team still in it. “Steve, Dale,” she said to the two largest guys, “I want you to help me drag the raft up onto shore. Everyone please wait here. I’m gonna go take a look. I’m really sorry you have to see this.”
They disembarked and dragged the raft up onto the shore bed until it was secure. Dani grabbed the radio out of the nylon gear case and clipped it to her belt. “Everyone, please, wait here. The current’s a little tricky and can take you by surprise. So whatever you do, don’t wade in after me.”
They all muttered, okay.
She ran along the shallow rock bed in her Teva sandals, until she got as close as she could to the overturned craft. It was trapped in an eddy pool, water swirling all around. Some forty feet from where she was. The current was still powerful here, enough to make what she was doing dangerous. Dani traversed her way across the rocks, slick as ice from a few thousand years of water rushing over them, her rubber sandals seeking whatever traction she could find. If she slipped, the current would hurl her down the final leg of the Cradle. She’d be separated from her crew. Not to mention, it was dangerous. She had no helmet. This wasn’t exactly smart.
Once or twice she almost slipped and had to catch herself, whitewater lashing at her legs. The overturned kayak was maybe ten yards from her now, on its side in the swirling pool. No sign of movement inside. The current tugging at her from all around.
Without a rope or a partner, she knew what she was doing really wasn’t the smartest idea.
Finally, she made it across, straddling the eddy where the kayak had come to a stop.
“Can you hear me?” she called out. But whoever was inside wasn’t responding and hadn’t moved. She could see it was a guy, but his face was in the water, the current slashing all around. He wasn’t wearing a helmet, either. Everyone always thought they could take this river without a care. Dani bent down, positioning her legs on the rocks for traction, and flipped the body over on its side.
Her stomach dropped, just as precipitously as if she had plummeted over the falls herself. She stared for a moment, shocked and disbelieving, denial, then sorrow filling her inside.
She knew him.
She stared into the dead rider’s drained, colorless face.
She knew him well.
CHAPTER TWO (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
Trey Watkins, Charles Alan Watkins III, whom everyone always jokingly referred to as “Your Honor,” because his name sounded more like that of a Supreme Court judge, than someone who could ski the back terrain at Aspen Highlands with the best of them. He’d done a few off-terrain videos in a few Warren Miller ski films—and rock-climbed out at Maroon Bells in the summer. He also used to teach hang gliding off the summit of Ajax.
Dani also knew he could get down this river without a hitch in the worst of conditions, and this surely wasn’t that.
There were abrasions all over his face and a fresh, oozing wound on his skull, and his neck was pitched at a horrifying angle. She grabbed his wrist and looked for a pulse, not finding even a hint of a heartbeat. Oh, Jesus, no … She rested him back down in the river.
Trey.
She knew he came out and did an early run before work sometimes, just to keep his feet in the game, now that he had a regular job. Regular, meaning off of skis, the mountain, or the river. She recalled how a few years back he and Dani had ended up together after last call at the Black Nugget, when Dani had come back after college after her mother had died. It wasn’t much of a relationship, or even what you’d call a fling. Trey wasn’t exactly boyfriend material back then. He was a quiet, rugged guy from a small town up north, and with his long ponytail, his washed-out, blue-eyed smile, and that easy, but confident way, women always seemed to flock to him. As Dani had a couple of times, maybe a little rootless and angry back then over her mom.
But somehow Allie Benton made all that change. Trey settled down, married, cut his hair. He even got a totally “straight” job managing the Outdoor Adventures shop in town. They had a kid. Petey. Who everyone said made Trey a changed man. Dani had last seen him a couple of months ago at the Post Net store in town. He was mailing off an application to the national ski trade show. He’d developed this custom mounting for those GoPro action cameras that skiers and riders put on their helmets, and which they were selling like crazy in the store. Dani remembered thinking, Who’d ever figure Trey Watkins for an entrepreneur? Amazing what having a kid could do.
And here she was staring at him now. Bloodied and crumpled. Those washed-out blue eyes that looked like Roger Daltrey’s of the Who stilled. It didn’t make a bit of sense where they were. Trey could handle a rapid like the Cradle with Petey on his lap. He could do it blindfolded, even with this amount of water being pushed around. Dani inspected his kayak. She didn’t see any gashes or dents. She looked at the oozing abrasion on the side of his head. She just closed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief.
Poor Trey.
She thought about trying to drag the body out and administer CPR, but he was gone. It was clearly too late. She took out the radio from her belt. The company bus was set to meet them all not too much farther downstream. It was already on its way there.
“Rich. Rich …” she called in. “Can you hear me? It’s Dani.”
No one answered. Only a scratchy static came back.
“Rich, get on the horn, quick, I need you,” she said, trying again. “It’s urgent. Something’s happened here.”
“You at the fords already?” Her tour partner finally came on the line. “God, you’re early, Dani, it’s only—”
“Negative, Rich. I’m at the bottom of the Cradle and we’ve got some trouble here. There’s been an accident.”
“Oh, shit,” he went, imagining the worst. “Everyone okay …?”
“Not us,” Dani said. “It’s Trey Watkins. His raft flipped over. There’s a gash on his head. He’s not breathing, Rich.”
“Trey? Oh my God …” Everyone knew him. “Any sign of a pulse?”
“Negative, again. I can’t believe this, Rich.” Trey could ride with the best of them out here. The most challenging water was all well behind him. She looked back and saw her raft team all gathered on the shore, looking on. “I’m holding him here, Rich. He’s dead.”
CHAPTER THREE (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
Chief Wade Dunn kneeled down on the rocks overlooking the river, as the Pitkin County Rescue Team pulled the kid out of the water.
Not a kid really. He was twenty-nine. One of those adrenaline junkies around town who did it all. Off-terrain skiing. Paragliding. Mountain biking. The on-site opinion of one of the EMTs who inspected the body was blunt-force trauma to the head and possibly a broken neck. Any one of those rocks could have caused it. No telling how far the raft had continued down. Made you wonder. Wade watched, lifting his Stetson custom cowboy hat. Trey Watkins was also a topflight river rider. This far downriver, he was way past anything that might have been thought of as a challenge. Wade knew his young wife. Allie. Pretty, and must be quite a gal to tame someone like Trey. And things were just starting to take off for the guy. A new kid, and he had this camera-mount business that was just getting off the ground. Allie’s father, Ted Benton, who owned a rib restaurant and a small hotel in town, once joked to Wade that his son-in-law was going to make them all look poor.
Wade watched the rescue boys do their job. Look at him now.
They lowered down a stretcher, then hoisted the body back up the slope, and cut a path in the brush to where the emergency vehicles had parked on the road. Wade stood up and looked at the body as they brought it by. It looked exactly like what it probably was: the kid must’ve flipped and struck his head on the rocks. Enough to cause that wound or to break his neck. Probably trying out some slick new move. Grab some air or a spin-o-rama, or whatever they call them today. And not wearing a helmet. Not as smart as ol’ Ted thought, apparently. These kids, they all think they’re invincible. Come here from all parts, think their life is a fucking X Game. They’d do a drug and alcohol test in the postmortem. Who’d bet on what they’d find?
Thrill junkie.
He was like that once, too, Wade reflected. Invincible, or he surely thought so. That was back when he was the sheriff in Aspen. Not Carbondale, the little commuting town thirty miles down the road where everyone lived who couldn’t afford to live in Aspen. Shit, he could’ve pretty much run for mayor back then. Or governor. Anything he wanted. He knew all the big celebs—Don Johnson, Melanie Griffith, Goldie Hawn, and all the big CEOs flying in on their Learjets and Citations. Now look at him. Divorced. Twice. Widowed once, though they had been living apart. A couple of stints in detox. Running a police force one-tenth the size of what he used to, and lucky to have the damn job at that. Looking a whole lot older than his fifty-seven years. Basically broke. Now he was what, the mayor of the sober community here in town? Younger, more ambitious men all waiting in line for him to retire.
Then there was Kyle. His boy from Wade’s first marriage. Came back from Afghanistan missing a leg and an arm, and his brain rattling around in his head like loose change. What did they expect him to do in life? And who was going to take care of him? His mom was down in Florida somewhere. Working on a cruise ship, last he heard. Kyle was still rehabbing in a VA hospital in Denver, where he’d been for two years. Learning to eat peas with that new bionic hand they’ve given him. Basically the same age as this kid, Trey.
Kyle had maybe five, six more months and then he was out. Who was going to watch out for him? What with the government cutting back benefits every day, and all the mess with the VA hospitals. Wade went down once a week to see him. Someone was going to have to help him in life. Pay for the kind of van to get him around, or retrofit his house to make it easy to live there. And all those bloody therapists …
“Wade.”
Dave Warrick came up from behind and put a hand on Wade’s shoulder. “Just letting you know, I closed down the river to traffic for the next few days. Until we get this fully figured out. I called into Denver.” The Roaring Fork was in a state park. “Parks Service’ll be sending someone around just to make sure.”
Dave ran the Pitkin County sheriff’s force in Aspen now. Wade’s old position. They had jurisdiction here. He was nice enough. Wasn’t his fault his old boss had been mixing bourbon and OxyContin he’d stolen from his own evidence locker. That had taken every friend Wade had left to get behind him. Not to mention every dollar too.
Wade agreed. “Seems like the right move, Dave.”
“I think you know the family, don’t you?”
“His wife’s.” Wade nodded. “He was from up north somewhere, I think. Maybe from around Greeley.”
“I took a statement from Dani. She said the kid was quite the rider.”
Wade shrugged. “Who knows what he was trying to do. Flips, three-sixties. These kids all watch Shaun White and think they’re him, minus the red hair. Doesn’t matter what they’re riding.”
“I hear you. So you want me to go with you? To see his wife. These things are never easy. Never hurts to have someone along.”
“Thanks.” Dave never used his new position to make Wade feel smaller than he was. “But after twelve years in AA, telling people how their life is about to come tumbling down on them, I think that’s one job I’m equipped to do these days.”
“Well, let me know if I can help.” They stood on the rock, looking. “Just seems like a big fat waste of a life to me.” The Aspen police chief shook his head. “Funny, isn’t it?”
“What?”
Warrick shrugged. “How it was Dani that found him …?”
“Chief, can you come over here …” One of the troopers interrupted them. Dave and Wade both turned, but it was Warrick they were calling. They were getting set to load the body into the van.
“As I said, let me know if I can help, okay …” Dave patted Wade on the shoulder. “I’ll be in touch when we have something back from medical.”
“Thanks.”
Funny … What was funny was that for twenty years, Wade felt like his life was running down his own set of rapids. Lying to everybody. Hiding what he’d done. Losing his wife. Then his town. Knowing one will capsize you in the end, just like Trey here.
Charles Alan Watkins III. Sounds like some judge somewhere. Wade watched them load the body. You can only make it through so long, right? Riding through life that way. Without a helmet. That’s the truth.
Wade scratched his head and headed back to his car.
He knew sure as anything, one time he wouldn’t make it out of those rapids, either.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
There was a kind of memorial gathering that night at the Black Nugget, the bar in Carbondale where a lot of the river riders and top skiers hung out. A few of them had already gone over to the house and paid their respects to Allie. No one could believe what happened: the bottom of the Cradle getting the best of someone like Trey. Everyone agreed that it had to have happened farther upstream, like at the Falls or Slingshot, and the current carried him down. That was the only way anyone could see it.
Allie told a few people that her husband had gone out the previous night. A friend of his from the shop was getting married and a bunch of the guys took him to Justice Snow’s, a bar in Aspen, for shooters and kamikazes. Apparently he made it back home around midnight. Allie said maybe he was a little tipsy when he came to bed, but in the morning he was up at half past six pumped to catch a run or two before work. All that new water out there, two thousand cubic feet per second. “Be back before nine, hon,” he said and gave her a kiss.
Same ol’ Trey.
At the bar, a bunch of them were still sitting around after nine P.M., going through their favorite Trey stories. His good friend Rudy was there, whom he’d ski off-terrain with for years. And John Booth, a paragliding instructor and sometime river guide, and his girlfriend, Simone. Alexi, a ski rep, and couple of others sat around, everyone trading stories and pitching in for beers. Dani was on her third Fat Tire. Rudy was telling one how he and Trey were once skiing out of bounds behind Highlands, trying to map out some new terrain for a Warren Miller film.
“The snow was pretty loose back there. The mountain had issued an avalanche alert, but Trey said the powder seemed pretty firm. ‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘Roots, you and I can outski whatever comes down that mountain. Look at it,’ he said, talking about all the fresh powder. ‘It’s once-a-season quality, Roots. One hundred percent pure.’”
“That was Trey,” said Alexi, lifting his drink.
“That was Trey, pre-Allie,” John Booth clarified.
“Totally pre-Allie,” Dani said. “Post-Allie, Trey wouldn’t even cut to the front of a lift line.”
“You got that right,” John’s girlfriend, Simone, said.
“So we’re zooming down this fall line,” Rudy went on, “and Trey’s ripping down the slope at full speed, eight feet of air at a time. I’m just doing my best to keep up, maybe twenty yards behind. And suddenly the ground shakes and I hear this rumble … I look behind and it’s this wall of white coming at me from the summit. I didn’t even have a second to react. Only to think to myself, Okay, Roots, this is the day that you die! It just slammed into me and took me away. I figured I’m gonna hit some tree at a hundred miles per hour or be buried under ten feet of snow, and Trey and I are goners. Finally it stops. I’m completely covered up. Not a sound. No one around. I don’t even know which way is up. I’m yelling, trying to make an air pocket around me and I got my GPS, but who knows if Trey’s got his. Or if he’s in the same boat. I’m pretty scared, but I’m also so f-ing mad at him for dragging me down there. I still had one of my poles and I’m jamming it in the direction I think up is, screaming holy hell, trying to show anyone around I was there.
