He answered the door in jeans and a T-shirt. His feet were bare and his hair was still soaked through. He apologized for the mess and invited her in.
She ran her eyes over the sparsely furnished front room. “I wouldn’t call this messy.”
There was a single black-and-white photo of a landscape hanging over a leather sofa. The kitchen counters were bare, but case notes were spread out on the dining room table. In the center was a topographical map. She moved toward the table and looked down at it. An area south of Darby Lake had been highlighted with yellow marker. Several roads were marked with different-colored pens. Aiden stood so close their arms were touching. She could feel his breath on her neck. He traced a line between Route 93 and Lacey Truman’s property.
“Truman has a forty-three-acre plot that borders the state park. The only access is via a logging road.”
“Do we know anything else?” she said, leaning in for a closer look. “It would be helpful if we had the layout of the property.”
“The owner has a deep mistrust of the authorities. Jeremy Dalton is handling the negotiations. Last I heard, they were offering him money.”
She turned and caught him watching her.
“Do we have a file on him?”
“He’s never had any trouble with the law. I checked out his Web site. It’s the usual antigovernment stuff but it’s well written, which makes a change. He has a lot of combat experience and hires himself out to various groups as a consultant. Runs training programs in disaster preparedness, war games, that sort of thing. He’s also a card-carrying member of Mensa.”
“Let’s hope he’s smart enough to cooperate,” she said, pulling her hair into a ponytail. It was starting to stick to the back of her neck. “How does Tyler know him?”
“They served together in Iraq.”
“Anything come back from the other properties?”
“We’re checking them all. Two of the meth labs were still active. The compounds are proving trickier to approach. We’re using known contacts to negotiate access. The last thing we want is to pick a fight with these guys if we don’t have to.”
Macy tapped the map with a pen. “He’d be pretty hemmed in if he chose to take a stand at Lacey Truman’s house. It looks like it’s built into the ridge.”
“He’ll count on us not knowing about it.”
“Don’t be too sure. Underestimating Tyler is what got us into trouble in the first place. Has anyone managed to speak to Sarah Reed?”
“She’s not picking up her cell phone, and Dylan’s aunt hasn’t heard from her in months. We’re checking Sarah’s phone records.” He gestured toward the kitchen. “Do you want some coffee? I could make a fresh pot.”
His arm was against hers again. She was trying to decide if he was doing it on purpose.
“I don’t know. I feel like maybe I should leave.”
He tilted his head. “You just got here.”
She slid her fingertips across the back of his hand. A lattice of veins wove their way up the length of his bare arm. He had a tattoo of a Celtic cross on his bicep. She couldn’t raise her voice above a whisper.
“I don’t know what this is.”
“That makes two of us.”
She kissed him softly on the lips and curved her body to meet his. Beneath his thin shirt, his back was warm and smooth. Drops of water fell from his wet hair and ran down her cheeks, pooling in the hollows, leaving tracks across her skin. His lips lingered at her throat and his fingertips grazed her neck. He pulled off her shirt and dipped down to kiss the soft skin above her breasts. She didn’t see the empty walls and untouched moving boxes as he carried her through the house. The bedroom was dimly lit and the bed unmade. They fell into it together and peeled off layers until there was nothing left but flesh. Moonlight bled through the blinds. A fan hummed in the corner. The digital clock read 11:33 P.M.
24
Jessie stared up into the twist of tree limbs. Jagged patches of starlit sky filtered through the leaves. The grass was cool on her back. Through the screen door she could hear Jeremy and Wade taking turns talking on the speakerphone in the kitchen. The man on the other end of the line sounded like his voice had been mined in a gravel pit. Lacey Truman took some convincing. It was only after Jeremy offered him money that he started to cooperate. They’d been haggling over a number ever since. Ray Davidson was with them, but she had yet to hear him utter a single word. He was communicating with handwritten notes so Lacey wouldn’t know law enforcement was monitoring the call. Jeremy’s voice rose and fell depending on progress. The volume swelled whenever he started to lose patience. Earlier he’d stomped out onto the porch and smoked a cigarette he bummed out of Jessie’s pack with a promise that he’d buy her more if she promised not to tell Natalie.
You okay? he had asked.
She’d raised her hand to shade her eyes from the porch light. I’m not sure.
I meant what I said earlier. I want us to make a fresh start.
I know you do.
I’m afraid though. I don’t want things to ever go back to the way they were.
I’m not going to lie to you. Sometimes I want to go back. Especially now.
You know no good will come of it.
I was thinking that maybe I need to go to that rehab center you sent me to a few years ago. Just for a while, until everything calms down.
If that’s what you want to do, I’ll make the arrangements.
Wade had called Jeremy back into the kitchen. He’d stubbed out his cigarette with the heel of his boot before heading in.
Jessie, maybe you should go to bed. Some rest will do you good.
That’s not a good idea. It’s better to be down here with everyone else.
When did you last check on Tara?
A half hour ago. She was sound asleep.
