by Haylen Beck
Showalter waved the warrant at Mrs Gerber. ‘Ma’am, you understand me and my colleagues are going to come in and search the premises anyway, right?’
Mrs Gerber stood back and opened the door wide. ‘You go on and do whatever you need to.’
Showalter and the patrolman disappeared inside. Mitchell remained on the porch, hands on her hips, shaking her head. ‘You have any ideas as to where Mrs Kinney might have gone?’ she asked.
‘Well,’ Mrs Gerber said, ‘if you ask me, I’d say she’s most likely gone to look for her children. Seems no one else is much concerned about doing it, so I suppose she might as well.’
Mitchell bristled. ‘Mrs Gerber, is there something you want to tell me?’
‘No, nothing that comes to mind,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Except that I know crazy when I see it, and I know a lie when I hear it. And, Sheriff Whiteside, you’re not welcome on my property. Please step off my porch and onto the sidewalk.’
The door closed and Whiteside turned, walked down the steps and across the street. He heard Mitchell’s footsteps behind him, jogging to catch up.
‘Leave me alone,’ he said.
‘Sheriff, we need to—’
Whiteside spun around, pointed a finger at her face. ‘Either arrest me or leave me the fuck alone.’
He left Mitchell there and made for the station, and the parking lot on the other side. Cracking, cracking, cracking, everything coming apart. The whole damn world turning to splinters and dust. He shook his head as if trying to get rid of a bothersome fly.
‘Coming apart,’ he said aloud, before he could catch himself.
Halfway to the lot, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and he cried out. He grabbed for it, looked at the display: his own home number. He stopped walking. Cold sweat prickled on his forehead. He thumbed the green button.
‘Who is this?’
‘It’s me,’ Collins said.
Whiteside turned in a circle, looking for Mitchell. He couldn’t see her.
‘What are you doing at my house?’
‘I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. I can’t go home. I can’t go to the station.’
‘All right,’ he said. ‘Just wait there, stay out of sight. I’ll be there soon.’
He ran to the cruiser, climbed in, started the engine. The tires squealed on the pavement as he pulled out of the lot.
Whiteside steered the cruiser through the gate into his yard. Beneath the carport he saw the shape of a vehicle covered by one of his old tarpaulins. Lee’s rental, he guessed. He pulled up to the bumper, walked around to the rear of his house. The screen door stood ajar. He edged up to it, put his foot on the single step, saw that the back door had been forced. It creaked as he pushed it aside and entered his kitchen.
‘Where are you?’ he called.
Collins stepped into the doorway from the hall. Her cheek was grazed and bruised, a trail of drying blood from a wound on her scalp that still glistened. He grabbed a towel from by the sink and tossed it to her. The scent of stale urine and sweat wafted from her.
‘Christ, you’re bleeding all over my house,’ he said.
She pressed the towel to the wound. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do.’
‘What happened?’
Tears erupted from Collins’ eyes. ‘He made me drive to town. He tied me up in the backseat and went and got Audra Kinney. Then they made me take them out to the cabin.’
Whiteside felt a swelling behind his eyes, pressure in his jaw. If he hadn’t put a hand on the kitchen table, he might have fallen. ‘You took them there?’
‘I had no choice.’
‘You took them there?’ His voice ripped at his throat.
Collins dropped the towel on a chair and took a step back into the hall. He followed her, his fists balled at his sides.
‘Wait, listen. They were gone. We got there, and the trapdoor was open, and the children were gone. I don’t know where they went. I would have been killed if I hadn’t got away. But listen, I’ve been thinking it through. We have no alternative now. We have to turn ourselves in.’
‘Don’t,’ he said.
‘What choice do we have?’ she asked as she backed further along the hall, her voice keening.
He followed her. ‘Stop talking, Mary.’
‘There’s no other way,’ she said.
‘Shut your mouth,’ he said.