“Suddenly, I hear someone calling my name. ‘Roots. Roots? Are you there?’ Guess who? I’m going, ‘I’m here! I’m right fucking here, you sonovabitch. You’re alive!’ I’m jerking my pole around like this.” Rudy thrust his two arms in all directions.
“So he’s standing right above me. Trey, bless his soul. I’m going, ‘Get me out of here! Get me out!’” The sonovabitch has got to hear me. Then I hear, ‘Listen, dude, I’m sorry to leave you like this, but I gotta meet someone at Starbucks. I’m gonna head back up to the lodge for a bit. Hey, you want a latte, man? I’ll bring one back for you. You like yours with or without froth …?’ I’m screaming, ‘Get me out!’ I start jerking the pole around. I wanted to kill him. Suddenly I break through. Turns out I was only about two feet under. He said he could see my boots the whole time. Who the hell knew …”
“Just be glad that it was Trey you were with and not me,” John Booth said, grinning; “otherwise you’d still be down there.”
“Funny.” Rudy sneered at his friend, taking a swig of beer.
“I actually saw him at Starbucks, just after that,” Alexi, the ski rep, said in his French accent, but with a completely straight face. “He said he left you back there and asked should he go back and dig you out? I said, ‘Aw, what the hell.’ He asked if he should bring you a latte and I told him, ‘Look, don’t go all crazy now …’”
“That was Trey,” Artie, his ski tuner in the shop, said.
They all clinked mugs again.
“It just makes no sense.” John Booth shook his head. “Where this happened. The Falls, maybe. Or even Catapult. Trey could do the Cradle with Petey on his lap.”
“Or why he was out there without a helmet?” Dani said.
“Trey didn’t wear a helmet,” John Booth said. “Off-terrain maybe, or if he was doing tricks.”
“You’re wrong,” Dani said. “I saw him lots of mornings out there. Since Petey was born he damn well did wear one.”
“Anyone find one?” John Booth looked at her. “The rescue team was all over the place out there.”
Dani shrugged. She had waited around to see after she gave her deposition to the police. “No.”
“So there you go. Probably trying a one-eighty or a rollover, or something, and all that water got to him. Maybe his reactions were a little dulled from the night before, who knows? Anyway, here’s to my man.” John raised his mug. “To Charles Alan Watkins the Third.”
“To Trey!” Everyone at the table joined in.
Through the crowd, Dani saw Geoff Davies come in.
Geoff was the owner of Whitewater Adventure, where Dani worked. He was thirty-four, from Australia, had a master’s degree in psychology, and had moved out here from L.A. after a divorce and bought the business. He built it up, with a clothing line and videos and state-of-the-art equipment. He and Dani had been seeing a bit each other for the last few months. Not a big thing, and probably not the smartest. either. Taking up with the boss. But it was only now and then, and Geoff was an upbeat, good-hearted guy, and smart. And anyway it wasn’t like this was some Fortune 500 company and there was a whole corporate hierarchy where it could get around. Whitewater Adventures had eight full-time employees.
“I heard this was where you could lift one up to Trey Watkins?” Geoff came over to the table.
“That it is,” John Booth said. “One more round,” he said, motioning to Skip behind the bar. A few of them had already had four or five, and that was becoming clear. “Sit right down.”
“Thanks.” Geoff grabbed the empty chair next to Dani. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She shrugged back. Though everybody probably already knew, they always kept things cool and gave each other just a friendly kiss on the cheek.
“So how’re you doing?” He gave her an affectionate stroke to her hair, which Dani had tied back in a thick ponytail. He had wiry brown hair and soft, gray eyes.
“Hanging in there. Everyone get back okay after Rich picked them up?”
“Not exactly how we normally like to end our deluxe Roaring Fork River Thrill Experience … But yes. I gave them all a full refund, of course. Not that anyone really wanted it. Up until then they all had a terrific time and they all said you were great. And how you handled it. They even left some tips for you. It just seemed the right thing to do. Especially with the kids in there.”
“I think it was the right thing.” Dani squeezed his thigh under the table. “That was nice.” The new round of beers arrived and they all toasted Trey one more time, Geoff as well. Dani downed a long swig, maybe a quarter of the mug.
“I heard his father’s coming down tomorrow,” Geoff said. “He’s a farmer from up north somewhere.”
Rudy nodded. “Trey always said he came from a small farm. He mentioned once that lately it had fallen on hard times.”
“There’s been a pretty long drought up that way,” John Booth added.
“Two or three years.”
“Sometimes your luck just runs out.” Rudy shook his head, enough beer that he was growing melancholy. “He just hit a rock the wrong way and … Just a freakin’ accident. Could happen to any of us the same way.”
“It wasn’t no accident.” They all heard a voice ring out from behind them.
Everyone looked around. A guy named Ron was at the bar—Rooster, everyone called him, because he had long, straggly hair, a pockmarked face, and a pointy chin. He was a balloon operator for one of the sightseeing companies in Aspen that took tourists up for a view of the valley. Rooster was in his fifties, a heavy drinker, who was always running his mouth off somewhere. No one cared for him much.
“What are you talking about?” Rudy shifted around.
“Just that it wasn’t no accident,” Rooster said again. His eyes were bright and kind of intense, either from the beer or with mischief, and he sat there, looking at them, seeming kind of pleased. “All I’m saying.”
“What do you mean, it ‘wasn’t no accident’?” John Booth said, mocking Rooster’s grammar. “What the hell was it then?”
“Not for me to say.” Rooster shrugged. “Just that he wasn’t alone.”
“Wasn’t alone …” John shook his head and rolled his eyes. “And you know this, how, Rooster …?”
“’Cause I was up there. This morning. Just after light. And I seen it. I seen what happened.”
There was silence. “You got something on your mind, Rooster, better let it rip,” said Rudy, shifting around in his chair.
For a moment, Rooster puffed out his chest like he was about to. The guy was always a weird duck. He always said he’d been a roadie for the rock group Boston; clearly they’d invited him to the party room one too many times. He didn’t have a whole lot of friends and mostly hung out alone. Dani had seen him drunk once or twice and it wasn’t a pretty sight. He’d been let go from his job by the owner of the tour company, but one of the operators had quit and it was summer, so apparently he was back on a temporary basis. Mostly, she just felt sorry for him.
“We’re waiting, dude …” Rudy tapped his finger. Rudy was large and had had a couple, and was known to have a short fuse. It had been a long day, and they had all lost a friend. It wouldn’t take much for him to let it go. “Now would be the time …”
“All I’m saying is, you didn’t see what I saw.” Ron backed down. He glanced around, looking for a way to get himself out of trouble. “He just wasn’t alone out there, that’s all.” He sat there, bouncing a leg against the barstool, as if thinking, maybe this wasn’t the smartest thing.
“You’re saying someone did this? So who was with him?” John Booth pressed.
Rooster saw that he was sliding headfirst into a mess. He cleared his throat, and stammered a second, evading the question.
“Ron …?” Dani pitched in, seeing he had gotten all nervous. “It’s okay. What did you see …?”
“Nothing,” Rooster finally said. His eyes hung, seeming both shot down and defeated, and they seemed to settle on Dani’s with a kind of contrite, regretful smile. “Nothing more to say.” He raised his glass to Rudy and John. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“C’mon, Rudy, that’s the end of it …” John Booth pulled his friend back around by the arm. “Just Rooster being Rooster. Sit back down and have a wing. We’ve all had a bunch to drink.”
“I ain’t drunk,” Rooster chimed in again. “Been clean for fifteen days now. It’s ginger ale. See …?” He held up his drink. “Anyway—to your friend.” He tilted his glass.
“To Trey …” Rudy nodded grudgingly, turning back around. Under his breath, he muttered, “Asshole.”
“I think you’re right,” Dani said to Geoff, sensing the shift in the mood. “Time for me to move along.” She went into her jeans pocket and came out with a couple of twenties.
“No way,” John Booth and Alexi seemed to say as one. They pushed her money back. “Your money’s not good here. Not after what you had to do today.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“You want to stay with me?” Geoff asked. “It’s a long way back.”
“I’m fine,” she said. She put her hand lightly on his thigh and smiled. “Thanks. But don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Besides, Blu will get me back.” Blu was her three-year-old yellow Lab, who went with Dani everywhere. She stood up and said, “It’s a work night, everyone, or at least it is for somebody out there … Time for me to get back home.”
CHAPTER FIVE (#u417ec7be-8793-5b4d-9cc9-64e48149ee72)
Blu got up from snoozing in the back as Dani climbed into her Subaru wagon. “C’mon, Blu, baby …” He stepped up to front, wagging his tail happily. “You’re shotgun, dude. Time to get me back home.”
Carbondale was thirty miles northwest up Route 82, and there were always a bunch of cops out at night. And Geoff was right, she’d probably had had one more than she should. She turned on a CD, a local cover band named Wet Spring. She made the turn onto Main and then went on through the rotary, heading onto 82. She settled in for the forty-minute ride.
Sure, accidents always happened, she knew. And that was likely what it was. John Booth was probably right, he could have been trying out some old spins or flips. He could have been going down backward. There was so much beautiful water, he could have easily hit his head a million ways, with no helmet. You pitch into a rock, or get sucked under by an eddy or thrown by a hole. Anything could happen on the river. They all knew the risks. Trey more than any of them.
Dani sighed. “What did it really matter anyway, right, Blu?” How Trey died. He wasn’t wearing a helmet. It’s a lesson for them all. He was dead.
That’s all.
Around the turnoff for Snowmass, she winced at the thought of Allie and Petey having to suddenly go it alone. To have their world ripped from them. Just like that. Like soldiers in the war, talking one minute, who drive over an IED. One day you’ve got a beautiful family and the sky is blue and the whitewater is rushing. The next day you’re gone.
Her mind flashed back to Rooster: You didn’t see what I saw, that’s all.
That Ron was a hard one to like. An even harder one to put stock in and believe. But what he had said seemed to stay with Dani. It wasn’t no accident?
Well, if it wasn’t an accident, what the hell was it then? Was there another rider out there? Did someone else ram into him, and cause him to spill? Or did someone come out from the shore? There was that rock bed down there by the Cradle.
She tried to imagine Rooster in the air gliding by. Then she let out a sigh of disappointment, suddenly realizing he was totally full of shit. There was no way to see the Slaughterhouse Falls run from anywhere near where the balloons went up in Aspen. Even on a perfect day like yesterday. It was at least a couple of miles away. Whoever had said it was right: the guy was basically a quarter short of a dollar between the ears. And always starting trouble.
Rooster being Rooster again.
That was all.
Wet Spring was singing their hit, “Misunderstood,” which she’d seen them do a couple of times, and Dani couldn’t stop herself from singing along. Blu had his front paws on the divider and his hind legs in the backseat.
From there it was another fifteen minutes to Carbondale. She pulled off Route 82 and into town, which mostly dark now—nothing much happening here after ten P.M.—and turned onto Colorado Street and into her apartment complex: eight attached units facing Mount Sopris. She shared it with Patti, who worked at the yoga clinic, but Patti was away in L.A. doing some certification seminar. Her neighbor’s calico cat, Cici, was slinking out on the lawn. She never strayed very far and sometimes walked along the fence that separated their decks when Dani was drinking her morning coffee or doing her sun salutations. And who, defying conventional wisdom, Blu seemed to get along with rather well.
“Hey, baby.” Dani bent down and picked her up. Cici was purring. “How was your day? Mine was pretty terrible.”
The door opened and Dawn stuck her head out. “Oh, Dani, sorry, she must’ve snuck out. We’ve been calling her.”
“No worries,” Dani said, handing the cat over. “I never mind a visit from my friend.”
“We’ve got a zin open.” Dawn was a massage therapist who worked at the St. Regis, and her boyfriend, Jerry, was a chef at the hotel, too. “You and Blu want to come over? Watch Jon Stewart?”
“Thanks,” Dani said, “but I’ve had enough. Rough day.”
“I know. We heard. So horrible. Did you know him?”
Dani shrugged, opening the door for Blu to go inside. “A little. More a while back than now.”
“You’re sure you don’t want that glass of wine? It’s a good one.”
“Thanks, Dawn. I think I’ll just crash. We’ll do it another time.”
“I understand.” Dawn smiled. “Let me know if we can do anything for you, okay?”
“Thanks, doll. I will,” Dani said back.
Inside, she peeled off the shell she’d had on since this morning and stepped out of her jeans. She threw herself down on the couch and took out the scrunchie from her ponytail and shook out her hair. She massaged her neck a little and blew out a weary blast of air.
Yes. Rough day.
She got up to make herself a cup of tea. Her cell phone vibrated on the counter. Part of her felt like she didn’t even want to look who it was. She already knew who it was anyway. Geoff, making sure she’d made it home. He was a gentleman like that. Part of her just wanted to take a long shower and go to bed and wake up and better things would happen tomorrow. She listened to the buzzing a third time.
She looked at the screen and saw a name she couldn’t place at first. Ronald Kessler.
Who the hell was that? Probably some marketing call. She was about to just let it go to voice mail when curiosity got the better of her and she just answered. “Hello?”
“Dani?”
By the time she put it together who it was he’d already told her. “It’s Ron.”
“Ron?”
“Rooster.”
