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Long Way Home (Matthew Riker Book 3)

Page 20

by J. T. Baier


  “Well, I’m pretty darn fast on my crutches these days. It will almost be a shame to get the cast off.”

  “Maybe you could give me some tips. I hurt my leg the other day, and I’ve got some crutches myself.”

  “Yeah?” There was a hint of concern in her voice now. “Let me guess. Rugby injury?”

  “Something like that.”

  There was a long pause. “Riker, whatever it is you’re up to, I’m sure you have a good reason for it. I’m not going to ask you to be careful. But I will ask you to be smart.”

  Riker smiled again. They’d only known each other for a month, and yet she already saw right through to the heart of him. “I think I can do that. Listen, I’ve got to go. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  “And did it live up to your expectations?”

  “I’d say it exceeded them.”

  “It wasn’t entirely unpleasant to hear your voice as well. Maybe give me a call when you get back to North Carolina.”

  “You can count on it. Bye, Jessica.” He hung up and set the phone down on the passenger seat, promising himself he’d do everything he could to stay alive to make that phone call.

  He walked up to the house and pressed the doorbell. A moment later, the door opened and Patricia Kane stared out at him.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Hi, Mrs. Kane. I’m Matthew Riker. I was on your husband’s wrestling team a long time ago.”

  The woman’s expression softened. “I remember you. Oscar talked about you a lot. Both when you were on the team and after. He always thought it was a shame you weren’t able to accept that scholarship to the University of Iowa.”

  “No arguments there. I wish I could have.” It was something Riker thought about sometimes. Not often, as there was no reason to dwell on such things, but occasionally. How would his life be different today if he’d been able to follow the original plan? There would have been no Navy SEALs for him. No QS-4. Maybe his life would have been better for it. Maybe the world would be worse. Maybe Li never would have gotten home to her parents. Maybe Simon and Jessica would be dead. Such speculation was worthless, though. There was no way to know for certain.

  “It’s a little late, Matthew. I was getting ready to turn in. Was there something I could help you with?”

  “I just wanted to pay my condolences. I didn’t get to do so at the funeral. Coach meant the world to me. He changed my life, and I thought you should know. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  She nodded, her eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Thank you. It’s not the first such sentiment that I’ve heard today, but still means a lot. I can’t help but think how many more lives he might have touched if he hadn’t thrown his life away on that naive obsession of his.”

  Riker tilted his head in surprise. “Mrs. Kane, I know it might not seem like it now, but Coach didn’t throw his life away. What he did made a difference. It’s still making a difference. He stood up for what’s right, and that’s never a mistake.”

  “Perhaps,” she said carefully. “But I’d much rather have him be wrong and here beside me than right and dead in a box. If that’s selfish, then so be it.”

  “It’s not.”

  She gave him a long look. “There’s something else you want to say. I can tell.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he allowed. “It’s a difficult question.”

  “Son, I just buried my husband. I can do difficult. Ask away.”

  “I noticed there was a closed coffin at the wake.”

  She crossed her arms, her expression suddenly unreadable. “That’s not a question.”

  Riker hesitated. He felt awful broaching this topic with the victim’s widow, but he needed to know. Ever since Luke had told him the story of Coach’s death, something had been nagging at him, and he needed to know for sure. “I don’t know how to ask this delicately, so I’m just going to say it. I heard that Coach was shot. Was he shot in the head?”

  “That’s half right. He was shot twice, both in the head. The killer put a bullet through each of his eyes.”

  A chill ran through Riker.

  “Now will there be anything else? It’s late.”

  “No ma’am. Thank you. And once again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Patricia eased the door shut without responding.

  Riker stood on the darkened stoop for another moment, listening to the sound of her footsteps retreating into the house. It would be a long night for Patricia Kane, he knew. He doubted sleep would come easily for her.