‘We’re done, whatever happens now, we’re going to be caught. At least if I hand myself in, I might get some—’
He felt her nose crunch beneath his fist, felt the pain of it coursing up his arm from his hand before he knew he’d thrown the punch.
Collins went down hard. The back of her head connected with the tiled floor. She blinked at the ceiling for a few moments. Then she coughed, spat blood into the air as it coursed from her nose over her lips and cheeks.
‘Fuck,’ Whiteside said. ‘Fuck me.’
He pressed his palms to his temples as if to keep his mind in place, as if it might crack and crumble if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
‘Jesus,’ he said, his voice high and whining.
Collins heaved herself onto her side, then onto her stomach. She tried to get her knees under her, tried to crawl away.
Whiteside knelt down, reached for her. She slapped at his arms, but he gathered her up, held her close.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.’
She coughed again, spattering his sleeves with red. Her body jerked and twisted as she tried to pull away.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said.
Her chin fit neatly into the crook of his elbow as he wrapped his right arm tight around her neck. His left arm curled around the top of her head. He squeezed.
‘So sorry,’ he said.
Her body bucked, her legs kicked, hands grabbing at his arms and shoulders, nails seeking his face.
‘I’m sorry.’
Then she became very still, and he kissed the top of her head as his tears rolled down from his cheeks to soak into her hair.
47
‘DID YOU LOVE him?’ Danny asked.
‘I thought I did,’ Audra said. ‘And I thought he loved me, at first. I wanted it to be true. I told myself things would get better. That he’d change, but he didn’t.’
They each sat with their backs against either side of a tree trunk. A few minutes’ rest from the relentless trek through the forest. Coming up on two hours, according to Danny’s watch. Audra had grown hoarse from calling her children’s names, hearing nothing back but the echo of her own voice. With the air as thin as it was up here, maybe she shouldn’t have wasted her breath on shouting, but it had seemed the only sane thing to do.
With no cell signal out here, they had no choice but to keep moving. The compass app on Danny’s phone had meant they could keep track of their direction. Even so, the risk of getting lost was great. The further they strayed from the cabin where Sean and Louise had been held, the deeper the danger of never finding the way back. Audra had agreed to give it another hour or so, and if they didn’t find anything, they’d retrace their steps, get back to the road, and hope to spot a passing car.
‘Tell me about your wife,’ Audra said.
‘Mya,’ Danny said. ‘She was a miracle. Saved my life. Without her, I’d be in prison or dead. Her and my little girl were everything I had. And those bastards took them away from me. When I find them …’
He didn’t need to finish the thought.
‘I hope you do,’ Audra said.
‘I’ve spent five years thinking about it,’ Danny said. ‘How I shouldn’t have let Mya go that morning. I should have begged her to stay. But I was too proud, too damn stubborn. And now they’re gone and I can’t ever get them back.’
They fell into silence, the trees whispering all around, laced with birdsong.
Audra heard Danny sniff. She turned her head, saw his head bowed. She reached for his hand, took it in hers.
&
nbsp; ‘We’ll put it right,’ she said. ‘Whatever we have to do, we’ll do it.’
His fingers squeezed hers.
48
THE DRY LAKEBED was wider than Sean thought. It seemed to take an age to cross it, the ground hard like rock beneath their feet. The sun had risen above the trees, and his skin prickled with the strength of it, the heat cutting through the mountain air’s chill.
By the time they reached the other side, the ribbon of smoke had thickened, become darker. Sean kept hold of Louise’s hand as they ascended the slope on the other side and re-entered the trees. Cold again, the sun blocked by the branches.
Sean peered up through the pines, felt a moment of panic when he couldn’t find the smoke. He stopped, released Louise’s hand, and turned in a circle.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
‘I’ve lost it,’ he said.
‘Lost what?’
‘The smoke. We need to follow the smoke, but I can’t find it.’
He turned in a circle, his eyes to the shards of sky he could make out through the canopy. Think, he commanded. Where’s the dry lake? He faced that direction. Now where was the eagle? He stretched out his arm as if it was a needle on a compass, rotated until he felt sure his fingers pointed in the right direction. Then he looked up, stared hard.
