Burnt River (14 page)

“Did John have any worries about returning home? Did he ever mention any specific issues?”

“I would have remembered something like that. I come from a family of ranchers as well. We used to drive everyone nuts talking about it. He seemed to really miss working with his father. He did mention his sister a lot. I think she was his twin.”

“Yes, that’s right. Her name is Jessie.”

“There was some kind of problem. Drugs, as I recall.”

“She’s clean now.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Who was John closest to in his platoon?”

“That’s an easy one to answer. It was always Tyler Locke. They grew up together.”

“I’ve met Tyler.”

“Yes, I understand he’s back home now as well.”

“Is there anyone else besides Tyler who I can speak to?”

“Hmmm. There are a couple of guys, but at the moment his platoon is stationed at the advanced command outpost.”

“Any idea when they’ll be back?”

“That’s classified.”

“I’d like you to put them through to me as soon as you can.”

“That might be a problem. I’ll get a message to them. One way or another I’ll make sure you get the information you need.”

“I’m reaching here, but could something have happened over there that may have followed John back to Wilmington Creek? I don’t know. A friendly fire incident? A disagreement with one of the other men? I can’t believe they’re weren’t any disputes.”

“I’m telling you now that John was more of a peacemaker. I will ask the guys though. Someone may have heard something.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Just as she was hanging up, Aiden walked in, smelling of wood smoke. He collapsed in his chair and threw his hat on the desk before gesturing to a small refrigerator in the corner. “Can you check if there’s anything to drink in there? I’m dying over here.”

Macy raised a 7 Up and he nodded his approval. “That will do nicely.”

She handed it to him and he drained it in a single shot.

“You want another?”

“Yes, please. Christ, it’s hot out there.” He dragged his hands across his face, leaving dark smudges.

Macy gave him a tissue, along with another soft drink. “You have soot all over your face.”

He mopped up. “I’m not surprised. It was hell down there. The crews only just managed to stop the fire from jumping Route 93. Ten homes were lost.” He tapped his desk with his knuckles. “So far no one has died.”

“You’ve had three fires in quick succession. Have you considered the possibility that it might be arson?”

“We’ve considered it, but so far we’ve got zilch. People are under the misconception that arsonists are stupid, but that’s because it’s only the stupid ones that get caught. How was your morning?”

“I’ve just printed out Lana Clark’s case report. The officer handling her harassment case is supposed to call me after lunch.”

“What about the therapist?”

“Janet Flute confirmed that John was seeing her because he was having difficulty coming to terms with what Annie told him.”

“Did she have any insight as to why John would believe Annie in the first place?”

Macy got up and shut the door. “Janet advised John to be cautious, but apparently there were reasons for him to believe there was a possibility it was true. Janet wouldn’t go into detail, but did say that John had made his peace. He was loyal to Jeremy. Nothing his mother said would change that.”

“Did he ever figure out who Annie might be talking about?”

“The therapist was under the impression that John had figured it out some time ago, but he didn’t reveal any more details.”

“Anyway, I’m not sure it’s relevant unless the father was someone who didn’t want to be found, and how likely is that?”

“My thoughts exactly. Anyway, she didn’t corroborate what Tyler told us, but she only had six sessions with John and admits it’s impossible to develop a reliable picture of someone in such a short time. However, John’s former commander in Afghanistan also swears John wasn’t having any issues, but is putting me in touch with some of the guys that were closest to him. He did say that John and Tyler were exceptionally tight and that there was no telling how well a soldier would adapt to civilian life.”

“So we’re still thinking Tyler would be best equipped to give us an accurate picture of John’s state of mind.”

“Yes, but where does that really get us? Say John was stressed. That doesn’t explain why someone put a bullet in his head and then sent a message to his mother apologizing.”

“You got another copy of Lana’s case report?”

“It’s on the desk in front of you.”

He yawned into his closed fist as he rose from the chair. “I’m gonna get some coffee. You want to join me?”

“No thanks. I reached my daily limit a few hours ago.”