“Jesus, Rooster … Ron, how’d you get my number?”
“I had it once. Remember, you recommended some customers to us a year or two back.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” It struck her as a little creepy that Rooster had kept her in his phone all this time. “Listen, Ron, it’s a little late and I’m just getting ready—” There was a lot of noise in the background.
“I know it’s late, Dani. I don’t mean to bother you,” he said. “There was just something I had to say. About what happened back there at the bar.”
“Look, we all had a little too much to drink …” In a weird way Dani always had a soft spot for Rooster. In the same way you might feel sorry for a stray cat. The guy was an outcast. But he didn’t mean anybody harm. John Booth was probably right, he’d just taken one too many hits of something back in the day. “But Rudy was right, Ron. Trey had a wife and kid, and you can’t just go around riling people up making accusations that you can’t support.”
“I wasn’t making anything up. And I wasn’t lying. About what I said I saw out there this morning.”
He hesitated just like he had at the bar. She put on the kettle for her tea.
“Ron, if you’ve got something to say, just say it. Or else take it to Chief Dunn.” She knew Rooster knew Wade. Wade was once his sponsor in AA, and that didn’t go so well. Rooster had slipped several times and had a reputation of not being honest in the program. “And just so we’re real here, you can’t even see that part of the river from where the balloons go up. You know that better than anyone.”
“I can’t take it to Chief Dunn. There are some things between us. I know he thinks I’m a few of bricks short of a wall. Everyone does. And maybe I am. Plus, I wasn’t supposed to be where I was out over the river earlier. I was the only one up today and this nice couple, they handed me a hundred-dollar bill to stay up there a while longer and let it drift. That’s why I’m calling you.”
Dani started to grow impatient. “Me?”
“You can take it to Chief Dunn, Dani. He’d want to know this.”
“Ron, please …” Dani put in the tea bag and poured water into the mug. “It’s been a rough day for everyone. And I’m getting ready for bed. So what is it you saw?”
“All I can say is, your friend wasn’t alone out there on that river.”
“I know, that’s what you’ve been saying. Look—”
“He was wearing a red windbreaker, right?”
That took her by surprise. He was.
“And his kayak was blue …?”
Dani didn’t answer, but her hesitation seemed to give Rooster the sense that he’d struck something with that.
“So I’m not so crazy after all, am I? I didn’t know it at the time, but it had to be him, right?”
“So who was out there with him, Ron?” Dani’s attention was suddenly aroused. “Ron, it’s crazy in there. You still at the Nugget?”
“How about you meet me at the balloon field in the morning.” Near the Aspen Industrial Park where the balloons went up from. “I got a ride at seven and we’ll be all tethered back by eight thirty.”
Dani didn’t have a tour in the morning. And, yes, she could take it to Wade. Whatever Ron claimed he saw. He did have the color of Trey’s kayak right, and what he was wearing.
“Will you be there?”
“All right, I’ll be there,” Dani said. She suddenly felt the hairs on her arms stand on edge. She didn’t even like the idea of being alone with him.
“I know he was a friend of yours, Dani. But you were always a fair person to me. Not like some.”
“Yes. I know that, Ron.”
“So I’ll see you at eight thirty, then. After my ride.”
“Okay.”
“And Dani …”
“Yes.”
“I don’t care what anyone thinks, I wasn’t drunk. I wasn’t drunk tonight and I surely wasn’t this morning, either. You believe me, right?”
“Yes, I believe you.” Before she’d left the bar, she checked with Skip, the bartender. To be sure. Rooster had been drinking ginger ale.
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_af279609-28b3-59a7-bc19-092d21859853)
The sun came up slowly over the mountains the next morning, covering the Aspen Valley in streaks of yellow and rose, as the four balloons rose majestically into the sky.
It was a picture-perfect dawn, light dappling the moss, peaks bathed in glinting sunlight. Ron revved the burner with heat, the blue flame shooting into the envelope with a loud hiss, sending the balloon higher.
On board, the four passengers oohed.
“Take a look over there,” Ron directed them. “That’s Aspen Mountain there shrouded in shadow, and as we get up, you can see those two peaks to the west, those are the Maroon Bells, two of over fifty-three mountains in Colorado that are over fourteen thousand feet.”
In his basket was some big-shot financial dude from Connecticut, who was trying to work it out that he and his bundled-up trophy wife could get a private, trying to buy off the launch manager. But it didn’t work out. And a middle-aged couple from Japan, equipped with the requisite camera and one, long fucking lens, Ron admired. At five hundred feet, the four balloons cut a beautiful path across the morning sky, each of them a colorful design of reds, yellows, and greens.
By seven, they were at six hundred feet, the maximum elevation today because of the winds, and Ron cut off the burner, cooling the air.
The view was amazing.
“Wave hi to your mates over there,” Ron said, pointing to the closest companion balloon, maybe a hundred yards away. The Japanese couple waved and the husband aimed his gargantuan lens. The financier and his wife were bickering about where they were going to have lunch later, the burger at Ajax Grille or sushi at Matsuhisa.
Suddenly Ron felt a thud from above. The whole basket rocked back and forth. Everyone looked up. “What the hell was that?” the financial guy asked, his wife clearly a little spooked and not happy in the first place to be sharing the ride with the Japanese couple.
“Don’t know,” Ron said. “Maybe we hit a thermal. It’s kind of like a wind inversion. There’s a breeze today.” He checked out the other balloons to gauge his relative height and noticed he had descended slightly. He opened the valve and shot a blast of flame hissing into the balloon, momentarily lifting it to where it was before. “I think we’re okay. So check out that river to the northwest out there.” He pointed. “That’s—”
The basket wobbled again. He noticed them losing more altitude. Air was definitely leaking from somewhere. He may have to bring this baby down. Then suddenly he heard a tearing sound from above them. The basket lurched again, swaying. Everyone grabbed the sides. Ron shot more heat in, but nothing seemed to be happening. Except that they were losing air.
And altitude.
“Is everything all right?” the financier’s wife asked, looking a little edgy.
Ron looked above and kept pumping as much heat as he could into the envelope. “Don’t really know.”
A call came in on the radio. Steve, in the next balloon. “Ron, you got something wrong on your right side. You’re definitely losing your pitch. Can you see it? You better get yourself down. Pronto.”
“I hear ya,” Ron replied. “Exactly what I’m doing, Sorry, folks, seems to be some kind of malfunction up there. I’m going to have to take her down. Shouldn’t be a problem.” He kept pumping in as much heat as the balloon would take. But still they kept coming down.
“Cole! Cole!” he radioed in to the company attendant at the landing field. “Something’s wrong with the balloon. We’re leaking air. I’m coming back. Now.
“Nothing to worry about,” he said supportively to his passengers, who were now clearly anxious. “We’ve got a malfunction in the canvas. But I’ll get you down. These babies are fit to—”
Suddenly he heard another tear. They all heard it this time. Phhfft. “What the Sam Hill …”
The basket lurched again, this time terrifyingly. Then there was a deep groan emanating from above, hot air leaking out, colder air coming in.
The balloon swaying and collapsing.
Over the radio he heard, “Ron, you’ve got a full-scale implosion going on! I can see it. Get your ass down as fast as you can.”
“I’m trying, I’m trying,” Ron replied. He continued to rev the valves, thrusting as much heat as he could into the envelope, compensating for the cold air rushing in through the tear, to bring them down at a manageable speed.
It wasn’t working.
“What’s going on? What’s going on?” the financial guy was yelling. Their descent started to pick up speed. “Do something!”
“I’m trying, I’m trying,” Ron said. “Everyone be calm.”
They were still five hundred feet up. He looked up and saw the huge tear on one side, a flap in the material buckling and falling over, a huge swath of it suddenly falling down on top of the basket, and to Ron’s horror, catching the flame and suddenly igniting.
The balloon became engulfed in flame.
“Do something!” the financial guy’s wife shrieked, her eyes bulging in terror.
“There’s nothing I can do!” Ron replied, continuing to rev heat into the useless, crumpled canopy. He grabbed the radio. “Mayday, mayday, we’re going down!” They started to fall out of the sky, picking up speed. The ropes holding the basket could catch at any second and then …
The financier’s wife was sobbing on the floor mat. Her husband gripped the basket’s rim and looked down in disbelief. The Japanese couple huddled together.
Ron shouted, “You know a prayer, this would be the time to say it.”
He always wondered what this would feel like. How he would react. In his dreams he had dreamed it many times. It was like a bad trip. And he’d had many of those. “Mayday, mayday!” he screamed uselessly into the radio as the basket began to plummet. “Oh Jesus Lord, we’re going down!”
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_d090c9a0-cc32-54f3-a84d-f3af5bfac97a)
Dani saw it as she headed into town before her rendezvous with Ron.
Around the cutoff to the Aspen Industrial Park just after the airport, traffic was being slowed into one lane. She saw EMT vehicles, their lights flashing, and it seemed as if every cop in the valley was there. A throng of people, many out of their cars, were lining the highway looking on. In the large field which the Aspen by Air Balloon Adventure used as their takeoff site, a plume of black smoke funneled high into the air.
What the hell had happened?
Dani pulled up to one of the cops who was waving on traffic. She recognized him as a guy she had gone to high school with, Wesley Fletcher. She rolled down her window and leaned out of her wagon. “What’s the hell’s going on, Wes?”
“Balloon dropped out of the sky. Five people on board, Dani. Traffic’s being routed onto Rectory Street into town.”
“Five people.” Dani felt her stomach tighten “Whose?” she asked, though she was sure she knew the answer even before the question even was out of her mouth. “Whose balloon was it, Wes?”
“Aspen by Air. Rick Ketchum’s company. They’re up every day.”
“I don’t mean who owned it. Who was operating it?” Dani pressed, a feeling of dread grinding in the pit of her stomach. “The one that went down.”
“All I was told was that there were four tourists on board. And everyone’s dead. And some guy named Ron.”
“Ron?” Dani’s heart went still. Rooster.
“I guess the balloon fell apart at five hundred feet into a ball of flames. But, look, I have to wave you on now, Dani. Gotta get these vehicles routed over onto Rectory, and as you can see—”
“Is that Chief Dunn’s car over there?” She saw a white and green SUV with the Carbondale police lettering on it, among the many vehicles pulled up in the field.
“I think that’s him. I saw him drive up earlier.”
“Thanks, Wes.” Dani pushed on the gas and caught up to the car in front of her. She got as far as the rotary until she realized she no longer had any reason to be here now. She pulled over to the side and let her head drop against the wheel. Poor Rooster. Her heart felt heavy as she tried to imagine such a grisly descent. Things like this just didn’t happen here. But that was only part of it. Part of what was making her insides feel so worrisome. The rest was what Rooster had claimed he’d seen yesterday, and now he was dead. The fool was going around shooting his mouth off.
He wasn’t alone out there. That wasn’t no accident.
Dani looked one last time at the plume of black smoke. Hot-air balloons just didn’t fall out of the sky.
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_da5f2726-8589-542d-bbd2-3d5152bb7cf5)
She waited until the end of the day, until she saw his vehicle parked outside the station back in Carbondale. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to see him at work. Years. Certainly not since her mom had died.
“He’s on the phone,” a female duty officer said. Dani didn’t recognize her.
It wasn’t a big station, tucked into a corner of the Carbondale Town Center. Three or four desks, and some workstations. A room with a vending machine that doubled as an interrogation room. There were one or two detectives; whatever they did, Dani never knew. Any real investigation or forensic work was handled out of Aspen. When Wade took the job—the only job he could get—he joked that it was mostly setting up DUI roadblocks and the occasional marijuana bust.
And now, new state laws had even taken that away from him.
“If you wait over there I’ll tell him you’re here.”
“I’m his stepdaughter,” Dani said. “He’ll see me.”
She went right past her, the duty officer standing up, surprised, going, “Hey!” Wade was at his desk on the phone, his feet propped up against a drawer. The ever-present python-skin boots and that large, turquoise, Indian ring. He’d probably die with them on. On the shelf behind him were a couple of photos. Wade in his glory days. With his arm around Antonio Banderas and Melanie Griffith. Another with a younger-looking ex-president Gerald Ford. There were a couple of Kyle. One in his army uniform while in Afghanistan; the other, he and Wade fishing up in Idaho. Apparently, Dani hadn’t make the cut. There were a couple of AA books stacked on the credenza, and an empty bourbon bottle, which he always said he kept close as a constant reminder of worse days.
“Let me know when they finish up …” Wade was saying. He eyed Dani unhappily, as the young officer who had asked her to wait rushed in after. Wade waved her off with a Don’t worry about it gesture, motioning Dani into a chair.
She didn’t take it.
“I’ll check in with the guy from the Parks Service as soon as he finishes up,” he said. “Be talking with you then. Thanks.” He hung up and took his feet off the open drawer.
“The duty officer out there didn’t make it clear I was on with business,” he said, scowling at Dani like she’d burst in to sell him a new cell phone contract.
“You’ve got a problem, Wade.”
“Thanks for pointing that out to me, Danielle. Let’s see, five people are dead. The whole world’s gonna be breathing down our backs looking for answers. I always knew we did a good job by sending you back east to that fancy college.”
“Six, Wade. There are six people dead. And just to keep the record clear, you didn’t send me. Mom did.”
He wheeled his chair around to face her. “Well, I sure took you, didn’t I? So anyway, six. If you count what happened out on the river. You’ll have to forgive me, it’s been a pretty crazy twenty-four hours here. Not that the two are in any way related.”
