Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Patterson looked at the clock again and then over at the empty seat of Rachette’s desk.

The bastard. As soon as he came in, she was going to beat his ass. That was if he decided to actually show up.

She pushed her chair back from her computer and rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn. After another night of fitful sleep, she was here on a Saturday morning. All because of Rachette, who was out there still doing, God knew what.

The night before, she had gotten a late call from Charlotte telling her that she’d heard from him. Rachette told her he was okay and that everything was fine, that he had been with Yates, but Charlotte had no further details. And he still wasn’t answering Patterson’s calls this morning. Clearly, he was avoiding facing her, knowing she wouldn’t put up with half the shit his wife did.

Her email pinged. It was the request from her Special Forces contact down at Fort Carson. She had wanted more information on Lawrence Hunt’s time spent in the army, and it looked like they’d delivered on her request .

She read the email. A PDF file was attached with the roster of men from teams Hunt had served with over his twenty-two-year career.

“Hey,” a voice came from behind her.

Rachette walked up, dropped a bag next to his desk, sat down, and sipped a cup of coffee. “How’s it going?”

She turned slowly, her eyebrows raising. “How’s it going?”

Rachette wiggled his mouse and looked at his computer screen.

“I’ve been looking for you, calling every thirty minutes for two days, and you just waltz in here and ask me how’s it going?”

“Hey, Rachette,” Nelson walked up. “There you are. We’ve been looking for—” He eyed Patterson and closed his mouth. Then he backed away, bypassing his desk altogether as he walked out of the squad room.

“Speak,” she said.

Rachette swiveled his chair toward her. “Look. I’m sorry. I was in a bad place.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew your brakes were cut?”

“Because I knew who it was, and I was so pissed I thought I might kill them. I didn’t want you to stop me because I knew you would.” He looked at her with the most sincere expression she’d ever seen on him.

“Okay,” she said. “And…what happened?”

He explained how he found the men, had gone to their house, and how Yates had come barging in to stop him.

“If it weren’t for you,” he said, “Yates would have never been there. So, thanks, Patty.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Okay. You’re welcome. ”

“But everything’s fine now,” Rachette said.

“Fine? What about these two guys who cut your brakes? Did you bring them in?”

He launched into an explanation about Yates and how he had uncovered their method of acquiring illegal prescription drugs and Rachette’s decision to make them leave rather than involve Yates in their prosecution, which would have further worsened an already bad situation for the man.

“They have until seven tonight to leave, or else we’ll bring them in,” Rachette said.

She scoffed. “And you trust these assholes?”

“No. I don’t. Which is why I went over to their house again this morning to make sure they were making good on their end of the deal.”

“And?”

“And it looks like they are. I went up and parked right there in front of their house and watched while Carlton, one of the guys, packed up his car and left. The other guy was packing, too. But he was taking his time, so I decided I’d give him some space…thought I’d come here so you’d stop calling me.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, Rachette.”

“Look. I told you the truth, even though I knew you wouldn’t like the idea. But I don’t care. I’m not putting Yates through more than he needs at this point. It’ll work out. Or it won’t. Either way, I’ll take the hit. This has nothing to do with you.”

She leaned back in her chair, watching as Rachette turned back to his computer and clicked his keyboard.

With a sigh, she slid forward, reading the email again.

“How’s Wolf doing? ”

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him today,” she said, clicking the PDF attachment.

“But what’s going on up there?”

The file expanded on screen, but she looked over at Rachette with an expression that said seriously?

“I heard they still haven’t found Hunt,” he said.

“Yeah.” She turned back toward the screen.

“Okay, fine,” he said. “I’ll get my info from somebody else.” He stood up and stretched his arms overhead.

“Already taking a break, are we?” she said, reading the screen.

There was a list of twelve men in a column, with a short bio detailing their time in service, including specialization on the Green Beret team. A current home address was listed with each man. Her eyes stopped at the third man down.

“Hey,” she said. “This guy’s in Green River, Wyoming.”

Rachette stepped up behind her, looking over her shoulder.

“So?”

She shook her head, then quickly explained how Hunt’s vehicle had been found in Green River the day before.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” She pointed. “Oh shit, look at that.”

Rachette leaned forward, reading. A second later, he whistled softly. “That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not. You call Wolf and tell him about this.” She picked up her phone.

“Yeah, okay.” He picked up his desk phone. “Who are you calling?”

“Green River PD. I’ll see if they can follow up.”