Shattered Justice

by Karen Ball

  She’d driven back to Medford after the funeral and gathered up what she needed to finish the commissioned pieces she’d been working on, loaded everything into her minivan, and drove back to Dan’s. He set up a temporary studio for her in the heated garage. Not the same, of course, as her studio at home with its perfect lighting, but it would do. So she spent her days working. And praying.

  And her evenings trying to break through the armor her brother had formed around himself.

  So far, she’d been a dismal failure.

  Annie went back to the living room, sitting on the floor next to Kodi. With a happy pant, Kodi flopped onto her side along Annie’s thigh.

  Well, at least her dog cared about her.

  The only thing Dan seemed to care about anymore was his job, and he kept a professional distance even from that. Every once in a while, just to see what would happen, Annie tried to stir something in him. To make him react, even in anger.

  But it just didn’t happen. From all she could see, Dan didn’t get angry, didn’t even question God. He just went … cold.

  And he’d never done that before. Even with Annie. She’d always been able to get through to him. But now …

  “I’ll tell you something, though.” Kodi’s ears perked up, and she tipped her head as she honed in on Annie’s voice. “I’ll bet you anything there’s a boatload of grief and anger trying to come to the surface. But you know Dan.”

  Kodi’s head tipped the other way, as though to say she did, indeed. Annie nodded. “Right. My dear brother is as stubborn as they come. If he’s decided he’s not going to feel, then by heaven, he won’t feel. Not a thing.”

  The shrill whistle of the teakettle broke the air, and Kodi sat up, ears at attention. Annie jumped to her feet, but didn’t get to the kettle fast enough.

  The dog tipped her head back and cut loose with a long, mournful, “Arrrroooooooo-ooooo!”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll shut it off. Stop howling, you nut!” Annie snatched the kettle from the burner, but it took a few seconds for the whistle—and the howling—to die out.

  Her mug of tea poured, Annie settled on the soft couch cushions. Kodi came to lie at her feet. Or, more accurately, on her feet.

  The dog wasn’t happy if she wasn’t touching someone. That was okay, though. It kept Annie warm. And she needed that, because she was going to be sitting here awhile.

  She knew better than to try and talk her brother out of his emotional desert anymore. She was here to listen, to help take care of whatever daily details she could.

  And to pray. Most of all to pray.

  Because only God could reach Dan now.

  Cupping her hands around the mug in her lap, she bowed her head. “Father, I don’t understand any of this. Not Sarah’s death. Surely not the kids being killed. It’s crazy, Lord. Crazy and wrong. But I know You, God. I know You’re grieving just as we are. Just as Dan is. Please, Father—” she gripped the mug—“You know how much it hurts to lose a child. You know the hard, cold place where Dan is caught. Please … touch my brother. Bring him back. Somehow, show him You’re with him, that You love him.”

  She wiped at her eyes. “Please, Lord. Open his heart and eyes so he can see—really see—that You haven’t abandoned him.”

  Abandoned.

  Dan studied the house, the yard. That’s how it all looked.

  Abandoned. Like Brumby hadn’t just run but never intended to come back again.

  He shouldn’t be here. Sheriff Grayson had made it clear: The investigation of the shootings was out of Dan’s hands. He wasn’t involved.

  Dan’s lip curled. Not involved. Get real.

  He pulled a penknife from his pocket, slicing the police tape on the front door of Brumby’s house. Pushing the old door with his shoulder, he walked inside. But what he saw didn’t make any sense.

  The dogs’ food dishes were there, half full, food scattered around on the floor. His gaze came to the table in the middle of the cluttered room. It was clear now, but he’d read the police reports from that terrible day. The deputies found a plate of partially eaten eggs and toast, a cup half full of tepid coffee.

  The conclusion the deputies reached was a reasonable one: Brumby had been sitting there, eating his breakfast, when he heard the kids’ voices outside. True to his threat, he’d grabbed his gun. Gone outside. Probably hadn’t even yelled a warning before he fired.

  Shannon and Aaron didn’t even know what hit them.

