“‘Fraid so ma’am.” I just kept twisting the brim of my hat through my hands. “The Office of the Medical Examiner, in Salt Lake, confirmed it based on the dental records you supplied in the missing person’s report.”
“Not my Lane.” She started crying again. “Not my baby.”
I scooted up to the edge of the cushion. “I know this is hard right now, do you think you might be able to answer some questions?”
“I’ll try.” Hiccupping through her tears. “Can I ask you though, what happened to Lane? How’d he die?”
“We’re not right sure of that at this point.” No sense in telling her what we suspected…wouldn’t do anything to ease her at that point. “The O.M.E.’s report isn’t finished.” All our theories would do is give her more doubts to worry over.
“No.” Denying it, even though she knew she couldn’t, Liz bit her bottom lip and whined out. “This can’t be happening.”
I didn’t want to make her remember those last few days…even though I’m sure she recycled them in her mind probably a thousand times between then and now. Still, the more information we had right now, the faster we could give her some answers. “Can you think of anything else, things you might not have thought of when you filed the report about him going missing, that might help us here?”
“Like what?” She twisted the handkerchief between her fingers.
“How he was acting.” Although it might be putting things into her head, I asked, “Anything going on between him and Chris maybe.”
She stilled and looked up at me with a face so tight I could see the veins throbbing under her skin. “You think Chris did something to Lane?”
“No, ma’am,” I reassured her as best I could. “Right now, I just know your son ain’t coming home and one of his friends is still missing.” Spreading my hands, the hat in one, the other empty, I explained, “Just anything to try and piece together why he was up where we found him.”
“I, I cain’t, just no.” She folded her knuckles over the fabric and put the handkerchief up against her eyes. “I told you all everything.” Another set of sobs wound their way out of her chest. “Why Lane? What happened to him?”
“I don’t know, but I aim to find out.” I promised. There weren’t much else I could do right then so I stood up. Figured I’d worn out whatever welcome I had in situations like this. Mrs. Fellows, who’d likely been watching from just outta sight, came on into the room. “You’ll see that she’s okay until her family gets here?”
“Of course.” She offered me a sad smile as I let myself out.
When I stepped onto the porch I took a few lungfuls of cold mountain air to get my own emotions eased back down. Darn near impossible to watch someone else falling apart and not have it get under my skin. While I was settling down, a blue compact car pulled up and parked in front of my patrol vehicle.
A pretty enough girl, wearing an open parka over a uniform shirt with the logo of the local gas ‘n shop place, got out and headed towards me. “Deputy…” With a set of sad haunted eyes and more than a passing resemblance to Lane Walker, I figured it must be Trish.
Answering the unfinished question with my name, “Peterson,” I met her halfway up the walk. “Yes, miss?” She couldn’t have been no older than her brother.
“I’m Lane’s sister, Trish.” She tugged up the zipper on her parka then shoved her hands into the pockets.
“Figured as much.” I nodded and put my hat back on my head. “Your momma seems pretty upset.” I hooked one thumb through my duty belt and dredged up a little more out of my reserves of sympathy. “You want me to call anyone to come help y’all?”
“She really thought he’d come home.” Trish’s voice hitched and she kinda hugged her arms into her body. “It’s okay, my aunt’s already on her way over. Dad’s coming up from Salt Lake.”
I was ready to be gone, but I couldn’t leave. “You alright?” Not, at least, until I could be sure Trish could manage.
“No.” She looked like she wanted to cry, but wasn’t about to do it in front of me. “I kinda already faced this, I just knew.” She shrugged. “It was just a matter of y’all finding him.” Like she thought I might think it bad, her matter-of-factness, she rushed out an explanation. “We’re twins, you know. Lane would never have taken off and not called me. No matter what, if he were alive, he’d have let me know.”
“You were close then?” What I couldn’t get out of her mother, Trish might be in a better place to tell me.
“Yeah.” Nodding, she added, “We talked about everything.”
