Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

“Brandenburg,” the voice came through Wolf’s phone.

“Sheriff Brandenburg?”

“Yeah.”

“Hello, this is Chief Detective David Wolf from the Sluice-Byron County Sheriff’s Department up in Colorado. My detective, Heather Patterson, left you a message yesterday afternoon. I’m just doing a follow-up call here.”

“Ah, yes. The dead bikers. What can I do for you on that front?”

Wolf relayed the full story of finding the dead bodies and the two motorcycles and how one of those dead men had a last known address in Doyle.

“Okay,” Brandenburg said, his tone unreadable.

“Does any of this mean anything to you?”

“Yes.” Brandenburg’s voice sounded tired now. “In fact, it does.”

Wolf stood up and looked down at the street below, waiting.

“We had a shootout up here involving Sons of the Void. ”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“When was this?”

“A few days ago.” The phone rustled. “What day is it?”

“Wednesday,” Wolf said, unsure if the man was being rhetorical but wanting him to keep talking.

“It happened Friday night. Actually, early Saturday morning, about three a.m. So, five nights ago, yeah. One of the victims was Donald Cruz.”

Wolf sat back down. “Dead?”

“Yes. In fact, there were four deaths. Three more injured with gunshot wounds.” Brandenburg chuckled mirthlessly. “I guess the action must have bled south to you guys.”

“So we’re looking at retaliation against whoever shot them up,” Wolf said.

“Sounds that way to me.”

“We found an empty bag,” Wolf said. “A canvass duffle. And a GPS tracking unit that looks like it was pulled out of it and destroyed.”

“There you go,” Brandenburg said. “Must have tracked him down there with that.”

“Him?”

“Or them.”

“Four people killed and three others injured,” Wolf said. “That’s seven victims. That sounds like multiple perps. What happened exactly? A bar shootout? Or…”

“The shootings happened at their compound. So, we’re not exactly sure what happened, except that we responded in the middle of the night when they called for medical help. ”

“So, it was at their compound. An inside altercation?” Wolf asked. “A disgruntled member?”

“We’re still in the dark there.”

“What are the bikers saying?”

“They’re not. That’s the problem.”

Wolf put a foot up on his desk. “Any idea what would have been in the bag we found down here?”

“Money? Drugs? Guns?” Brandenburg chuckled again. “If I had three guesses, I’d guess in that order.”

“Have you reached out to the FBI or ATF for support?”

“No, sir.” The answer came immediately.

“I have a few contacts in the FBI,” Wolf said. “They’re good people. I could put in a call and see if they have anything new on their end.”

“Could be a good idea,” Brandenburg said. “But we certainly do not want to be inundated by suits, so I’d appreciate you keeping that in mind.”

“Of course. It’s your county. Your call.”

Brandenburg said nothing.

“Well,” Wolf said. “I’d appreciate you keeping us abreast of any changes in the situation. Any new information you come across, like who the hell might be down here killing people in our county.”

“Will do,” Brandenburg said. “And the same goes for you.”

“Of course.”

They said their goodbyes, and Wolf hung up.

He stared out the window for a few minutes, his thoughts turning to the next person he was going to dial. He could call Special Agent Kristen Luke or, more straight to the finish line of where he wanted to go, Special Agent Archie Hannigan, Luke’s partner. A year ago, Hannigan had been in a relationship with a man who was undercover with a motorcycle gang. What had been the man’s name? Billy. That had been it.

Wolf decided there would be no end of Luke’s wrath if she caught wind that he went over her head, so he dialed her number.

“Hey,” she said, answering after two rings.

“How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“ Where are you?” Wolf asked.

“Sunny Southern California, actually.”

“Wow. Work or pleasure?”

“Work. Always work.” A male’s voice murmured beside her. “It’s Wolf…Archie says hey.”

“Actually, that’s kind of why I was calling,” Wolf said. He explained the situation.

“I’ll give you over to him,” she said, handing the phone to Hannigan.

Wolf and Special Agent Hannigan exchanged some pleasantries, and then Wolf repeated the situation, adding details about the gang’s clubhouse in Doyle being shot up five nights prior.

“Wow,” Hannigan said. “Yeah, that sounds like something Billy may know about. But I’m not seeing that asshole anymore, so I wouldn’t know about what he knows.”

Wolf sat back. “I see. Anyone else you know who would know?”

Hannigan remained silent for a beat, then huffed, “What do you want to know from him?”

“The violence is bleeding down into our county, and I’d like to know why. If something is going on I need to know about, I’d like to know before rather than after there’s more violence.”

“Yeah.” Hannigan sighed, sounding like he was being berated by his mother to clean his room. “Okay, okay. I’ll reach out to him and let you know what I hear. I can’t guarantee anything useful from that asshole, or anything timely for that matter.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Yep. Here’s Luke.”

The phone rustled, and Luke came back on. “Is that all?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“How’s the wedding planning going?”

He lied without pause. “Good. We never did get an RSVP from you.”

“I know.”

The line static crackled in his ear.

“Look, I have to go,” she said. “We’re due into a meeting in a few minutes.”

“Good talking to you.”

“You, too.”

The call ended, and Wolf set down the receiver.

I know. Her lack of explanation said volumes. Wolf just wasn’t sure he knew what to read into them. Was she upset he was getting married? Whether or not she still harbored relic feelings for him from their attempt at a relationship a decade prior crossed his mind whenever he saw her. But, just like back then, they rarely ran across one another. They were on different career paths, traveling in wildly different directions, crossing every once in a while for brief moments .

Patterson poked her head inside, snapping him out of his daze. “Lorber’s here. Sit room in five minutes.”