  He turned and walked back to the car. It would be a long night for him as well, followed by a long morning tomorrow. With the information Mrs. Kane had just given him, Riker knew he had no choice but to survive the coming battle so that true justice could be done for Oscar Kane.

  37

  Eighteen years ago

  Matt stared out the window as the truck sped down the country road. He’d seen all of this—everything from the old barn they’d just passed to the broken warning light at the railroad crossing—a thousand times, and he was suddenly aware that this might be the last time he ever saw it. Kingsport had been a rough town to grow up in. He’d seen his share of hardship, especially recently. But it had also been home. And leaving home was never easy.

  “You know what Stephanie said when I told her where I was driving you today?” Luke asked. He was leaning back in his seat, one hand casually draped over the steering wheel and the other hanging out the open window. “She said I should get on that bus with you. You believe that?”

  Matt felt a sudden jolt of hope at the idea. Leaving was scary, and leaving to enlist in the military was even scarier. It would be very nice indeed to have a friend by his side. But he knew that would never happen. Luke’s future had been decided long ago. He’d stay in this town, work for his father for ten years or so, and then take over the business. That had always been the plan, and Luke had never pushed against it.

  “Not a bad idea if you ask me. The two of us in military uniforms? We step into any bar in San Diego and the ladies would be falling all over us.”

  Luke let out an abrupt laugh. “Right. You wanted me to join you, you should have signed up with a real branch of the military, like the Marines. The few, the proud, all that shit. I’d be down with that.”

  “Can’t be a SEAL in the Marines.”

  “Yeah right. Somebody from this town becoming a SEAL? Can you imagine that?”

  They drove in silence for a few miles, neither of them knowing what to say. The last two months had been intense, and the weight of the lie they’d shared hung heavy around both of their necks. But they’d stuck to their story. Self-defense. The inquiry that had followed had been terrifying; despite the way his family feared him, it turned out that Gary Riker had quite a few friends in Kingsport. Spending five nights a week in the bars will do that. These friends put enough pressure on the police that the district attorney hadn’t felt comfortable dropping the matter entirely. Matt’s public defender lawyer had ultimately worked out a deal. To avoid going to trial, Matt needed to plead guilty to involuntary manslaughter. Though the DA couldn’t technically force Matt to join the military, he made it clear that the options were military service or jail. The prison time would be waived if he agreed to enlist. Ultimately, the DA just wanted Matt out of town. He figured that would be enough to get all of Gary Riker’s lowlife friends off his back.

  Matt had considered the deal for only an hour before accepting. He’d signed the plea deal and kissed his hopes of wrestling for Coach Zalesky at the University of Iowa goodbye.

  In the month between signing the plea and graduating from high school, Matt had spent much of his time researching his upcoming career. Though it hadn’t been his decision to enlist, he intended to make the most of the opportunity. He’d serve his country with everything he had, and he’d do it on the toughest team of hardasses on the planet. With his dream of wrestling at U of I gone, he embraced a new dream. He wanted to be a Navy Seal.

  As the cou
ntryside rolled by, Matt considered how quickly his life had turned upside down. He’d gone from heavily recruited wrestler to the killer of his own father. Even though his dad’s death had been accidental and it had happened because Matt was protecting his mom, he still had trouble sleeping at night. He supposed he would for a very long time.

  “Coach came to see me yesterday,” Matt said. He hadn’t intended to share this with Luke, but for some reason, it just felt right.

  “Yeah?” Luke raised an eyebrow in surprise.

  “He told me he was proud of me for enlisting to serve my country.” Matt paused, glancing over at his friend. “I want you to know that I didn’t tell him what happened, but I did thank him. I thanked him for giving me the tools to stand up to a bully who was hurting my mom.”

  Luke gripped the wheel hard, staring at the road ahead of him. “Did you think he put it together? You don’t think he would tell—”

  “No. Never. Not Coach Kane.”

  Luke’s face was unreadable as he considered the news. He glanced down at his fuel gauge and let out a curse. “I gotta stop up here for gas.”

