Burnt River (22 page)

*   *   *

Macy had just printed out the first draft of her statement when Ray walked into the room and quietly shut the door behind him. Macy didn’t look up from her laptop. She was speed-reading through Lindsay Moore’s case notes.

“What’s on your mind, Ray?”

“What’s with your attitude? I thought we were on the same side.”

Macy stared at him for a long moment before speaking. “Excuse me?”

He lowered his voice. “Regardless of what’s going on between us, I am your commanding officer. I expect your support. How you behaved back there was unprofessional.”

“I’m the lead detective on this case. Whether you agree with it or not, my opinion is valid. You can’t just come up here, dump all this on me, and expect me to fall into line.”

“I’m not dumping anything on you.”

“Ray, I was on the special task force put together to investigate that state trooper’s murder. I’ve not only read the report, I helped write it. I have good reason to doubt the veracity of your informant’s testimony. He’s up for murder one, and in exchange for information on militia groups he names Ethan Green as the shooter. It happened in the middle of the night out on Route 93 south of Missoula. How could there be any witnesses?”

“It’s not just me who thinks this guy’s statement is sound. The FBI is on board as well. Our guy was active in the area at the time. His cell phone can be triangulated to within twenty miles of the incident.”

“That’s hardly surprising, since your informant lives in Missoula. I’m not saying that Ethan Green didn’t do it, I’m just doubting that you actually have a witness.”

“What’s the difference, if we get the right guy in the end?”

“I want to talk to the informant before we go forward with the press conference. I also want the ballistics analysis done again. There’s too much riding on this. If we get it wrong, we lose valuable time.”

“We’re not getting it wrong. I was there when they did the ballistics tests. I personally delivered the slug the ME found in Lindsay’s shoulder. You’re going to have to trust me on this, Macy. Ethan Green is our man.”

“You give me until tomorrow afternoon to do what I need to do, and I’ll be much happier making a statement to the press.”

Ray placed his hand on the table. “Lindsay was on to something. She called me just last week.”

“I’ve been going through her files, Ray.” She turned her laptop around. “It’s all there on the mainframe. I was issued the access codes this morning. I’ve read through everything she’s logged over the past few weeks. There’s nothing. The day before she died she wrote that she was becoming more convinced that Ethan Green is either dead or has left town.”

“So why did she call me and tell me something completely different?”

“Maybe she wanted to extend her time up here. There was a man in her life. Perhaps he was local and she wasn’t ready to leave.”

Ray looked at his watch. “We’re running out of time. I want to catch the six o’clock news.”

“I would like to postpone until tomorrow.”

“You’re willing to risk him getting away or, worse, striking again.”

“I don’t want to risk compromising the investigation. If we put a name as big as Ethan Green’s out there and we get it wrong, we’re going to lose the public’s confidence. I say we wait.”

“Can I see your notes for the press statement?”

Macy handed them over and watched as Ray read through them.

“You may not be willing to stick your neck out, but I am. Ethan Green is the shooter, and the sooner the public gets on board, the better.”

Macy threw her pen aside. “I guess it’s your show.”

“And don’t think that I don’t know what’s really going on here. You promised you would never let our relationship get in the way of doing your job.”

“That is completely out of line. I’ve never done that before, and I’m not doing it now.”

Ray started making notes in the margins. “Macy, I’ve really had enough of your shit for one day. I’m going to do the press conference and then I’m heading home. I think you’re overtired. I suggest you get a good night’s sleep and call me in the morning.”

He left without saying good-bye.

18

Annie waved Jessie into her hospital room, but didn’t look up from her book. “About time you showed up.”

“I tried to come before, but they wouldn’t let me see you.”

“Where’s my granddaughter? You should have brought her.”

“She’s staying with Monica and her husband for a couple of days. I needed to get her away from the house. It’s been so depressing up at the ranch.”

Annie stared at her daughter with a blank expression on her face.

“Monica is my best friend from grade school. We grew up together.”

“Did I approve of her?”

“She was your favorite,” Jessie lied.

Annie pointed at the paper bag Jessie was carrying. “What have you brought me?”

