Burnt River (33 page)

“How did you get in?” she said, glancing at the door.

“Are you really going to do this?”

“Do what?”

“This little performance of yours.”

“It’s not a performance, Ray. I am well and truly pissed off.” She pointed at the door. “Get out of my room.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Ray, go.”

“I’m not going anywhere until we’ve talked. Your behavior has been completely unprofessional. You’ve ignored my messages and phone calls. We’re in the middle of a major investigation.”

“An investigation you nearly screwed up.”

“I made the right call at the time.”

“No, Ray.
I
made the right call. And since you brought up all these phone calls and messages, since when is
‘Macy, we really need to talk about our relationship’
a work matter? Leave me alone. You’re married. We have no relationship.”

“I’m separated.”

“Being separated isn’t a state of mind, Ray. It’s a physical act. Move out and I’ll consider you separated. Get divorced and I’ll consider you available.” She steadied her voice. “Not that it matters anymore. Whatever this has been, it’s over now.”

“We have a child together.”

“No, we have a child apart.”

“He’s my son. He needs me.”

“You have three daughters you don’t spend any time with. You’re always parading their problems in front of me as excuses for your behavior. They’re the ones who need you. Luke doesn’t even know you exist.”

“What brought this on? We were fine a couple of days ago.”

“You were fine, but I wasn’t. All these delays and second chances. You pushed me away one too many times. And it doesn’t help that you went and pulled that shit with me about the press conference. It’s one thing to mess with my personal life, but it’s another thing to mess with my career. The things you said were completely unacceptable.” She hesitated. “You think you have all the power here, but you don’t. I know things about you.”

“Don’t threaten me.”

“What do you think you’re doing right now? You break into my hotel room while I’m in the shower.” She pointed at the door again. “I told you to leave and you didn’t. Whose behavior is more threatening?”

He held open his arms. “Come here.”

“What part of what I just said made you think I want to be anywhere near you? It’s over.”

“You’re going to regret this.”

“Excuse me?”

He sighed. “Macy, you’re going to regret not giving me another chance. We were so close to getting everything we wanted.”

“That’s not how I saw it. If anything, you’ve become more distant over the past few months. I was lonely enough before. I didn’t realize it could actually get worse.”

He stood up and straightened his tie. “Your problem has always been that you’re too needy.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

He moved in close and stood over her. He was six inches taller and twice as wide. She kept her eyes on the knot in his tie and waited for him to back down. He ran his fingertips over her bare shoulders. She didn’t move. He held his lips to her damp hair for a few seconds before whispering in her ear.

“This isn’t over.”

“As far as I’m concerned this never began. Get out, Ray.”

He threw a key card on the bed and walked out the door without closing it behind him.

*   *   *

Macy packed in a hurry. She’d seen Ray intimidate witnesses, but never expected to be on the receiving end. She kept glancing at the door. The security chain was on, but that wasn’t enough. Ray’s room was a few doors away. More distance was required. She didn’t want to be in the same town, let alone the same motel. She sat on the edge of the bed with her laptop perched on her knees. There was a motel on the road leading to the Dalton Ranch. As she recalled, the Vacancy sign had been lit. She was just about to call them when she saw an incoming text message from Aiden, asking if she was still awake. Instead of sending him a reply she dialed his number.

“Aiden, it’s me.”

“Sorry if I woke you.”

“Not at all. What’s up?”

“Wade Larkin’s contact came through. We’ve got a name.”

Macy checked the time. It was 11:21. “Are you in the office?”

“No, I came home for a quick shower.”

“I’ll come over.”

“Are you sure?”

“I was just about to leave anyway.”

“What’s going on?”

“Remind me of your address.”

“It’s 23 Sutter Street.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

*   *   *

Aiden’s one-story home was two blocks from Main Street. There was a single tree centered in a crusty-looking front yard and a low hedge running below the front porch. Macy parked on the hard shoulder across the road and sat staring out at the dark windows. The curtains were drawn and the only visible light was above the door. A patrol car was backed into the driveway facing toward her. She picked up her bag and slid out of the cab.

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.”