Burnt River

by Karin Salvalaggio

  He opened his mouth to speak and Jessie threw him a warning glance.

  “I didn’t come down here to talk.”

  He pulled himself up onto the boulder and sat with his legs stretched out in front of him.

  They glanced at each other every few minutes, and each time Jessie shook her head. The shadows thickened and the silence grew deeper. She scooted farther up the rock and pressed her feet into the warm surface.

  “Crowds make me nervous.”

  “You don’t need to explain why you’re down here.”

  Jessie tossed a stone into the water. “I’m not doing too well.” She put her palm to her chest. “There’s so much pressure inside it hurts.”

  “Apparently it helps if you talk about it.”

  “I do talk. At least I try, but it’s like there’s this buffer between me and everyone else. I feel so numb sometimes I wonder if I’m still alive.”

  Jessie glanced back up toward the house. She could just make out the roofline. Sun was catching in the surrounding treetops. They looked like they were on fire.

  Dylan threw a pebble in the water. “At least you can be in a room with other people. I can’t even do that.”

  “You’re not missing much. Take it from me, the room is overrated.”

  “John would always tell me that it was going to get better. I just had to give it time.”

  “Did you believe him?”

  “I’ve seen too much shit to believe in much of anything anymore. If I learned anything in the army it’s that there are too many ways to hurt a man. A lot of them you can’t see.”

  “I dream about Ethan sometimes. I wake up trying to fight him off.”

  “I’m not going to lie. It may never get better.”

  Jessie picked her way over the boulders in her bare feet and sat down next to Dylan.

  “I’m going to tell you something and I need to know that you’re going to be understanding because it’s a little crazy.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “It’s about Ethan,” she whispered, suddenly afraid that saying it aloud might make it true.

  “Go on.”

  “What if he’s still alive?”

  “Is that what you’re thinking?”

  She dipped her head and her face was lost behind a veil of hair. She’d wanted to stay strong but she was crying again.

  Dylan touched her lightly on the arm. “You’re letting all those voices in your head get to you. Ethan is dead.”

  “What if we got it wrong? What if Ethan was still alive when the truck went in the lake?” Her voice cracked. “He could have gotten out.”

  “Why are you torturing yourself? He attacked you. You defended yourself. He’s dead.”

  Jessie fished the necklace out of the pocket of her dress. She’d been worrying the chain like prayer beads as she wandered through the crowds up at the house. It was tangled in knots.

  “You see this?” she said, holding it and watching the heart-shaped locket spin. “It was left gift-wrapped on the front porch this morning. There was a card with my name on it and nothing else. I thought I lost it in Ethan’s truck.” She opened the heart. “There’s a picture of Tara inside. It was the only thing that could tie me to Ethan’s death.”

  “Maybe someone found it in the picnic area.”

  “Then why not just give it back to me then? Why leave it on the porch while I was sleeping? Why not put their name on the card?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  “You can’t answer it because it doesn’t make any sense. I might be right. He could be alive.”

  “Where has he been all this time then? He would have been hurt. He couldn’t have walked away from something like that.”

  “Maybe he’s spent the last year recovering. He’d want revenge. John, me, you, Tyler. We’d all be on his list.”

  “You’ve been watching too many movies. Between them, John and Tyler have done eight deployments in Afghanistan and Iraq. They know when someone’s dead.”

  “But you didn’t see Ethan, did you? By the time you arrived they’d already put him in the bed of the truck. You’re the medic. You’re the one person who would have known for sure.”

  “You need to put this out of your mind. Ethan didn’t kill John. Someone else did.”

  She held up the necklace again. “Then explain this.”

  15

  Macy was lying in bed with her eyes closed. She’d thought she heard her son crying, but woke up to silence. She buried her face in the pillow. The fabric was rough and smelled like cigarettes. Her head throbbed. She was too warm. She kicked the blankets away and pried her eyes open. In the dim light she picked out grainy images. A framed print of a farmhouse and a flat-screen television hung side by side on the far wall. She wouldn’t have heard her son if he screamed. He was in Helena, and Macy was still several hundred miles away in a motel room in Wilmington Creek.

  She rolled onto her back. The bathroom door was ajar. Steam billowed into the room. Ray must have been very quiet getting out of bed. According to the digital clock on top of the minibar it was coming up to one in the morning. Macy searched the bedside table for her phone and found his instead. She scrolled through his messages and missed phone calls. Frowning, she threw the phone to one side and buried her face in the pillow again.

  Ray had appeared unannounced at her motel room door a little after ten. She’d been getting ready for bed and was in no mood for company. For a few seconds a security chain was all that had separated them. He’d smiled and she’d tried to do the same. As happy as she was to see him, there’d also been a familiar sinking feeling. No matter how good it would be to have him there, pain would surely follow.

  What are you doing here?

  I felt bad that I couldn’t talk last night. I needed to see you. I had to make sure everything was okay between us.

  “Need” is an interesting word choice.

  It’s been a long drive and I’m tired. I have to admit it’s all I’ve got.

  What about when I need you? It never seems to work both ways.

