Relative Impact

by Trevor Scott

  Max reached his hand out to shake, but the doctor instead gave him a big hug. Then she wandered toward the staircase.

  Robin smacked Max on his right biceps. “You moron. I think she wants you to ask her out.”

  He shook his head. “She was just being nice.”

  “She scanned your body like an MRI,” she said. “Anyway, get dressed. You should also say goodbye to your Aunt Anna and the others.”

  “What about giving statements?” he asked.

  “Those of us who hid in the room upstairs are done doing so,” Robin said. “Bobby and Frank also gave their statements. The only one left is you. And yours might take a while.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost nine.”

  “Crap. No wonder I’m hungry. What did you eat?” Max rushed around the room getting dressed with fresh clothes.

  “We scrounged in the kitchen,” Robin said. “Come down and I’ll make you some eggs.”

  “Is the dead guy gone?”

  “Long gone. They even hosed down the kitchen floor to get rid of most of the blood.”

  “What about forensics?” He checked out his hiking boots, but they were still soaked from the night before. But he had a spare pair of running shoes in his duffle bag, so he put those on.

  “The sheriff’s deputies had a guy from the state come in and collect evidence. With all that’s happened, the state might decide to take over the case.”

  Max laughed. “That lame sheriff would love that. He’d like to wipe his hands of the entire matter.”

  “He was overwhelmed last night,” she said. “But he’s stepped it up this morning. He’s not a bad guy.”

  Max started to leave, but then stopped and looked around the room. His guns would need a good cleaning. But for now, he went to the nightstand and grabbed his Glock, clicking it to his web belt.

  As he walked downstairs, he noticed that the power was back on. “Did the power company come out last night?”

  Robin said, “No, Frank fixed the generator. But the power company is working on the line down the hill. As suspected, the men cut all the lines down by the entrance at the main road. Phone landline is already fixed.”

  “Now the biggest problem is all of our flat tires,” Max said. “I’ve been meaning to get new ones anyway.”

  They got downstairs and Max saw that there were still a lot of sheriff’s deputies hanging around. It was like they had moved into the estate.

  He ignored them for now and went to his Aunt Anna, whom he didn’t really get to talk with much last evening. She was standing next to the doctor.

  Anna gave Max a big hug and then said, “You need to come over to Hanover for a visit. We have a little place on a nearby lake.”

  Kamala laughed. “It’s a massive place. Gorgeous.”

  “I’d say we should have had our little reunion over there,” Max said. “But I’m afraid those men might have trashed the place.”

  “It is what it is,” Anna said. “You could also come to Boston and meet my husband.”

  “Is he still stuck in New Hampshire?”

  “Not exactly stuck. Once the weather cleared, they flew up to Hanover. He’s waiting for me at our lake house.”

  “They were going to fly over and pick us up,” Kamala said, “but I didn’t want to leave my car here.” The doctor hesitated and then added, “You really should come to visit before heading back to Nevada.”

  “We’ll think about it,” Max said, giving his sister a glance.

  They hugged all around one more time before leaving.

  “Here’s the guy who took on an entire Iranian gang,” the sheriff said, walking over to Max gingerly, his hand out to shake.

  Max squeezed down on the man and then looked around. “Is this the new sheriff’s annex?”

  “You’d think so,” the sheriff said. “We’re in a jurisdictional battle with the state police. They came out a few hours ago and hauled away the bodies in a big truck. There were just too many for our local ME to handle. After a quick background on some of the men, the state seems to think this might be an act of terror. A couple of the men had known ties to Hezbollah.”

  “Probably former Iranian Quds Force,” Max surmised.

  The sheriff snapped his fingers. “That’s what the state police said.”

  Max felt a little better about what happened the night before, now that he knew former Iranian special forces had been involved.

  “We’re kind of waiting for your full report,” the sheriff said.

  “I need coffee and food,” Max said.

  “I’m on it,” Robin said, heading off toward the kitchen.

  “If you have a laptop I can use, this will go much faster.”

  The sheriff waved to one of his men sitting behind the desk, who lifted an open laptop toward Max.

  Max took the laptop and headed off toward the dining room, where he set up to type in his statement. There alone for a short while, his sister came in with the coffee and set it on the table next to him.

  “It’s Christina’s coffee,” Robin said. “But I can’t operate their cappuccino machine.”

  “Where is Christina?” he asked, his fingers still typing his report.

  “In Bennington with her mother. Remember, Jackie was shot.”

  “Right. Surgery?”

  “She came through it great,” Robin said. “Kamala did a really nice job with what she had.”

  “And Martha?”

  “Same hospital. She should be released later today. When the forensics folks were here, we rummaged through the kitchen. We found pine nuts were used in the gravy. It looks like a total accident.”

  “That actually makes sense,” he said. “Where’s Pasquale?”

  “Hospital with Christina. He thinks his ex-wife will use this shooting on her crusade against guns.”

  “She would never do that,” Max said, holding back a smile. “But it will make a nice story for her classroom.” He tried to remember a sequence of events from the night before, and then finally knew how it went, so he typed away. “Are you making eggs?”

