Defiled: The Sequel to Nailed Featuring John Tall Wolf (A Ron Ketchum Mystery Book 2) (33 page)

He looked at Tall Wolf and said, “I had —”

“A silent partner,” Tall Wolf told him.

Burkett smiled and said, “Right.”

Then he stepped over the side and splashed into the water at the deepest point of Lake Adeline.

Deputy Chief Gosden was about to dive in after him when John Tall Wolf fired a shot inches above his head. In a flinch reaction, Oliver dropped to the deck of his boat. A moment later, his head popped up with murder in his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” he demanded of Tall Wolf.

Ron and Keely wanted to know the same thing.

“You’d never have come back up,” Tall Wolf said. “Look, he’s already gone.”

All the local cops peered over their rails.

The special agent was right.

As crystalline as Lake Adeline was, Jacob Burkett had already sunk out of sight.

“There’s still work to do,” Tall Wolf reminded everyone.

The time bomb Burkett had left behind was counting down.

Ron Ketchum and John Tall Wolf stepped into the boat Jake Burkett had just abandoned. The chief looked at Keely, Oliver, Officers Dennehy and Cardozo and said, “Get the hell out of here. We’ll call you when we need you.”

Tall Wolf told Ron, “You can go, too. This is a one-man job.”

The timer hit one minute and continued to bleed seconds.

“I’m staying,” Ron said.

Tall Wolf shrugged and set to work.

“Leave, I said!” Ron shouted to the others.

None of them obeyed. The mutiny was complete.

Before any further attempt to exert authority could be made, everyone heard Tall Wolf say, “Well, hell.”

They all saw the cause for his dismay.

The timer was no longer counting down, it was racing toward zero.

Distinct numbers had become a flickering blur.

In an attempt to throw the damn thing overboard, Ron and Tall Wolf both got their hands on the bomb, banged their heads together and dropped it.

Slapstick about to yield to tragedy.

Only that wasn’t what Burkett had in mind.

Arriving at what they thought would be the moment of detonation, the top of the small metal cube popped open and a jack-in-the-box clown shot up. Scaring the hell out of all of them. As the chief regained his breath, he saw the clown was holding a neatly printed card.

Boom, you’re dead!

Ron said, “Very fucking fun—”

Tall Wolf grabbed the box, flung it as far as he could and jumped atop Ron, yelling, “Everybody down!”

The explosion came seconds later. The shock wave rocked all three nearby boats. Keely had to grab the steering wheel of the mayor’s craft to remain aboard. The three cops on the lake patrol boat all found secure handholds. John Tall Wolf was launched into the air.

He didn’t know how high he flew, but when he looked down he could see nothing but clear, cold water below him. He knew from his dream what would happen when he splashed down. He’d join Burkett in that long, terminal descent.

Just when he thought he was lost, a hand with a grip like iron caught his left wrist. He went into the water, but his head didn’t go under. His fate still hung in the balance, though. He felt as if a malign force was
pulling
him down, refusing to yield a prize it thought to be its own. Then another strong hand went around his other wrist.

He looked up and saw Ron Ketchum had hold of him. His face was red and he was straining with effort. Tall Wolf did his best to kick free of the fate that sought to claim him. With one final effort, he raised his right leg and then stomped down as if crushing the face of a fallen enemy.

He shot out of the water and back into the boat.

The special agent and the chief lay next to each other, panting.

“Damn, you’re heavy,” Ron said.

Tall Wolf told him, “I’ve got a lot of baggage.”

Back at police headquarters, Tall Wolf took a hot shower and changed into a set of Goldstrike PD sweat clothes. Special Agent Benjamin and every cop on hand gathered to listen to what happened on Lake Adeline.

“How’d you know?” Ron asked Tall Wolf. “How’d you know the bomb was real?”

“I saw the little card and thought, ‘What if the SOB’s not joking?’ I didn’t want to take the chance so I threw the damn thing as far as I could.”

Ron shook his head, “With the possible exception of Special Agent Benjamin, you are the smartest cop in the room.”

Tall Wolf laughed. “You ask me, none of us is too smart. We should have dumped the bomb in the lake first thing, and all got the hell out of there.”

Deputy Chief Gosden added, “You were also the only cop dumb enough, besides me, not to be wearing a life vest.”

“Couldn’t find one big enough,” Tall Wolf said.

The memorial service for Walt Ketchum was held in Goldstrike, a mountain town not easily accessible to spur of the moment travelers. Nonetheless, Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church was filled to capacity. At Walt’s request, the Reverend James Leverette, formerly known as the televangelist Jimmy Thunder, led the service.