Jessie placed the bag on the bed and started to empty out the contents. The doctor had taken away the jar of raspberry jam and removed the glass from the framed photo of Tara. Nothing that could be used as a weapon was allowed. Jessie stumbled over her words.

“It’s just the few things I managed to get past the doctors. Some cookies you like. A few of your books. One of your journals.” She placed the photo of Tara on the bedside table.

“They’re worried I’ll kill myself.” Annie snapped her book shut and set it down on her lap. “I requested a room on the sixth floor with a balcony, but they turned me down.”

“Please don’t joke about stuff like that.”

“Why not? Gallows humor is one of the few pleasures I have left.”

“I’m trying to get you out of here.”

“Don’t bother.”

“You’re just going to give up?”

Annie pushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. “Jessie, you really need to start paying attention. Whatever Jeremy might be saying, I’m not like this by choice. Sometimes I think you believe that this is all part of a master plan to make my family miserable.”

“Well, it worked.”

She waved a hand. “There you go.”

“I’m sorry. I just think that maybe early on you could have done more to get help. It’s like you cut yourself off from us. We didn’t understand what was happening. We just knew you didn’t want to be around us anymore.”

She smoothed the book cover with her hands. “At some point it became easier to do nothing. Even a cage can be comfortable. Besides, I decided long ago that I’m not wired for happiness … whatever that means. Sometimes life breaks you.”

“You just have to keep trying.”

“And sometimes you have to admit it’s hopeless. I was broken all the way down. That’s a line from a song, isn’t it?” Her fingers fluttered to her lips and she started humming softly.

“Were you ever happy?”

“Do I get points for faking it?”

“I read your journals. The man you had an affair with. You never refer to him by name.”

Annie stopped humming. Her gaze sharpened again.

“He is someone I never wanted you to know about.”

“You loved him. He made you happy. You say as much in your journals.”

“Don’t give him too much credit. Not a lot of effort was required. Things with Jeremy were bad to the point of breaking.” She shook her head. “I was so soft. So stupid. I loved that man to the point of obsession.”

Jessie sat down in the only chair. Her mother had been reading a frayed copy of
The Year of Magical Thinking
by Joan Didion.

“Why did you stay with Jeremy?”

“I didn’t feel like I had a choice.”

“That’s ridiculous. Lots of people get divorced.”

“Have you ever heard the expression
too big to fail
? That was Jeremy and me. I’d put all my hopes and money into my marriage. I didn’t have a backup plan.” Her voice trailed off. “Besides, I was pregnant and that man, the one I was obsessed with, well, he left me without so much as a backward glance. One day was full of promise and the next was empty.”

Jessie thought about this for a few seconds before responding.

“Jeremy isn’t my father?”

“Jeremy couldn’t be anyone’s father. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was shooting blanks.”

Jessie opened her mouth to speak, but her mother cut her off.

“I’m going to tell you the same thing I told John. Don’t go looking for your real father. I learned too late that he was cruel.” She lowered her voice. “After all these years it still hurts. What does that make me?”

“It makes you human.”

“I’ll tell you one thing I know.
He
wasn’t human. Nobody cuts people cold like that.”

“How long did John know about this?”

“For a few months. He told me he decided it wasn’t important. He loved Jeremy like a father, and Jeremy loved him like a son.” She reached out and took hold of Jessie’s black hair. “Your problem is that you always looked too much like your real father. Same dark eyes and that hair. Nobody has hair like that in Jeremy’s family.” She pressed her fingers to her eyes like she was trying to erase the memory. “Jeremy caught us in bed together. His best man and his wife. There was no going back to the way things were after that.”

Jessie stood up very slowly. Her legs were so heavy that she couldn’t imagine how she’d make it out of the room.

“I have to go,” she said, taking the first tentative step for the door.

“You’ve been listening, though?” Annie tried to take hold of her hand, but Jessie snatched it away. “You need to speak to the lawyers. Don’t let Jeremy railroad you. You own half of everything. You understand? Half.”

Jessie didn’t want to hear about it. She focused all her energy on making it out of the room.

“I have to go,” she said again.

