Drift

by L T Ryan

  “I know. That’s what I’m trying to say. We were just lost in what we thought life was going to look like. But the point was, I thought whatever we ended up doing, it would be something we did together.” She attempted to control the warmth spreading up into her cheeks. “That was until you cheated on me. With my sister.”

  “I don’t know how to make it right. Like I said, I’m truly sorry.” His head dropped again. Looking up through the hair that had fallen across his face, he added, “And for what it’s worth, I’ve always considered you the one that got away.”

  Hatch disregarded the last comment. Dimples and kind words weren’t going to change things now. “It was for the best. You—I mean us—was what held me back. The thought of what our future held kept me stuck in this place. What you did actually freed me. I probably never would’ve left Hawk’s Landing if it wasn’t for you. So, thank you.”

  Cole looked genuinely surprised. “Rachel Hatch, thanking me? Well, I think this calls for another round.”

  Cole flagged the bartender and held up the now empty pitcher. A minute later, the pitcher was replaced with one brimming at the rim. He made a sloppy go of refilling each mug, splashing beer onto the table as he poured.

  “To the past. Leaving it where it belongs,” Cole said, raising his glass.

  Hatch reciprocated, raising hers.

  “Now that we’ve had our stroll down memory lane, tell me about Olivia. Can you think of anybody who’d want to hurt her?”

  Cole’s light-heartedness faded as he shook his head slowly. “No.”

  “My mom said she hadn’t dated since her husband died. But I’ve got a feeling that we could fill this bar with the things my mother doesn’t know. So, how about it? Any boyfriends lurking about?”

  “Not that I know of. She pretty much came to work and went home. Those kids were her life.”

  “I know. I just can’t figure out why somebody would want her dead.”

  “Why do you say that? I thought she drowned.” Cole leaned in and lowered his voice. “You’re asking questions like you think she was murdered.”

  “Things just don’t quite add up. Something in my gut tells me there’s more to it. I’ve learned to listen to it, and over the years, that instinct has served me well.”

  “You’re saying things aren’t adding up. Like what, for instance?”

  Hatch took a sip. “Water in the lungs.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She didn’t have any. There was no water in her lungs.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Drowning victims fight for air. It’s a body’s natural and instinctive need to survive. A person submerged under water will inhale, and there will be pools of water trapped in the lungs at the time of death. My sister didn’t have any.”

  Cole set his beer aside and seemed wholly mesmerized by the explanation she’d just given. “How do you know this stuff?”

  “It’s my job to know. At least it used to be.”

  “In the Army?” Cole crossed his arms.

  Hatch nodded, using the mug of beer to deflect any further pursuit into her past. She’d already taken an unintended walk down memory lane and had no interest in talking about the adventures of the last fifteen years with a man who’d never served. “Olivia had no issues with anybody at work? Didn’t piss somebody off?”

  “No. Everyone loved her. I was the one who’d gotten her the job after her husband died. He’d worked for the company as one of our heavy machine operators. Good guy. Olivia was given a life insurance payout, but it wasn’t much. And definitely not enough to keep her family afloat. So, I brought her in as a secretary for Mr. Chisolm. Figured it was the least I could do to help out.”

  “I’m sure she appreciated that.”

  Cole shrugged and gave a bashful grin.

  “What does your company do exactly? They weren’t around while I lived here.”

  “They’re basically a natural resource company. They’ve been mining the area around Nighthawk Lake. The company has European oversight, but took on the Nighthawk name to make it more endearing to the local community.”

  “What are they mining around here? Silver?”

  “The silver mines that founded this town are long since gone. Nighthawk Engineering found a deep pocket of Uranium here in Hawk’s Landing and have been working to excavate it.”

  “Uranium? Isn’t that dangerous?”

  “Not the way they do it. Chisolm runs things. It’s a green company. The mining is done using state-of-the-art techniques to minimize any risks of contamination. We actually are working to better serve the local tribal lands by redesigning the water lines from the lake’s reservoir that feeds those communities. They’ve basically pumped new blood into the local economy, bringing the town back from the brink of financial collapse. I know you’ve been gone a while, but after you left and the last silver mining operation closed, we hit hard times.”

  Hatch remembered tough times. Especially after her father’s death. “And what is it you do exactly as Executive of Operations?”

  “I’m really more of a face man for the company. Like I said, they’re an overseas operation run by Danzig Holdings. The people of Hawk’s Landing weren’t taking too kindly to a foreign company coming in and trying to dig up the land. Money or not, they were seen as outsiders and met with heavy resistance. So, hiring local boys helped in gathering support from the towns and cities around the world where they operate.”

  “And I guess you were the man for the job?”

  He smiled. The dimples returned in all their glory. “Why not? I was the quarterback who led the team to the state championship our senior year.”

  She rolled her eyes. “If I recall, we lost that year.”

  “People still talk about that game around here.”

  “Continue.”

  “So, anyway, I help recruit locals to work the mines. Most of the time, I’m stuck in boring meetings with the town council arguing about land restrictions and boundary lines.” He drained the remnants in his mug. “My title sounds a lot better than it is. To be honest, it’s pretty boring. But it pays the bills. Which is more than I could say before they arrived in town.”

