Rain (David Wolf Book 11) Read online

  Lauren reached under the table and slid her fingers down his inner thigh. “That sounds like a plan to me.”

  Memories of his first date with Lauren hit him, when he’d accidentally spilled beer into his crotch and she’d helped him clean it up with an exploratory wad of paper towels.

  “What?”

  “Just thinking about us,” he said.

  She leaned her head on his shoulder again, and he sucked in a breath. When he exhaled the tension dissipated through his feet.

  They signed the check, went outside, and ran into Lauren’s nurse friend from the hospital.

  “Hey, there they are! Congrats, you two!” she said.

  “David, you remember Mary?”

  Wolf shook her hand, then her boyfriend’s.

  “So, two weeks off from catheters and bedpans,” Mary said. “How will you cope?”

  “I’ll have to sip some mai tais on the beach,” Lauren said.

  “Ah, I’m so jealous. Maui for ten days. Ah, you guys are going to have so much fun.”

  Lauren leaned into Wolf and put her hand in his back pocket.

  Mary took the hint. “Right. My goodness, I can’t wait to see you in that dress. You look this gorgeous now, you’re going to burn the place down in that thing. I’ll see you two in two days, okay?”

  “Oh.” Lauren looked at Mary’s date. “So you’re the plus-one.”

  “Uh, no. I’m not bringing a date to the wedding after all,” Mary said, her eyes widening a fraction.

  “Oh, okay. Well, have fun. See you guys.”

  They walked away while Mary and her insignificant other entered the pizza place.

  “Whoops,” Lauren said.

  “Put your foot in your mouth there.”

  When they reached Lauren’s Audi, Wolf climbed behind the wheel and found her leaning over the center console with a smoky look in her eyes.

  “What?”

  She reached over and unzipped his pants before he even had the door shut.

  He eyed the mirrors and the windows. There were at least five people walking within a few yards of the car—oblivious, for the time being, of the auburn-haired woman over his lap.

  He started the engine and put it in drive. Flashing lights reflected off the rearview, coming up Main Street fast. The faint sound of the siren bled through the SUV’s cab a moment later.

  “Hey, wait a second,” he said.

  She got up and looked out the rear window. “What?”

  They watched in silence as an SBCSD cruiser passed by, followed by an ambulance.

  Lauren put her fingers on his chin and turned his face toward her.

  The passing lights sparkled off her face. She leaned in and kissed him behind the ear, then lowered herself back to his crotch.

  Through the windshield, an older man on the sidewalk gawked and walked away.

  “We’re both off duty,” Lauren said, and busied herself again.

  “Right,” said Wolf, his voice cracking.

  As he let off the brake and eased forward down Main, his phone vibrated and chimed in his pocket.

  Lauren got up and sat back in her seat.

  He pulled over, put his manhood back in his pants, and pulled out the phone. “What?”

  “Hey.”

  He vaguely recalled seeing MacLean’s name on the screen before tapping it. “What’s up?”

  “I need you to come see something.”

  Lauren’s gaze was frozen out her window.

  “I can’t. I’m busy at the moment. Very, very busy. And I’m off duty for two weeks, remember?”

  “There was a car accident north of town. Two miles out on the left side.”

  “Yeah, I saw the ambulance.” The frustration evaporated and panic pulsed through his body. “Who was it?”

  “Come out here. You need to see this.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Kristen Luke.”

  “Kristen …”

  Lauren’s head turned partially but she kept her eyes on the window.

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine … relatively. Just get out here.”

  Chapter 10

  “It’s just so strange,” Lauren said. “She still shows up?”

  Wolf agreed. And he knew what she was thinking. Last month, the deadline for RSVP had come and gone and Luke had failed to acknowledge their invite.

  Lauren had told him, “She doesn’t want to see the love of her life getting married off to somebody else.” She’d said it in passing as she walked out of the kitchen and through the front door, and it had been like a drive-by punch in the nose. Wolf still remembered standing in numb shock as he processed a viewpoint that had never occurred to him.