  For just a fraction of a second, the hard shell of ice that had formed around Dan’s heart cracked

  “No.”

  He gritted his teeth, forcing the feelings back. Embraced the numbness that kept him together.

  Good thing Annie wasn’t here. She’d been watching him with those hawk eyes of hers, seeking any sign of emotion from him. She thought he needed to let his emotions out. To feel.

  She was wrong.

  He didn’t have time for feelings. He had a job to do: catch James Brumby. That was all that mattered.

  Another quick look around the room told him nothing had changed since he’d been here a week or so ago. He’d come today hoping to see signs of someone rummaging through the garbage, of things being moved.

  Something—anything—that hinted Brumby was still around.

  Instead, he just found further confirmation that the man was long gone. Probably for good.

  Kicking trash out of his way, Dan walked to the back door. He pushed it open, walking out into the junk heap that Brumby called a backyard—a narrow strip of fenced-in grass between Brumby’s back door and the woods bordering his property. Gnawed bones from the butcher were scattered around, along with chewed-up plastic water dishes and dried piles of dog refuse. Clearly this area was the boys’ domain.

  There had to be something he’d missed. Something they’d all missed.

  Nothing.

  He walked to the back of the yard, his steps careful, and inspected the six-foot fence. The wood was old, weather beaten, in sad need of a new coat of paint. Dan scanned the rough surface—then stopped.

  What was that?

  Daylight shone through a fine crack from the top of the wood to the bottom. Was a panel of the fence separated from the rest? Placing his hand against the wood, Dan pushed, and sure enough, the panel in front of him fell back onto the ground.

  Apparently Brumby had made a gate in his fence. But why?

  Dan stepped through, searching the tangle of brush, blackberry bushes, and woods. Blackberries were everywhere out here, so Dan wasn’t surprised to see walls of twisted vines behind the fence. The blackberry thicket was almost six feet high and probably five foot or more deep. Dan walked along the fence, senses heightened, alert to anything out of the—

  There.

  A thick section of what seemed to be dried bushes and brush, piled in front of the blackberry thicket. Dan grabbed branches, pulling the brush free, muttering as vines caught and punished his bare hands. He grabbed a large pile, jerked it free—and stared.

  What on earth?

  It looked as though someone had been living back here. They’d hacked a little alcove out of the thicket, creating a kind of vine cave. But with vines full of thorns all around? That could not be comfortable.

  Dan stepped closer, pulling his flashlight free and shining it into the dark indentation. This was no hideout.

  It was a lab.

  A meth lab. Or the remains of one.

  Piles of trash littered the ground. Empty antifreeze containers. Smashed packaging from cold and allergy pills and Epsom salts, propane tanks, bottles with rubber hoses stuffed in them, pillowcases stained red. Patches of stained, dead vegetation bore mute evidence of someone dumping chemicals.

  Dan stepped back and keyed his shoulder radio. “Jasmine, come in.”

  She was on the air in a flash. “Yo, Chief. What’s up?”

  “You’d better contact the sheriff and tell him to get on up here to James Brumby’s place.”

  “You’re at ol’ man Bru
mby’s? But I thought the sheriff told you—”

  “Jasmine. Let me worry about Sheriff Grayson. Just call him. And DHS. Tell him I need them here, too.”

  “DHS?” That stopped her. Dan didn’t call them out very often, but the Department of Human Services was responsible for cleaning up meth labs.

  “Call ’em, Jasmine. Now.”

  “You got it, Chief. Over and out.”

  “Justice, out.”

  He lowered his hand then turned to study the abandoned lab again.

  “Brumby, you old fool. What did you get yourself into?”

  Annie jerked awake.

  “What? What did you say?” But the words that had called to her, pulled her from sleep, were mere wisps of sound, vanishing in the air.

  With a moan, she rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. At first, she couldn’t figure out where she was. Then it came back … she was at her brother’s house, lying on his couch. She’d been praying. She must have drifted off into a deep slumber.

  Swinging her legs to the floor, she barely missed knocking against Kodi, who sat in front of her. What’s wrong? her amber eyes seemed to ask.