“But that’s just the problem.” Dani stepped up to the desk. “I’m pretty sure they are. Related.”
Wade snorted a short blast of air out of his nostrils, his round, sagging eyes regarding her both skeptically and condescendingly. “I asked you to sit, Danielle.”
This time she sank into a hardwood chair across from him.
“And what makes you think some hotshot kid taking a spill on the river would be related to a tragedy like this …?”
“I was headed into to town to meet with Rooster,” Dani said. “Just after it must’ve happened.”
“Rooster?” Wade shrugged.
“Ron. Kessler, I think was his last name. He was manning that balloon.”
“I knew who was manning the balloon, Danielle. And I knew his name. I called him a lot of things, but Rooster wasn’t one of them. All right, you barged in here, you’ve got my attention. I don’t know why your paths would cross with the likes of him, but you were going in to meet with him why …?”
“He was at the Black Nugget last night.”
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me one bit.” Wade snorted derisively.
“A few of us were having a little tribute to Trey. Rooster … Ron was at the bar and cut in about how he saw something yesterday morning from his balloon.”
“He saw something …?” Wade rolled his eyes.
Dani said, “Exactly how I thought you’d react, Wade. And why Ron said he didn’t want to come to you with it in the first place. He heard us talking and he said what happened out there to Trey wasn’t an accident. That he wasn’t alone out there. He said he had seen something, but he backed down because Trey’s friend Rudy Thommasson and John Booth were a little drunk and got him all nervous. You know how Rooster gets. Anyway, he called me after I got home and asked me to meet him this morning in town.”
“Asked you to meet him …?” Wade scrunched his brow. “To tell you that Trey Watkins wasn’t alone on the river. Meaning, what, that someone was along with him? Or was there when it happened? You’re saying someone was responsible for his death?”
“I don’t know what he meant. Only that he said it wasn’t an accident. He was about to tell me after his run.”
“Look, Danielle.” Wade squared around. “I don’t mean to speak poorly of the dead, but Ron Kessler was a person who wouldn’t know what was real from a half-gallon jug of rotgut vodka. And when he wasn’t boozing he was just a fool who would say anything that came into his mind if he thought it would get a rise. I bailed his ass out in AA enough times and he was never once honest with me. I even volunteered to be his sponsor once, when no one else in the program would have him. I don’t know how they even let him operate that balloon, but from all I heard he did his job and it wasn’t his fault.”
“He wasn’t drunk,” Dani said.
“He wasn’t drunk?” Wade eyed her skeptically and snickered.
“Last night. He wasn’t. I know everything you said. We all thought so. But he made a big point of saying he’d been sober for three weeks. And I believe him. He even showed what he was drinking at the bar. Ginger ale.”
“Dani, I don’t care if the guy was sober as a preacher, Kessler would tell you whatever you wanted to hear if it stepped him up one tiny notch in his own importance. Your friend flipped his raft five miles out of town on the Roaring Fork River. Even if something did happen out there, whatever the hell he meant—which I’m not saying, only making a point—no way he could have seen that from the air.”
“He said he was the only balloon up that morning and he took some extra cash from the customers to stay up and let it drift a bit over the valley. That’s why he didn’t want to bring it up. He didn’t want what he did to come back to his boss and bite him. That, and because he knew you’d say exactly what you did. Which was why he came to me.”
“Well, I guess I never made it much of a secret.” Wade nodded. “You learn to live with people’s weaknesses in the program. God knows, I’ve had to own up to enough of mine. But let’s just keep it that ol’ Ron, or Rooster, or whatever the hell he went by, zigged when the world zagged one too many times over the years and the world hasn’t been a straight line to him since.”
“Then I’d guess you ought to understand that yourself,” Dani stared at him, “and be a little more sympathetic.”
Wade’s eyes grew fiery, but then they calmed, and he let out a long exhale. “Yes. On that point you’re right. I do. Understand. But I don’t have the time to argue that with you now …”
“Wade, look,” Dani pulled up her chair, “anyone who knows anything knows Trey could handle the lower Cradle rapids in his sleep. And even if what took place happened somewhere farther upstream, say around the falls, the raft likely would have washed up somewhere north.”
“So you’re saying, what? Someone killed him? Someone was out there with him, like this Rooster said. And then what? That what happened to him up there this morning, and all those other poor people, was what … to keep that gerbil from running off his mouth off or something? To stop him from telling the world what he claims he saw. You did start this whole thing off implying they were connected.”
“I don’t know what I’m saying, Wade. But balloons just don’t fall out of the sky. A day after someone goes around saying that they’ve seen something. Whatever else you might want to say about him, Ron did know how to handle himself up there. He’d been doing it for a lot of years.”
“I don’t know, maybe there was a rip or a flaw in the fabric or something. Or maybe something flammable got caught in the gas jet. The right people will figure that out. Or maybe your poster boy there just did something stupid, which he was eminently capable of doing, Dani.” He shook his head.
“So tell me, where was Trey’s helmet, Wade?” Her tone was starting to grow a bit defensive now.
“I don’t know about Trey’s helmet. Maybe he wasn’t wearing a helmet. I mean the same guy would hurl himself off the summit of Aspen Mountain with only a sheet of nylon attached to him, so to me, it’s not much of a stretch that he would go out on the river without a helmet.”
“Well, you’d be wrong on that. Not since he had his boy. I saw him out there a dozen times. And yesterday you were sure he was either high or hungover. So what did toxicology come back with? I know the first thing they would have done was check his blood over in County.”
“Jesus, you’re sounding like a cop now. The river’s closed for a day or so, so maybe you can find yourself a whole new career.”
“He was a friend, Wade.” She kept her eyes fixed on him. “So I’m asking, what did they say? About his blood?”
“About his blood …?” Wade shrugged and rocked back in his seat. “They said nothing, Danielle. Hundred percent clean. I’ll give you that.” There was a pause, one that seemed to carry the weight of the many issues between them, until Wade shook his head. “C’mon, Dani, who the hell would possibly want to kill Trey Watkins? Honestly …”
“I don’t know.”
“And all this because of some news flash from a totally disreputable source that he wasn’t out there alone. Or your belief that he could handle that section of the river in his sleep? Or not finding any helmet?”
Wade stood up and came over, and sat on the edge of his desk. “Listen, Danielle, I get that he was a good friend, but what we have here are two tragic, but separate occurrences. Trey Watkins probably tried some ill-advised maneuver that got his head wrung up against a rock. That balloon, it’ll come out there was something going on. It imploded. That’s what the witnesses saw from the other balloon. Rare as it is, it happens. We get one shred of evidence that says it’s something different, I’ll be the first to jump on it. They got some team from the Parks Service in today and looking around the accident site. And I damn well know they’ll be going over that balloon shell with a fine-tooth comb to find whatever they can, though God knows what that would be as it’s nothing but a burnt-up mess, I’m afraid. How about you let me and Sheriff Warrick do our jobs. For God sakes, you’re as headstrong as your mother. And you saw how that went.”
“Seemed to go fine, Wade …” Dani said, her eyes flashing to the bourbon bottle on the credenza. “God knows how. Till those bottles were full and not empty.”
“Easy to blame me, I admit …” Wade nodded and frowned. “I know we got some unfinished business between us, Danielle, but I was always a friend to you.”
“Just look into it, Wade. That’s all I ask. Please …”
The female duty officer outside came in over an intercom. “Chief, Sheriff Warrick’s on the phone for you.”
Wade nodded and went back to his desk. “With your permission … I gotta take that now.”
Dani got up and headed toward the door. Her eyes went to the credenza behind his chair. “I meant to ask, how’s Kyle doing?”
“He’s fighting. They got him fitted up with a new leg. He’s learning how to get used to it. Thanks.”
“I know I should go and see him more.” She liked Kyle. For a couple of years, when she was twelve, he was like an older brother to her. Before he signed up.
“I’m sure he’d like that, Dani. And listen …” Wade picked up the phone and crooked it in his shoulder and held his finger on the waiting line. “I’m sorry about Trey. But how about you leave the police work to me and Sheriff Warrick. And when the river opens back up in a day or two, I know that’s where you’ll be.”
CHAPTER NINE (#ulink_28318972-01d5-58b5-87f9-0ad26e2a1c15)
It continued to gnaw at her, no matter what Wade said: what Rooster said he saw. So the following morning, the river closed to traffic, Dani went back out along the stretch where she had found Trey’s body. There was a road that followed the river, paved at spots, mostly not, which the whitewater companies used to meet up with their rafts at the end of their runs, and cyclists and campers to head to the many trails and campsites in the park.
As she drove out, she reflected on yesterday’s meeting and her history with Wade. Her mother and her dad were divorced when she was six. He was in his residency at the Aspen Orthopedic Clinic, under a well-known orthopedic surgeon, and her mother, Judy, was the daughter of Tom Barnham, who owned the dry goods store on Galena, then bought the building outright, and then over the years, the one next to it and the one next to that, even becoming the mayor in town for eight years. When Dani was twelve, her mother married Wade, who’d had a few reversals in town, and who became the country sheriff mostly through his father-in-law’s influence. Whatever the glitzy veneer, Aspen was then and has always remained a small town at heart, where insiders matter. Dani recalled them happy at first, and Wade became kind of a sizable personality about town, strutting around alongside the rich and famous in his trademark cowboy hat, python boots, and flashy rings.
But when Dani was sixteen, a miscarriage made her mom depressed, and then she started getting headaches. And Wade, whose self-destructive nature took over, stopped taking the kids fishing and camping and started coming home drunk—from parties he used to call his “public responsibilities,” but then seemed to turn into all the time. Once he totaled his car and another time he got into a public fight with one of his officers right in the middle of town. He went into the program—even went away once for a month—but then he started using stronger stuff, which only came out much later, and which came to a head when he pilfered a couple of hundred OxyContin tablets from his own police evidence locker. By then it had all fallen apart for him and he was forced to resign. Her mother grew worse and worse, and Dani took a semester off to care for her. But in Dani’s sophomore year, Judy just suddenly seemed to give up and died. Complications from the disease, it was called. Her mom was taking her own share of medication back then, and Wade was mostly at his worst, and not much of a caregiver. But Dani still always pictured her in her mind, smiling and pretty, braiding Dani’s long, curly hair and singing “Sweet Baby James” and John Denver songs with her, with those Colorado blue eyes. Dani even tattooed an “Ai,” the Chinese symbol for love, on her shoulder, with her mother’s initials.
So maybe Dani did always blame Wade a bit for her demise. Or at least, for not helping. Dani was in the process of transferring back to Boulder when her mom just fell off a cliff. For years Dani blamed herself for not having been there at the end. The suddenness had taken everyone by surprise. Wade may not have actually killed her; Dani had finally come to terms with that. But his own problems surely sapped the strength out of her and helped her to decline.
Dani drove along the river to the spot at the Cradle where Trey was found, which was now blocked off by tape with a Pitkin County police van parked there. She continued down about a half mile to a spot they called the Funnel, where the various currents fed into a narrow channel, about a quarter mile up from the ford, where the rapids tour ended.
She parked in a small turnout on the side of the road. She knew the narrow pathway that led down to the river, which this far down was wider than upstream, but not much more than a rocky, shallow bed on each side. She knew this river like the back of her hand. She knew the currents, where they fed. As a kid, she had once lost a backpack in the current all the way back above the Falls, and weeks later she found where it had ended up.
At the Funnel. Here.
Dani climbed down through the brush and onto the shoreline. The alluvial currents here had widened out a deep gorge in the aspens and firs. She knew it was kind of like finding a needle in a haystack. Without even knowing if the needle was even hidden here. She saw a beer can glinting among the rocks. A flip-flop sandal was nearby, which must have slipped off someone’s foot. A waterlogged Penn tennis ball. She kicked over an empty can of beans, stepping over the small, loose rocks. Because of the depth, the water color changed here from a clear blue and white to a musty gray.
It wasn’t around.
She kneeled in the shallow bed, disappointed. It was kind of a long shot anyway. If it had washed down, she was pretty certain it would have ended up here.
She scanned the opposite side before going back up to her car.
Something glinted. Nothing more than a fleck of color amid the rocks on the shoals. Across the stream.
White.
The river was shallow here and easy to ford. Except for the narrow channel in the middle that was still about two feet deep where you could still traverse a raft. Dani went in in her shorts and Tevas and made her way across. About thirty yards. Her sandals gripped the silty river floor, water rushing by her knees. The current was mild here. No threat of being swept away. Not like what she had to go through to get to Trey.
She crossed toward the object she’d seen, which was nestled amid the rocks.
Whatever hope she had that she’d found something faded.
All it turned out to be was just a white plastic drink container. She bent down, picked it up and tossed it farther off the riverbed into the brush. Probably someone’s water container that had fallen overboard. It could have been sitting here for months.
Maybe Wade was right. It was possible Trey had been just riding recklessly and hit his head against a rock. It’s possible he wasn’t wearing a helmet. Maybe Rooster did just make it all up—for the attention. To be the big shot. Anyway, it was now all kind of moot. Both Trey and Ron were gone. She’d never know, though something still inside her said—
Something farther along the shoreline caught her eye. Half submerged amid the vegetation along the shore. She went over, the black composite almost completely blending in with the gunmetal water and dark green vines.
She picked it up by the strap. It was a little scuffed, beaten up from its ride downstream, bouncing off rock after rock.
Her heart started to race.
Trey’s helmet.
But it wasn’t dented. Dented in the way it would have been if its wearer had sustained blunt-force trauma to the head.
