Chapter 15
Savvy
“What is your father doing here?”
I glance back at my dad sitting behind the wheel of his ancient Bronco. He’s staying put in his truck like I told him to. At least for now.
What can I say? The stubborn old goat insisted on following me in his old beater after I told him he could absolutely not ride along with me.
I was just passing Mountain View Lodge when he caught up with me.
Unfortunately, his rust bucket is louder than a thunder car at the stock races, and I’m sure any living creature out in these woods could hear us coming.
“I’m not sure. I called him to get directions to this place and told him no when he wanted to ride shotgun. He didn’t want me to go alone and, as you may remember, my father has a stubborn streak a mile wide, so he decided to follow me anyway.”
Thank God my deputy, Warren Burns, was already waiting by the red rock when we drove up.
Warren is former Seattle PD, and he was the last person my father hired.
He’s an excellent deputy and likes working the night shifts, which works out fine for me.
His excuse for trading in a detective position in a big city like Seattle, for a post as a deputy in the smallest county of the state, is he needed a change of scenery.
I always suspected there was more to the story, but his file shows he left the police department on good terms, with an excellent record and a high recommendation from his captain.
I’m pretty sure it must be something in his personal life, but he’s not really much of a social guy, and I rarely see him outside of work.
But I’m glad it’s him at my back tonight as we start walking the trail toward the river side.
“I hope he stays put,” Warren mumbles beside me as we trudge along the overgrown path, his flashlight lighting the way.
“You and me both.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch Warren looking at me. “What?”
“Care to tell me why we’re out here in the boonies looking for Sanchuk at eleven at night, instead of tomorrow when we can see where we’re going?”
“Because I’ve put it off long enough and now a man is in the hospital. I can’t wait until tomorrow. Not anymore.”
“Are you talking about that guy who was attacked in his garage? Hugo filled me in on that case.”
“Not just any guy. Nate Gaines, he’s the guy who fixed the ceiling by the holding cells. You probably missed him because you work the night shift. He also happens to be the guy Sanchuk assaulted in the office kitchen.”
That stops Warren in his tracks.
“He did what? How come I haven’t heard about that?”
Because I made Brenda swear to hold her wagging tongue, and the only other person who knows at the station is Hugo, who happened to be there when I was giving Jeff Sanchuk his options in my office, and Hugo wouldn’t share employee related stuff with others.
“Wait, is that why he retired so abruptly? I did hear about that.”
“Yes, that would be why.”
“I’m surprised,” he states. “Don’t get me wrong, from what I’ve seen of him, Sanchuk is a Grade A prick, a bully, and a piss-poor cop. Never liked the guy. But he’s usually smarter than to shit where he eats. What made him lose his cool this time?”
I snort. He gives an accurate assessment of the man.
For both Nate’s sake and my own, I wasn’t going to broadcast any details, but I probably owe it to Warren since I dragged him out here and he should know what he’s in for.
“In a nutshell; Nate and I were an item fifteen or so years ago when Sanchuk decided to run him out of town under the threat of bogus burglary charges that wouldn’t just impact Nate, but his family as well.”
“And he left? Just like that?”
I guess it’s a fair reaction, but Warren doesn’t know Nate’s background.
He didn’t grow up here and doesn’t understand, no matter how hard Nate worked on building a decent life, he was always struggling to overcome his bad rap with law enforcement.
He had no reason to trust them. Not back then and—given what happened to him since he returned—I’m pretty sure that hasn’t changed much.
“Trust me, Nathan had his reasons,” I assure him. “Look, I can’t be a hundred-percent sure as to what prompted Sanchuk to assault him the first time, but I’m willing to bet he was hoping to intimidate Nate. Probably worried about his own hide if it ever came out what he did all those years ago.”
I have to duck for a low hanging branch and end up stumbling over the protruding root on the ground. Warren grabs my elbow to keep me from landing on my face.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. So I’m guessing you think Sanchuk is responsible for this latest attack as well?”
