Authors: James Buchanan
- Hard Fall (25 page)
Gunter's tent sat at the back of the space. Both bikes leaned against the metal picnic table. Unless he was off hiking, he'd be around. All of us, 'cept for Kabe, got out. I could hear Nadia scolding him to sit tight. Diamond and Jess got out and stood alongside their car. This was the Rangers'
scene so they would hang back unless needed. I might have been on suspension, but I wasn't a civilian, so I just ambled along after Sheriff Simple, who had the arrest warrant, like I had every right to be there. It didn't take long to spot Gunter lounging in one of those fold-out camp chairs and reading a book.
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As Nadia walked around the little rental car parked in the space, she called out, "Alban Gunter Warner?"
Seemingly unconcerned, Gunter looked up. "Ja." His eyes got just a little bigger when he counted the number of cops heading his way. He scrambled to his feet and dropped the book into the chair. "What is this?"
Charisma and command presence—Nadia radiated both as she walked up the campsite. "I'm Ranger Slokum, National Parks Service Law Enforcement. We met up at the Harding Ranch when your wife fell." With a jerk of her head, she introduced the other NPS Officer. "This here is Ranger Carbright." Pointing to the battered metal table the government installed years back, Nadia instructed, "Please turn around and put your hands on the picnic table there."
Nadia stood off to the side and back, directing him with her voice. Ranger Carbright, wary, ready and focused, moved off to the other side a bit, his hand on his sidearm.
Gunter did not move. "Why?"
"Sir, please do as you're instructed." Both Nadia and Carbright advanced. "Alban Gunter Warner," her tone was measured, even and commanding, "I have here a warrant to arrest you for the murder of one Anya Warner in Garfield County, Utah." Yet again I realized I wouldn't want to get crossways with Ranger Slokum.
Gunter bolted.
It didn't quite kick in that I was on suspension. My feet just moved and I went. Long as I kept him in sight I didn't put all that much effort out. Gunter'd likely wind himself on the initial sprint. Pacing myself well, when he started to fade 225
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I'd still have a little gas in the tank. Nadia pounded along near me. Didn't say nothing about me not supposed to be there.
I never quite understood people who ran. Maybe in some big city where there's lots of places to go. But we were in the back country, the land of hoodoos, thousand foot drops and rattlesnakes. Where the heck did Gunter think he was going to get off to?
Up and over a berm, then skittering around another camper's tent, Gunter stayed just a step ahead. I tore through a thorn bush behind him. My legs in jeans took it a lot better than his in shorts. I could see the little dots of blood along his calf. I ducked under branches and jumped logs trying to keep him in view. People scattered as we careened through their campsites.
Nadia and Carbright kept calling after him to surrender.
What did I care? We now had a charge of resisting arrest tacked on to murder. Saved my breath for just keeping him in sight. When Gunter hit the brush at the very edge of the campground, he lost almost all of his head start. Good shape or no, he wasn't used to running over scree and duff.
The land pitched and he stumbled. I poured on a burst and caught him around the middle. Can't say I looked like a hot shot, since my own feet went out from under me and we rolled down the hill in a pile of knees and elbows. I don't know what the heck Gunter was screaming at me in German.
Probably something about police brutality and he didn't do nothing.
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Wasn't more than a moment and Nadia was there yanking him off. Woman was a damn sight stronger than she looked.
She, Carbright and I all wrestled the man down. I reached for my cuffs and didn't find 'em. That's about when I remember I shouldn't really have been in that chase. Carbright didn't suffer my problem. He whipped out the cuffs and ricked them down.
Nadia stood. She jerked Gunter to his feet by grabbing his arms and pulling. Carbright took him in hand, leading him off.
Nadia turned to me as we walked back. "Thank you, Deputy."
Smirking, she drew out my title. "We can take it from here."
"Glad to be of help." I half-walked half-climbed back up the rise. Sheriff Simple stood there as I got to the top, his hat pushed back and his arms crossed over his chest. He shook his head while I walked toward him. "Didn't think, sir." I apologized.