Cops from across the state and around the country found ways to reach the Sierra Nevada resort community on short notice. Ron Ketchum, in dress uniform, and Keely Powell, in a demure black dress, sat in the front pew. With them were John Tall Wolf, Abra Benjamin and Esther Gadwell. Sergeant Casimir Stanley and Marjorie Fitzroy made sure everything came off without a hitch.

Walt’s flag-draped casket was the center of attention.

Clay Steadman was the last mourner to arrive.

He touched Walt’s casket and sat next to Esther Gadwell.

Reverend Leverette ascended to the pulpit.

He looked out at the gathering and said, “I’m told that Walter Ketchum was one mean sonofabitch. But as he approached his inevitable meeting with his maker, he came to a better understanding of what is important and what means little. In this way, Walter Ketchum was truly my brother. For in the end, all we have is each other, and all of us depend on one another for survival in this world and salvation in the next …”

They’d all arrived at Saint Mark’s before the church got crowded: Ron, Keely, Tall Wolf and Benjamin. Having had the night to think things over, Ron had come to a conclusion. He was probably the last one to have the light bulb go on, but he was the first one to bring it up.

“There’s no way Jake Burkett painted arrows in blood that pointed his way.”

The others all bobbed their heads.

They
had
thought of that, too.

But they weren’t inclined to intrude on Ron’s surmise.

So he continued, “And no way would a guy who was slick enough to build those bombs be dumb enough to leave blood in his freezer.”

They all shook their heads.

“Now, we have Veronika Novak identifying Helios Sideris as the man she saw leaving Hale Tibbot’s house on the night he was killed. And we found a large nugget of gold in a safe-deposit box he rented. So we have the killer and we know how he was paid, right?”

Keely could take the dumb-show only so far.

So she said, “Yeah, we know all that, and we know Sideris has vanished. So we can make a reasonable guess he wanted more gold and likely got lead instead.”

“That and a watery grave,” Benjamin added.

“Probably about the same spot Burkett ended it all,” Tall Wolf said.

“Okay, we’re agreed on all that,” Ron said, “but why do the charade with the first bomb? Why not just kill Tibbot? With him out of the way, Burkett was going to win his suit, right? Get the land he wanted. And with Tibbot dead, Burkett didn’t have to worry about industrial-scale exploitation of the gold deposit destroying the area’s natural beauty.”

Tall Wolf suggested, “Maybe Burkett was warning himself about the dangers of getting greedy as much as he was warning anyone else.

Benjamin added, “And maybe Tibbot’s estate might continue the legal fight.”

Ron said, “Huh. Hadn’t thought of either of those things. Does anybody know if Tibbot’s estate means to continue the court battle?”

Nobody did, but Tall Wolf thought if anyone was going to fight Marlene and her big-money backers now, good luck with that.

“Well,” the chief said, “Even with a loose end or two dangling, I guess we should still call it a win.”

“There’s one more thing,” Tall Wolf said.

“What’s that?” Benjamin asked.

“Burkett did find the lost gold. He said he took plenty of it; he used that great big nugget to pay Sideris. I have to think he did that so he wouldn’t leave any paper trail when he hired a killer. But he did
not
use the gold to make his bid on the property he wanted. So what did he do the rest of his haul? There wasn’t any gold at his house.”

Ron said, “He hid it. God knows where.”

Keely smiled, nudged Ron. “Your town’s got another legend in the making.”

Ron followed Reverend Leverette into the pulpit.

“My name is Ronald Ketchum and, according to the way my lawyer described me in court, I’m a recovering bigot.”

More than a few faces in the gathering smiled knowingly.

Everyone had his or her failings. Some were honest enough to admit them.

Some were even strong enough to overcome them.

“I was angry with my father for most of my life. Wanted nothing to do with him. Shunned him for years. But when the time came that I needed help only he could provide, he stood up for me. Did so at a cost that would have humiliated most people, kept them hiding in the shadows. But he stood up in front of the world, swore an oath and said my failings were his responsibility.

“Don’t blame me, my dad said, blame him.”

Ron shook his head.

“I don’t know that I’ll ever have a child; it’s getting pretty late in the day. But I imagine myself as the kind of man my father proved to be in the last years of his life, and I’ll live my life accordingly. I have an example to guide me now. I wish reconciliation had come earlier, but I’ll always be grateful for the time I had with my father here in Goldstrike.

“And I know this, if someone who was Texas mean like my dad can find redemption, and I believe he has, then there’s hope for the rest of us, too.

“I’ll miss you, Dad. I’m glad that I finally learned to love you.”