  “Right. What do you want?”

  “Surprise me. I’m easy.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard,” she said, leaving for the kitchen again.

  He typed and took sips of coffee as he kept his ears open for conversations out in the foyer. The younger deputies were talking about the night before, as if they had actually done something. Max made sure to put the number of times he had tried to get the sheriff’s deputies to move in. In reality, though, he guessed it was probably safer all around that those extra men were not involved. Somebody could have gotten shot or killed in the crossfire.

  Not long after leaving, Robin came in with an omelet and English muffin. “Is this enough?”

  “That’s fine, sis. Hey, where are the Boston cousins?”

  “Down the hill with their car,” she said. “They called in their tire size and a local company brought in a temporary spare. Only the front two tires were shot out. They said they’d come up to say goodbye before driving back to Boston.”

  Max took a few minutes to wolf down his breakfast, washing it down with some orange juice.

  “I’ve got more coffee,” she said.

  He handed her his empty cup. “Thanks, girl.”

  Once she was gone, he went right back to typing. He was almost done with his report. It was likely he could write one of these in his sleep, he thought.

  Robin came back with his coffee and set it in front of him. Then she took a seat across from him. “Have you thought about going to Boston?”

  “I’m not sure if we have time. Don’t you need to get back to your law practice?”

  “I’m on vacation,” she said. “You know my status there. I can take all the time I need. And you’re retired.”

  He knew she was right. But he also knew something she didn’t know. “Why don’t you go to Boston,” he suggested.

  “Alone?”

  “You co
uld ride back with Mike and Britt. Then fly back to Salt Lake.”

  Her eyes shifted toward the door. “What are you doing?”

  “Typing my report,” he said.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “You want me to go over to visit the doctor,” he said. “What would that accomplish? Perhaps we get some mutual satisfaction for a minute. Then what?”

  “I hope you last longer than a minute.” She smiled.

  “You know what I mean. She’s here and I’m there. Besides, I kind of like the relationship I’m in with Martina.”

  “I didn’t know you two were still seeing each other,” Robin said.

  “When we can. She works a lot.”

  “And she’s in Florida,” Robin reminded him.

  “She’s been offered a position in San Diego. It’s a step up for her.”

  “Will she take it?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “That’s a lot closer than Florida.”

  “Seven hundred miles. About an eleven-hour drive almost straight south from Wells.”

  “Ten hours the way you drive.”

  He smiled and finished the last of his report. Then he read it over and made a few minor changes and saved the file.

  “All done,” he said.

  “That was fast.”

  “Just the facts, ma’am.”

  Max sensed movement to his left and he saw his cousins from Boston stroll in.

  “He’s alive,” Britt said.

  “Barely.” He stood up and gave them each a hug. He had hugged more on this trip than any other time in his past. He guessed family brought that out of him.

  “We’re just about ready to head back to Boston,” Mike said. “We intended to stay another day, but once we told our bosses what happened, they ordered us to come home.”

  “You mean your wife and her husband?” Max asked.

  Britt rolled her eyes and said, “You got that right.”

  “I would love to come for a quick visit,” Max said. “But an old friend from the Air Force living in Iowa said he really needed me to stop by. If it wasn’t an emergency, I’d definitely come. But Robin could go with you and then fly back to Salt Lake from there.”

  “He’ll make up any excuse to not drive over two thousand miles with me again,” Robin said. “Is it okay with you?”

  “Absolutely,” Britt said.

  “You can stay with either of us,” Mike chimed in. “Your choice.”

  “Are you leaving now?” Robin asked.

  Britt nodded.

  “Let me get my bag,” Robin said, and left for her room upstairs.

  Once Robin was gone, Mike said, “Hey, we heard that a couple of the guys killed last night had terrorist ties.”

  “That’s what the sheriff said.”

  Britt said, “Although our spouses wanted us back in Boston, our leadership did order us back to brief them.”

  “I’ll send your department a copy of my report,” Max said. “You two were instrumental in taking those men down. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second,” Britt said. “You were like a one-man wrecking crew.”

  “You two engaged the main group before they got to the estate,” Max said. “If they had simply attacked us, they could have probably taken out a lot of people. There would have been a different outcome. Besides, you occupied them long enough for me to pick a couple of them off down the hill.”

  “You’re being very generous,” Britt said.

  “Hey, I’m retired. I don’t need any more Yankee Doodles.”

  Britt and Mike looked confused.

  “Feathers in my cap,” he explained.

  Robin came down and was waiting in the foyer when Max, Britt and Mike came out from the dining room.

  “You might have a few things left in the truck,” Max said to Robin.

  “Mostly dirty clothes,” Robin said. “You can get those to me later.”

  They said their final goodbyes and Max watched them head out to the sedan waiting out front.

  He handed the laptop to the young deputy. “All done,” Max said. “Print it and I’ll sign it.”

  The sheriff pulled Max aside and said, “I owe you an apology. I made some tactical errors last night. I didn’t think we had enough information to move on the estate.”

