An End to a Silence: A mystery novel (The Montana Trilogy Book 1) (27 page)
Read An End to a Silence: A mystery novel (The Montana Trilogy Book 1) Online
Authors: W.H. Clark
Mallory
stood up. His eyes were bloodshot. He took a step closer to Newton until they
were an arm’s length apart.
Newton
took a deep breath to keep his voice even. “And that’s the second part of my
dilemma. Is it enough that I know who did kill Ryan? Or does Ryan deserve
justice? The only way I answer that particular question depends on whether I
think I can destroy my daughter’s life or not.”
Jen’s car
pulled into the drive and the engine revved and then cut out. Newton heard a
car door open and close. And then he heard another one open and close as Jen
retrieved her groceries
from the backseat. A few moments
later he heard the door open and the stamping of feet and he knew Mallory was
hearing the same. The two men faced each other and neither spoke. Jen could be
heard grumbling about snow in the house. Then the sound of chickens clucking in
the back yard coop. Mallory placed his hands on Newton’s shoulders and he
squeezed hard enough for Newton to try to wriggle free of the grip. Newton’s
hand found his gun and the hand sat there.
Mallory
said, “So, what you going to do, Dad?”
When Jen
entered the room she looked ready to go nuts on Mallory for the snow in the
hallway until she saw her father. By then Newton’s hand had dropped from his
gun and Mallory’s arms were by his sides.
“What’s
wrong?” Jen said immediately. The men looked at each other. Mallory was the
first to speak.
“Nothing.
Nothing’s wrong,” Mallory said. His words were tinny and annoying in Newton’s
ears.
Jen
looked at both men. “Dad? What are you doing here? Something happened? Is it
Mom?”
Newton’s
brain automatically tried to think of an excuse why he was there but his mouth
said nothing. He shook his head and stared at his daughter and he knew he
wasn’t hiding the turmoil that was in his mind. But no words would come out.
“Dad? Is
everything okay?” Jen said.
Her
father looked at her eyes. They were her mother’s. The inquiring look that
always got to the bottom of what was on Newton’s mind. The sense that women
have. That wives have. He studied her and saw more of Maggie. Her genes in the
smile wrinkles and her beautiful hair. The long flawless limbs. The perfection
of their creation. The way she tilted her head when she asked a question. A
question that clattered in Newton’s head. That look. He felt tears building in
his eyes but fought them back. His heart skipped as a father’s heart skips when
his little girl falls and comes up with bloodied knees and skinned hands.
Mallory wasn’t saying anything but Newton could feel his eyes on him. And now
Jen’s eyes filled with tears and the tears ran down her face.
“Dad,”
Jen said.
Newton’s
stare left Jen for a moment and he felt he was betraying her by gifting his gaze
to Mallory, who now stood there, mute. He looked to Newton like the little boy
who had walked into the station twenty-five years ago to tell a lie about what
had happened to Ryan. The lie that had defined so much of Newton’s life since.
The fallout of a crime he couldn’t solve. The drinking. So much of his life
filled with bitterness, regret, uncertainty. The failure of his relationship
with his son and near failure of his relationship with his wife, Maggie.
Beautiful Maggie, who stood there before him now in his daughter’s body. And he
knew utterly the debt he had to repay to himself, to his wife, and to Ryan most
of all. Ryan deserved justice. And he thought Mallory saw it in his eyes and
Mallory opened his mouth but Newton looked back at Jen and Mallory’s words
never came.
Newton
walked to his daughter, who was crying freely, her shoulders shaking.
“Daddy.
What… what’s happened?”
He took
her in his arms and he held her there. He stroked her hair and she trembled in
his grasp and he couldn’t say anything more than “I love you.” And then he left
her and he walked out of the house, hauling his decision with him as Bill
O’Donnell had carried Ryan into the woods. He slumped into his SUV and he cried
and snow fell and the eternal Montana winter felt like his never-ending curse.
THE AUTHOR
W.H. Clark is a native of Yorkshire, the most
beautiful county in England. An End to a Silence is his debut novel, fulfilling
his second ambition in life. His first ambition, to be a park ranger, remains
unfulfilled.
To connect with the author please visit his Facebook page at
https://www.facebook.com/whclarkauthor
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Thanks to my early readers Doug, Trisha, Rob, Alison,
Alison and Rachel for your time, feedback and suggestions.
Thanks to Eliza Dee at Clio Editing for making the
American bits make sense and for making the English bits make sense too. Any
errors and omissions are mine.
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