“Okay, suit yourself. I’ll be back in a half hour or so.” He picked up the file and left without shutting the door.

Macy stared at the open door. She had no idea if Aiden was offended or not. He seemed as hungover as she was, maybe a bit more irritable, but that was understandable considering the morning he’d had. She kicked the door shut with her foot and returned to her desk, where she sat facing the corner. Even though she’d done nothing wrong it always felt as if she was the one being punished. She’d spent the last three years being loyal to Ray Davidson, but he didn’t seem to be any closer to moving on from his marriage than he was when they started seeing each other the first time he and his wife separated. The only promising thing he’d done recently was to acknowledge that Luke was his son, but the way he’d gone about it only frustrated Macy further. He wanted Luke to have his surname and was surprised Macy didn’t jump at the chance to change the birth certificate. Ray had seen Luke only four times since he was born. The first occasion had been when Macy ran into him and his wife at a barbecue. Luke was eight months old and anyone who was looking could see how much he resembled Ray. His wife hesitated before offering her congratulations. Macy knew she was doing the math. She was a smart lady. She would have figured out then and there that Luke was conceived while she and Ray were still separated. Since Ray had asked about changing the birth certificate, Macy had also been doing some math. In the nineteen months since Luke was born, Ray had had less than four hours of actual contact. There was no way her son would ever be Luke Davidson. Macy looked over her shoulder at the closed door. She’d lied to Aiden. She was actually desperate for another cup of coffee. She slipped Lana’s case report in her bag and went to find him.

12

The home Tyler had inherited from his grandmother was located close to where Tucker Road came to a dead end on the eastern shores of the Flathead River. It stood on a windswept lot guarded by chain-link fencing and warning signs. It had been closed up since his grandmother went into the hospital seven months earlier, and no matter how long Tyler left the windows open, the smell of her last year in residence wouldn’t be shifted. His mother liked to say that she’d been too stubborn to leave the place in peace. Tyler liked to say his grandmother had been too stubborn to change her colostomy bag.

Dylan knocked a couple of times before easing open the screen door.

“Hey, Tyler. You here?”

The television was frozen on the image from a video game. Blankets were strewn across the sofa, and the ashtray on the floor next to it overflowed with cigarette butts. Porn magazines, video games, and empty beer bottles covered the coffee table. Dylan went into the kitchen and felt the coffeepot with the back of his hand. It was still warm so he poured some into a cup. Thinking Tyler may have gone back to bed, he wandered down the hallway.

“Tyler, I got your message.”

The bedroom door was ajar, the unmade bed clearly visible. He knocked but there was no answer. He eased the door open further. The floor was covered in dirty laundry. A military kit bag was thrown in the corner, its contents spilling out. He heard music coming from the direction of the garage. He shifted the curtains and looked outside. The side door to the one-story building was open. Dylan went back into the living room and found a scribbled note on the sliding glass doors telling him to come around back to the garage. He stepped out onto the porch. A backhoe was parked above a deep pit. Cinder blocks were stacked on wooden pallets along the back fence.

Dylan knocked loud enough to be heard over the music and waited by the door. Tyler was sitting on a stool at the workbench, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts and flip-flops; his wide tattooed back was damp with sweat. He adjusted the position of a lamp that was attached to the wall before reaching up to lower the volume on a pair of portable speakers.

“Hey, Dylan.”

“Hey.”

“You manage to get any sleep?”

“A bit. You?”

“Not really.”

Dylan leaned against the open door where it was marginally cooler. Self-conscious about the scars that roped his thigh, he hadn’t worn shorts in public since he was wounded. Compared to the glaring sunlit sky outside, the garage was dark and his eyes were slow to adjust. Every tool Tyler’s grandfather had ever owned was carefully displayed along one of the walls. Fishing and hunting gear took up the other. There were two deep freezers humming along the back wall. Above them Tyler had taped the blueprints for a nuclear fallout shelter he was digging in his backyard. Dylan and John had laughed when Tyler told them about the plans he’d downloaded from a survivalist’s Web site. He’d glared at them
.