“I know this is going to sound kinda hard, but would Lane have told you if he was planning on, well, taking his own life?”
Her eyes went wide. “You think he committed suicide?”
“We don’t rightly know how he died, yet.” I reassured her as best I could. “We’re looking at all sorts of theories. This is just one of them.”
For a few minutes she stared off at the cold mountains sleeping under the snow. Then, almost fierce, she turned back to me. “Lane wouldn’t have done that. I mean, things weren’t perfect at home, but no, he wouldn’t have.”
Since she might not have seen the signs or might not have recognized what she did see for what it was, I prodded, “Did he start giving things away to friends? Talk about being sad? Did he seem down at all?”
“No.” Shaking her head, she denied it. “Actually he was really excited that week. He’d gotten his calling, his mission assignment was France. I’ve never seen him so happy.”
“He wasn’t scared or nervous.” I’d damn near pissed myself when I’d gotten my mission letter telling me I was off to some country I didn’t know nothing about.
“Oh, sure. Totally freaked out about what it was going to be like and would he like his missionary partner. Those kinda things.” A tight smile flashed at the memory. “But not so much that he’d do something awful like that.”
That made some sense and reassured me that Trish probably had a decent idea about her brother’s emotional state when he’d disappeared. Because they’d been twins, they’d likely known the same circle of kids. “Would you know how I could find some of Lane’s friends?” Be a lot easier on my time if she could tell me, rather than me having to spend a day on the phones tracking them down.
She thought for a moment. “Cooper and Alex are around.” Kinda chewing her lip while thinking, she clarified that bare statement. “Alex is still in school, senior, and Cooper works at the sawmill, I think, since he graduated. He’s eighteen so he’s got a year before he gets his call.” After another pause, Trish shrugged again. “I think Trey went to Provo maybe a week ago. I forget where he’s going on mission. I haven’t seen much of them really, since Lane and Chris disappeared.” She’d pretty much run through the list of boys I had in my file.
“Thanks, that’ll help me.” It was time for me to head on home. “I should be getting along.” I was going to have a rough enough night of it, reading on some scripture and trying to make sense of the plan Heavenly Father had for us all in this. The longer I stayed, the harder it’d be.
Trish reached out and caught the sleeve of my jacket as I started to pass. “Can I ask you, I know I’m not his family, but did you find Chris too?”
I stopped. “No, miss, we didn’t.” I couldn’t give her much comfort, but I could give her my time.
“His folks are pretty torn up. His dad’s kinda an asshole, but didn’t mean he didn’t love him.”
“You knew Chris pretty well?” I tried to put more sympathy than interrogation into my tone.
“Yeah, we all grew up together.” She pointed off towards some houses, maybe a mile down the way. “That’s his folks place up the road. We dated a little in high school.” Almost as an afterthought, she added, “It didn’t go real well.”
“Would he and Lane have fought about that?”
“Oh, no, that was ancient history, like junior year.” If that were history for a girl all of nineteen…I let the thought
drop because she kept talking. “And it wasn’t like we weren’t friends after. He just seemed to want a girlfriend because everyone else did and we were already friends. So, no, that was long over.”
I unzipped my jacket enough to reach into my left chest pocket and pull out one of my business cards. “Look, I know your momma’s in bad shape, but I’m going to give you my card and if you think of anything or anyone in the family remembers something, give me a call, okay?” I handed it over to her. My name, badge number and the department phone were all there.
“Yeah.” She took it and tucked the card into her back pocket. “I will.”
Now, I could get on home. “You take care of yourself, okay.” I touched the brim of my Stetson in sorta a goodbye and turned around.
I made it almost to the door of my vehicle when Trish called out. “You know I signed it.”
That made me pause. “Signed what?” I had no clue what she was on about.
