Burnt River (7 page)

“Tyler Locke was John Dalton’s platoon sergeant, but they’ve known each other for years. He’s done six deployments, but has been home on extended leave from Afghanistan because his grandmother passed. He normally lives down at Fort Benning, Georgia. He’s thirty-two and has a stellar service record, but got into the service on a criminal waiver.”

“He has priors?”

“He went off the rails during his teens but found his feet again. The Daltons took him under their wing and really straightened him out. Sadly, it turned out he was stealing from them. He was pulled over for speeding and the arresting officer found two hundred pounds of ammonium nitrate in the back of his truck.”

“Fertilizer?”

“Yeah, but I doubt he was intending to use it that way. Jeremy said it was stolen but Annie said it was a misunderstanding. He got two years’ probation.” He held up a file. “Aside from the stuff when he was a teenager, it’s in here.”

“What do you think? Was it a misunderstanding?”

“Hard to say. It’s been more than ten years and he’s not put a foot wrong since. I’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Aiden nodded. “You should know that he’s pretty beat up. Got a little too close to an IED and was sprayed with shrapnel. He has burns on his arms from trying to rescue someone in his unit from a Humvee that got hit by a roadside bomb. He’s kind of scary to look at and can be abrasive, but I’ve never heard anyone say a word against him.”

“What’s Dylan Reed’s story?”

“Dylan is the same age as John and they’ve been friends pretty much since birth. They enlisted at the same time, but Dylan went to train in San Antonio as a combat medic after completing his basic training at Fort Benning. He was shot in the thigh five months into his fourth deployment. From what I hear, he’s lucky to still have a leg.”

There was a knock at the door and they both looked up. A uniformed officer handed Aiden a printout. “This just came through. It’s Tyler Locke’s army service record.”

Aiden took a quick look before handing it to Macy. “That was fast. Anything on Dylan Reed yet?”

“Not that I’ve seen.”

“Okay, keep me posted.”

Macy flipped open Tyler’s file and started reading. “How do you want to do this? I’m beginning to think you’re a little too close to some of the witnesses.”

“I won’t be offended if you question them on your own. I’ll observe.”

“Are you sure? This is your town. I don’t want to overstep.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you know if you do.”

5

Dylan felt anxious standing in the entryway of the restaurant. He was about to tell Tyler he was leaving when a waitress, who looked vaguely familiar, took him by the arm and smiled sympathetically. She seated them in a booth next to the front windows and leaned in to set out the cutlery. He didn’t know what to do when she handed him the menu. He sat rigid in the cushioned seat, but his eyes moved across the restaurant like mine sweepers. He could actually taste the acrid smoke. Red dust was gritty in his mouth. He tasted blood too. It was that day again. He was out on patrol with his platoon. Hot white light reflected off buildings. One minute he was walking. The next he was falling. They dragged him into a nearby school. The high windows were cracked, the broken sky blue. Dark-eyed children cowered under desks. Their teacher begged the soldiers to leave. All that chaos. All that noise. The medic was calm, though. He never stopped talking to Dylan.

You’re going home now. You’re safe. Just focus on that.

Dylan glanced from one diner to another, but found no sign of home. Every spoken word was a warning. Every noise reverberated in his head at ten times its natural volume. Perspiration beaded on his skin. He clenched his fist and the blue veins on his forearm swelled like rivers. He reached for the knife only to have someone snatch it away.

The man sitting across from him spoke in a low voice. His disjointed words floated through the air. Dylan tried to put them in an order he understood, but nothing made sense. A big round head with searching eyes leaned toward him.

“Dylan, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Dylan flinched at the sound of his name. He opened his mouth to speak, but his plea for help rolled back on his tongue like a sucking tide. He swallowed. There was pressure on his hand. It was being squeezed. The knife was gone. The fork too.

“Dylan, it’s okay.”

Dylan glanced down at his arm and watched the veins swell.
It is not okay.

“Do you need to get out of here?”

He might have said
yes
.

There was no way they could leave through the front door. There were too many people. He’d never make it. The round face was no longer across from him. A voice whispered in his ear.