  Annie leaned forward. “I’m fine, Kode. Relax. I’m fine.”

  Kodi was so tuned in to Annie, it was unsettling at times. But that was one reason they did so well in search and rescue. When they were working, they operated almost as a single unit rather than human and dog.

  Kodi scooted closer and laid her snout on Annie’s leg. Clearly, she didn’t believe Annie’s assurances. It figured. Annie was still shaking from … from …

  She frowned. From what? A dream? She stood, picked up her now-empty mug, and went to set it in the sink. Kodi followed, leaning her shoulder into Annie as she walked. Annie shoved back with a knee.

  “Stop it, you worrywart. I’m fine.”

  It had taken major effort for Annie to break the shepherd of those herding instincts when they worked. But when they were at home, it was a lost cause. When Kodi was excited or worried, she tended to throw body blocks. Annie had to watch herself, because Kodi didn’t realize her own bulk—or strength. She’d sent Annie flying a couple of times.

  She smiled. It was a small price to pay for a dog like Kodi.

  Another nudge, this time from Kodi’s snout, told Annie the dog was still uneasy. Crouching in front of the sink, Annie framed the dog’s face with her hands. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  Kodi sat, staring at her mistress, the question still very evident: What’s wrong?

  Annie didn’t deny it this time. She stroked Kodi’s long black snout. “I don’t know. Something woke me. Somebody was talking to me. Telling me something … important. I think.”

  She shook off the odd feeling trying to settle over her and stood. “Maybe I just need more sleep.”

  The ringing of the phone made both Annie and Kodi jump. Annie grabbed the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Annie? It’s Shelby. Shelby Wilson. I … I’m sorry to call again. I tried Dan’s cell phone and work phone, but … well, either he’s not getting my calls, or he’s just not retur—” She stopped and took a deep breath. “Never mind. Is he there?”

  Annie glanced at the clock. One-thirty? It was later than she’d realized. Dan should be home by now for lunch, but Kodi would have awakened her if he’d come in. Why hadn’t he called?

  “No, Shelby, he’s not here. But he should be soon.”

  She was silent for a moment then let out a long breath. “Listen, Jayce is in trouble. Jayce Dalton, the boy—”

  “I know who Jayce is.” Shannon had talked of little else those last few months of her life.

  “Oh. Anyway, he’s in trouble, and Dan is the only one who can help.”

  As Shelby spoke, Annie felt something stirring inside her. An odd sense of excitement. “Would you mind filling me in?”

  As Shelby did so, certainty settled over Annie like a warm woolen cloak. Dan was supposed to save Jayce Dalton.

  How, Annie didn’t have a clue. Considering that Dan had cut the boy off even more completely than anyone else. But that didn’t matter. God had the how well in hand. All Annie had to do was her part.

  “Shelby, listen, when do you need to know Dan’s answer?”

  “The sooner, the better.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “That’d be great.” Surprise mixed with relief in Shelby’s response.

  “Dan will call you tomorrow.”

  Hanging up, Annie stood there, hand resting on the phone. Time to call in the cavalry. Lifting the receiver, she dialed her sister’s number.

  Kyla spoke before Annie had the chance even to say hello. “I wondered when I’d hear from you.”

  “Oh? Why is that? No, wait, first tell me how you knew it was me.”

  She chuckled. “Caller ID, silly.”

  Annie smiled. “Yes, but it’s Dan’s number showing.”

  “And Avidan is working. So knowing you’re still there …”

  “Fine. Now, why have you been wondering when I’d call?”

  “Well, I’ve been up since about five-thirty this morning, praying. I woke up with this feeling hanging over me that something was going on, and I figured it had to be about Avidan.”

  Annie explained Shelby’s phone call and request. Kyla didn’t hesitate. “I’ve got a friend with a plane. He told me he’d fly me down anytime it was necessary.”

  “It’s necessary.”

  “I’ll be there in a few hours.”

  “See you soon.” Annie set the receiver back in the cradle. “Well, this should be interesting, huh, Kodi-odio? Dan’s being called to help Jayce. But I think it’s more than that. I think he’s going to save Jayce. And you know what?”

