Page 50 of Inside Silence
“I see. Gaines told you that?”
“No, I heard him say it myself as I walked into the kitchen. But Nate told me later what that was all about. He told me everything.”
“He told you Sanchuk threatened him?”
I take a deep breath to calm my flaring temper. I should know by now people are rarely inclined to listen to someone yelling.
“Yes. And after he attacked him in his garage, he told Nate he should’ve stayed away. Now, do you know where Sanchuk’s fishing shack is? I need to have a word with the man.”
There’s a brief pause before I get an answer.
“It’s about ten miles north. Take Pinegrove up, past the turnoff to the Mountain View Lodge, and continue a couple more miles until you see a red-painted rock marking a small dirt road on the left side. Follow that to the end. You may have to walk in the last bit.”
It’s clear my father has been there before, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
“Okay. Thanks.”
I’m about to hang up when he adds.
“Savvy, wait. I don’t think you should go there alone.”
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.