We’ll see who has the last laugh.

Tyler uncoiled orange det cord from spools and cut it into equal lengths. There were eight three-pound Pentolite explosive cylinders and a single electronic detonator stowed in a box on the floor. Dylan walked over and picked up the detonator. It was the same type they used in the army.

“I see Wayne isn’t the only one stealing stuff from work.”

Tyler shrugged. “It’s not like they’re going to give me a gold watch.”

“You have everything you need?”

Tyler picked up an explosive cylinder and peered down the hole bored through its length. “You should see Wayne’s place. He’s gonna get caught if he keeps taking this stuff.”

“Is there any way it can be traced back to him?”

“If they blow like they’re supposed to do, that won’t be a problem we have to worry about.”

“And if they don’t?”

“I’ll make sure they’re clean.” Tyler threaded det cord through the cylinder and tied off the end before wrapping the cord in loops and securing it with black electrical tape. He put the bundle to one side and started the next one.

“This seems like too much.”

“We only have one shot at it so I’m going for overkill.”

“Wade called this morning.”

Tyler frowned. “Did anything happen after we left?”

“No. He just wanted to thank us for helping out.”

“And so he should.”

“He went out early this morning to have a look around. You’ll be relieved to know you didn’t shoot any livestock.”

“I wasn’t imagining things. I saw something out there.”

“I’m not doubting you.”

He pointed. “Hand me those wire strippers.”

“How long did you make the detonator cords?”

“Fifty feet.”

“Is that enough?”

“It’s adequate. There are plenty of places to take cover up there. Plus, I have to pack all this shit in.”

“I’ll help you.”

“No offense, Dylan, but I’m going in on foot. You’d slow me down.”

“When are you going?”

“If all goes well I’ll set off early tomorrow morning. I’ve got a friend who has a place south of Darby Lake. I’ll hike in from there.”

“Oh yeah, who’s this?”

“Guy named Lacey I met in Iraq. He’s running a training course for a militia on the Mexico-Arizona border for the next month and wanted me to keep an eye on things. I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.”

“I didn’t know anyone lived down that way. It’s pretty remote.”

“It’s a sweet setup. Completely off the grid. Only access is a logging road.” He shot Dylan a quick glance. “How are you holding up? Better than yesterday?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’m sorry about being a dick. I know you were just trying to help.”

“You don’t need to be sorry about anything. Just don’t shut me out. I’m here for you.”

“I know. It’s just been hard. John has had my back all this time. Now he’s gone and you’re leaving.”

“One more deployment and I’m coming home.”

“Really? I thought you’d never call time.”

“I’ve had enough. Maybe I’ll become a consultant like Lacey. He gets paid a shitload of money.”

“It would be nice to have you around.”

“In the meantime, you’ve got to dig deep. I know you’ve got it in you. You’re a strong person, Dylan. You’ve just lost sight of that. You find it again and you’ll be fine.” He paused. “And quit taking all those meds. It can’t be right.”

“That’s harder than you think.”

“I’ve heard of guys that are taking so much junk they’ve accidentally overdosed.”

“That’s one way to look at it.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“They could have done it on purpose. There’s a lot of that going around.”

“Don’t even think it, Dylan.”

“I’m not.”

“Good to hear.”

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m a little worried about being called in again for questioning. Aiden’s cool, but that detective from Helena isn’t going to like that I have a criminal record.”

“That was years ago.”

“Well, as far as I know they don’t have squat aside from Lana’s ex and some guy from a fire crew. They’ll be checking anyone who was close to John.”

“I heard through the grapevine that they are going to interview Bob Crawley.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Lana’s been seeing him.”

Tyler stopped stripping the ends of the det cord and stretched out his back. He stared straight ahead when he spoke. “She kept that quiet.”

“It’s not something she’d want to advertise. He’s married.”

“Hand me that detonator.”

“I thought for sure you’d go for a fertilizer bomb.”

“Hiking in with fifty pounds of ampho on my back didn’t sound like my idea of fun.”