Both hands tucked in her rear jeans pockets, Trish shuffled from one foot to the other. “When that mess was happening in California, I went on the website and put my name with everyone else, you know telling the President that it wasn’t right for the church to do that.” Oh Lord, the girl was talking about the open letter to the President of the LDS. I’d seen it go ‘round in some circles, you know, protesting that we all, Mormons, ought not to be in that fight and it was high time the Church came into the light and dropped that prejudice. Why Trish thought she needed to tell me I didn’t quite know. Then next words outta her mouth sorta set me straight on that. “I don’t think it’s right what they did to you either. They got it wrong…it’s not wrong.”
I don’t know what she expected me to say to that. “It ain’t but what it is.” Maybe Trish thought if she told me how she felt, then I might, I don’t know, treat the case better.
“I just thought…I’m glad you’re handling this. You’ll find out what happened to Lane, right?”
Sometimes, no matter how hard you tried, it just weren’t possible. Still, I gave her the best promise I could. “I’ll try my best.”
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 9
For the first time, in a long time, I regretted giving Kabe a key to my place. My heart sank a little when I pulled up and saw his truck out front. I just weren’t in the mood for being around nobody, not even him. All I wanted was to collapse in my old recliner, look at some stupid comedy on the TV and let my brain go to mush. Somewhere along in the evening a hot shower would be followed by some scripture reading and then I’d probably hit bed without eating. It’s how I usually dealt with having a black day on the job.
‘Cause I didn’t really want to face him or questions about why I was home earlier than normal, I drew out the normal packing things away. Figured I needed to clean my riot-gun…I hadn’t had call to use it in, well, forever, but hauling it around in my patrol vehicle with dust and humidity and all meant it needed babying. That meant I had to unload it…and figured I might as well do it out here as in there…with Kabe.
After I unhooked the shotgun from the locking brace between the front seats, and made sure the safety was on, I pointed the weapon at the ground and made sure there weren’t a live round in the chamber. Not that I rode around with it like that, but you always checked whether a weapon was loaded. Then I settled the butt of the stock on my hip and used my free hand to cradle the shotgun.
Pulled back all the guards until I saw the round in the magazine tube. Slow and easy I eased everything open until all the rounds in the magazine came sliding out into my palm. Took me only a short bit of time, but long enough that it set me to wondering where in the heck Kabe was. If’n he’d heard me or seen me, he’d have been out on the porch starting in with a round of twenty questions.
After I buttoned up my patrol vehicle, I shouldered the shotgun and headed up on the porch. Soon as I hit the second step, I realized I was gonna have to buy me some blinds or something. ‘Cause I could see right through into the front room. Kabe had some kinda three-way porn going on the TV, although I could tell he weren’t listening to it…little white lines crossed his cheeks telling me he had earbuds in his ears. Eyes closed, head tipped back over the backrest Kabe sat in my recliner with his jeans down around his ankles and messing with himself.
There he sat, rubbing his junk through his shorts. A hard outline of that long fine prick of his teased me. I could see a bit of wet darkening right where the tip of it strained against the red cotton of his briefs. All caught up in it, Kabe shifted his butt out a bit. Then he pulled the leg band over to free up his dick. I don’t know why, but the sight of him almost, but not quite, trussed up…I got a run of chills from my ass to my elbows at that. After a couple more caresses of his warm skin, Kabe reached under and pulled his balls out as well. The fabric cut right across the side of ‘em, making those furry weights all tight.
Had to shift my own dick over a notch as it followed his excitement.
Now, I know I don’t get a lot of unexpected company, but folks did occasionally come around. Sometimes that boy was dumber than a sack full of hammers. I raised my hand to pound on the window and give him a fright. Then I thought better of it. I mean, there weren’t no one around right then. So, quiet, easy, I got off the porch and walked around to the back of the house. Tucked myself over a couple of more times on the trip ‘round. Each time my own dick told me it weren’t near satisfied with that contact. I unbuckled my duty belt as I went. Wouldn’t do to have that thing jangling. Got my key ring off and tucked the belt under my arm.
Never used to lock my place, back when, but a few incidents since all the fire reigned down this summer started me on the habit. Slid the key in the door and turned so, so slow. Just a tiny twist and the bolt clicked open. Didn’t echo as much back in the little mudroom than it would have up front with the big open space.