“Don’t go looking for your father. He’s not the man I thought he was.”

Jessie held the door frame and gave her mother one last backward glance.

“I’ll visit again soon.”

Annie picked up her book and turned to the page she’d been reading. “Next time bring something sharp.”

*   *   *

Tyler’s face was bright red. “You just don’t get it, do you, Jessie? When I heard those sirens at three this morning, I thought they were coming to arrest me. I had a backpack full of explosives sitting in my car, packed and ready to go.” He pinched his fingers together so they were almost touching. “I came this close to losing it.”

He stood in the middle of his kitchen, holding a green plastic garbage bag. He swept empty bottles and pizza boxes into it before moving to the living room. He bent over the coffee table and chucked in porn magazines, cigarette butts, and more bottles. The smell of stale beer and cigarettes made her feel sick.

Jessie remained on the front porch with the screen door half open, waiting for him to invite her inside. It was late afternoon and the sun was warm on her back. He stepped past her and threw the tied-off bag outside before grabbing another off the kitchen counter. His damp T-shirt stuck to his skin and thick beads of perspiration dripped down the back of his neck. He stunk.

“Close the door, you’re letting flies in.”

She stepped inside but stayed near the door. She was wary of being around Tyler when he was angry. He reminded her too much of Jeremy.

“Where’s Dylan?”

“He’s out back playing with his dog.” He picked a T-shirt up from the floor and smelled it before chucking it into the hallway. “How much do you know about Dylan’s condition?”

She shrugged. “I know he’s hurting.”

“It’s worse than that. He’s taking pills for everything—sleeping, waking, pain, anxiety, more pain. He told me he sees dead people sometimes. I’d say our friend Dylan is as fucked up as they come.”

“I didn’t know it was that bad.”

He pointed to his temple. “You need to stop messing with his head. Why are you panicking because someone gave your necklace back? Why can’t you just be thankful like a normal person? Ethan is dead. Don’t go digging him up if you don’t have to.”

“Who else would have left it for me? There was no card. Just my name.”

“Jessie, please don’t waste my time with this shit. I’ve got real problems to deal with.” He jabbed the end of his lit cigarette in her direction. “Ethan didn’t kill John. Someone else did. That’s the son of a bitch we need to be worrying about right now.”

“I thought you were going to blow the cliff this morning.”

He grabbed a blanket off the sofa, shook it out, and started folding.

“Jess, I’ve been questioned twice today and they’ve set up a roadblock just outside my house. There’s no way I’m going anywhere with twenty-four pounds of high explosives in my car. It will have to wait.”

Tyler picked up the television remote and tuned into the local news station. The post box at the end of his driveway was in the center of the shot. Jessie’s beat-up hatchback was parked next to it. The camera swept across the landscape before focusing in on a reporter who looked young enough to be in high school. He pointed out the roadblock the police had erected and summarized what they knew so far before launching into the breaking news.

Tyler hit Pause and called Dylan into the house. “Dylan, get your ass in here. You need to see this.”

Dylan stood just inside the screen door. “That guy’s right in front of the house. Maybe we should go say hello.”

Tyler pointed the remote at the television again. “That’s not helpful.”

The reporter stared into the camera and delivered his lines.

The body discovered in the area of the Waldo Canyon fire has been formally identified as Lindsay Moore, a special investigator working for the state police in Helena. Sources close to the police department say she was working undercover in Wilmington Creek and posing as Ph.D. student Patricia Dune. Late last night her home on Tucker Road burned to the ground in an apparent arson attack. It was first thought that Lindsay Moore might have been in the house, but fire investigators were quick to confirm that the house was unoccupied at the time of the incident. We’re now going live to a press conference outside the Wilmington Creek Police Department, where the lead investigator, Detective Macy Greeley, is talking to reporters.

Jessie sat down on the arm of the sofa. Tara had been going on and on about how wonderful Macy Greeley was.
She showed me her gun
.
She has a son named Luke.
The cameras were rolling but Macy Greeley was nowhere to be seen. A man wearing a suit came out instead. The sun was in his eyes. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses and spoke confidently.