There. Thank God, there it was, the pale smear of gray in the sky.
‘Come on,’ he said, taking Louise’s hand again.
They picked their way through the trees, Sean keeping his attention on the smoke, for fear of losing it again. No matter how fast they walked, however long, the smoke seemed to come no closer. A phantom against the blue, a mirage to trick them deeper into the forest.
‘Can we stop?’ Louise asked after a while.
‘No,’ Sean said. ‘We’re almost there.’
‘You said that ages ago, and we’re not. Can we stop and have a candy bar?’
‘No,’ Sean said, quickening his pace, his hand tightening on Louise’s. ‘Just a little further, I promise.’
Then he looked to the sky once more and stopped, causing Louise to stumble into him.
No smoke. He’d lost it again. Panic threatened to crack open in him. They were too far now from the dry lake to use that as a waypoint. Sean wasn’t even sure whether he’d be able to find it again if they turned back.
‘Shit,’ he said.
‘You said a curse,’ Louise said.
‘I know. Be quiet a second.’
Look, look, look. He stared at the sky until his eyes ached. He dared not turn in case he lost their direction entirely. He focused and unfocused, searching for even the faintest wisp. Nothing. His gaze dropped to the ground, ready to give up, but something caught him. Something flickery orange. He looked up again, through the trees.
There it was again. Like a glowing eye blinking in the distance. A fire, he was sure of it.
Sean dropped the bag of supplies, grabbed Louise’s hand, and ran, dragging her after. She shouted in protest, but he kept going, as fast as he could run while keeping her with him. Soon a clearing was in sight, a break of light through the trees.
‘See it?’ he asked between ragged breaths.
‘No,’ Louise said. ‘Slow down!’
‘Look,’ he said. ‘It’s a fire.’
He could see it now, a cluster of flames over the rim of a metal drum. The clearing coming closer as he ran faster and faster, the blisters on his feet forgotten. Now, in the spaces between the trees, he saw a small cabin. A pickup truck, dull red against the green.
They burst from the treeline into the clearing, and Sean halted. Louise carried on until his grip on her hand stopped her. The barrel stood in front of the cabin, a metal grille placed over the top, flames licking up through it. No one in view.
A peal of barking startled them both, and Louise came close to Sean. Around the side of the cabin came a dog, a scruffy mongrel with a shaggy black coat and bright amber eyes. The dog advanced toward them, its teeth bared. Sean pushed Louise behind him, his arms out to shield her.
‘What’s the matter, Constance?’
An old man dressed in weathered khaki gear walked around from the rear of the cabin, his arms full of scraps of cardboard and paper. He paused when he saw Sean and Louise at the edge of the clearing.
‘Quiet, Constance.’
The dog kept barking.
‘I said, quiet, Constance, goddamn it.’
Constance’s barks lowered to a deep growl in her chest. She continued to stare at the visitors.
‘Go to bed,’ the old man said. ‘Constance, go to bed, right now. I reckon these two are a little small to be coming to rob us.’
Constance trotted to the cabin’s porch, glancing back at Sean and Louise, and nestled down into a dog bed. The old man walked to the barrel, dropped the armful of cardboard and paper, and used a pair of tongs to remove the grille. He scooped up the garbage and dropped it into the barrel. Fresh flames and embers rippled up, and more smoke. He returned the grille to its place before turning to Sean and Louise.
‘So, what are you kids doing all the way out here in the asshole of beyond?’
Sean took a step forward. The dog lifted its head and barked. The man told her to shut up, goddamn it. He turned back to Sean and said, ‘Speak up, boy.’
‘Sir, we’re lost. We need help.’
The old man looked from Sean to Louise and back again.
‘That right? Well, then I guess you’d better come inside,’ he said.
49
WHITESIDE STUFFED THE few hundred dollars he had left into his bag. He stepped over Collins’ body and left the bag by the back door. A few clothes, the little money he had. It wasn’t much to show for his life.