Now she heard footsteps coming along the porch. A figure moved through the shadows. A firm step followed by a slightly hesitant footfall. She could see the glow of his cigarette. Dylan had started smoking again too. He settled into one of the rattan chairs and rested his bad leg on a low table. For a while neither of them spoke.
She rolled over onto her belly and looked up at him. He had a beer in one hand and his cigarette in the other. His eyes were shut. She threw a pebble and it hit the wall next to his head.
“Did you know?”
He opened his eyes and took another pull on his cigarette before stuffing it into the neck of his beer bottle. Apparently, he’d had enough of both. He spoke through a cloud of smoke.
“I swear I didn’t.”
She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “All this time I thought I killed Ethan, and John didn’t say a word. He must have known what it was doing to me.”
“I suspect Tyler kept him quiet.”
“Could they have it wrong about him?”
“I don’t see how. There are witnesses. He’s got Lana.”
“I mean the part about killing John.” Her voice cracked. “Tyler loved John.”
“Apparently, he loved Lana even more.”
“That’s too twisted to be called love.”
“Tyler isn’t who I thought he was.”
“I could say the same for my brother. He should have told us the truth.”
“I’m trying to imagine what kind of leverage Tyler may have had and I’m coming up with nothing. Something must have happened over in Afghanistan.”
“How come you didn’t know Tyler was back in Georgia all this time?”
“I’m not really in touch with anyone. I don’t check my e-mail. I don’t return calls.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
“It’s not.”
“So do you think Sarah is with Tyler?”
“I hope not, but given how she felt about him…”
“It wasn’t mutual.”
“She didn’t care. She just wanted to be with him.”
“She’s so beautiful. She could have anybody.”
“Is
the stuff that matters ever really just about that?”
“I suppose not. Will you stay with us for a while?”
He grimaced as he shifted his weight. “We’ll see. It makes sense for now.”
“I’m going back into rehab for a bit. It would be nice if you were here with Tara,” she said, fumbling with the thin plastic wrapping on a fresh pack of cigarettes. “Lately, I feel like I’m slipping all the time.”
“We’re a couple of head cases, aren’t we?”
“That’s probably why we get along.”
“Just so you know, I might be going away for a couple of months as well. The VA wants to send me to a place out in California where they’re developing a new treatment for PTSD. I read the brochure. Seems like a bunch of hippie shit to me, but what the hell.”
She broke off a dandelion and twirled it in her fingertips. “Maybe you’ll get to wear flowers in your hair while you practice yoga.”
“More likely it will be a bunch of vets screaming at each other in a locked room while a counselor hides under the table.”
“I’ve been in that room. Just substitute addicts for vets.”
“It’s going to be hard to face all that again.”
“Will you go anyway?”
“I think I better. I know I’m lucky to be offered a place. Feeling this way forever isn’t an option.”
“If you ever want to talk, I’m always here.”
“We could share war stories.”
“At least you remember yours.”
“No offense, but it seems like you did a lot of things that are best forgotten.”
“It would be nice to know who Tara’s father is. I probably slept with him to get drugs, but you never know. Maybe it was more than that.”
“Well, at least your war stories involve getting laid.”
“Is that your idea of looking on the bright side?”
“Yep. That’s all I got.” He smiled.
“Do you really think Tyler is heading to Lacey Truman’s property?”
He hesitated before answering. “Hard to say. He told me about it, so—”
“What do you mean by so?”
“He’s relying on me to keep my mouth shut. I can’t believe he thinks I’d cover for him after everything he’s done.”
“Warped sense of loyalty.”
“Maybe.”
“They seem to be looking all over the valley for him.”
“I hope they find him. I want to look that fucker in the eye again. He’s got a lot of explaining to do.”
“He’s killed a cop. They are bringing in SWAT teams and half the state’s law enforcement to hunt him down. There’s a lot of people who want him dead.”
“The thing about the cop doesn’t make sense, though. As far as I know, he was with John the afternoon she went missing. In fact I’m sure of it, ’cause John talked to me later that night. He had no reason to lie.”
“He wasn’t lying. I saw them together. They were repairing some fencing out on the eastern boundary.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve said anything to the police.”
“I’m not doing Tyler any favors. He’s got too much to answer for.”
He hesitated. “Did he really get you started?”
She tapped her cigarette onto the rim of a clay pot. “He was the first of my many dealers.”
“All those times you went off with him. I thought there was something going on between you two for a while.”
“It was never like that.” She looked up at the night sky and caught sight of a shooting star. “I hope Lana’s okay.”
Dylan cocked his head toward the kitchen door. “It’s gone quiet in there. Do you think they finally struck a deal?”
“Last I heard, they were offering him thirty grand for the layout of his property.”
“Christ, that’s a lot of money.”
“That guy who gave the press conference showed up an hour ago.”
“That would be Ray Davidson. I think he’s the captain of the state police.”
“I heard him on the phone as he was walking up to the house. I think he was arguing with his wife.”
“I imagine he doesn’t make it home for dinner too often.”
