Burnt River (37 page)

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then let Lana go.”

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that? Does she love you?”

“Yes.”

“She hates you.”

“That’s not true. Tell him, Lana. Tell him what you said earlier.”

Lana started to speak but stopped. Her mouth snapped into a stubborn line. Tyler shook her so hard that she nearly fell to her knees.

“Tell him.”

She kept her mouth shut.

“If you have to hold a gun to Lana’s head to get her to say she loves you, it doesn’t count.”

Dylan took a step to the right and Tyler circled around with him. Dylan now had a clear view of the driveway. There was the slightest sway of the trees ringing the boulders and a flash as something reflective caught the light. He steadied his voice.

“You do know they’re coming for you? You killed a cop. You’re going to prison.”

Tyler’s hand was shaking so much he could barely hold the gun steady.

“I didn’t kill that cop.”

“No one is going to believe you.”

“I won’t go to jail.”

“Are you hoping someone will take you out of your misery, or will you do it yourself?”

Lana closed her eyes. She was muttering prayers under her breath. She was limp in Tyler’s grip, so close to collapse it appeared that he was all that was propping her up.

Dylan scanned the terrain beyond Tyler’s wide shoulders. He wasn’t imagining things. They weren’t alone. Someone was moving amongst the rocks to the left of his truck.

“What do you say? Are you ready to take one for the team? Should we pray for your soul?”

Tyler started crying. “I want you to tell Jeremy that I’m sorry.”

“If I really believed that, I’d call him right now.” He caught Tyler’s eye. “I’m asking you as a friend. Let Lana go. It will just be you and me. You know me. You trust me. We can talk this through.”

“No.”

“There’s still time to make this right. You let Lana go and it shows you’re sorry.” His voice cracked. “Don’t you see that?”

“Come on,” he said, jabbing the gun into Lana’s ribs. “I’ve had enough of this bullshit. We’re going back inside.”

Lana knocked Tyler’s hand away and started swinging her arms wildly.

“Let go of me. I hate you. You hear me, Tyler? I hate you.”

Tyler tried to keep hold of her, but she twisted from his arms and stumbled away, falling to her knees and crawling. Dylan jumped on Tyler before he had a chance to shoot. There was a sickening crunch as Tyler head-butted Dylan square in the face. The cartilage in Dylan’s nose splintered and blood poured down his chin. Locked in each other’s arms, they hit the ground fighting.

The gun went off in that same instant.

A crack.

A scream.

And all that pain that followed.

Dylan lay on his back, gasping for air. His ears were ringing and the acrid taste of sick pooled in the back of his throat. He reached over and wrenched the pistol from Tyler’s hand. As he pressed it to Tyler’s head, he squeezed his eyes shut and felt for the trigger. The metal crescent curved around his finger like a ring. It was a perfect fit.

“Do it,” said Tyler.

Dylan tossed the gun to one side and said, “Do it yourself.”

There were voices. Footfalls. Shouts. The static of a police radio. Dylan stared up into the cloudless sky, catching hold of that blue he loved so much.

Macy Greeley knelt next to him, long wisps of red hair escaping a ponytail. Her skin glowed white. She put an ice-cold hand to his cheek.

“Dylan, can you hear me? Help is on the way.”

She shouted instructions into a police radio she held in one hand while applying pressure to his wounded chest with the other. Blood gushed up between her fingers. It sprayed a fine arc of arterial red across her white T-shirt. He lay back and searched the sky for another hint of that blue. A helicopter hovered overhead, blocking out the midday sun.

“Hang in there.”

He gazed up into her pale face. She had freckles. They reminded him of summer. He closed his eyes.

It was going to be okay.

He was safe.

This time he was really going home.

27

The heat wave broke a little after midnight. Lightning strikes rattled the windows, waking Luke from what had already been a fractious sleep. He spent the rest of the night in Macy’s bed, his nose on her shoulder, his arms and legs flung wide. When the alarm went off, she untangled herself from the sheets, got dressed, and went downstairs to make breakfast. Her mother, Ellen, was standing at the back door looking out into the garden. She’d pulled her nightgown tight around. It was a hard rain. It overwhelmed the gutters and ran off the roof in a cascade. Ellen wiped away condensation from the glass.