  Now, Luke was in town. And it was a damn good question: Why?

  They rode in silence for the two-mile drive on 734 along the Chautauqua River until they came up on the flashing lights. Wolf parked well off the shoulder behind a state patrol car.

  “Do you want to stay here?”

  Lauren popped the door and got out.

  Wolf followed suit and zipped up his hooded sweatshirt as high as it would go. The cold air near the river bit through to the skin.

  Lauren let him go first, stepping close behind him down a gentle slope to a dirt turnoff alongside the road.

  The wrecked car was floodlit by one of the SBCSD vehicles. The center of the front bumper had connected with a thick oak tree at considerable speed.

  “Are they sure?” Lauren asked behind him. “That’s definitely not her car, is it?”

  “Doesn’t look like it,” he said.

  The car was an old beat-up Chevy sedan with Washington plates.

  The skid marks leading through the dirt told him the driver had slammed the brakes before impact, and the relatively small bend in the front frame said the collision speed was not as fast as he’d originally thought. Still, the windshield boasted a gleaming spider web where the driver’s head had connected.

  Sheriff MacLean was talking to another deputy near the vehicle and saw them coming. “Hey. Oh, hi, Lauren.” MacLean floundered between handshake and hug, and ended up patting her on the shoulder.

  “What’s going on?” Wolf asked. “This is definitely not Luke’s car.”

  “You’re right. This car was reported stolen two days ago from central Washington.”

  “And Luke was driving this?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re sure.”

  MacLean ran two fingers over his mustache, a tic that revealed his discomfort. “I wanted you to come down to the scene because I knew you’d want to see it tonight anyway. If you’d gone all the way south over the pass to County then you’d have had to drive all the way north back up here. I was saving you time.”

  Wolf eyed the wreckage again. “Okay.”

  “Luke is on her way to County with head trauma. She was driving. There were no other people in the car and by the looks of it she stole this vehicle. There you have it.”

  “Stolen from Seattle?”

  “No. Central Washington. We’re looking into it. We’ll have more within the hour.”

  MacLean held out a pair of rubber gloves and Wolf put them on.

  “Here.” MacLean gave him a flashlight.

  Wolf clicked it on and walked to the driver’s side door, which hung open on its hinges. The interior smelled vaguely like Luke’s shampoo but there was an overpowering scent of cigarette smoke baked into the upholstery.

  He bent down and passed the flashlight over the inside, lighting up the crevices the floodlight did not. Other than the glittering cracks in the glass above the steering wheel, and that it was a stolen car, nothing out of the ordinary stood out to him.

  “You check the trunk?”

  MacLean pulled it open. “Doesn’t stay open by itself.”

  Wolf walked to the rear and saw a pile of men’s clothing giving off the odor of dirty feet.

  “There something you want me to see in particular?” Wolf asked.<
br />
  MacLean shrugged. “Not really.”

  Wolf eyed Lauren. She had her arms folded across her chest, looking like the cold had gotten under her fleece and her wine buzz was long gone.

  Wolf handed back the flashlight and put an arm around her. “Ready?”

  “I’ll see you at the hospital,” MacLean said.

  “What did you see?” she asked as they walked away.

  “I don’t know.”

  “She stole the car and came down here?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Why?”

  Wolf nodded. “That’s the question.”

  Chapter 11

  Wolf tilted the coffee cup to his lips and through the steam watched the light descend the western face of the mountains to the rear of the Sluice–Byron County Hospital building.

  On this south side of Williams Pass, the valley was flatter with fewer trees. Carpets of sage gave off scented oils as the overnight frost melted on the leaves. Only when the valley floor curved gently to meet the western mountains did the pines take hold, with clumps of yellow aspens interspersed, now glowing like splatters of liquid gold in the sunlight.

  Above the treeline, the peak was frosted white, like powdered sugar dusting on a scone.