Which had to mean one thing. That it hadn’t been on Trey at the time he sustained his injury. If he’d cracked it with enough force to kill him you would have surely been able to see it. Holding the black helmet, Dani knew that had to mean something, right?
Her blood surged. So she wasn’t wrong, at least, not about that part. Trey had been wearing it.
So maybe she wasn’t so wrong about all the rest of it, either.
CHAPTER TEN (#ulink_8894bbe9-5394-5dff-89bd-a12dbc18f058)
Back in her car, following the river back upstream, she searched for the spot above the lower Cradle where she had found Trey’s body.
The road narrowed there, barely wide enough for two cars to pass, with dense brush crowding in from both sides. The aspens and pines were so tall here Dani could barely see the sky. She came up to the clearing where the rescue vehicles converged when they pulled Trey out. It hadn’t rained since, and tire tracks and footprints were still visible all over the dirt road.
Dani heard the roar of the river slashing against the rocks below.
It was clear, even in just Class Two or Three rapids, that Trey couldn’t have just nested to a stop here. His raft must have been carried down from farther upstream and come to rest in the eddy. She heard Rooster saying, You didn’t see what I saw. He wasn’t alone. Now she was even more certain he hadn’t been lying.
But just what did that mean?
Had someone been along with him on his run? That wouldn’t be hard to determine. The ranger station would know. But if it was all just a terrible accident, surely that person would have called it in. And if so, they surely wouldn’t have taken such a lethal reprisal against Ron in the balloon.
No, it had to be something else. It wasn’t no accident out there … Someone had to have stopped him.
The police vehicle was gone now. Dani made her way down the slope to the ridge above the river and scanned upstream. The cold spray off Baby’s Rattle lashed at her, the sun glinting off her shades. It was possible that someone else had climbed down here and intercepted him on the river. But that would’ve had to have happened farther upstream. Or they’d have to have made their way down along the shoreline in between the first two rapids of the Cradle where the currents slowed a bit, in order for his body to have ended up here.
There were rocks in the river near where Trey was found. The Raptor’s Teeth, they were called. Three sharp, pointed rocks that protruded out of the water, four to five feet high. If Trey had sustained a crash hard enough to cause his death, surely his helmet would show the impact. And it didn’t. So how did it come off? How did it end up all the way downstream?
Dani followed the rapids from the high rocks, twenty or thirty feet above the river. She had to climb up and then down in order to follow the edge, but she was pretty nimble, having done her share of trekking and climbing in these hills. Once or twice, she even had to jump from one height down to another in her Tevas. If she stumbled she could easily fall in and hit her head or break a bone and be carried away. It was slow work; it took about ten minutes to climb a hundred yards.
Finally she made it to the Teeth. It was calm enough here for Trey to have been pulled over by someone. If a person had come out, pretending to need help. Or with a gun maybe. Yes, it could have happened here, Dani imagined. But why …? It was Trey. Why would someone have wanted to kill him?
She turned and looked back up the shore toward the road, and spotted something in the woods.
The narrowest pathway, which seemed to cut through the thick brush, barely wide enough to even be called a path. Barely wide enough for just a single person. It wound down directly above Baby’s Rattle, the second rapid in the Cradle, right above the Raptor’s Teeth.
So someone could have climbed down there from here.
Curious, Dani went back and followed the narrow path from the river’s edge back up the slope toward the road. Thorny branches slapped in her face and scraped against her bare arms and legs. She was no scout or tracker, but she had the feeling someone had been here recently.
As she neared the road, she noticed something. She kneeled, sweating slightly in the sun, peeling back leaves and crushed branches on the ground to see.
It was like a small clearing had been made. Low branches were flattened against the ground, within a few yards from the road.
Not by hand, she could tell. It looked as if it was done by the front wheels of a vehicle.
So someone might well have been here.
She cleared away some of the leaves and brush on the ground. There were tire tracks. Something had pulled in—and whoever was in it had continued from the road via that pathway down to the Cradle.
To the very spot where Trey had been killed.
Her blood surged with vindication. It didn’t prove a thing. Any more than finding the helmet did.
It didn’t prove that Rooster was right. That, it wasn’t no accident out there …
But he was damn well right on one thing.
Trey hadn’t been alone yesterday morning. Someone had definitely been here.
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#ulink_0d905b85-2a6b-55f0-aa68-504f96ff9418)
“Who the hell would want to kill Trey?” Wade screwed up his eyes, staring at the helmet Dani dropped on his desk.
“I don’t know who’d want to kill him. But I told you he was wearing a helmet and he was. You see any significant dents on it anywhere? Don’t you think if he received a head injury severe enough to kill him, there’d be some evidence on it somewhere?”
Wade’s response was laced with impatience and rising frustration. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to think.” He took off his glasses and looked it over. “And you’re saying this proves what …?”
“It proves he wasn’t wearing it when he sustained his head injury. And the next question would be, Wade, how do you explain it coming off?”
“Don’t teach me my job, Danielle. And I don’t know how the hell it came off. Maybe he hit his head aside a rock. Maybe he took it off himself for some reason. To breathe. To take a leak for all I know. But this is all starting to cross the line. You’re coming to me with this helmet, claiming it was Trey’s, and that someone made their way down the rocks and then did what, lay in wait for him, to kill him …? Not even knowing for certain if he’d even be there.”
“I know how it sounds. But Trey did a seven A.M. run a couple of times a week, so it wasn’t a long shot that he’d be there. And I was looking around on the ridge above where I think it all might have happened and I found something else.”
“You did …?” Wade’s look of impatience was now amped up into the range of exasperation. “Surprise me, Danielle.”
“I found a path. In the brush above the river. Leading back to the road. From exactly the spot where Trey had to have been killed.”
“You mean where you think he had his accident, Dani. And if I need to remind you, there are paths all over the heights above that river. You and I have been through dozens of them. I don’t see what one more proves.”
“This one leads directly from the road to the spot just above the Baby’s Rattle.”
“The Baby’s Rattle …?”
“It’s a rapid on the upper Cradle where I think Trey was killed. Look, I know how it sounds, Wade. But I also found fresh tire marks near the road where that particular path came out.”
“Dani.”
“Which means someone else was there, and—”
“Dani!” She stopped. Wade sat back down. “We’re dealing with a lot here. And this is starting to strain my nerves. Someone kills Trey in the river and then sabotages your pal Ron’s balloon to keep it covered up?”
“He’s not my pal, Wade. He wasn’t even a friend. But that’s not even the point. The point is … I don’t know what it is …” She sat down, trying to lay out her argument with everything swimming around crazily in her head. “The point is we all know Trey could have done that run with his eyes closed. So how does he just upend, lose his helmet, crack his head. And then couple that with what Rooster saw …?”
“What he claimed to see …”
“What he saw, Wade. He knew exactly what Trey was wearing. And with Trey’s helmet not being on him … and those fresh tire marks on this path. I just think it’s something worth looking into. If you’re not so interested, maybe someone at the Aspen Times might be. Or Sheriff Warrick.”
Wade stared back at her, and this time with a lot more than merely frustration. “You must be kidding, young lady.”
“I’m not kidding, Wade.”
“You know what you’re saying?”
“I’m just saying someone else might find this all adds up to something. Enough to look into. Did you check the balloon?”
“This is really starting to cross the line for me. Did we check the balloon for what?”
“I don’t know. For anything that looked … suspicious.”
Wade glared. “Course we checked it, Dani. Teams of people who know what the hell they’re doing have been over it all day. The outer fabric is pretty much a burnt-out mess. And what are we looking for anyway? A rip? A tear? If what you’re suggesting is true, some person sure went to an awful lot of trouble and risk to cover up the death of a basically broke, adrenaline-junkie, joy rider.”
“What about a bullet? That could have caused it, right? It could have torn right through.”
“You’re starting to sound crazy now.”
“All I’m asking is if anyone heard what may have been a shot going off nearby?”
Wade stood up again, came over to her, and sat himself on the edge of his desk. “What the hell is it about this, Danielle? This has gone too far. I know he was a friend. I know there are parts of all this that don’t somehow add up to you. But no one else is seeing it that way. What they’re seeing is a guy who may have gotten a bit too reckless and maybe misgauged how much water there was out there, which is exactly what the investigator the Parks Service sent agreed it was today.”
“I know that river, Wade. No one knows it better than me—”
“But you’re not a cop, Dani. You’re a river guide. A smart one, maybe, but you’re way overreaching here. And when you say silly things like you just did, about bringing in the press, more than they already are, it’s starting to strain my patience to even listen to you. There are families coming here to retrieve their loved ones and there’s zero tangible evidence to get everyone riled up that says it’s anything other than two tragic, but unrelated events.”
Dani stood up. Frustration ran heatedly through her blood, too. It all made sense to her, at least to a point. But Wade had one thing right. One thing she couldn’t answer. Trey wasn’t exactly the type to have enemies, so why, why would anyone want to do this to him?
Wade’s shoulders sagged and he let out a resigned breath. “I tell you what …”
“What?”
“I’ll talk to Allie.” Trey’s wife. “I’ll see if there was any reason anyone would want to do him harm. Not that I believe there was, you hear me saying. But that’s a start, right?”
Dani looked at him. The blood eased out of her face. She nodded. “You could check out those tire marks, too,” she added. Then finally she gave him an accepting and contrite shrug, even a smile. “Yes. It’s a start. Thanks.”
“All right then. But the only reason I’m even agreeing to this is for you to stay out of it from this point on. No more detective, okay? It’s getting people riled up. Especially me. We’re opening the river back up tomorrow. Please, get your ass back on it.”
Dani nodded again, against her better instincts. “Just ask her, okay?”
“And I don’t want to hear any more threats about taking this to someone. Or I’m gonna have to figure out something else, Dani. To keep you out of it. We agree?”
“What do you mean by something else, Wade?”
“I don’t know. Just don’t. Understand? I need you to promise me.”
She looked at him. “Rooster wasn’t drunk, Wade. He knew what Trey was wearing. He saw something. He just didn’t feel he could bring it to you.”
“I said I need you to promise me, Dani …”
Her face was still flushed and red. She kept looking at him and he didn’t know what she was going to say. Then she finally nodded, the air going out of her cheeks. “All right. I promise.” She reached for the helmet.
Wade put his hand on it. “Where do you think you’re going with that?”
“Trey’s wife. It was his. She may want it.”
“Sorry.” He pulled it over to his side of the desk. “That’s evidence. It stays with me.”
CHAPTER TWELVE (#ulink_1120e24b-151d-5d54-b448-47b4c5a6be29)
Later, in an oversize Bowdoin T-shirt and sweat pants, Dani sat polishing off the last of a beer, her second, Blu curled up on the kilim rug in front of the TV.
“What is all this about, Dani …?”
There were a couple of messages from Geoff that she hadn’t returned. The first was business: “Okay to do the bus leg on the afternoon run tomorrow and give Rob a chance to guide?” The second was more personal. “Look, is everything all right, Dani? You’ve been a little distant since Trey. We haven’t spent any time together, and you kind of brushed me off the other night. I know you’re upset. I’d like to come by tonight if that’s all right. We could catch a bite. Or I could give you the ol’ down-under back rub and we could catch up on a couple of episodes of House of Cards …”
She started to text him back that she just wasn’t feeling up to it tonight.
She really didn’t want to make trouble. And not with Wade. It was true, he hadn’t been much of a husband to her mom. There were always rumors of him screwing around and he didn’t exactly shine with compassion when she deteriorated and really needed him. By that time he was either too drunk or too stoned to be of much help; then he was let go from the Aspen sheriff’s office and had to call in every favor he was owed not to have been brought up on criminal charges.
But he’d always been nice to Dani. Growing up, he was like one of those larger-than-life figures who would come in your life every once in a while and was always involved in fun, cool stuff. He took her camping and riding. He introduced her to famous people as “his little girl.” Then he’d go on a binge. She’d gone to a few Al-Anon meetings and the part about how addicts weren’t even in control always hit home. Wade was at the top of the list. The only parts of his personality stronger than his charm and charisma were his urges to be temperamental and self-destructive. Dani had tried to forgive him for being such a shitty husband to her mom. And at times maybe she had. And then sometimes his betrayals and constant pushing her mom away when she needed him most crushed her and broke her will. The same will everyone said they saw in Dani.
But now this was Wade’s last chance in life, and it was clear he didn’t want to rock the boat. To Dani, the mosaic all fit together. Trey. The Cradle. The path that seemed to have been made down there from the road. Rooster claiming he saw something and then his balloon crashing down in flames. Maybe she couldn’t prove any part of it, but it was all there for anyone to see if they wanted to take a look. She knew she was pushing the line with him. Wade didn’t like to be crossed and he surely didn’t like his authority questioned. Not in this job, which was the last rung on the ladder for him. And maybe Dani had made him look small to his staff.
But she couldn’t just walk away from it. She couldn’t just pretend it was all just some unrelated incident so the Chamber of Commerce could still brag about what an idyllic valley they lived in here.
What’s this all about? Wade had asked of her.
She got up and went out to the deck. The moon was bright. The crickets were buzzing. The sky was dark and wide, the shadow of Mount Sopris looming in the distance. It was like you could see every star on the sky.
She sat in the Adirondack chair and put her feet up on the railing and swigged her beer. Blu shuffled out and curled up at her feet.
She wasn’t about to stop, no matter what Wade had made her promise. How could he understand? She owed Trey. She owed him big.
Maybe everything.