  Kodi cocked her head, ears perked.

  “If Dan does this, if he listens to his heart and does what’s right, I have a feeling Jayce may very well turn around and save Dan.” Annie smiled. “Wouldn’t that be something?” She clapped her hands. “And wouldn’t Shannon be tickled?”

  Kodi’s bark voiced her exuberant agreement.

  TWENTY-SIX

  “In some way, it is natural for us to wish that God

  had designed for us a less glorious and less arduous destiny;

  but then we are wishing not for more love but for less.”

  C. S. LEWIS

  “Then one day I went into your sanctuary, O God …

  I realized how bitter I had become, how pained I had been

  by all I had seen. I was so foolish and ignorant—I must have

  seemed like a senseless animal to you. Yet I still belong to you.”

  PSALM 73:17, 21–23

  DAN KNEW SOMETHING WAS UP THE MINUTE HE GOT home.

  For one thing, Kyla was there. Not that she couldn’t visit, but coming all the way from Portland without telling him first … well, that didn’t bode well. Besides, with the demands of overseeing the family construction business their father started, Kyla didn’t usually take time off on the spur of the moment.

  Not unless something was wrong.

  For another thing, his sisters’ expressions. He could tell when they’d been “plotting.” He’d seen those looks far too many times in his life.

  Like the time Annie decided he should start dating a girl from next door, so she enlisted her older sister’s help and arranged a meeting by sending him and the girl notes, supposedly from each other—“MUST talk with you. Urgent! Matter of life and death!” Once he discovered what was going on, the only lives at risk that day were those of his beloved sisters.

  Then there was the time Kyla had been a senior in high school and wanted to borrow the car he’d saved a year to buy, then spent the next year restoring. Dan was clear: not in this lifetime. He should have known his sister’s capitulation came too readily. Sure enough, she got Annie to talk him into going for a walk with her. When they got home, his car was gone. Of course, Kyla returned it—with a dent in the front bumper.

  More times than he could cou
nt—or even remember—these two had conspired together to convince, sway, influence, or motivate him as they saw fit.

  From the looks on their too-angelic faces, they were at it again. Even the dog, lying next to Annie’s feet, looked like she had something up her furry sleeve.

  He planted his feet, crossed his arms, and fixed them with a stare. “Okay, what’s going on?”

  They scooched apart, making room for him on the couch between them. Annie patted the cushion. “Have a seat, big brother.”

  Dan pressed his lips together. Whatever they were up to, it had to be big. “I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind.”

  Kyla stood, Kodi following at her side, and came to take his arm. “As a matter of fact, Avidan, I do mind. Please, come sit down.”

  He resisted for a moment, then with a sigh gave in. Might as well hear what they wanted. The faster they told him about it, the faster he could say no. He let Kyla lead him to the couch. No sooner had he settled on the cushion than Kodi came to plop down on top of his feet.

  Dan wiggled his feet beneath the beast. So much for a quick escape. “Okay—” he looked from one sister to the other—“let’s hear it.”

  Annie jumped in. “Shelby Wilson called.”

  Dan stiffened. What was this? Annie knew he didn’t want to talk about Shelby.

  “Dan? Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah. Shelby called. What did she want?”

  “To talk with you.”

  He waited.

  “About Jayce Dalton.”

  At the name, emotions flooded Dan. Shame. Resentment. Frustration. Embarrassment. Regret. But he pushed them all way, keeping his stare bland. Noncommittal.

  Empty.

  “What about him?”

  Kyla joined in. “Jayce is in trouble, Avidan. He’s been picked up by the police. A gang of boys broke into the store at the Union Creek Lodge. Jayce was the only one they caught. He won’t say who broke in or what they were doing.”

  “He told the police he was just out walking and heard the glass break in the windows. Went to see what was happening. But the police believe he was standing watch.”

  A flash of concern burned through Dan, but that, too, was consigned to the edges of his awareness. Don’t look interested. Don’t let them think they’ve caught your attention.