Ron, Sergeant Stanley, Walt’s old partner, Paul Martin, and three other cops bore Walt’s casket to the hearse. His remains would be taken to the crematorium. Ron would have an urn with his ashes in them the following day.

The chief said goodbye to Special Agent Benjamin. She shook his hand. Then she surprised the hell out of Keely by kissing her on the cheek and saying, “That was really something, you staying out there with that bomb.”

She reminded Ron she’d be calling him in six months.

As Benjamin walked away, Keely said softly, “What was I supposed to do,
leave
you guys?”

Tall Wolf shook his head and said to Keely, “Not you.”

He shook her hand and did the same with Ron.

“Nice little town you’ve got here, Chief. I’ll have to come back to visit. When things are quiet.”

“Stay modest,” Keely told him.

When she and Ron had a moment to themselves, she asked him, “Why’s Benjamin going to call you?”

He told her about the special agent’s plan for her baby.

“She’s going to give it up for adoption? To solid citizens? Right here?”

“You’ve a fine mind for details, consulting detective.”

“I do, and I’m thinking you can’t find more solid citizens than a couple of honest cops.”

“Me either. Of course, by then, I might be the mayor. You know, a politician.”

Before Keely could respond, Ron said, “There’s the current mayor. I need a word with him.”

When the mood took him, Clay Steadman could walk through a crowd of fans without any of them daring to approach him. One look at his face told you to keep your distance. He was wearing that look when he was among the last to exit the church.

Ron approached him anyway.

Clay raised a hand and pointed. Like he was warning Ron off. But the chief wouldn’t let himself be deterred.

When he got close to the mayor, Clay said, “Look over there.”

Ron turned and saw a flatbed truck carrying an odd looking contraption.

The chief said, “Is that the —”

“The submersible you asked for is what it is,” Clay said. “It can dive thousands of feet deep into the ocean. A hop to the bottom of our lake is no big deal. You wanted to find that first detonator, remember?”

“I don’t think we need it now,” Ron said.

“No, but there’s at least one and maybe two bodies out there that need to be brought up. I don’t want anyone ever to think they can commit murder or suicide and dump their waste in Lake Adeline. I won’t have it defiled that way.”

Ron decided he wouldn’t either.

“When can we talk?” he asked the mayor.

“Later. I get tired a lot faster than I used to. Goddamnit.”

Clay Steadman was still up to answering his own door when Ron Ketchum arrived at his house that night. The two of them sat in the living room, drinks in hand, looking out the view window. Lake Adeline was the void in the distance. A few tiny houselights on the far shore shone in the night.

Ron was drinking sparkling water.

The mayor sipped Scotch.

He told Ron, “I’ve done some checking. You’ll be unopposed for mayor.”

“Ought to make campaigning easier.”

Clay offered his trademark razor thin smile.

“Make things easier the first time. After that, it’ll all depend on your record.”

“Burkett said something right before he jumped in the lake.”

“Yeah?”

“He said he had a silent partner in his land deal.”

“Not uncommon.”

“No. But Roger Sutherland told me you were the meanest person he ever worked with.”

“I tend to excel,” the mayor said.

“No doubt. But this afternoon I read the papers of the civil suit Jake Burkett filed against Hale Tibbot. The reason he gave for the suit was he had an agreement with the present owners to buy the land in question for two-hundred and fifty million dollars. They backed out when Tibbot topped that offer by another hundred million.”

“Highly unethical,” Clay said in a whisper.

He sipped his Scotch.

“It occurred to me,” Ron said, “that of all the wealthy people around here, you’re the only one I can think of who’d put up a quarter-billion dollars for that property. And if you and Jake Burkett thought Tibbot had screwed you, you’d both be plenty pissed off.”

“Reasonable assumption.”

“And you told me if you thought Tibbot might actually win the election for mayor, you could see having him killed.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“It turns out, even a quick check of your background shows you know all sorts of interesting people in Las Vegas.”

“There and many other places.”

“So what I came here to ask you is, were you Jake Burkett’s business partner?”

“I was.”

“And did you put Jake in touch with Helios Sideris?”

The mayor finished his drink and offered Ron one last smile.

“You know, given my current condition, I just can’t remember.”

The chief headed home, leaving the mayor alone.

No, that wasn’t right. Esther Gadwell was working for him now.

Ron hadn’t pushed Clay to see if he knew full well what he’d done.

Helped set up Hale Tibbot to be murdered.

The man didn’t need any distractions. He didn’t have a lot of time left.

And what time there was he needed to make a movie called “Texas Mean.”