“He looks familiar to me. I can’t place him though.”
“Probably from the news.”
“Maybe.” She rolled over on her side. “Do you remember the necklace I told you about? Do you suppose Tyler left it for me?”
“It had to be him.”
“But why would he do that? It makes no sense.”
“Maybe it was his way of saying sorry.”
She shivered. “We never really knew him.”
“Up until a couple hours ago I was mourning his death. I keep forgetting I’m supposed to hate him now.”
“I know what you mean.”
He yawned. “I think it’s been three days since I slept.”
“Go to bed. I’m fine out here on my own.”
He set his mouth into a hard line and pushed up from the chair. “If you hear anything, come get me.”
“I’m too tired to walk all the way over to Wade’s. Remember to leave your phone on.”
Jessie moved onto the chair Dylan had vacated and wrapped up in a blanket that was thrown over the back. The conversation with Lacey Truman had finished and the men in the kitchen were waiting for a computer file he was sending them with the layout of the property. The house was built into the ridge and there was a bomb shelter built beneath it. The food stockpiled there could easily last a month. Lacey had advised against going in heavy-handed. Tyler won’t be intimidated by a show of force. He’s seen it all. The area was crisscrossed with dozens of trails and animal tracks, and the only access road was fully visible from the house. They would have to go in on foot if they were going to surprise him.
The door opened and Ray Davidson stepped outside. He took a quick look around but didn’t seem to notice that Jessie was staring right at him with an unlit cigarette in her hand. She watched him carefully. There was something familiar about his profile. He walked out onto the lawn and stared out into the distance. Several times he picked up his phone. He appeared to be scrolling through his messages. He sent a couple off, his fingers fluttering over the keys. He drifted along the fence before turning back to the house and sitting on a bench under the trees. A couple of minutes later, he picked up the phone and put it to his ear. Although he was keeping his voice down, he was so close Jessie could hear everything he said.
“Macy,” he said, taking a quick look around. “Will you please pick up the goddamn phone and tell me where you are? I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t want to lose you and our son.”
He hung up and keyed in another number. This time he didn’t bother to speak softly.
“Hi, sweetheart. Sorry about earlier. Are the girls okay?” He listened. “Look, I know we’ve been having a rough time but things will get better now, you’ll see … I love you too. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”
Jessie struck the match just as he stepped onto the porch. It flared against the tip of her cigarette. He stood a few feet away, looking down at her.
“I know you from somewhere,” she said, pointing the smoldering cigarette at him. “Do you live around here?”
“No. You must be mistaken.”
“That’s weird. You look familiar.”
“I’m on the news sometimes,” he said, turning to go. “Maybe that’s it.”
She took a long drag. “So, where do you live?”
“Down in Helena.”
“With your wife and daughters?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds like you have the perfect lie.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said it sounds like you have the perfect life.” She tilted her head toward the kitchen door. “The computer file you were waiting for has arrived.”
“You were listening?”
She took a long draw and looked him in the eye.
“I heard eve
rything.”
25
Macy checked into her new motel at around one in the morning, but was already on the road again by five. She’d not seen any of her fellow guests. The parking lot was full of minivans with Canadian plates and homemade signs saying Yellowstone or Bust. It looked like an entire group was heading south in tandem. She checked the time. There was an operations briefing scheduled for six at the local elementary school’s auditorium. She’d be able to grab some breakfast if she hurried. She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. There was no disguising the fact that she’d barely slept. She took a deep breath and concentrated on the coming day. Despite her efforts, Ray was foremost in her thoughts. It was only a matter of time before they were in the same room again. She had to figure out a way of negotiating their personal situation without jeopardizing her career. She stopped at the first of Wilmington Creek’s three traffic lights and waited for the signal to change. The main road through town was lined with patrol cars and SWAT team vehicles. They’d yet to locate Charlie Lott’s vehicle, but that hadn’t stopped Ray from gathering the troops.
Macy parked in a free space in front of The Whitefish where a young officer stood looking down at the cards and flowers that had been left in tribute to John Dalton. The paper had faded and the moldering mound smelled of sweet decay. Some of the candles were still lit, but most were only a pool of hard wax on the pavement. She crossed the street and ducked into the Wilmington Creek Bar and Grill. Considering the early hour, it was very busy. Aiden wasn’t there, but Ray was sitting at a table near the door with three senior police officers she recognized. It was impossible to pretend she didn’t see him. He waved her over and offered her the empty chair to his left. They were discussing strategy. A detailed map of the terrain surrounding Lacey Truman’s property was spread out in front of them. His home and all the access points had been highlighted.
“Where’s Alden Marsh?” she asked, leaning back so the waitress could pour coffee into a clean mug that had suddenly appeared.
“You just missed him,” said Ray, gesturing to her place at the table. “There’s been a development. We found Charlie Lott’s car a couple miles south of the access road. Looks like he and Lana spent the night in it. There’s a trailhead within walking distance. Fresh tracks indicate they don’t have too much of a head start.”
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