In the Ground (David Wolf Book 14)

name?”
"Deputy Piper Cain. I'm not sure if it’s broken. It seems to me like a hard sprain, but of course, it's better to be safe than sorry. There’re a lot of bones in the foot.”
"It's not the foot, it's the ankle." Patterson groaned.
"Sir, I'd be happy to drive her into the ER,” Cain said. “Or…obviously…you could take her."
"You're driving me in," Patterson said. "I'm not listening to Rachette’s bullshit all the way to the ER."
“Hey.” Rachette frowned.
“I could take her,” Wolf said. “I drove, too.”
“I'll go with her." Patterson’s tone conveyed the matter was settled and they’d get a foot up their asses if they said anything further.
"Help me up.” Patterson shot out her good arm and clutched onto Rachette’s pant leg.
Rachette wobbled, almost falling over, but then steadied himself and pulled her up. “Now she wants my help.”
Wolf watched as Cain helped on Patterson’s other side.
“You got her?” Wolf stepped in close.
“I got her.” Cain swiveled around, pointing them toward the line of vehicles. “I’m the Jeep Cherokee.”
Yates jogged up, appearing out of the rain. “What happened?”
Patterson, only five foot four and less than a hundred pounds, even with her clothes soaking wet like they were right now, floated between Rachette and Cain. Cain supported Patterson’s injured leg at the knee.
“She hurt her ankle,” Wolf said.
Yates shuffled alongside the procession. “Patty, you okay? What happened?”
Wolf studied Cain as they walked. Where did he know her from? He knew he’d seen her before. The hood drawn over her head added to the mystery. He was the sheriff and she was one of his deputies. That was a good enough reason she looked familiar, he supposed. But, then again, he was only interim sheriff, and he hadn’t set foot in Dredge in the year since he’d taken office. On top of that she had to have been new, he decided.
He found himself studying her up and down on the way to the vehicles. Wet strands of dark hair were lashed across her face and stuck to her skin. She had perfect teeth, he noted, as he watched her speak to Patterson.
"Get the door?”
“What?”
Rachette looked over his shoulder. “Sir, can you get the door?”
“Right.”
But Yates beat Wolf to it, popping open the passenger side of Deputy Cain’s Jeep.
"No, we should put her in back," Cain said, "so she can elevate her leg."
Wolf opened the rear while Yates closed the front.
A feminine scent spilled out, wafting past his nose, and he decided it was the opposite of opening his own car door.
They got Patterson inside, and she groaned her thanks. "Ah." She appeared to be in agony as she tried to settle on the seat.
“Should have gone in the other way,” Yates said.
“Let’s pull her back out,” Rachette said, putting his hands under her armpits.
“Get off!” Patterson swatted him away and propelled herself forward.
Cain sprinted around and got into the driver's side. She nudged the hood back, sending raindrops flying, revealing long thick hair pulled back in a ponytail.
For an instant Wolf looked in and locked eyes with Cain in the mirror, before she turned around to face Patterson. “We’re ready to go.”
"Shut the door," Patterson said.
Rachette pushed the door closed. Wolf backed his head out of the way just in time, the door grazing his nose on the way past.
Wolf knocked, "We'll see you there!”
Without looking, Patterson gave a thumbs up. The Jeep sped away, past a line of parked department cruisers, out onto the exit road and up the valley until it disappeared into the foggy veil.
Wolf, Yates, and Rachette walked to the open-sided tent where the miners stood huddled out of the rain. They spoke excitedly, duffel bags and backpacks slung over their shoulders.
Wolf pulled his hood up over his head and walked toward them.
"My name is David Wolf. I'm the sheriff."
The tallest of the men nodded. "My name is Kevin. Kevin Koling.” He extended a big hand that wrapped easily around Wolf’s.
"I’m Lizotte. Casey Lizotte,” the shortest of them said. He stood noticeably apart from the other three. Wolf remembered he had been the one who dug up the body. The new worker.
“You’re Sexton?” Wolf nodded to the man next to McBeth.
“That’s right.”
“That was some good tractor driving over there.”
Sexton nodded, saying nothing.
“Told you he was good,” McBeth said, his voice barely audible over the rain drumming the top of the tent.
Wolf nodded. “Well. Thank you. I know that couldn’t have been an easy thing.”
The big man, Koling, stared hard at him. “I don’t understand it. How did he die? It makes no sense. Eagle said there was blood on his neck and his head. What would do that? It had to be some sort of accident. Something to do with the wash plant. Or a rock falling on him?”
McBeth, Sexton, and Lizotte waited for an answer.
“We’re not exactly sure yet,” Wolf said, deciding to hold back on the truth until they got these men separated and into an interrogation room.
“Where did you pick him up from?” Koling asked Lizotte. The big man leaned toward him. “Was he buried?”
Lizotte opened his mouth, his eyes darting from side to side. “I…I don’t know. I just looked up and there he was, coming out of the scoop. I told you, Kev.”
“Listen,” Wolf said. “We’d like to talk to you each separately. We’ll get to the bottom of this and find out exactly what happened, you can rest assured about that. My detectives inform me you’ve gathered some clothing and supplies from your trailers for the next few days.” Wolf gestured to their bags slung over their shoulders.
“Few days?” McBeth asked with a scoff. “They said they needed to search the place for clues. They never said anything about a few days.”
“We’re not sure how long it will take, sir,” Wolf said. “It could take one day, it could take a few. We’re just worried about getting all the information we can so we can sort this out. That includes searching every bit of this property. And I’m sorry you cannot be