As I slunk into the house, I eased my duty belt onto a pile of shirts and such sitting on top of the washer back there. Didn’t tiptoe, but I think I could have given a cat a run for its money on being quiet. I kept close to the wall that framed in the pantry and bath, heading towards the corner where the kitchen space opened out onto the living room. Managed to get right up to the corner; if he turned, he’d see me.
He was still there. Still wrapped up in himself, as it were. His shoulders twitched. And he sucked in a breath. The sound of it sent shudders crawling up my spine. My blood started to pound heavy down and through my hips remembering how his face looked just a moment ago. Licked my lips, ‘cause I’d thought of something a heck of a lot better to watch and take my mind off a pisser of a day than a stupid sitcom.
Couldn’t see much of his upper half—nothing of his face, maybe the edge of his shoulder—but the angle where I stood and the chair face let me see most of what he did to himself. Kabe twisted his fist around his dick. Up and down. All shiny and slick, guessed he must have used something to grease himself up. He’d move from jacking up and down and then twist his fist around the head of his prick a few times. Then he gripped it tight in his fist and started pumping. I could see his pecs tighten up every so often, when they came in view for just a second, like a chill ran up his spine. He reached down and grabbed his nuts, squeezing them as he jacked. Slowly pulling his hand up to roll his fist over the head of his dick.
Still had the shotgun slung over my shoulder. Don’t know why I hadn’t set it with the rest of my junk. I reached out, was gonna ease it onto the counter when a seriously sinful thought popped up into my head. Kept it in my hand and, quiet as coyote on the prowl, I snuck up behind the chair. Kabe was so caught up in getting himself off, I probably could have two stepped on over with spurs on my boots and he’d never have heard.
Got up behind him. Didn’t even want to breathe. Cat quick I slung the barrel longways, right under his chin. Hooked up against Kabe’s throat and tugged back just a little. “Entertaining yourself there, boy?” I barked it out as I raised the metal up, tilting his head back, until his eyes met mine.
The whole length of blue black barrel cut under his chin, with just enough of a shine to reflect a hint of his skin. I tugged it back toward me so’s I could look down along the line of his chest and see his hands. “Don’t stop what you were doing.” I growled. “Look here in my eyes and make me hot.”
About two seconds of terror shot through his gaze. Then, oh my Lord, he bellowed. Came about half up outta the chair with his thrashing. Had to move the shotgun back or I’da throttled him.
Don’t think I’d ever seen anyone move so quick. Kabe slithered outta my chair and onto the floor yanking up his pants as he moved. I couldn’t help it. I started laughing. My boy looked like a deer who’d just looked up and seen an eighteen-wheeler bearing down the road at ninety miles per hour.
He scrambled back. All the while he’s yelling a stream of, “Goddamn! Fuck! Shit! Asshole!” Actually the asshole started about two rounds in; once he finally calmed down a notch or two and realized he knew who I was.
He focused on me and stuttered out, “Fucking shit, Joe!” Kabe reached up with one hand and yanked the headphone cord, pulling the earbuds outta his ears. “Goddamn not funny!”
Managed to gasp out, “Yeah, actually it is,” through my laughing. The shotgun was fun for all of a moment, but I knew that game were right dangerous. I kinda leaned over and slid the shotgun off on the arm of the couch away from us. Didn’t cut back the laughs none, but did play it safe. I laughed enough that I was having a little trouble breathing. I propped my butt on the arm of my recliner and then sorta slid over it so I landed sitting in the warm spot Kabe’d vacated.
“You sorry sack of shit!” Kabe held up his jeans with one hand as he got up off the floor. “You son of a bitch!”
“Oh, come on, boy.” I pointed out the window. “You’re giving a show to the neighbors.”
He stumbled over and glared down at me. “Dude, what neighbors? You live a mile and a half from the only other house up on this road.”
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