  He’d held up a bottle of wine. You can’t turn me away. I’ve brought a friend.

  I’m trying to spend less time with your friends.

  Now you’re talking nonsense.

  Ray, you can’t just pop into my life whenever you like. It’s not okay.

  Oh, come on. I’m in full view of Main Street. How long are you going to make me wait before you let me in?

  She had unhooked the chain, but shrugged away when he tried to kiss her. I keep hoping that someday I’ll be able to tell you to go to hell.

  Why do you say that?

  Because it’s true.

  I’ve missed you.

  I’ve missed you too. It doesn’t change anything.

  I’ll leave if you want me to.

  I wish it were that easy.

  Aren’t you the one who said, “If it’s too easy it’s not worth the trouble”?

  She’d lowered her voice to a whisper. You really should go to hell.

  He’d pulled her down onto the bed. Only if you promise to come with me.

  Ray stepped out of the bathroom and dressed with his back turned to her. Water seeped from his wet hair onto the collar of his dress shirt, leaving a thin, dark line along the edge.

  “I went to see an apartment yesterday.”

  “I’d say you could move in with me but I don’t think my mother would approve.”

  “How’s she finding looking after Luke full time?”

  Macy almost told Ray about her impromptu trip down to Kalispell to see her mother and Luke but kept it to herself.

  “Ellen loves it.”

  “But it must wear her down. You work pretty long hours.”

  “Don’t worry, Luke is well cared for.”

  “I’m not suggesting otherwise. I just wonder whether she’s getting enough support.”

  “We can’t all be stay-at-home moms. Someone has to pay the bills.”

  �
�I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Have you given any more thought to amending the birth certificate?”

  “I don’t think this is the right time to discuss it.”

  “It’s a simple court order. I thought you wanted Luke to have my last name.”

  “I never agreed to that.”

  “I don’t see why you’re so against it.”

  “Being alone in that delivery room may have something to do with it.”

  “How many times do I have to say sorry?”

  “How about I let you know when you get there?”

  He sat on the edge of the bed and Macy scooted forward so she could hold him from behind.

  “Don’t go,” she whispered.

  He kissed the inside of her wrist. “You know I don’t have a choice. Please don’t ask me again.”

  “It’s what I want. I’m not going to quit asking.”

  Ray mumbled a response as he bent forward to slip on his shoes. “Then don’t get upset when you don’t like the answer.”

  Macy got up and peeked through a narrow gap in the curtains. A man sat by himself at the end of the diving board with his legs dangling above the motel’s kidney-shaped swimming pool. It was too dark to make out his features. He drank what was left of his beer before standing. He bounced several times and the board creaked so loudly that Macy thought it might snap in two. He steadied it before turning his gaze toward her. Macy drew the curtains shut and shrank back into the room.

  She closed her eyes and tried to feel her way into the questions that always needed asking. “You said you spoke to your wife again. She hasn’t changed her mind about the separation.”

  Ray was standing, his silhouette backlit by the light coming from the bathroom. Beyond him she could see the fogged-over mirror.

  “That was the easy part,” he said, his eyes tightening. “Now, we have to tell the girls.”

  Macy crawled across the bed and handed him his phone. “Your wife has been trying to call you for the past three hours.”

  Ray held the phone up and squinted. “Don’t exaggerate. These aren’t all from her.”

  “But quite a few of them are.”

  “She’s the mother of my three children. There will always be something we need to discuss.”

  “I can’t forget what happened last time.”

  Ray put a hand on Macy’s knee and held it there. “Macy, you have to believe me. My wife and I are never getting back together again. It’s over.”

  Macy watched Ray’s eyes trace over the lines of text as he continued to read his messages. In the past few months he’d lost weight, and his hair, which was once graying at the temples, was now completely silver.

  “You haven’t told me what you think of Aiden Marsh. I hear he can be difficult.”

  “That’s not my experience so far.” She almost smiled. “He’s been very accommodating.”

  “Well, he might not be for much longer.”

  “Why? Has something happened?”

  “It’s hard to say. It may be related.”

  “Tell me.”

  “We’ve got someone working undercover in Wilmington Creek.”

  “What the fuck, Ray? If you’ve got someone on the ground here then I need to know about it. What do you think would happen if we bumped into each other in town? Do I even know them?”

  “You’re familiar with Lindsay Moore.”

  “Great. That’s just wonderful.”

  “I get it. She’s not your favorite person.”

  “As far as I can tell, she’s nobody’s favorite person.”

  “That’s out of line.”

  “Don’t you dare lecture me about what constitutes being out of line. What is she doing here, anyway?”

  “For the past six months, she’s been posing as a doctoral student doing research on the dramatic rise in militia groups since the last presidential election.”

  “Lindsay Moore is Patricia Dune?”

  “How do you know the name she’s been using?”

  “I know the name because it’s come up in the investigation. We’ve been looking for her. We want to know if she’s heard anything that might be related to the case. Jeremy Dalton has received a couple of threats. People think she’s been stirring things up with the militia groups with all her questions.”