He barked a laugh and waited for Carbright to pass him with Gunter. "Three years under me and now ... now you're going to be a pain in my side."
I shrugged. "Didn't ever figure to be." Kabe came jogging up about then. His eyes were all big. "What's wrong, Kabe?"
"Are you okay?"
The sheriff answered for me. "He's fine. He's gonna be a little busy in a bit with some paperwork on this
citizens' arrest
he just pulled." Simple adjusted his hat. "Come on, boys.
Joe's gonna come on back to Panguitch with me. We'll see if Ranger Slokum can arrange a ride back to T's for you." When Kabe opened his mouth to protest, Sheriff Simple shut him down. "Police business. Just got to happen that way. If you're 227
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going to be around Joe for a while," I got a sideways glance then he smiled, "you're just going to have to learn to live with that."
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I pulled into the courthouse lot wishing I'd eaten. 'Course then that'd just gimme something to throw up. Since I got there early, I sat in my truck and waited a bit. Doors didn't open 'till eight, had five or so minutes to go. Wasn't quite the historic two-story red-brick building I was used to over in Panguitch. Lots of red brick, but all done a square modern way with smoked glass windows and big multicolored rock wall that told me I was at the Hall of Justice. Not that I was there for the sights, anyhow.
I jumped when someone thumped the side of my truck.
Looked over and caught sight of Ranger Slokum all gussied up in her best uniform. When I popped the door and slid out, I got a low whistle. Since I couldn't be in my uniform I'd opted for Sunday-go-to-meeting wear: blue shirt, yellow tie and dark suit off the rack.
"You clean up nice." She grinned then looked back at Kabe who yawned and stumbled up next to us. "Don't you think, Sugar?"
I'd never seen Kabe in anything but jeans or climbing clothes. Don't know as I'd call what he wore dressed up ...
dark chinos, loafers with no socks, and an unbuttoned red shirt overtop a buttoned up white one. Both had their sleeves rucked up and showed off a set of forearms so cut with muscle I could have mapped 'em. I don't think I'd ever seen him scream city so big ... nor look so darn fine.
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"Yeah," he finished off another massive yawn with the word.
Somehow I managed to mumble out a coherent piece of the conversation, "Whatcha'll doing here?"
"Didn't figure you needed to do this all by your lonesome."
Nadia reached over and pulled a bit of fluff off my lapel. "So I drug lazy-bones here outta bed."
"I didn't ask you to come."
"Hey," Kabe shrugged, "what are friends for? If I can't get up early for you..." He let the tease trail off.
I couldn't tear my eyes off Kabe. He just smiled, like he knew he'd got me. Lord, what was I in for if'n a two-bit, citified, pretty boy could gill me on a trotline with just a look?
Nadia bumped my shoulder, "Yes, he's cute. He knows it.
You know it ... quit gawking and let's go." She started to walk off. I couldn't quite look away and Kabe smirked. "Both y'all stop the mutual admiration society and get your asses in the courthouse." That whip-crack voice stung my pride. I slammed my truck door shut as Kabe sauntered on past me.
Least it gave me an excuse to watch his butt move in those chinos.
We made our way past security and found the right courtroom. Pretty much courtrooms looked like courtrooms once you were inside. Two tables for defense and prosecution, witness box and prosecutors' table on the same side as the jury sat, and all of it covered in cheap wood paneling. They never ever seemed to have enough light in these places. A bunch of people with the same arraignment date as me sat behind the bar, the wooden rail that separated the legal 230
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minds from the Hoi-Polloi. Felt real odd sitting where I was instead of up in the jury box where law enforcement usually hung out.
They swore us in—witnesses, defendants, anyone who wanted to speak—all together. Got to watch the little video on all my rights and how I could plead. Seen it all before, although this was the first time I'd ever been on this side of the action. Nadia shot me one of those stern looks when I signed off on the constitutional waiver form without even reading it. Not like I didn't know what the darn thing said.
Noticed Ramon over on one side confabing with some hack attorney he'd come up with. Couldn't remember the guy's name, but I'd seen him before on some of my cases. Always looked like he'd slept in his suit; that stuck with me. Beyond that I really didn't remember him at all.