“Come with me. Let’s get you outside.”

The man pulled him by the arm and he stumbled from the booth. A woman looked up from her newspaper and stared. Another held a phone to her ear. He could hear every word. There was a squeal and a small child was lifted high. It floated through the air from one set of hands to another. A bell chimed and the front door opened. More people crowded in. They wore work clothes and were strangers to him.

Dylan let himself be led. They went out the back way. He dragged his fingertips along the wall as he tripped down a narrow passage that took him past the kitchen. His shirt was damp with sweat but his mouth was as dry as ash. A door swung open and he was thrust out into sunlight. It bounced off the whitewashed wall of the building opposite. He staggered toward it, only to be wheeled round again.

“Dylan, I want you to listen to me. You’re home. You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you again. Do you hear me, Dylan?”

Dylan understood everything this time. He buried his head in Tyler’s shoulder and wept.

*   *   *

They sat in the front seat of Tyler’s Suburban, staring out at the people gathering in front of The Whitefish. Despite the heat, Dylan was shivering. He pulled his sweatshirt’s hood over his head and closed his eyes. Now that it was over he only wanted to sleep.

Tyler spoke through a cloud of cigarette smoke. “I don’t suppose you want to talk about what just happened in there.”

“I’ve got it under control.”

“No, you don’t. You’ve got some serious shit going on in your head. How long has this been going on?”

“I’m not sure. It started slowly and just got worse.”

“You taking anything for it?”

“Zoloft, Remeron, Xanax, morphine, prazosin … I could go on.”

“Shit, Dylan. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not something I like to tell.”

“You shouldn’t go through this kind of shit on your own.”

“I said that I have it under control.”

“Not from where I’m sitting.”

“It’s worse when I’m stressed.”

Tyler pointed his cigarette at the police station. “In a few minutes’ time they’re going to want to put you in a small room and interview you. Given your state of mind, you’ve got no business going through something like that. Aiden will understand. Just let me tell him what’s going on with you.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’m fine now.”

“Dylan, you’ve got to learn to accept help when it’s offered.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“If you guys would just listen. I’m here for you.”

“What’s that? You think I’m not listening? I hear everything, Tyler. Everything.”

“Let’s just drop it.”

Dylan picked up Tyler’s lighter and flicked the flame on and off. “So, what do you think happened last night?”

“I don’t know. A robbery that went wrong?”

“That’s what I’m thinking.”

“John wouldn’t have gone down easily.”

“I was so pissed off at him this morning. I feel like shit. I should have been there for him.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’ve been having the same thoughts.”

Dylan rubbed his face. “We should go see Jeremy. Pay our respects.”

“Tomorrow will be soon enough. I imagine they’ve got their hands full today.”

“When was the last time you saw Annie?”

“Christ, Annie. I forgot about Annie. It’s been more than two years now.”

“A few months back, I went up to see Jeremy about a job and she came into the kitchen. She walked past him like he wasn’t there. She’s so thin now.”

“I hear she dresses like a witch.”

“I guess you could call it that.”

“Did she say anything?”

“She said plenty. It just didn’t make much sense.” Dylan lowered his voice. “She kept trying to touch me. It got a little awkward. Jeremy had to ask me to leave.”

“She’s crazy. She should be put away.”

“People might say I’m crazy too. You going to put me away?”

“Nah, it’s different with you. You’ve earned your crazy. After everything you’ve seen…”

“You’re fine. John
was
fine. Why me?”

“Well, for starters, we didn’t get shot up like you did. It makes a difference. You live with it every day. I respect you for keeping a lid on it. It’s tough.”

“It’s almost worse being back here. I worry too much about Ethan’s truck. Every time the phone rings I think it’s someone calling to say they’ve found his body. I really didn’t give it much thought until I came back.”

“It’s too quiet here,” said Tyler, stubbing out his latest cigarette. “Suddenly, there’s too much time to think. If we’re given time to imagine the worst, that’s just what we’ll do.”

“I can’t get my head around this. John should have outlived us all.”