  “That’s important. Especially when you’re providing for your kids.”

  Cole pushed back from the table and stood, looking at his watch. He pulled his phone from his pocket and said, “Reminds me, I’ve got to check on the sitter. And then hit the restroom. Give me a minute. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  Cole walked around to the other side of the bar and disappeared from view down the hallway leading to the restrooms. Hatch thought hard about using this as an opportunity to make her departure, feeling she’d learned as much as she probably would from Cole regarding her sister and former employer. From his explanation, it seemed as though she’d need to examine other possibilities. To do that, she’d need to retrace the investigation from its beginning. But she’d have to wait until morning for that. She decided it couldn’t hurt to spend a couple more minutes with Cole.

  She shifted in her seat and eyed the exit as an outbreak of noise erupted above the sound of the music. A large man in a black and red plaid flannel who could’ve been a stunt double for Paul Bunyan was in a heated argument with what Hatch deduced was his girlfriend. He towered over the girl. She was standing in defiance, but, even from her distance, Hatch could see her body quaking with fear. It was nearly impossible to hear the exchange of words, but whatever the conversation, it wasn’t going in the girl’s favor.

  Hatch surveyed the other patrons in the bar. None were paying any mind to the developing situation or they were intentionally ignoring it. Knowing the townsfolk the way she did, it was most likely the latter. Intentional blindness had been around since the dawn of time. People turning a blind eye to the injustice of others. Hatch’s code forbade her from looking the other way.

  Help good people and punish those who hurt others.

  The bi
g lumberjack of a man snatched the girl’s wrist and raised his hand, slowly closing his fist for added measure. Loud words accompanied the man’s gesture, but it was obvious from his posturing, he’d soon be trading them for violence. The two were about ten feet away from Hatch, but she was already on the move, closing the distance.

  Hatch caught the tail end of the man’s words as she got closer. “—you’re never going to open your stupid mouth to me again because it will be wired shut when I’m done with you.”

  His hand was already in motion, a closed fist hurtling toward the girl’s cheek. A massive ball of flesh and bone set on a collision course with the delicate jawline of the girl cowering before him.

  The man’s expression, one of absolute hatred, changed to one of utter confusion as the direction of his intended blow changed.

  Hatch shoved hard on the outside of the man’s elbow, using his momentum to guide the descending haymaker out of its intended path and off to the left of the girl’s face. Taking advantage of his off-balance state, Hatch dipped low and then sprung upward, slamming her shoulder into his armpit while hooking her ankle around his. The effect was immediate, and the man fell like a tree, crashing noisily into a neighboring table before landing on the hard floor, the impact sending several empty beer bottles into the air.

  Dazed, the man rolled to his back in search of his attacker. Hatch now towered over him and the shock on his face at seeing it had been a girl who’d bested him was its own reward. She took a mental snapshot of the expression.

  He tried to right himself, slipping on the wet peanut shells coating the floor. “What the f—”

  The last word of his sentence was cut short as Hatch’s heel stomped down on the bridge of his nose. She felt the crunch of bone under foot.

  The man groaned. His hands shot up, covering his face. Blood escaped, oozing through the gaps in his thick fingers.

  Not waiting for him to recover, she knelt beside him and snatched his right hand. She maintained control of the wrist with one hand while locking in his pinky finger with the other. “This is the hand you were going to use to damage that girl’s face. Yes?”

  He squirmed, shifting his weight and spitting the blood draining into his mouth. She tightened the grip, locking his wrist and seizing the opportunity to retaliate. Before he could reply, Hatch torqued the wrist in one direction while she simultaneously pulled at the clasped finger, jerking it in a direction it was never intended to bend. The snap of the break was loud enough to hear over the music playing in the background. But the sound of it was almost drowned out by the man’s high-pitched scream.

  Hatch stood up, leaving the man to writhe in painful response to his two broken bones.

  The girl she’d just saved from certain devastation stared blankly, her jaw slack. “Thanks.”

  “You can do a lot better than him.”

  The girl slipped away, moving quickly out of the bar as Cole returned. He was trying to shove his phone into his pocket while staring wide-eyed at the man on the floor.

  “My God! I leave you for two minutes and you’re in a bar room brawl?”

  Hatch moved toward the door, the eyes of the other bar goers following her as she did so. “Probably best we get going.”

  She stepped out of Miller’s Walk. The commotion faded to quiet as the door closed. Cole was one step behind her, rushing to keep up. The girl she’d protected was nowhere in sight. Hatch felt an air of satisfaction from her deed.

  Cole grabbed her by the shoulder. She still felt the controlled energy of the short but intense scuffle and spun with her fist clenched. It was a heated response and one that quickly dissipated at the sight of Cole’s face. He was worry-stricken, his eyes darting between her and the closed door to Miller’s Walk.

  “Do you know who that was back there?”

  She released her fist and then brushed his hand from her shoulder. She was the same height as Cole and met his worried eyes with a steely reserve. “No. And should it matter? He was about to crush that girl’s face.”

  “That was Bill Chisolm.”