“I do. Nate remembers his attacker saying he should’ve stayed away. Sanchuk is the only one who makes sense.”
I catch Warren nodding.
“And you trust this Nate?” he asks, shooting me a sideways glance.
If he’d have asked me this question a few weeks ago, I’d have given him a resolute no, but after the attacks and getting the full background story from Nate, I have no doubts.
I’m about to answer him when he shushes me and stops, pointing up ahead. The flickering orange glow of a fire is visible through the trees slightly to our right.
“What’s the plan?” Warren whispers.
I’d hoped that if we found him here, he’d be inside, maybe asleep already. Having him sitting out by a campfire makes it tougher to approach without alerting him. At this point, I don’t trust him not to go for a gun and shoot blindly.
“We approach him from opposite sides and announce ourselves when we get close enough, or if he hears us. Make sure your body cam is on, and let me do the talking. Keep your weapon holstered unless he leaves us no choice.”
“I’ll take the woods,” Warren volunteers.
I give him a bit of a head start to work his way around before I continue making my way up the narrowing trail, watching where I put my feet to minimize noise.
I’m just easing around a slight bend in the path when I hear a rustle and then the distinct slice and click of a rifle cocking. Immediately my hand goes to the gun on my hip.
“Sheriff’s Department!” I call out as I draw my gun. “It’s Savvy, Jeff. I’m just here to talk.”
When there isn’t a warning shot, I walk out into the open and see Sanchuk standing next to a folding chair by a small campfire. He is holding the rifle I heard loosely by his side, and he’s glaring at me.
It’s not until I take a few steps closer I see Warren in the shadows behind him. He has his service weapon aimed at Sanchuk.
“Drop the gun, Jeff,” he tells him. “We just have a few questions.”
With an angry grunt, he drops his rifle, and when Warren quickly confiscates it, I clip my weapon back in its holster.
“Thought you were a damn bear,” Sanchuk slurs as he takes his seat. “What the hell are you doing here? Can’t a man drink in peace?”
It’s then I notice the half-empty bottle of booze next to the chair. Wonderful.
Warren stays closely behind him, his hand on the butt of his weapon, ready to intervene if necessary. I hope it won’t be.
“Listen, I need you to come back to the station so I can ask you a few questions about an incident today.”
He barks out a harsh laugh, which turns into a phlegmy cough that makes me wince.
“Ask me here,” he finally manages.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jeff. You’ve been drinking and I’d prefer it if you were sober.”
Mostly because anything he volunteers or admits to while intoxicated makes for bad evidence. It would be reason for any defense lawyer worth his wages to challenge the validity of the testimony and argue for it to be thrown out of court.
“Then come back tomorrow.”
“You know that’s not the way it works.”
In response, he folds his arms and stares stubbornly into the fire.
There is no doubt he’d be long gone by the time we got here, and there is no way in hell I’m going to risk losing him at this point. I have my plate full with what is going on in town right now, and it would be nice to be able to scratch one investigation off my list.
Since he is clear about not coming voluntarily, we ultimately have no choice but to put Sanchuk in handcuffs and march him back to where we left our vehicles. He doesn’t resist, but appears to dig his heels in when he catches sight of my dad’s Bronco.
“Had to call in your daddy, didn’t you?” he taunts me. “Scared to face me alone, little girl?”
It requires a tremendous amount of restraint for me not to take the bait. It’s so damn tempting to exert my power over him, but that would only make his day and turn me into another bully.
“Come on, let’s go, Jeff,” Warren urges him toward the vehicles. “You’re only digging yourself a deeper hole.”
“Put him in the back of mine,” I instruct him. “Mr. Sanchuk can hitch a ride with me.”
Warren places him in the back of my cruiser and shuts the door. Then he turns to me.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asks in a low voice.
“Yep.”
“He’ll probably be mouthing off at you the entire ride,” he warns.
“I know.”
It’s what I’m counting on, and once he realizes he’s not getting the reaction he’s hoping for from me, he’s going to get annoyed and hopefully won’t be as careful with the things he spews.