  Wolf sucked the final drops of coffee out of the cup, and spat some grinds onto the weeds.

  He zipped up his sweatshirt and walked back to the front of the building. The sun had poked up between the eastern peaks, pulling the temperature to a few degrees above freezing.

  The frost coating the eastern side of the valley reminded him of the kiss he’d received from Lauren before driving up to County.

  He couldn’t blame her for feeling shaken by Kristen Luke’s untimely arrival into town. Then again, Lauren hadn’t known the whole story last night.

  Wolf rounded the front corner of the hospital building and stepped onto the asphalt.

  “There you are!” a familiar voice called to him.

  Dr. Lorber, the Sluice–Byron County medical examiner and chief forensic consultant for the department stood waving a long arm in front of the automatic doors at the front entrance. The man stood tall and thin, like an NBA basketball center, and displayed his full reach as he yawned and stretched his arms overhead.

  “I just went upstairs and couldn’t find you.” Lorber clamped his branches for fingers around Wolf’s hand.

  “Did you talk to Yates?”

  “Dr. Capriati.”

  Wolf nodded.

  “He’s saying ligature marks on her wrists, gunshot bruise on her back, and a couple of clocks to the head that don’t match the auto accident.”

  “Other than the stolen car she was driving, you’re up to speed,” Wolf said.

  “Stolen car?” Lorber squinted behind his John Lennon-style glasses.

  “Yep.”

  Lorber fiddled with his ponytail. “She’s in the Seattle field office now, right?”

  “Snohomish County. Everett, just north of Seattle. I called them last night. They’re on their way down here.”

  “And what did they say?” Lorber asked.

  “Not much. Talked to her boss. He said they’d been looking for her and that we’d talk when he got here.”

  “What the heck is she doing driving a stolen car?”

  Wolf said nothing.

  “What’s that, twenty hours?”

  “One thousand two hundred miles. Eighteen and a half hours. I checked. But the car was stolen from the middle of the state. The drive probably took an hour or two less.”

  Lorber frowned and stretched again, his knuckles almost scraping the vaulted ceiling of the emergency drive-up portico.

  “I’m headed back inside,” Wolf said, and walked through the automatic front doors.

  “So what’s the plan?” Lorber loped next to him.

  They walked to the bank of elevators and pressed the up button. “Wait until she wakes up and talk to her. Wait for the Everett FO feds to show up and talk to them.”

  “What the hell was she doing down here in a stolen car?” Lorber asked again. “I mean, it makes sense that she’d arrive for your wedding in two days … but a stolen car?”

  The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and they stepped inside.

  “She never RSVP’d,” Wolf said.

  “She didn’t?”

  They rode the rest of the way in silence and got out on the third floor.

  Lorber took the lead, clipping through the waiting area and into a hallway. They rounded a corner and Yates came into view, asleep on a plastic chair along the wall.

  Lorber flicked him on the forehead on the way past.

  “The hell?”

  “Morning, starshine.”

  Yates wiped his lip. “Shit. Sorry, sir.”

  “It’s all right,” Wolf said. “You can head home. I know you’ve been on since yesterday afternoon.”

  Yates straightened, got his bearings and stood. “Thanks.”

  Lorber knocked twice on Luke’s door, then pushed it open and strode inside, Wolf following.

  Doctor Capriati stood near the bed, tapping on a tablet.

  “Come on in, Dr. Lorber,” he said without looking up.

  “Thanks, Doctor.”

  Lorber bent over Luke, rubbed a finger over one of her wrists, then the other. “Zip ties for sure.”

  The ME stood back and folded his arms, appraising Luke as if she were a used car. “What’s on her back?”

  “See for yourself.” Capriati produced a picture from a manila folder and handed it over.

  Wolf stepped close and looked. He’d yet to see this photo.

  Lorber whistled. “Yep. Definite gunshot.”