“There was a hailstorm during the night. My flower beds are destroyed.”

“I heard. It sounded like golf balls were landing on the roof.”

“I’m not sure I’m happy that you’re taking Luke with you to Lindsay Moore’s funeral. Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

“The funeral was private. This is just the service. Besides, it will give people something positive to focus on. From what I understand, Lindsay hasn’t much in the way of family. A lot of people are bringing their kids.”

“I suppose Ray will be there with his family in tow.”

“It won’t be a problem.”

Macy went into the kitchen, poured a cup of coffee, and started preparing breakfast. “Mom,” she said, changing the subject. “About this friend who’s coming for dinner.”

“Aiden Marsh?”

She looked up from the bagel she was slicing in half. “Oh, I forgot I told you his name.”

“He’s very handsome. My girlfriends approve.”

“How do your girlfriends know what he looks like?”

Her mother sipped her coffee. “We Googled him. You didn’t tell me he was the chief of police. That certainly livened things up at lunch on Wednesday.”

Macy went over and wrapped her arms around her mother. Together they watched it rain.

“I have to remember not to give you names.”

“Will you promise not to rush into anything? You’ve got a lot of healing to do. Your relationship with Ray destroyed your confidence.”

“I don’t think I have much choice. Aiden lives up in Wilmington Creek and I live here. Anyway, this feels different. I like him, but I don’t need to be with him. If I didn’t hear from him again it would be fine.”

“Does he know about Ray?”

“Yes, and before you ask, he also knows Ray is Luke’s father.”

“What about at work? Do you think Ray is going to give you any trouble? He’s your boss. He could make your life miserable.”

“It’s because he’s my boss that he wouldn’t dare do anything. I could file a complaint, and he knows it. Anyway, after how everything went down, I’m pretty untouchable. He ended up looking kind of foolish.”

“One of your better results. Is there any news on Dylan Reed? You said you were going to make a call last night.”

“I left a message with his doctors, but they haven’t gotten back to me. As far as I know, he hasn’t woken up yet.”

“A lot of people are praying for him. And what about Lana Clark? I imagine she’ll be having nightmares her entire life.”

“I think she’s finally taking things into her own hands. I heard she’s been offered a book deal.”

The doorbell rang.

“This is early for a Saturday morning.”

“It might be a delivery. I’ll get it.”

Macy looked through the peephole. A hooded rain jacket framed Jessie Dalton’s pale face. Macy released the security chain and opened the door. They stared at each other across the threshold. Jessie’s jacket was sodden. A brand-new pickup truck was parked at the curb. Macy recognized the Dalton Ranch logo on the door.

“Jessie, how did you know where I lived?”

She pulled the hood back. “I came to your office yesterday to talk to you.”

“Did you follow me home?”

“I wanted to see you at work, but I lost my nerve.”

Macy looked out at the truck again. “Did you sleep in your car?”

She nodded. “It’s important. Can I come in?”

Macy called to Ellen before opening the door further. “Mom, can you go check on Luke?”

“Who is it?”

Macy gestured for Jessie to come in. “Jessie Dalton, this is my mother, Ellen. Ellen, Jessie.”

Ellen came forward and took Jessie’s hand. “You’re so cold. I’ll put on another pot of coffee before I go upstairs.”

Macy led Jessie to the living room. If it were possible, Jessie looked even thinner. She seemed to disappear between all the pillows lined up on the sofa. Macy pulled up a chair and sat across from her.

“How is Dylan? Has he woken up?”

She brightened. “For a few minutes yesterday. I’ve been with him all this time. I needed to be there when he opened his eyes.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No, he’s really weak. He recognized me though. He held my hand.”

“That’s a good sign.” Macy picked a stray feather from a pillow. “He’s lucky to be alive.”

“I don’t believe living was ever in his plans.”

“You’re going to have your hands full looking after him.”

“I know.”

“Are you in Helena to visit your mom?”

“That was the intention. I need to talk to her about the stuff she’s been saying. It may not make a difference but it will make me feel better.” She glanced at the family photos stacked three deep on the bookshelf. “Tyler’s lawyer called. He wants to know if I saw Tyler up at the ranch the afternoon Lindsay Moore died.”