  “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

  “Obviously not. But to the people around here, it does. His father, Simon, owns Nighthawk Engineering. He’s been here since the company first came to town, and now they pretty much own the place. I told you their money is the lifeblood of the economy around here. And with that comes power.”

  “Guess you forgot. I don’t live in Hawk’s Landing anymore. And nobody owns me. His power didn’t seem to help out in there.”

  “Everybody isn’t your enemy, Rachel. You’re not on the battlefield. Some of us have to work and raise a family here. We can’t go around biting the hand that feeds us.”

  “Even if that hand is hurting people?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “To me it is.”

  “He must’ve been drunk. I’ve known Bill for many years, and I’ve never seen him lose his temper like that before.”

  “One time is enough.”

  Cole sighed. “What do you want me to do? Go back in there and kick him in the head again? Because I’m pretty sure you got your message across loud and clear.”

  “I don’t need you to do anything.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.”

  Hatch walked over to her beat up pickup. Unlocking it, she pulled the driver’s door open with a loud creak.

  “Listen—don’t worry about Bill. I’ll try to clear things with him tomorrow when he’s sobered up.”

  “I’m not worried about him. Guys like him you can see coming a mile away.”

  “Rachel, just let me smooth this over. It’ll be better for everyone if I do.”

  Cole walked to his brand-new Jeep Rubicon. It was a dark gray with light specs embedded in the coat, giving it a glittering effect under the parking lot’s yellow light.

  “Fancy car. Tell me, Cole, are you doing this for me or for you?”

  “In the end, does it matter?”

  “Everything matters.”

  Cole entered his Jeep and drove away.

  Hatch sat for a second, letting the engine settle before putting it in gear. She pulled out and headed in the opposite direction. It wouldn’t be long before the news of her barroom altercation circulated its way around town. She knew how things worked and wondered what the fallout would be.

  In the morning, she’d be heading to the spot where her sister’s body was found. Hopefully, as day broke, so would some clarity into why her sister had ended up floating in the lake. But for now, all Hatch wanted was to get home and wash the stink of Bill Chisolm off.

  9

  Hatch showered, letting the hot water roll along the contours of her body. It felt good to wash away the smell of Miller’s Walk from her skin, though she wasn’t sure about the floral soap her mother stocked. She thought about the big man she’d dropped at the bar. It was a simple response to a simple threat. And at the time, the decision made perfect sense. Her heroics could have backfired, and she had enough experience to know the possible chain reaction of interfering in the personal affairs of others, no matter how outwardly dire. She was happy the girlfriend accepted her protection and didn’t rush to her bleeding boyfriend’s aid.

  It had happened to Hatch more times than she could count in her early years as a military police officer. Working domestic violence cases on military bases was like being on the job anywhere else. The only difference, and one Hatch never took lightly, was each domestic she’d handled was among trained soldiers and their spouses. It’s a challenge to walk into a house where you know the perpetrators are combat-trained veterans. Most homes had weapons and the situations were volatile at best.

  Many times, she’d be in the middle of arresting an abuser, and the victim would jump in and physically try to intervene, sometimes to the point of violence. On one particular occasion, Hatch had been called to the residence of a twice-passed-over major. His anger and frustration at his latest failure to make the grade to lieuten
ant colonel sent him over the edge.

  He spent most of the day drowning himself in a bottle of Crown Royal. When that failed to placate the rage, he took it out on his wife, who’d just returned from work. After smashing the bottle over her head, he began making preparations to burn his officer’s quarters to the ground. A neighbor walking her dog had overheard the commotion and called it in. Hatch was a specialist at the time and was dispatched to the location. Her backup was new to the base, having just transferred in, and couldn’t find the house.

  Procedure dictated Hatch wait until backup arrived before entering into a domestic disturbance. While standing outside the front door of the residence, she heard glass shatter and a woman scream. Her backup just announced on the radio he’d got his bearings and was two minutes out. Hatch, concerned for the safety of the woman, entered the residence.

  As soon as she entered, Hatch smelled an accelerant. The strong odor of gasoline was dizzying. The major was yelling from inside the kitchen. She heard the opening and slamming of drawers. Whatever he was searching for couldn’t be good.

  Hatch made her way into the hallway leading to the kitchen. He stepped in front of her, holding a lighter. He was so drunk, the shirtless major barely noticed Hatch standing there. She remembered the look of surprise as he registered the MP pointing a gun at his chest.

  In the game of rock, paper, scissors, everybody knows gun always trumps lighter. The major must’ve come to the same conclusion because before any command was given, he broke into tears, dropping the lighter to the ground.

  As she placed cuffs on him, Hatch was struck from behind. Her assailant was the abused wife, the same woman who’d taken a bottle to the head earlier. She now clung to Hatch’s back, screaming wildly about not arresting him and how this was her fault. Hatch ended up having to shoulder toss the woman off and was in the process of applying cuffs to her when her backup finally strolled in. She learned some important lessons that day. Everybody’s a threat until proven otherwise. Be prepared to go it alone should the situation dictate. She was deployed a month later, where those two life lessons proved more valuable than she could’ve ever imagined.