  Matt checked his watch. They had plenty of time.

  Ten minutes later, Luke pulled the truck into a Shell station. Matt hopped out and pumped the gas. He dug a ten out of his pocket and handed it to Luke.

  “You sure?” Luke asked.

  “Please. You’re driving. I can at least chip in for gas.”

  “I won’t argue. But if you’re buying, I’m flying.” He turned and headed into the gas station to pay for the fuel.

  Matt watched the numbers roll on the fuel pump as his mind wandered with thoughts of what the next few days would bring. Three days on a Greyhound bus to San Diego with boot camp waiting at the other end. For a boy who’d never been farther west than Kansas, that was a lot of unknowns. He couldn’t help but think of his mother’s parting words to him. “Goodbye, Matt. I’m not much of a letter writer so we probably won’t talk again for a while. Be safe.”

  “Riker.”

  The gruff, unfamiliar voice woke him from his thoughts, and he looked up. A short man was shambling toward him, slowly but purposefully.

  The man smiled when Matt looked up. “Yeah, I knew it was you. Matt Riker. Gary’s son.” He glanced to his left. “Told you it was him.”

  A second man, this one tall and thin, stepped around a beat-up old truck and glared at Matt. “What are you doing out here, son?”

  “Just pumping gas.” Matt’s voice sounded weak in his own ears. “On my way to enlist. Joining the Navy.”

  The shorter man raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “Is that right? You’re leaving us?” He glanced at his friend. “Guess this is our last chance to have a little talk with Matt.”

  The tall man nodded. “See Matt, we’re old buddies of your father’s, so we know Gary wasn’t big on reading the good book. I’m guessing you never had much in the way of a religious education.”

  “No, I guess I haven’t.” Matt suddenly realized the tall man had worked his way around to the other side of him so that the men were flanking him. The truck on one side, the fuel pump on the other and two men boxing him in. There was nowhere to run.

  “Well,” the tall man said, “let me give you a little education now. See, there are these things called the Ten Commandments. You might be especially interested in the sixth and the seventh. You know what those say?”

  Matt shook his head.

  The short man turned a bit, and Matt saw that he was holding a tire iron down next to his leg. “Honor your father and mother. And thou shalt not kill. Seems to me you broke both of those.”

  The men were inching closer now, and Matt was growing more desperate. His options were slim. Sure, he could charge one of the men, probably the short one, but how would the court feel about him being involved in another altercation? Would his plea deal suddenly go away? Wasn’t there something in there about no further violations for the next three years?

  The more he thought about it, the more Matt realized he was going to have to take a beating. He could only hope that they didn’t kill him.

  “The good book is clear,” the tall man said. “Justice must be done. The price must be paid.”

  “It must,” the short man agreed.

  “What the hell is all this?” Luke stepped around his truck, coming up alongside the tall man.

  The man didn’t take his eyes off of Matt. “Son, you are going to want to walk away.”

  “And why would I do that?”

  The short man lifted the tire iron, making sure both younger men could see it. “‘Cause if you don’t, you’ll get the same as your friend.”

  Luke considered that a moment. Then he shrugged. “I get that. You know Matt’s heading out of town, and you want to throw him a beating on his way out the door. It’s not like he can ever get revenge, right? He’ll be gone.”

  The two older men exchanged a glance.

  “It’s not like that,” the tall man said. “It’s about justice being done. We can’t let a killer go unpunished.”

  “The thing you didn’t consider is me,” Luke said, ignoring the man’s response. “See, I’m not leaving. Not ever. And if you lay your hands on me and my friend, I will not forget. In fact, I’ll make it my life’s mission to make sure you never forget either.”

  The tall man gave him an appraising stare. “That a threat? Trust me, kid, I’ve got more friends in this town than you do.”