“You have yet to give a statement to the police on that matter. Is there a reason you’re hesitating?”

“I can’t make up my mind whether I should lie. I figure Tyler should get whatever he deserves and more. If he gets sent down for killing a cop I figure they’ll make his life miserable.”

“That’s probably true.”

“I knew John was out repairing a fence on the eastern boundary that day so I rode out to meet him. I came over a rise and saw the two of them working together. They were digging new postholes. Tyler had his shirt off. All those tattoos and that bare head. Even from a distance I recognized him. He doesn’t know that I saw him. If I wanted to, I could keep quiet about it.”

“Why have you decided to speak out?”

“He couldn’t have killed Lindsay Moore. It doesn’t seem right that someone else gets away with it.”

“It does raise a lot of questions. There was a ballistics match. You see the confusion.”

“I read in the papers that she was pregnant.”

“Yes, somewhere between three and four months.”

“I think I know who the father might be.”

Ellen stood in the door with a tray of coffee cups and pastries. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, placing the tray on the coffee table and giving Jessie a pointed look. “You’ll eat something.” She touched Macy on the top of the head. “Luke is having his breakfast.”

“Thank you, Mom. Could you please close the door?”

Macy turned around to find that Jessie was staring directly at her.

“You seem nice,” said Jessie. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Macy tilted her head. “I don’t see how you could.”

“The night Ray Davidson was up at the ranch, I overheard him talking on his phone. He was leaving you a message. He was upset because he thought he was losing you and his son.”

“It’s been a trying time for all of us. I’ve decided it is best to move on. He wasn’t good for me.”

“I don’t think he was good for Lindsay Moore either.”

Macy put down her cup. “What are you trying to say?”

“I saw them together.”

“That’s not unexpected. She worked for him.”

“It wasn’t like that. They were a couple.”

Macy felt a fluttering in her chest. She cleared her throat. “Go on.”

“Do you know a bar called the Whispering Pines?”

“I’ve seen it. As I recall, it’s down near Walleye Junction. Right off Route 93.”

“That’s the one. A few of us met for drinks there to celebrate my girlfriend’s birthday. Monica and me went out back to smoke a cigarette, and they were out there too. I think they must have been drunk, otherwise they would have been more discreet.”

“They were having sex?”

“No, but they were all over each other. He had her backed up against the side of a car.”

“And you’re sure it was them?”

“When they were inside the bar I recognized Lindsay from seeing her around town. I didn’t realize it was Ray Davidson until I spoke to him up at the house.”

“Do you know the exact date?”

“Monica’s birthday is May third.”

“Sugar.”

“Pardon?”

Macy felt dizzy. She waved a hand. “I’m trying not to say shit so often because of my son…” Her voice trailed off. Aiden had said that he’d pulled Ray over for speeding sometime in early May. Lindsay was in the passenger seat. He’d also thought they were a couple. She needed to find out the exact date.

Jessie’s voice sounded far away. “What are you going to do?”

“That’s a very good question. You’re absolutely sure it was them?”

“I wasn’t the only one who saw them together. Monica said she’d back me up.”

Macy walked to the window and gazed out at the driving rain. She could hear Luke in the next room, giggling over his breakfast. She pictured Ray kissing his son’s forehead and smoothing his dark hair. They were so similar.

“Ray Davidson killed her, didn’t he? That baby she was carrying was his.”

“I’m afraid you’re probably right.”

Macy returned to her seat and took Jessie’s hands. They were warm now. “You have to be absolutely sure. Ray’s lawyers will try to discredit you. They’ll drag your entire history out in the open.”

“I could say the same thing about you. Everyone will know you were together, that he’s Luke’s father.”

“That can’t be a factor in your decision to give evidence.”

“I’ve spoken to Jeremy. He said he’d support me whatever decision I made.”

“That’s good to hear. I have a feeling you’re going to need him.” Macy glanced up at a photo of Luke. He’d lost a half sister or brother. “Lindsay’s funeral is on Tuesday.”

“Is she being cremated?”

“It’s what she wanted, but given how she died, her mother decided it would be in bad taste.”

“So there’s still evidence.”