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!”
“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.”
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