  “Maybe. But are those friends there when you’re sleeping at night? Because I will be. You’ll wake up to me standing over your bed with a crowbar. That’s if you wake up at all.”

  The tall man flinched. His face flickered between disbelief and horror. “Kid, you don’t even know where I live.”

  “You’re right about that. I don’t even know your name.” Luke took a step toward him. “But here’s what you don’t understand. You might have more friends, but I have more time. I’m younger, I’m more diabolical, and I’ve got nothing on my schedule but finding out everything there is to know about you.” He paused. “Or we can just get on with our days.”

  The tall man stared at him for a long moment, then shook his head. “Let’s get out of here. These two assholes aren’t worth it.”

  Luke and Matt watched them until they pulled out of the gas station, and then they got back into Luke’s truck.

  Once they were back on the road, Matt let out the laughter he’d been containing since the two men walked away. “Dude, that was amazing!”

  “Please, don’t even give me that.”

  Matt suddenly realized that his friend wasn’t laughing. In fact, his face was as serious as he’d ever seen it.

  “I wouldn’t have done that for anyone else.”

  “I know. And I appreciate it. What you did for me with my dad, I won’t forget it, Luke. If you ever need anything, just call and I’ll come running. That’s a promise.”

  Luke shot him a smile. “You’ll be too busy making the world safe for democracy to think about me. You’ll forget Kingsport ever existed.”

  “Never going to happen.” There was earnestness in Matt’s voice. “Whether I like it or not, this will always be home.”

  “Damn right it will.”

  They pulled into the bus stop five minutes later. Luke got out and grabbed Matt’s duffle bag out of the truck’s bed and tossed it to him. Matt was surprised by how light it felt. Everything he owned in the world, and he could carry it with one hand.

  The two friends shook hands without a word. Matt headed into the station and Luke headed back into Kingsport. A new life awaited them both.

  They wouldn’t see each other again for eighteen years.

  38

  A cool wind blew across Riker’s cheeks as he looked out the second-story window of the old farmhouse. It had been a long night of preparations, and he’d somehow managed a few hours of sleep. But now the sun in the eastern sky announced that the day had arrived, and Riker knew that battle would soon be arr
iving to join it.

  One of Chief Myer’s men had spotted the caravan just west of town. Five large trucks, each carrying maybe as many as eight men. The officer had made no move to stop the men, just as instructed. He’d simply passed the message on to Chief Myers who had passed it on to Riker.

  Somewhere in the neighborhood of forty armed men were coming toward the farm that had served as the drug cartel’s production facility. Chief Myers and Officer Alvarez were at the station, the cartel’s likely secondary target. That left just Riker, Luke, and Donnie to defend the farm. It would have to be enough.

  Donnie was off in the woods somewhere preparing, but Luke stood next to Riker.

  Luke cast a nervous glance at the horizon. “What’s the over/under on us being alive an hour from now?”

  “Tough to say. But I like our odds of taking quite a few of these bastards with us.”

  Luke chuckled and shook his head. “I was really hoping for a motivational speech or something.”

  “Stick to the plan, and we have a shot at surviving. That’s the best I’ve got.”

  “Guess it’ll have to do.”

  Riker glanced over at his old friend. “Can I ask you something? How come you never took me up on my offer?”

  “What offer is that?”

  “The one I made on the day you dropped me off at the bus station. Remember what I said? If you ever need help, just call and I’ll come running.”

  “I didn’t even have your phone number.”

  “Yeah, but did you even try? Did you ask Megan if she had it? Or my mom when she still lived around here?”

  Luke’s expression answered the question for him.

  “So why didn’t you? When you realized you were in over your head with the drug cartel? I would have moved Heaven and Earth to help you.”

  “I know.” Luke’s voice was distant, as if he were thinking back to better days. “I considered it, but only briefly. Thing is, I guess I liked the idea of you remembering me like I was back then. Back when I took no shit. Back when I was free. I didn’t want you to see what I’d become.”

 

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