Thoughts like that had been landing heavy on him for the last hour as he toured the house, gathering up whatever he needed to take with him. That after fifty-five years, there was nothing to show for himself. Each time the idea resurfaced, he stopped whatever he was doing and rode the wave of grief and sorrow, trying not to cry like a baby.
He had no idea where he would run to. Down to the border was the obvious choice, but once he’d crossed into Mexico, what then? Three hundred dollars and some change wouldn’t get him far. But what else was left now?
His last task was to destroy any trace of his conversations on the Dark Web. His ancient laptop sat on the kitchen table. He didn’t know much about these things, but he knew if the feds got hold of the computer, they would surely have everything they needed on him.
Aside from the dead body on his hall floor?
A ridiculous laugh bubbled up from his belly, and he brought a hand to his mouth. Too much of this, he thought. Madness breaking through and surfacing before he could catch it. No more. Now was not the time.
He reached for the laptop, turned it upside down, and examined the bottom. A rectangular cover fastened by a plastic catch contained the hard drive. He thumbed the catch and the cover came away. He pried the hard drive loose, detached the ribbon cable, then dropped it to the floor. His toolbox lay on the cupboard floor. He opened it, took out the claw hammer, and crouched down by the hard drive. Half a dozen sharp blows and he thought the drive was about as broken as it could be. He left the pieces on the floor and went out to the hall, stepping over Collins’ corpse once more.
Whiteside stopped, looked down at her.
What to do? He could simply leave her there, knowing that Mitchell and her people would come looking for him at some point and find Collins instead. Or he could try to hide her. Maybe move her to the trunk of the rental car that was parked outside.
And what good would that do? Maybe none, but he felt it needed doing anyway.
As he bent down to get hold of Collins’ ankles, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket, causing him to cry out. He grabbed for it and looked at the display, didn’t recognize the number. His thumb went to the green. He put the phone to his ear and said nothing.
After a few moments a man’s voice said, ‘Hello?’
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br /> ‘Who is this?’ Whiteside asked.
‘Is that Ronnie?’
‘Yes. Who is this?’
‘Hey, Ronnie, how are you? This is Bobby McCall, up in Janus.’
Sheriff Bobby McCall, pushing seventy, had served Janus County for more than forty years. He had two more deputies than Whiteside had, and a better budget.
Whiteside cleared his throat, steadied himself.
‘Hey, Bobby, what can I do for you?’
‘Well, I just got a call over the radio from an even older fart than me, John Tandy, up in the forest here. He has a place out in the middle of nowhere, not far from Lake Modesty, or what used to be Lake Modesty before the drought. Crazy old son of a bitch, he was a survivalist before they even had a name for that. He lives out there with his guns and knives, never leaves the place except to get supplies once a month or so. Anyway, John just called me on the radio – he’s got no phone out there – and he says two kids just showed up on his front step.’
Whiteside swallowed, felt a dizzy wave rush through his head. ‘Two kids?’ he asked.
‘Yessir, a boy and a girl. He says they just walked out of the trees and asked for help. Of course I thought of the trouble you’re having down there in Silver Water and called the station. Couldn’t get through, so I tried your cell phone. I hope you don’t mind.’
Whiteside leaned his forehead against the wall. ‘Not at all. The kids’ father put out a reward and the phone lines have been jammed ever since. You did the right thing. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, but the thing is, like I said, John Tandy is about as crazy an old bastard as you’ll ever meet. Not two months ago he radioed to tell me there was government people, NSA or Secret Service or whatever, spying on him through the trees. A month before that, he told me there was UFOs flying over the lake, except they weren’t really UFOs, they were experimental aircraft the government was testing. So, I have to say, there’s a good chance old John somehow heard about the mess down there in Elder, about the two missing kids, and he’s just imagined them appearing on his property. In fact, I’d say it’s probable. He offered to drive them down to me, but I thought I’d check with you first, see how you wanted to play this.’