“I suppose he must have gone to see Lana.”

“He told me he was going to drop her.”

Tyler raised his voice. “Well, he lied, didn’t he?”

“What do you suppose was going on with him?”

“Hard to say. A walk on the wild side, I guess.”

“Lana’s not that wild.”

“Yeah, tell me another one.”

“If you took the time to talk to her you’d realize she’s smart.”

“If she was smart she’d still be back in Georgia, not living here and working at that dive.”

“I don’t think she had much choice but to leave.”

“So she says. All I know is that John had a choice last night and he chose wrong. If he’d gone home or to Tanya’s place, he’d probably still be alive now.”

“You think Lana had something to do with it?”

“Maybe.”

“You’ll have to do better than maybe.”

Tyler’s phone rang. He looked at the screen before shutting it off. “It’s Aiden. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Just so you know, I’m here for you. You need someone to talk to, you come to me.” He grabbed Dylan’s shoulder. “You hear me?”

Dylan reached for the door handle. “Yeah, I hear everything.”

6

Macy thought Dylan Reed was far too thin. He had birdlike wrists and cheekbones that looked sharp enough to cut glass. Unlike John Dalton, he didn’t look as if he’d ever been in the army. His brown hair fell across his face and an oversized hooded sweatshirt hung off his narrow shoulders. He unfolded from his seat like a jackknife and held out his hand. Macy introduced herself and he spoke softly, stating his name and telling her he’d do whatever he could to help.

He took his time easing into the chair, his lips hardening into a line once he was settled. Macy’s heart went out to him in ways she didn’t expect.

“You don’t look like you eat,” she said.

“Ask my friends, they’ll set you straight.”

“How bad is it?” she said, gesturing to his leg. He’d slung it out to the side like a piece of excess baggage.

“I’m lucky to have it, so I can’t complain.”

“I imagine it’s going to take some time to heal properly.”

“They tell me it’s as healed as it’s going to get.”

“You still seem to be in a lot of pain.”

“There are metal plates holding my leg together. They tell me I’ll always be in pain.”

Macy glanced down at her notes. “You enlisted with John?”

“Yeah, we went over to Billings together. I was still drunk from the night before, otherwise I don’t think I could have gone through with it.”

“Sounds like you’re the reluctant hero.”

“Really, it was John who wanted to join. I guess I came along for the ride.”

“Did you always follow John’s lead?”

“Pretty much.”

“What are you going to do now?”

He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ve got no idea.”

“How was John settling into life back here in Wilmington Creek? Having been away for so many years it must have been difficult to adjust to being home full time. It’s pretty quiet here compared to Afghanistan.”

“Compared to anywhere it would seem quiet here.”

“True.”

“I really have no idea if John was happy, whatever that means. I will say that he was focused. Aside from his girlfriend, Tanya, he seemed to pick up where he left off. He worked hard. He spent time with his family and friends. He was thinking of going into politics.”

“Tanya is his ex-girlfriend?”

“I wouldn’t say she was an ex. They’d been seeing each other again, but it wasn’t the same as before. They were both being very cautious.” He hesitated. “All things considered, Tanya’s been very patient. During his first two deployments she stayed at Fort Benning, but the last time he was on leave he spent more time out with his friends than at home with her. She was lonely so she came back here.”

“Were there hard feelings?”

“I can’t speak for her, but John felt pretty shitty about how he behaved. He’d always fooled around, but this time she found out. Someone posted something on the Internet.”

“Did this have anything to do with Lana Clark?”

“Yeah, she’s the one John was seeing, although she wasn’t the one who rubbed it in Tanya’s face. I don’t think John knew what hit him when he met Lana. She’s smart in a way the girls around here aren’t. She’s lived a lot of places. Sees things differently. Meanwhile, Tanya is this girl from a small town. I don’t think John knew what he wanted. He’d be out partying with Lana on Saturday night but then he’d meet Tanya at church on Sunday morning. Those two women couldn’t be more different.”

“John had just had a big change in his life. It’s understandable that he’d be conflicted about how he wanted to spend the rest of it.”