They were on the upper Colorado River in Gore Canyon, two Aprils ago. There were four of them. Chase Gould and Tom Twilliger, both expert rafters. The lure was the biggest early spring runoff in years, over a thousand cubic feet per second coming down the river, which turned a Class Four into a Five, and a Five into sheer heaven.
Trey heard about and he called Dani and they decided to join in. They packed up their gear in Chase’s truck and made the ninety-minute drive to Kremmling. Gore was an unspoiled mountain canyon, lined with snowcapped mountains and jagged cliffs. The three-mile rapid run through it had some of the most challenging whitewater in the country.
Dani had done the run once before, but never with so much water. It started out moderate: Applesauce and Sweet Dreams, easy Class Threes, just to stick your toe in the water, as they say. The gems were up next. Scissors, which could cut anyone up or flip you over, and Pirate, with its deep holes and rocks the size of buildings, and a ton of water slashing around. It wasn’t just good technique that got you down; this run was also about strength. In the hardest water Dani had ever had to push around. There were plenty of yelps and whoops of exhilaration, paddles raised triumphantly at every chute they made it through.
Then they hit Tunnel Falls.
Most people do Gore Canyon for the Kirshbaum, a half-mile narrow chute of rocks and holes with a 120-foot vertical that builds up the speed like a raceway. But the Falls is its signature rapid. Massive rocks on both sides of a narrow chute and then over a twelve-foot drop. You have to navigate through it at just the right line; otherwise it’s a headfirst wipeout. Guaranteed.
And that was with half the water the four of them had that day.
Chase was up first. The best and most experienced of them. He’d won a few competitions. The basin at the bottom of the falls had a ton of water thrashing about in it. He hit it just like they drew it up, the rest of them looking on from thirty yards upstream. He disappeared over the edge, spray and foam exploding around him, and from where they were they had no idea. And then ten seconds later they saw him reappear fifty yards downstream, his paddle raised high, his ecstatic whoops drowned out by the turbulent water’s roar.
“Whoooiieee!” Trey lifted his paddle in appreciation. They all cheered.
Tom was up next. He was no slouch himself. In his red helmet and yellow raft, the back of his craft careened into a rock just as he went over and he didn’t hit it right.
“Shit,” Trey groaned. “Wipeout.” Dani watched him go over and couldn’t see what had happened below, other than seeing Chase, downstream, running his finger across his throat, meaning he’d capsized. It took a while until she finally saw Tom again, hanging on to his raft, riding with the current, giving the thumbs-up that he was okay.
“You ready?” Trey asked Dani. “I’ll pick up the rear.”
It was Trey’s way of saying, I’ve got you covered if anything happens, and were it anyone else Dani would have probably shot back, “You first. By all means …”
Instead she just nodded and said. “Up to you. Last one down buys the beer,” and steeling her nerves, pulled into the chute. She never felt there was a run she couldn’t make it down, even this one with more water than she’d ever handled. She knew the trick was to keep the approach steady and hit the falls head-on so that the crosscurrents wouldn’t pitch you to one side, which was what had happened to Tom. Dani felt her speed pick up and strained to hold her line, but the whooshing current was stronger than she anticipated and pitched her around. As she got within six feet of the drop, she knew she was off-line, the back of her raft knocking against a rock, spinning the bow sideways. Her heart leaped up and she tried to correct, but there was no way she was strong enough to push this powerful a current around.
Fear gripping her, she basically went over the edge sideways.
To this day, she recalled the sensation of her heart toppling even faster than the raft, before being slammed by the icy water headfirst, as hard as if she had barreled into a wall. Her helmet knocked into something hard—a rock, the bottom?—and then the desperate, helpless realization that she was out of the craft in Class Five water.
Over the years, she’d wiped out a hundred times—everyone had. Tom had just a moment before. That’s how you learned. Spread your arms and get your feet forward and try to hold onto the line to your craft, she told herself.
But the line slipped out of her grasp. She felt her kayak shoot off ahead of her and when she tried to position her legs forward, it was like they were caught up in something.
It took her a second for her to realize: She was underwater.
Her first mistake was to try to yell, which sent a rush of icy water into her lungs. She gagged. She quickly got her wits back, realizing, though the fall was disorienting, that she’d been caught in some kind of whirlpool—fierce water swirling around. And even with her senses dulled and the knifing sensation of icy water in her lungs, she knew to make herself as still as she could and not to panic nor fight what was happening. Let the vortex release her and lift her up. She’d practiced it a hundred times.
But this time it didn’t.
A frantic fear began to set in. Being thrashed around, not knowing up from down, her eyes stung by frigid water like dozens of bees attacking her, the coldness in her lungs sapping her strength.
Stay calm, she told herself, stay calm. But in her agitation, seconds seemed like minutes. She had no idea how long she was under and she feared she would lose her breath. Her mouth opened, water spilling into her lungs. Numbing her. For the first time in her life she felt fear on the river. Her instincts failed her. It took everything she had to suppress the basic urge to scream.
Please stay calm, Dani. Somehow. Don’t struggle against it. The eddy will free you. You know what to do.
She realized Chase and Tom were way too far downstream to help. No way they could make their way back up against that current.
And Trey, sooner or later, he would realize what had happened. Chase had probably already given him the sign. But how long would he wait to see if she came through? Or if, coming after her, he’d nail the run perfectly and be swept right past.
Panic started to rush into her blood like the icy water in her lungs. She began to feel the very real fear that this could be it for her.
Let me up. Let me up. Dani started to struggle against it, which she knew was the wrong thing.
Please.
On the deck with Blu, looking up at the starry sky, Dani was gripped by the same sensation as if it were yesterday. One she’d never felt until that moment.
And hadn’t since.
The overwhelming feeling she was giving up.
That she was going to die.
In the river, she felt water all over her, icy and black, the irony that something she loved so much was now about to kill her. In that moment, her mind actually began to drift, to a scene from her childhood, her mother telling her she was too young to go out on the river by herself. She’d have to wait another year. She was maybe ten then. Then—
She felt herself being lifted back up. It’s working, she remembered thinking, sure that the current was giving her up.
But it wasn’t the current. It was Trey, a hand clamped onto her wet-suit collar, the other hanging on to a rock. Pulling her out. She broke free and sucked a desperate breath into her lungs. She gasped over and over, coughing out water, throwing her eyes back at the beautiful blue sky, heaving.
Free.
“I’ve got you, Dani. I’ve got you,” she remembered Trey saying. “You were in an eddy. But you can relax. Breathe in. I’ve got you now. You’re safe.”
She clung to him like he was a buoy in the middle of the ocean, and she wanted to cry.
“Jeez, and all the really hard stuff is still a ways downstream …” He grinned at her, in that offhand way of his and with a wink that at any other time she would have wanted to throw a punch at. But this time she just smiled and hugged him, nodding, wiping away the tears. He positioned her on his chest, feet forward, between his legs, and they followed the current downstream back to her raft.
She stayed with them and finished the Kirshbaum as if it were a Three.
What’s this all about? Wade had asked, not knowing what lay at the heart.
She owed Trey. Owed him everything. He hadn’t given up on her.
No way she was about to give up on him.
Especially now.
That’s what this was about.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#ulink_305411aa-59e7-57bf-9cf9-6d52a403848f)
That same night, Wade was in his home up the canyon in Basalt. Not where he used to live, on Red Mountain in Aspen. Those homes went for millions now. In a rented house, kind of a dilapidated eighties chalet, with a dirt drive and the garage filled with his things, so he had to leave his Bronco parked outside. He’d gone to see Allie Watkins at the end of the day, just like he’d said he would. First, to pay his respects; Trey’s father had come down from up north to take possession of his boy’s body. Then to ask her, just for appearance’s sake, if somehow there was anyone out there who would want to see her husband harmed.
Her raw, red eyes looked back at him quizzically.
“Just a formality,” he explained, “in these types of things. We’re just crossing off a line of investigation.”
She shook her head. She had her long blond hair wrapped back in a braid, and was in a kind of peasant dress with a shawl covering her shoulders. “I mean, there was someone who he had a dispute with over the patent they were applying for on his camera mount,” she thought back. “Mark Conners. He and Trey went to school together at CSU. But he lives in Massachusetts now. He wasn’t even here.”
“Massachusetts,” Wade said, nodding.
“Anyway, they seemed to have ironed it all out. Trey was giving him a small share of whatever he made. So no, no one, Chief Dunn. You knew Trey. Everyone liked him. I don’t know what you mean …”
“I’m not meaning anything, hon,” Wade said, putting his arm around her as he went to the door. “Now don’t go worrying about it. You’ve got enough to deal with as it is. You go take good care of that little boy of yours, okay?”
Later, he scraped together something to eat and sat down in front of the TV with a coffee. Tonight was one of those nights he longed for something a whole lot stronger.
She’s always been a tough one to rein in. Dani. Going back to when she was a kid. Whatever she did, she did as tough as any of the boys—rock climbing, hockey, snowboarding. Once she got on something, it was like a demon was in her head. One that wouldn’t let go. She had that headstrong nature. Like her mom. Wade hadn’t had much luck in that department, either.
This time, though, just this once, he knew, he would have to back her down.
There were things she didn’t understand. Things she would see in a different way if she persisted. A way that could cause trouble for him.
Things he had to make sure didn’t come out and that couldn’t get around. Too many things depended on it.
He drank up the last of his coffee and flicked on the TV. His cell phone sounded. He took a look and saw that it wasn’t his office. The words on the screen, UNKNOWN CALLER, made the acid in his stomach shoot up. He didn’t even want to answer, but, he knew, these weren’t exactly the kind of folk you left hanging. “Hello.”
There was no greeting, only a slight pause, then a firm but soft Oklahoma drawl almost hissing the words at him. “You said this would be a piece of cake, Chief. All buttoned up. So far, I’d say that’s anything but the case.”
“I know.”
“I don’t really want to hear that you know, Wade. I think you know the consequences of what happens if we can’t contain this.”
“I’ll handle it,” Wade said, though he saw the thing unraveling like a spool of thread in a cat’s paw.
“You’ll handle it, huh? You’ll handle it how, Wade? We already thought you had it all neatly bundled up. And now there’s another person going around making even more trouble. Some girl …”
“Listen …” Wade said, his stomach tightening as if it were squeezed into a ball. “How do you know about that?”
“Don’t you worry how we know about things. Just worry how you’re going to set it right. This was all supposed to go easy. First we find the kid on the river. The same route he always goes. Tuesdays and Fridays, right? Bright and early. No one around. Other than some fool flying in a goddamn balloon who goes spouting his mouth off. We both better hope he didn’t take pictures.”
“He didn’t. And you didn’t have to do it the way you did. Now I have all kinds of trouble here to factor in.”
“Sheriff, I promise you,” the caller laughed, “your little town doesn’t even know the meaning of the word trouble, if that’s what it is.”
“This time you stay out of it. I’ll take care of it,” Wade said. He also knew these were not the kind of people you lost your temper with. “I’ll make it go away.”
“Stay out of it …?” The person on the other end chuffed back a laugh. “How do you think you even got yourself reelected, Lieutenant Johnnie Walker Black? We stay out of it, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself appointed to the prom committee of your local high school.”
“It won’t go any further. I give you my word.”
“Damn right it won’t go further … ’Cause if it doesn’t, everything stops. Today. Not another dime. That boy of yours will have to find his own way back in life without our help. That understood?”
“It’s understood.” Wade gritted his teeth and swallowed the acidy taste back into his stomach.
“I want to be clear, Chief. Carbondale’s a cute little town. But if we have to make another stop down there, it might just be for you this time. So factor that kind of trouble into your thinking, Wade.” After waiting a moment to let the words sink in, the caller hung up.
Wade placed the phone back on the table, anger roiling inside.
He needed them off his back, but he had let them in. That he couldn’t deny.
Yes, one long set of rapids to run, he said to himself. No different than Trey.
Dani better keep her trap shut, that was all there was to it. Or he didn’t know what he’d be forced to do.
One thing he should’ve learned a long time ago, you deal with the devil, you better get ready for the temperature to rise.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#ulink_6cdb8d07-cef4-5e40-9366-d15ece871ead)
Early the next morning Dani was back out on the river.
There was a ranger station at the beginning of the park road. Cammie was on duty. Dani knew her, of course; she was out here almost every day. She handed out maps and advised people on where to camp and the conditions.
And they also kept track of the car traffic. All day.
“No run this morning?” Cammie said as Dani drove up, leaning out of her hut. The river had just been reopened and Dani waited at the gate until a few vans and buses from both Whitewater Adventures and a few competitors went on through. There was no kayak strapped to the top of Dani’s Subaru.
“I’m doing the bus pickup later this afternoon. Cammie, listen, you mind if I talk to you about something?”
“Not at all.” The ranger leaned out and looked down the road, seeing no one behind them. “Lots of doings out here these past two days. What’s on your mind?”
Dani pointed to the camera at the gate that recorded the license plates of all vehicles going inside the park. “You keep that thing on, don’t you?”
“Twenty-four/seven. Even after the gates are closed. State law.”
“And you keep the film here? From the past few days.”
They’d known each other for years, even though Cammie was about ten years older. But she’d been part of the park detail for a long time and Dani had been coming here since she was a teenager. Her booth had a picture taped up with her and her female partner. “Just what date are you looking for, Dani?”
Dani looked at her. “Last Tuesday. The twenty-second.”
Cammie looked back at her. “Tuesday was the day Trey Watkins was killed, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was.”
“That must have been rough.” The park ranger stepped out of her hut. “I know the two of you were friends. He still came out here a couple of times a week. He always seemed like a nice young man. Always called me ‘Judy Blue Eyes.’ Like from Crosby, Stills and Nash.” Cammie kind of blushed.