Up front, the City Attorney sat with her case files. Flipping though them, likely her first time seeing any of the matters was this morning, she made a few notes here and there.
Judge came in and we all rose when told to. Then he sat up at the bench all in his black robes and introduced himself as the Honorable Caleb Creek. The clerk had her computer right down below him. She pushed the TV off to the side, told us to sit as she sidled in to her space and began calling cases. The general round of folks disputing all manner of petty crimes cycled 'round. The judge took pleas and set trials with bemused efficiency. Every so often he'd haul off on a defendant who needed some stern words or pause to joke with an attorney who'd come up.
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He got to my and Ramon's cases, guess they'd been designated as related, about midway through and took a quick glance at the files. "If you have no objection," Judge Creek included us and the City's Attorney in his glance around, "I'll push this matter to the end of the calendar."
Since nobody did, that meant we got to wait a bit more. I tried not to fall asleep listening to people's excuses on why they shouldn't be treated the same as everyone else. Finished everyone up 'cept us, and then had the clerk call a recess.
Kabe groaned and shifted and I kicked him in the shin to mind himself. Since I was wearing my good cowboy boots, probably actually hurt equal to his reaction. Luckily, the judge was off the bench by then.
By the time the judge came back, I'd kinda reasoned out his thinking. The only souls left in the courtroom were us—
Ramon's people and mine—the city attorney and the courtroom staff. If I had to, I'd guess they'd marked us as law enforcement in his files. A little bit of courtesy; this way no one who didn't already know got to hear our problems in public.
The clerk called the cases and told us all to come up.
Justice courts ran pretty informal. 'Course that was their purpose—resolution without all the pomp and circumstance you'd get higher up. Still, it was a court and I knew to take it serious. The lady City Attorney announced that she was Anna Prestwell for the record, although we'd heard her name twenty times that morning. Ramon's attorney, Gerald Higgens, introduced himself and Ramon. I had to tell them who I was all on my own. Then Prestwell began to read the 232
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charges into the record: day, date, time. She started in on that we'd, "willfully and maliciously disturbed the peace by challenging to fight and fighting..."
Ramon busted in on her, "Wouldn't have been no fight if I wasn't provoked into it by how Joe Peterson acted!"
Not even thinking where he was, Kabe sputtered, "That's bullshit!" as Higgens shut Ramon down.
"Kabe," I barked so hard I heard seven necks cracking as everyone whipped their attention 'round to me, "watch your mouth!"
"First you, young man," The judge pulled his specs down a bit and glared over the rims, "you will keep a civil tongue while you're in my courtroom. Do I make myself clear?" Kabe swallowed and nodded. If I couldn't penetrate that thick space between his ears, hopefully the judge's words did. "And you," he glared at Ramon, "will not incite things in my courtroom. I agree with the sentiment, if not the vehemence and word choice, of that young man. Everyone," he glared
'round, "is on notice to behave in a civil manner." After taking a deep breath and settling back his glasses, Judge Creek started again, "Well, since we all seem to be acquainted here, why don't we go around the room and y'all can tell me who's come to my party? I'll start with you," he pointed one long finger at Kabe, "what's your name, son?"
"Yes, sir." Kabe seemed to remember where he was. He took his hands out of his pockets and everything. "Kabe Varghese."
"So what do you have to do with all this?"
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"I was with Joe, when that guy there," he kinda leaned back and indicated Ramon with a jerk of his head, "threw a punch at him."
"Okay Mr. Varghese, you are a witness then?" Judge Creek made a note. "And, by how you two interact, I take it you are a friend of Deputy Peterson?"
Ramon sneered, "That's one way to put it." There was enough twist in his voice to kink up a rattlesnake.
Before his attorney could shush him again, Judge Creek spoke up. "By your tone, Agent Piestiewa, I take it you have an opinion on the matter. Well, this is my courtroom and I am, aside from this sweet young lady sitting at that computer there, the only one allowed to have opinions within this room.