  “You didn’t,” Max admitted. “But sometimes it’s better to move in and act instead of waiting for perfect information. That may never come.”

  “Good point.”

  The deputy had printed up Max’s report and he set in on the front desk table for Max to sign. He scanned it quickly for any errors and then signed at the bottom. He also initialed the other pages.

  “Thanks,” the sheriff said. “By the way, I got a call from your cousin Frank. He’s on his way back from town with a guy from the tire shop. The tire guy said he’d hook you up with a good deal on four tires.”

  “Thanks.”

  He went to the living room and glanced about as he heard the sheriff and all of his deputies pull out of the parking lot. Someone had patched the windows where that first man had shot at them. Another use for duct tape.

  In no time the tire guy came with his truck and Max watched as his cousin got out of the front passenger seat.

  Max met Frank in the foyer. “How you doing, cousin?” Max asked.

  “Tired,” Frank said. “I got about two hours of snooze time before I fixed the generator. Where is everyone?”

  “You probably passed the cops on the way here.”

  “Yeah, we did. I see my mom and the doctor are gone.”

  “Have you considered asking out Kamala?”

  Frank shook his head. “She dates professional types, not electricians.”

  “You’re a small business owner,” Max reminded his cousin.

  “Yeah, but still.”

  “You’ve gotta get out there, Frank. Don’t be afraid to take a chance. If she says no, then you’ll have your answer. But if you never get in the game, you can never win.”

  “Isn’t that a lottery slogan?”

  “I don’t know,” Max said. “I don’t gamble.”

  “You’re from Nevada and you don’t gamble?”

  Max shrugged. “I don’t like the odds.”

  “I hear ya, cousin.” Frank glanced out the window and saw that the tire guy was heading back to his truck after looking over Max’s vehicle. “You’ll need to tell him what you want and his guys back in Manchester will build them and drive them out here for you. He’s going to put on my new ones in a minute so I can get on the road.”

  Max reached out his hand to shake. They turned their shake into a man hug, bumping shoulders.

  He went out and quickly picked out tires from a book of pamphlets, which the guy called in to his shop. Then Max watched as his cousin and the tire guy went down to change his tires.

  Max was preoccupied with what he still needed to do. But his first task would be to clean his guns.

  25

  Two days had passed since Robin left the estate in the Green Mountains of Vermont. She had stayed with Britt and her family in a small two-story house near Cambridge. She had also gone to dinner at her cousin Mike’s place the night before. But she had not met her mother’s brother yet. He had been out fishing off the coast of Newfoundland with friends for the past week.

  Now, Robin and Britt sat in a corner booth of Ryan’s Pub, the bar and restaurant owned by Uncle Curtis Ryan. Mike was at the bar picking up three beers for them.

  “You’ve been preoccupied with your phone,” Britt said. “Is everything alright?”

  “I hope so,” Robin said. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with my brother, but he’s not answering my texts or my calls.”

  “Is that unusual? I text Mike and he gets back with me in a week. By then I’ve forgotten why I contacted him in the first place.”

  Mike seemed to sense they were talking about him. He turned and lifted his chin.


  “It’s probably nothing,” Robin agreed. “I used to try to contact him in the military, and he would eventually get back with me. But it took a while.”

  “Wasn’t he overseas a lot?”

  “Of course. But this was the last couple of years of his military career. He was finishing his master’s degree online and running a detachment as an Air Force captain.”

  “Why did he get out?” Britt asked.

  “I don’t know for sure. He was burned out. I think he still deals with some PTSD issues.”

  “It’s horrible what they’ve put our military through over the years.”

  “That’s the nature of the job,” Robin said.

  Mike came over with the beers and set them on the table. “What’s the nature of the job?” he asked.

  “Keeping you men in line,” Britt said. “Minding your own damn business.”

  “Hey, sis, I’m just trying to drink a damn beer here. Do you bicker with your brother?”

  “We’re twins,” Robin said. “So, yeah. More than I’d like to admit.”

  “He’s one badass,” Mike said. “He should come out here and work for us.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Robin said. “He’s earned the Silver Star, two Bronze Stars with Valor, and three Purple Hearts.”

  “Wow,” Britt said. “It must run in the family. Mike has earned a Boston Police Medal of Valor.”

  “That was nothing,” Mike said. “I just happened to be the closest man to the call. It’s not like I had a choice.”

  “Kind of what happened in Vermont,” Britt said.

  “On that subject,” Mike said. “I got word that they want to recognize us for our actions there. I guess Max said some good things. So did the sheriff out there.”

  “Max should get something for his actions,” Britt said.

  “That’s Vermont. It’s out of our hands.”

  Robin checked her phone again and then said, “He probably wouldn’t want any of that. Max is a very humble guy. He’s been offered positions in a number of organizations, including the FBI. But he has his reasons for staying private.”

  “He has his military retirement, right?” Mike asked.

  “Yes, of course. But I’m concerned about him.”

  Mike leaned across the table and said, “Why? What’s going on?”