“Everyone liked Trey. And, yes, it was rough.” Dani nodded. “Thanks.”
“Seems kind of hard to believe. Happening where it did. That far downstream. Some people are saying it must have happened up around the Falls, and the current took him down. It sure seemed he knew what he was doing.”
“He did know what he was doing, Cammie,” Dani said. “That’s why I’d like to take a look at that film.”
The ranger’s eyes widened a bit, as she got the sense of what Dani was asking. “Everything I heard said it was just a crazy accident. Even the state parks team was here.”
Dani shrugged. “Look, I know this may not be one hundred percent by the book …”
“I’m not so concerned about by the book …” Cammie said. “It’s just that, it’s not here. It’s been handed over.”
“Handed over? Handed over to whom?” Dani said in surprise. “The Parks Service?” If everyone was so sure this whole thing was nothing but an accident, why would it dawn on them to take the film?
“Not the Parks Service. It was Chief Dunn who came and took it. Day after it took place.”
“Chief Dunn?” Wade? Wade had it all along. All the while he was saying this was just an accident. Cut and dried …
He was either hiding something from her, or he believed it, too.
“But we take ’em when people leave here, too.” Cammie pointed to another camera, this one facing the exit gate. “And he didn’t ask for that one. It’s all digital these days. Fine with me if you want to come in and take a look.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#ulink_79e0713e-7dbc-5397-885b-8b4378dbb91e)
He had it. The realization twisted inside Dani. Wade had it when she went into his office yesterday. When he made that big scene about her overreaching and butting out. It meant either that he suspected she was right—that Trey’s death was suspicious, and then Ron’s, too. Or worse, that he was protecting something.
He’d had it all along. Before she even found the helmet.
Which, after what Dani and Cammie saw was on it, also meant he knew …
There was a meeting under way at the police station. Another officer Dani didn’t recognize was manning the front, and Dani went right past him, the officer going, “Wait! Hold on. You can’t—” And she pushed open the door and barged straight into the chief’s office.
Wade was at the head of the small conference table with his one and only detective and another officer around it.
“You took it.” Dani glared at him.
“What?”
The two others at the table looked up in surprise.
“The camera roll from the ranger station at the river. On the morning Trey died.”
Wade’s face grew heated. “Dani, I’m gonna ask you to step out now, if you please …”
“Cammie said you came and got it two days ago. So you knew. You knew all along it wasn’t an accident. You knew there was someone out there even before I brought in the helmet yesterday.”
The air hung like lead. Wade put down his pen and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for my stepdaughter’s outburst here. You all mind giving us five minutes and we’ll reconvene.”
The two of them left with a series of eye rolls and awkward glances that Dani knew would be around the station in two minutes. She realized this time she’d gone too far. She couldn’t help it. Wade had led her on. When the door finally shut behind them, he turned back and glared at her. “That’s my staff you just embarrassed me in front of. You do that again, and I don’t care if you’re my stepdaughter or not, so help me I’ll …”
“I’m sorry. I was out of line. But, Wade, you’ve had it all along. You let me go through that whole thing about Trey and Rooster and the helmet and the path I found … You know who it was, too. Who was out there that morning? Whose tire tracks I saw.”
“First of all,” Wade said, coming around the table, “it’s my job to look at anything that might—”
“That’s a load of bull, Wade. You told me Rooster was crazy. There’d be no reason to even request that film if it was all just an accident like you said. Unless you suspected there was something suspicious that went on out there. At least I’m damn well hoping that’s the reason for it.”
Wade leaned his hands against the table. “And what other reason might there be?”
“I don’t know. That you’re hiding something.” Dani didn’t back down. “That there was something on it you didn’t want anyone to see.”
Wade’s eyes took on a hardened expression, a space between hurt and outright anger. “That’s a mighty strong accusation, Dani, coming from someone who I’ve only been a friend to in life.”
“So convince me it isn’t, Wade. Who else has seen it? Who else did you show it to, if this was some kind of big investigation? I’m sorry if I don’t exactly believe you, but there’s a lot of recent history between us that doesn’t exactly rule that out.”
He swept his arm in anger, the papers on his table flying onto the floor. “I don’t have to convince you, Danielle. I’m the goddamn chief of police here! And whether there’s something there or not, that’s my role to determine, not yours. Just let me do my job!”
“Well, then do it!” Dani’s eyes lit up with accusation. “But next time you might want to requisition the exit tape as well. They keep it, Wade—just so there’s a record in case people get lost or stranded in the park. So they know exactly who’s still in there.”
Wade’s mouth opened a bit, and he stood there, as if he’d had a gun drawn on him.
Dani opened the manila envelope she had with her and removed the black-and-white photo. The one she made after she and Cammie looked at the film. She put it on his desk.
It was of a white Jeep Cherokee. Colorado plates. D69-416. “He came in at seven-oh-nine that morning. Just after Trey. And he left forty minutes later. Forty minutes, Wade! Just enough time for him to set up and do whatever he came to do and for Trey to take his first run.”
Wade’s fists dug into the table so hard Dani thought it was going to collapse. “You don’t know what you’re stepping into, girl …”
“This is him, Wade!” Dani jabbed her index finger onto the photo of the car. “That’s who killed Trey. And if you don’t act on this, so help me, I’ll take it to the Aspen Times or to Dave Warrick or anyone else who will listen to me and makes sure it’s in the hands of someone who will. You don’t have six deaths here to worry about here, Wade—you have six murders.” She pressed her finger on the photo again, right on the plate. “And here’s your murderer!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#ulink_73dd67b3-e6b5-5f1d-bd65-057655b26f61)
“I want you out of town,” Wade said, his jaw twitching, his chest heating up with frustration and anger, everything about him suddenly different.
This whole thing had hit a whole new level of seriousness for him now. A combination of being threatened by this crazy girl and the fear of what might happen to her (or him!) if she continued on. His conversation on the phone last night had made it clear. I’ll handle it, he’d promised them. I’ll make it go away.
He knew he’d better damn well deliver.
“You’re not taking this anywhere.” He pulled the photo back to his side of the table and crumpled it into a ball.
“You think I’d be dumb enough to put my only one down in front of you.” Dani leered at him. “I have more.”
“Then I’m telling you, as the head of this investigation and as someone who cares about you, Dani, I want them all handed over now.” He reached across and grabbed the envelope out of her hands. “You’re going to get out of this town for a while and let me do what I’m paid to do. In the meantime”—he took her roughly by the arm—“you’re coming with me.”
“What do you mean, I’m coming with you?” She tried to pull herself away. He clamped on tighter. “Wade, you’re hurting me!”
He dragged her into the station house and then through a door in the back where they had four holding cells.
“Are you crazy …?” Dani glared at him, trying to writhe out of his grip. “Get your hands off me, Wade! You’re doing what—throwing me in jail? This is insane. You can’t stop me from talking to people. You’re sitting on something. Just like you did with Mom.”
“I’m putting you somewhere where I can make sure you’re not interfering with my investigation until your father comes, or whomever the hell else I can get to talk some sense in you and take you out of here. Trust me, it’s for your own good.”
“My father? On what charge?” she demanded.
“I don’t know what charge! Obstructing an official investigation. Illegally obtaining government property. On the charge that it’s for your own damn good, Dani. Whatever I can think of that holds you here for a couple of days.”
“Are you nuts? Wade, please, how long do you think that’ll last?”
“As long as it takes to call your dad and get him to come out here.” He pulled her into the area where there were four holding cells. None of them were occupied.
“I’m not gonna stay here, Wade.”
“You damn well are going to stay here! You’re over your head here, Dani, and I’m doing this to protect you, not hurt you. Whether you know it or not.”
“Protect me?” He pushed her in an open cell and closed it with a clang behind her.
“Yes, protect you, Danielle,” Wade said, breathing heavily now.
“You’re making a mistake here, Wade. Not about me, but about Trey. And Rooster. And whoever that car belongs to.”
“Maybe so.” Wade walked away and hung the key on the wall. “But I’ve made ’em before. Sooner or later, one’s bound to catch up to me.”
ADRIFT (#ulink_7b17e98c-9959-5830-b4e7-3be84ee0a717)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#ulink_370c8eaf-4a89-5bdb-9dab-bc4854af14d1)
It had been too long.
The muscles were getting weak, the stomach a little flabby. A month back, long about Frenchman’s Cay, he’d stopped doing his morning crunches. The urge to find himself again, to get back into something, the next chapter, grew more and more restless inside him. He kept asking himself, what was next? To go back to his old job? To Talon, the global security company he was a partner in? He’d taken a month leave to nurse his wounds and bring himself back to life and just extended it kind of indefinitely. Now the wounds had healed; the dime-sized holes where the bullets had found him were now just scar tissue, mostly hidden by the tan. But what do you do when you’ve brought down a worldwide financial conspiracy whose reach led to the doorstep of the president’s own cabinet? Become a talking head on the TV news shows? Go on the speakers’ circuit? Just sail? These past two months, he couldn’t answer that question.
The first month, he didn’t even bring it to mind.
The month Naomi had joined him.
Hauck gazed out in his trunks and shades at the exquisite turquoise sea, white waves lapping gently onto the shore, from the tiny cove he was moored in with no other boat in sight, and didn’t care that there was no breeze.
That first month they just drifted. He didn’t want money or fame. He’d just wanted to help people. That’s why he became a cop in the first place, right? After the death of his youngest daughter. That’s how he put the pieces together back then. How he made his amends. But there were never enough amends. So he just sailed. Until it found him. He knew one day it would.
The day this came down:
“Ty, I’m not sure where this email finds you. But I need your help …”
He had spent the past two months on a thirty-eight-foot skiff he’d rented in Tortola, bonefishing and just sailing around, letting his beard grow out. After he and Naomi Blum exposed the Gstaad Group and helped bring down the secretary of the Treasury, Thomas Keaton, who’d conspired to mastermind the series of events that brought on the worldwide financial meltdown. He just couldn’t take a slap on the back for a job well done and a bonus check, and go back to his desk in Greenwich, Connecticut. Even the high-profile job that it was, handling corporate and governmental security issues with global connections. He couldn’t just sit in a larger office, gladhanding prospective clients, using his newfound notoriety to land new business like some ex-home-run hitter at a baseball card show. The money didn’t mean much to him, either, a guy who always figured he’d retire on a detective’s pension.
The first three weeks, Naomi was with him. From her small office at the Office of Financial Terrorism at the Treasury Department in Washington, D.C., they followed the trail of Hauck’s friend April Glassman’s murder all the way to the top of Naomi’s very department, to the president’s right-hand man. And once the dust settled and the headlines stopped, the wounds healed, they sailed for a month from isle to isle. They let the boat just drift in the open sea and made love on the deck, on the forestairs, under the stars, whenever the urge hit, and wherever it took them. They pulled into small, festive ports and ate spiny lobsters or tilefish on the beach and danced to reggae bands in thatched-roofed bars, full of Red Stripe beer and Pyrat Rum.
Sometimes they would just sit on deck and watch the sunset, or the sunrise. And wonder why real life had to be any different.
Then she went back to D.C. Now, head of the Financial Terrorism office.
And he just continued to drift. What was next? What had meaning to him? She would send him texts; some cute, recalling their time together. Some sexy. She would refer to his scars and the many times he’d been shot. He’d write back that he loved to play the five chords from the opening of Philip Glass’s Music in the Shape of a Square that were tattooed on her butt. The result of a Princeton degree in musicology, before she went into the Marines.
Now he thought of her diving naked into the turquoise sea or dancing in cutoff jeans and a bikini top. He had the time of his life with her. Free. Neither wanted any attachments. She was a rising star with the world in front of her. He … he’d been around a bit longer and had cheated death more than one time.
Then the texts grew shorter and less frequent. She got involved in new cases. Told him to come back. And still he drifted. He’d received a ton of emails from people who wanted to meet with him. From Tom Foley, the CEO of Talon: When are you coming back? From his daughter, Jessie. Now sixteen: How long will u b down there, Dad? Have you gone mental??? Now he only checked his email once a week. He stopped doing his push-ups and crunches. His beard got thicker. If it was another month, then it would be another month. He just fished and sailed.
And then this message came.
Ted Whalen was his roommate at Bates College, where they both played football. Hauck was a running back, set all kinds of school records; records long broken. Ted was a tight end who mostly blocked and rarely caught a pass. The two of them, along with Ted’s pretty girlfriend, Judy, were fixtures there. Eventually they married. Ted went on to become a successful orthopedic surgeon. At first out in Colorado, interning at some famous clinic out there. Then after their marriage fell apart, at Brigham and Women’s back in Boston.
The message said that his daughter Danielle had gotten into a bit of trouble in Colorado, where she was living. Hauck was Danielle’s godfather. He remembered the day she was born, though truth was, he hadn’t seen her in years. He had gotten word a few years back that Judy had died out west. Complications from cancer. The last, sad punctuation point stamped on his college career.
Ted wrote: “I’m in Chile on a teaching sabbatical, otherwise I’d be on a plane myself. But from what I hear this might be more in your field of expertise than mine. Please go, Ty, if you can. I think it’s urgent.”
The last time he saw Danielle she was doing snowboard tricks at Mad River Glen in Vermont, where she and her dad visited one year. She was maybe thirteen. He’d promised Ted and Judy he would always be there for her, should anything ever happen. And that was before Judy got sick. Then they all drifted apart.