I’ll be listening and will have the camera attached to my rearview mirror running the entire fifteen minutes it’ll take to get back to the station.
Any information I’m able to glean may not be enough for the DA, but it may give me the leverage I need when I officially question him in the morning. After he sobers up.
“That’s what I’m going for,” I confess with a grin.
Before I get into my vehicle though, I walk over to my father’s Bronco. Credit to him, it doesn’t look like he’s moved from his spot behind the wheel. He rolls down his window when he sees me approach.
“What’s going on?”
“He’s blotto. Had his rifle on us so we had to pull our weapons, but it all ended a little anticlimactically, since he’s drunk. So, I’m taking him in, letting him sleep it off in a holding cell, and questioning him in the morning.”
He nods, his eyes on the back of my cruiser where you can just see the outline of Sanchuk’s head through the back window.
“I appreciate your concern, but as you can see, we have it well in hand. Go home, Dad.”
He nods, but when I drive away moments later I notice his Bronco falling in line behind my cruiser and Warren’s.
Stubborn old coot.
For the first couple of minutes, I assume Jeff must’ve dozed off; there is not a peep from the back seat. So when he suddenly starts talking, it startles me for a moment.
“Not sure what you think you can pin on me, missy, but I’ve been up here fishing since you kicked my ass to the curb.”
“I’m not looking to pin anything on anyone, Jeff, unlike some people I know,” I return with a taunt of my own.
“Are you accusing me of something?” he immediately fires back, already getting riled up.
Perfect. I like him hissing and snarling. His own mouth will run him into trouble.
“Not at all,” I respond calmly, which probably only pisses him off more.
“Miss High and Mighty. You think your shit don’t stink, but it didn’t take you long to hook back up with that delinquent boyfriend of yours, did it?”
My blood runs cold at his words and I have to struggle not to show any reaction, because that’s what he’s after.
He’s been watching. He has to have been or he wouldn’t know that about Nate and me.
So much for him being up at the river all this time; it would appear he’s been doing a lot more than fishing.
I force a derisive laugh. “My Lord, Jeff; you must be really hammered, you’re starting to hallucinate.”
“Like hell I am,” he snarls back. “You’re welcoming that piece of trash back with open arms and, just like that, the town is going to hell in a handbasket.
I knew you weren’t fit for the job. Two murders in one week since that criminal rolled back into town, and what do you do?
You throw yourself at that filthy bastard instead of locking his sorry ass up. ”
I feel his spittle hit the back of my neck, but I don’t move, because every word out of his mouth is a nail in his own coffin.
“This town was locked down tight before you took over. There was no room for criminals like Gaines, and we made sure they didn’t stick around for long. Sent his ass packing too, and boy, were we glad to see the back of him.”
We?
I swallow the question hovering on my lips. I’d just be playing into his hands.
“Nathan told me how you ran him out of town,” I say instead.
“Threatening to frame him for a crime you knew he had nothing to do with.” I glance in the rearview mirror and see his narrowed eyes shimmer from the shadows of the back seat.
“It must’ve scared the crap out of you when you saw him back in town. Afraid he’d rat you out?”
He snorts. “I’m not scared of that piece of shit. But I bet you he realizes now he made a bad choice the day he decided to move back to Silence.”
Not quite a confession, but a clear admission he at least knows about the attack on Nate. I decide to push just a little more.
“And why is that?”
I catch him watching me in the rearview mirror and his face slowly cracks with a smile that sends a shiver down my spine.
“Because I’m not the only one upset to see Gaines back in town.”
“Oh?”
I try to stay casual as I raise an eyebrow. Sanchuk appears to be enjoying this exchange a little too much, and it makes me uneasy.
“Yeah…” he drawls. “But you’re gonna have to look a whole lot closer to home for that.”
My eyes immediately snap to my side mirror where I can see the Bronco still at the back of our little convoy.
I can just catch part of my father’s outline behind the wheel.
Swallowing hard, I force down the bile crawling up my throat.