  The picture showed a circular red-wine-colored bruise with sharp edges on her right shoulder blade.

  “Looks about forty-eight-hours old,” Lorber said.

  Capriati made a sound of agreement and took the photo back.

  Lorber pointed a finger inches from her face. “Looks like a fully formed bruise. Same time frame as the gunshot.”

  “And it looks like she got a hit in,” Wolf added.

  Lorber ran the back of his finger over the knuckle wound and bruise on her hand. “I would have seen that next. And I have a theory about what happened.”

  Capriati looked up from his tablet.

  “Cracked ribs on the X-ray?” Lorber asked.

  Capriati shook his head.

  “No bother. I’m still probably right.”

  “About what?” Wolf asked.

  “Deep bruise to the back, directly behind the lung? A person slammed in the chest, like by a fist or a bicycle handlebar, will often experience shortness of breath for days afterwards. Sometimes they’ll have coughing fits that hurt like hell, which only lessens the intake of oxygen. Makes sense now why she got in the accident.”

  Wolf eyed Capriati.

  The doctor shrugged. “Could be she was coughing, became short of breath, and ran off the road. That’s not my job to find out. My job is to make her better. And to start with, you should step back and get your hands off her, Dr. Lorber. Let her rest.”

  Lorber pulled his hand back from Luke’s cheek. “She’s comatose. Can’t rest any harder than that without dying.”

  Luke’s face was pale and held no expression, save a slight frown, as if her brows were being pulled together with fishing line. As if she was remembering something bad.

  Capriati snapped his fingers, pulling Wolf from his thoughts.

  “Let’s go. Out.”

  They turned and left the room.

  Chapter 12

  “The guy doesn’t remember what happened. Says he was drinking in the bar, then blacked out. Woke up on his buddy’s couch the next morning.” Detective Heather Patterson had just arrived at the third-floor hospital waiting room with Rachette.

  Lorber checked his watch. “Shit. I have to get down to the lab.” He slapped Wolf on the shoulder. “Keep me posted.”

  The elevator door opened and MacLean and
Wilson walked out to join them in the third-floor hospital waiting room.

  “What’s happening?” MacLean asked.

  “Detectives Patterson and Rachette were just explaining what they’ve found out about the car Luke stole and crashed,” Wolf said.

  “Right.” Patterson looked at Rachette.

  “We were just saying, according to the Smuckers PD—”

  “Smuckers?” MacLean frowned. “Like the jelly?”

  “Yes, sir,” Rachette said. “The SPD said the owner of the vehicle had drunk so much that he blacked out at the bar three nights ago. When he woke up, he was at his friend’s house and noticed he didn’t have his car keys. The next day, he had his friend bring him back to the parking lot. He saw his car was gone and reported it stolen.”

  “And the friend whose house he woke up at?” MacLean asked.

  “He says he left the bar and saw his friend lying in the parking lot. His buddy’s car was missing, but he didn’t know it, just thought his friend was taking a snooze outside on the ground. Said he scooped up his friend and took him home, then brought him back the next day, and to the police station. In other words, he has no new information.”

  MacLean blew air from his lips and turned to Wolf. “How’s she doing?”

  “Still no change. Non-responsive,” Wolf said.

  Wolf walked to the window. Low clouds skated across the sun and a freshening wind bent the sage below.

  Lauren’s black Audi Q7 rolled into the lot and parked.

  He watched her climb out and shut the door. She wore jeans and a white fleece zipped up to her neck. As she strode across the pavement, she tucked in her chin against the headwind and disappeared under the windows.

  “Kind of bad timing, eh?” MacLean appeared next to Wolf.

  Wolf said nothing.

  “At least it’s not the day of the wedding.”

  “Yeah.”

  The elevator bell dinged and Lauren walked into the waiting room.

  The awkward greetings done with, she joined Wolf by the window. “Hi, Lauren,” MacLean said, ducking away.

  “How are you?” Wolf asked.

  “Good. You?”