He wrote him back. “I’m on my way.” He didn’t even ask for a reason. The mountains would be a welcome change, maybe help him figure it out. Plus he owed them; owed him. Once a Bobcat, always a Bobcat, right?
He had made a vow.
Anyway, he was ready. Hauck looked out at the lit-up, purple horizon. Another gorgeous sunset. His last. He felt the old flicker in his blood start up, like an old engine coming to life. That spark he always felt on the job when he suddenly saw the mosaic of something larger than what the facts showed start to come together; when through the fog of misdirection and cover-up he saw with total clarity where a case was leading. That second sense. His muscles ached; but suddenly they felt ready. He put down his Red Stripe and stretched out on the deck. He started doing crunches. One, two, three …
He stopped at a hundred. Then he went downstairs and looked at himself in the mirror and took out his razor.
It had been too long.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#ulink_7c19f4f7-95b9-527b-9f34-7f6e5c754ec0)
The following morning, Hauck left his boat at a marina he knew on St. Kitts, caught an eight-seater prop for the half-hour jaunt over to St. Maarten, where he was the last one on the 11:30 A.M. to Miami, which connected late that afternoon to a United flight to Denver. He spent the night at the Aloft hotel near the airport, and by six the next morning, he’d rented a car and was on his way up Interstate 70 to Aspen.
He’d been out here a couple of times years before to ski. Once, back in college, where he and four friends crowded into a classmate’s family’s two-bedroom condo at Copper Mountain. Hauck’s folks were working-class people, and at Bates he worked a twenty-hour-a-week job on top of studying and football. Back then, he couldn’t have even afforded a cheeseburger in Aspen, never mind a place to stay or even the lift tickets. He remembered how beautiful the ride up was: the new airport cutting around Denver, passing Golden, where he always wanted to stop off and see the Coors brewery, then into the foothills with the old mining towns of Idaho Springs and Georgetown, their steep canyons and buffalo herd patches until he reached Loveland Pass at twelve thousand feet. Patches of snow were still visible as he emerged from the Eisenhower Tunnel.
He made it to Carbondale in just under three hours. Ted had said to talk to the chief of police there. A guy named Dunn. It was a small town in the shadow of a massive, lone mountain with outdoor shops and a ski-chalet-like Safeway on a quaint, main street. He’d put the location of the police station into his GPS, but after twenty years in law enforcement he didn’t need a satellite to help him sniff out a station. His nose led him right to the parking lot filled with parked green-and-white SUVs with CARBONDALE POLICE on them, outside a one-story, redbrick building attached to the Carbondale Town Center. He parked in a spot reserved for visitors.
Hauck’s beard was down to a growth, and in his floral Hawaiian shirt, jeans, and sunglasses, he didn’t exactly look official.
Inside, he went up to a female officer in a khaki uniform behind a glass partition, her hair in two long braids. She smiled pleasantly at him.
Hauck folded his shades into his shirt pocket. “Chief Dunn around?”
“He’s on the phone. I know he’s got to head into Aspen for a meeting there shortly after. Anything I can help you with?”
“I’m looking for a Danielle Whalen. I hear she’s a guest at the spa here.”
“The spa?” The officer looked up at him with a laugh. “You her lawyer?”
“Do I look like a lawyer?”
She laughed again. “Some of the lawyers here, why not? Hell, in this town you could be the mayor. Why don’t you take a seat; I’ll see if the chief is off. I know he was expecting someone. What did you say your name was?”
He gave her his card. “Ty Hauck.”
She got up and went to the back of the station past a couple of compartmentalized workstations. Hauck didn’t see any detectives. It was a small department. She knocked on the door of a glass-lined office with drapes restricting the view and poked her head in. A minute later she came back. “Dani’s a nice kid, but it’ll be a boon to all of us, the sooner you get her out. You can go on back.”
“Thanks, Officer.” He smiled.
He went back to the glassed-in office and knocked on the door that was left ajar. A stocky, middle-aged man in a uniform top over jeans stood up from behind his heavy wood desk.
“Come on in. Wade Dunn,” he said as he held out his hand. Despite the salt-and-pepper flattop, he looked no more than sixty, with a round face, a flabby jawline, a reddish complexion. He had an ornate belt on his jeans. His hands were thick, his grip was firm, authoritative, with a large turquoise ring. “Officer Jurgens said you were here about Dani …”
“Dani …?”
“Danielle. Sorry.” He motioned Hauck to a burled wood conference table. “I thought Ted might have mentioned I was married to her mother for a while.”
“No, he didn’t tell me that,” Hauck said, surprised. “He just said to look you up. I knew Judy a bit myself, back in college. In a way, I guess that makes us all kind of related.”
“How’s that?” The police chief crossed his legs. Hauck’s eyes went to the fancy python-skin boots.
“I’m her godfather.”
“Well, I’ll be damned! I guess that does make us all something.” The chief seemed pleasantly surprised. “Hell, I didn’t know she even had a godfather. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Or a soft drink maybe?”
“Nothing.” Hauck waved politely. “I’m fine.”
“So where’d you come in from, Mr. Hauck?” The duty officer had given him Hauck’s card. “Says Greenwich here. But you look kind of relaxed. L.A., maybe. You look kind of L.A., if you don’t mind me saying.”
“The Caribbean, actually. I was on a boat yesterday morning when Ted got in touch with me.”
“Caribbean?” Chief Dunn’s eyes widened. “Well, I have to say, you certainly do take the godfather role pretty seriously.”
Hauck smiled back. “Ted and I go back a long way. He said Dani was in some kind of trouble. There was no breeze. Here I am. So is she …?”
“Is she what?”
“In some kind of trouble.”
“Ty Hauck …” The chief leaned back and crossed his legs, and looked at Hauck’s card. He narrowed his gaze back on Hauck. “Jeez, I know who you are. I saw you on CNN or something. You’re the guy who was part of that investigation that led to that Treasury secretary’s arrest.”
“Thomas Keaton.” Hauck filled in the blank for him. “But I was only the one who got shot up a bit. Others did most of the work.”
“Not from what I heard. You look a little different,” the chief said, drawing a hand across his chin, “maybe because of the …”
“Midlife crisis,” Hauck said, referring to the growth.
“Well, I sure as hell know a lot about those.” Wade Dunn laughed. “Though mine landed me in this job. I used to run the force over in Aspen. Well, how about that, Dani has a celebrity godfather. So you knew her dad?”
“Ted and I went to college together. Back east.”
“Only met him a couple of times,” the chief said. “You’re one helluva friend to have, Mr. Hauck, if you don’t mind me saying. To drop everything and come out here.”
“So what’s Danielle done? I understand that she’s being kept here. Ted wasn’t quite clear.”
“It’s a bit hard to explain exactly what she’s done. Nothing really, when it comes to the law, except make my life a living hell. Professionally speaking. Personally, I like the gal. Practically raised her. But I guess you could say it’s sort of for her own good, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Look.” Dunn let his chair come back up. “We’ve had kind of some misfortune in the valley in the past week. Two things …” He told Hauck about the tragic, but likely unrelated, accidents. Dani’s friend, Trey, on the river, and the hot-air balloon that caught on fire in the air.
“That’s terrible …” Hauck winced. “How many were aboard?”
“Five.” Dunn shook his head. “Including the pilot. Who Dani claims wanted to tell her something about the rafting accident before his balloon went down.”
“What was that?’
The chief shrugged. “Claims he saw something on the river, but she never got to hear. The guy was a bit of a lone steer to me, if you know what I mean. Not all there. But Dani seems to think it was important. Look, these two events would be terrible for any community to undergo …” The chief lit up a cigarette. “Hope you don’t mind if I smoke, Mr. Hauck. Only real vice I have left,” the chief said. “The rest have all been legislated out …” Hauck nodded for him to go ahead. “But for us, here … Aspen may seem like a big, worldly place, Mr. Hauck, with all the glitzy stars and private jets, but truth is, this whole valley is just three small Colorado towns. Everyone knows everyone else. I know Dani was close to that young man who was killed on the river. Seems she’s gotten it in her head that these two terrible accidents weren’t exactly that.”
Hauck cocked his head. “Not sure I’m following you. Weren’t exactly what?” he asked.
“Accidents,” the chief said, taking a drag. “Worse, that they’re both somehow connected.”
“What do you mean by ‘worse’?”
The chief seemed to be taking a read on Hauck, his granite gray eyes settling on his. “Look, we’re both law enforcement professionals here … I may not have had the headlines you have on your résumé, and this is kind of a sleepy job now, but up in Aspen as you can imagine, I’ve seen a lot in close to thirty years …”
“I’m not sure I’m following.”
“What I’m saying, sir, is we turned over both of those incidents from hell and back—there’s been a state parks investigator on the river and a national safety team all over every part of that balloon, or what was left of it. And so far there’s not a stitch of evidence that says there’s been any foul play.”
“But Danielle is convinced that there is?”
“Dani’s like a mule. She gets on something and … You said you knew her mother?”
“For many years. I was the best man at their wedding.”
“You don’t say … Bowdoin, right …?’”
“Bates. Nearby, though. It’s—”
“I actually know where it is … I took Dani on her college trips when Judy took sick. I think she applied there, too. Could’ve gotten in anywhere she applied. She always had the quickest brain I knew. Maybe too quick for her own good. But there’s another part of her. That’s kind of her enemy. We all have those parts of us, don’t you agree? If you knew her mom, then you know what I’m talking about, Mr. Hauck.”
“Might as well call me Ty. If we’re related.”
Chief Dunn laughed. “Ty it is then … and I’m Wade. But what I’m saying is, that woman never once let anything stop her or get in her way if she had her mind set on it. Hell, I ought to know, I was married to her for eight years. Except the cancer, maybe.” Wade shrugged. “That stopped her. Cold. And Danielle …” He shook his head wistfully and ran a hand across his hair. “Well, she’s got her father’s smarts and her mother’s temperament. And I guess it’s worth saying, she’s never been the keenest fan of me.”
“And why’s that?” Hauck asked him.
“’Cause I was there. When her mom died. And best to say maybe I wasn’t the most caring person to have around at that time of my life, going through some weak moments of my own …”
“I hear you,” Hauck said. “I was sorry to hear what happened.”
“Years ago now. But anyway, Dani’s stirring up some wild accusations. Threatening to take what she found to the press, or to the police chief in Aspen. That’s just not helpful now. It’s not the way we do things here. I thought it would be better if we just took her out of the picture for a day or two, while the investigators were here. If you know what I mean?”
“You put her in jail?”
The chief shrugged. “We were fully vacant. The rooms were there.”
“They still around?”
“Who?” the chief asked.
“The investigating teams.”
Dunn shook his head. “Nope.”
“I think I get the picture. Ted only said she was in some kind of trouble. Can I see her?”
“See her? You can take her if you want, be my guest. We’re all hoping you will. Hell, for such a pretty thing, she eats more than I can afford anyway … You can see, we’re only a small department.”
Hauck stood up.
The chief stood up, too. “Try and talk some sense into her, would you? No one gains by her stirring things up like she was. Maybe let her show you the state for a few days. Until this all quiets down. I don’t know how long you have, but it’s beautiful country out here. Sorry to drag you off your boat, Mr. Hauck. For such a mundane reason. Can’t say I’d be a happy camper if it were me.”
“Show me the way. I’ll see what I can do.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#ulink_742f4165-e4bb-5bd9-9e07-94a8193f3374)
Hauck went inside the small cell block, down to the last of four manually locked cells. The only one that was occupied.
Danielle was on her back on the cot, in jeans and a T-shirt, one leg resting over a knee. She didn’t even look up at him. He could see right away that she wasn’t at all what he remembered. The wiry, athletic tomboy had grown up into a pretty, filled-out, young gal.
“Whoever you are, I want to see Wade. You can’t keep me locked up in here forever. I’ll call a lawyer. I’ve got a job and you’re keeping me from doing it. I have a dog that needs attention. And I’m sick of eating just Subway and Burger King. And I want a shower. And—”
“Calm down, and you might just get what you want,” Hauck said, stepping up to the cell.
She rolled her head, her soft blue eyes narrowing in on him. Then she jumped off the cot and stared at him, totally disbelieving. “Uncle Ty …?”
“I’m not really a big fan of Subway and Burger King myself,” he said. “Must be somewhere out here we can find some good Mexican food.”
Her eyes doubled in size. “Uncle Ty! What the hell are you doing here …?”
“Not surprisingly, your father sent me.”
“Dad …?”
It had been years, ten maybe, and Hauck took in the sight. Dani was now a pretty young woman. She was wearing a gray T-shirt that read, What happens on the river, stays on the river,
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Andrew Gross
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Триллеры
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: The heart-pounding new thriller from the co-author of five No. 1 James Patterson bestsellers including Judge and Jury and Lifeguard, and the Sunday Times bestsellers The Blue Zone and Reckless.Leading a tour down the rapids outside Aspen, Colorado, whitewater guide Dani Haller comes across the body of a close friend. Refusing to believe it was an accident, Dani uncovers evidence that backs up her suspicions and takes her case to Wade Dunn, local police chief and her ex-stepfather.Wade insists the case is closed but Rooster, a hot-air balloon operator, claims he saw something that Dani needs to know. Before she can find out, however, Rooster plunges to his death in a fiery crash. Dani threatens to go public with her evidence, and finds herself thrown in jail.When ex-detective Ty Hauck receives word that his god-daughter is in trouble, he immediately jumps to her aid. Together he and Dani step foot into a sinister scheme running deep beneath the surface of a quiet, Colorado town that has made a deal with devil to survive.