  “She’s trying to get information on Ethan Green.”

  “I thought he was long gone.”

  “We did too, but remember that highway patrol officer in Missoula who got shot last summer? An informant identified Green as the shooter. The FBI are also saying they’ve got good intelligence that he’s re-forming his militia.”

  “Ray, sometimes you have a very short memory. You assigned me to the special task force set up to investigate that shooting. My name is on the report. We found no evidence that any of the militia groups were involved.”

  “Well, there have been some developments.”

  “Can you trust this informant of yours?”

  “We’ve used him before. He’s never let us down. When I sent Lindsay up here I was hoping she’d be able to flush Green out.”

  “Do you think he may have something to do with John Dalton’s murder?”

  “I heard there’s some bad blood between Green and Jeremy Dalton. Whether it became violent remains to be seen.”

  “What does Lindsay have to say about it? She’s on the ground here. As I recall, she usually has an opinion.”

  “That’s just it. Two days ago she dropped out of sight.”

  “When did you last speak to her?”

  “I guess it’s been a week since we last spoke, although I did get a message from her a few days ago. She said she had some new information, but didn’t go into details.”

  “You’re worried?”

  “I am. It’s not like her to be out of touch.” He handed Macy a set of keys and an address. “Tomorrow I want you to go by her place and have a look around.”

  “Why me?”

  “You’re here already.”

  “I’m in the middle of something else.”

  “Look, this is probably nothing, but please just do this for me. I need to know whether I should be worried.”

  Macy closed her hand over the keys. The week Lindsay transferred to the Helena office, Macy had come across her and Ray speaking in low voices outside the elevator. Their heads were bent in conversation and they were laughing at some private joke. There was an awkward silence as the three of them rode the elevator down to the lobby. In those few minutes, Macy’s mind had gone into overdrive. Ray and Macy had just started seeing each other again and she was paranoid. She’d glanced up at Lindsay’s reflection in the mirror. At nearly five foot ten and wearing heels, she was as tall as Ray. It didn’t help that she had ice blond hair and perfect posture. Macy had felt like a child standing next to them.

  Ray brushed the hair out of Macy’s eyes. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “True.”

  “I am sorry I have to leave.”

  “It kind of goes with the territory. You’re a married man.”

  “Separated.”

  “When you’ve moved out I’ll start believing that.”

  “There’s going to be some serious fallout.”

  “You need to move out and spend a year pretending to be on your own. It’s the only way this is going to work.”

  “Could you really handle that?”

  “I don’t feel we have a choice.”

  * * *

  Through a gap in the curtains, Macy watched Ray drive away. She shifted her gaze to the swimming pool, but the man on the diving board was gone. In the bathroom she stared into her image in the mirror. Other than the state of her hair there was little to indicate she’d been with Ray all evening. She stepped into the shower. The sense of vertigo she felt when he left her to go back to his wife and children always took her breath away. She was still light-headed when she shut the door to the motel room and went to find her car.
r />   Outside the air was cold, and overhead a haze of wood smoke blocked out the stars. Her state-issue SUV sat alone in the back parking lot. She stood in darkness adjusting her eyes. This could wait until morning. She pictured her empty motel room and knew she wouldn’t sleep. She’d lie awake trying to fix things in her head and end up with nothing to show for it in the morning. She checked she had Lindsay Moore’s house keys before striking out across the dark pavement. Beyond the car’s front bumper there was a high chain-link fence and a thin line of trees. Through the branches she could see a two-story home. She clicked the remote and headlights flashed as her car doors unlocked. Her eyes swept across the parking lot, searching the shadows. Something was moving toward her, but she couldn’t see where it was coming from. Leaves rustled and branches snapped. There was a low growl and a large dog launched itself from the other side of the chain-link fence. Its mouth gaped wide, revealing sharp white teeth that snapped at the empty air between them. Macy jumped into her car and locked the doors. In the upper rooms of the house, lights came on as she backed away. A man threw open a window and shouted down at the dog.

  The streets were deserted. She drove three blocks, took a right on Tucker Road, and kept going in a straight line for several miles. There were no streetlights this far out of town. The headlights picked up an occasional driveway and mailbox but little else. She couldn’t miss Lindsay’s home. It was on fire. Nearby trees swayed dangerously close to the flames. Jessie picked up the radio and talked to dispatch before putting in a call to Aiden. He didn’t sound happy to hear from her.

  “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  “You need to come meet me. We have a problem.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m at 517 Tucker.”

  “What are you doing all the way out there?”

  “At the moment I’m watching Patricia Dune’s house burn down.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Macy stared out into the night. The headlights just caught where the road came to a dead end at the Flathead River. There wasn’t any passing traffic and the closest neighbor was a quarter mile back in the direction of town. The house could have burned to the ground without anyone noticing. She swung open the car door and stepped outside. The heat was intense. The fire had almost consumed the front porch. Glass shattered as windows exploded. She walked the property’s perimeter, looking for a way in. There was only one section that wasn’t engulfed in flames. She pried off the window screens and used a rock to break the window. She had to scream to be heard.