Conard County Witness

by Rachel Lee

  “Quit blaming yourself. You didn’t know this was going to happen. How could you? You’re right, I probably didn’t get followed all the way from Dallas, or I’d be dead right now. So how were you supposed to know that some weirdo might suddenly come after you? This hardly falls under the category of normal life events.”

  “I still feel badly.”

  “I’m sure you do. And you’re pretty quick to blame yourself for things that aren’t in your control.”

  Now it was his turn to look surprised. “What the hell do you mean?”

  She couldn’t even look at him. “You being home wouldn’t have saved Sara’s life, Jess. You need to accept that. Didn’t you hear what the doctor said? It happened so fast probably the only thing she ever noticed was that she was getting a stomachache. If you’d been standing right beside her, it wouldn’t have saved her.”

  “Lacy...”

  “How many more things do you blame yourself for? I can only imagine. Lives you couldn’t save because it wasn’t possible under the circumstances? For failing to find some miraculous way to get that officer back in line when he changed the mission? Do you take everything on your shoulders?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Maybe not,” she admitted, but the words kept tumbling out of her anyway, driven by something deep inside. “But I’ve been listening to you for a long time, Jess. I know you feel responsible because you weren’t there for Sara, even though nothing could have saved her. I hear it. And now you’re apologizing because you somehow should have known that some lunatic would make an appearance right after I arrived here?”

  “Lacy...”

  “Let me finish, because this is ripping me up.” And all of a sudden, it was, as if something locked deep away inside her had suddenly found voice and freedom, something she had hardly been aware of until right this moment. “Sara used to admire your sense of responsibility, but it worried her, too, Jess. Oh, she didn’t share personal details about you and her with me, but sometimes things came through. Worries about you. She was worried that going to war was especially hard on you. You know what she said to me, Jess?”

  His face had gone hard as stone. “Tell me,” he said tautly.

  “She said, ‘Lace, I’m worried about him. It’s all so personal, especially the civilians, the kids. I’m not sure he’ll be able to deal with it.’”

  “It’s personal for everyone,” he said harshly.

  “Of course. And lots of people live with nightmares for a long time. I get it. But she was worried about you, and she told me why, and then over the time since her death I’ve felt it in you, Jess. I don’t know how many faces you see when you close your eyes, but I know you’re taking blame for at least one thing you couldn’t have done anything about. And now you’re doing it again.”

  Now that all that had burst out of her, she realized she was shaking and verging on tears. Grabbing her mug, she left him, tottering into the living room and collapsing on the couch.

  Maybe she’d just been unbelievably cruel, but Sara’s concern, expressed a couple of times, then pushed aside as something she chose not to discuss in depth, had taken root somewhere deep inside Lacy. To hear Jess blaming himself for drawing her into possible danger had broken the lock on secrets unshared. Not that she needed anyone to tell her that Jess felt guilty for being away when Sara died. Of course he did. That was a normal human response, probably aggravated by the fact he was a medic and would always wonder if he could have recognized the signs early enough to save her...despite what the doctor had said.

  Sara wouldn’t want that. Of that Lacy was certain. She wouldn’t want Jess to always wonder if the doctor had simply given him a comforting lie, and she wouldn’t want Jess to feel in any way responsible for a failure of her own body, an aneurysm that had probably been there all along until finally it ruptured early one morning.

  But Lacy didn’t want Jess feeling responsible for dragging her into trouble, either. She’d already been in trouble, looking over her shoulder constantly, worried about every face in the crowd, wondering if she was being followed. Wondering if someone out there wanted her dead and was trying to make it happen. Jess wasn’t responsible for that. All he’d done was offer her a haven.

  Not his fault the haven had a demon living in it.

  * * *

  “It’s getting late.” Half an hour later, Jess crutched into the living room and stood a few feet away. “Don’t you want to sleep?”

  Lacy shook her head. “I’m so wide awake I could probably run five miles and not even feel it.”

  “You need a hamster wheel.”

  She glanced at him and tried a small laugh, even though she didn’t feel like it. Jess had offered her his home and his protection, and then she’d gone off on him like a shrew. She’d even analyzed him in a way she had no right to. She was no psychologist to begin with, and it was none of her business how he chose to grieve.

  “I feel pretty much the same,” he admitted. He swung by her and balanced himself on one leg and the crutch, while swinging open the stove door to throw another log inside. He let the influx of air cause the flames to leap all over it before he closed the door. At once the flames settled down to a friendlier glow.

  Then he returned to his rocker. Quite amazing, really, how well he managed with or without his leg.

  He rocked for a while, leaving her to wonder if he was giving her the silent treatment. Then he surprised her.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I feel guilty that I wasn’t there when Sara died. I’ll always feel that way. She shouldn’t have died alone, for one thing. For another...well, there’s just no freaking way that I can escape the fact that I might have recognized what was happening quick enough to do something. Yeah, I have enough training to know how slim that possibility is, but it exists.”

  She hesitated then asked, “Most people don’t survive that, do they?”

  “An aortic rupture? Some do if they get a warning, but the rest rarely do. It’s the biggest blood vessel in the body, and when it tears like that, your heart pumps the blood fast. She had a huge tear. So beyond all reason, I know that once it ruptured, probably nothing on earth could have saved her. But I’ll always wonder if she might have been having some kind of symptom beforehand that I might have caught.”

  Lacy swallowed, feeling an upwelling of grief, for him, for her, for Sara. “She was young. Who’d be imagining a fatal problem from some relatively minor symptom? What would she have had? An occasional tummyache?”

  “Maybe more.”

  “I know,” she said finally. “I read up on it. She might have had no symptoms at all. She might have had symptoms so minor and infrequent that she never mentioned them. The thing is, Jess, Sara wasn’t stupid. If she’d had severe pain, weakness, throbbing...any of the major symptoms that don’t always occur, do you think she would have ignored them?”

  He averted his face a moment. “Probably not,” he said finally.

  “Exactly. So if you’d been there when it happened, what? CPR and hope to get her to the hospital in time? The doctor told you it was a large rupture. That she wouldn’t have made it. Are you thinking he lied to you to ease your mind?”

  “No. Yes. Maybe.”

  She sighed and tucked her legs under her, propping her chin on her hand. “You’re a caretaker by nature, Jess.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You went to war as a medic. Now you’ve invited me into your home because I was afraid. You want to make everything better. You know you can’t always do that. It must be hard to live with.”

  He tilted his head to one side, studying her. “Why do I feel so damn naked right now?”

  For some crazy reason, she could almost have laughed. Then he smiled, as if to let her know she hadn’t offended him.

  “Nice analysis of
my character,” he said. “Very flattering.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be flattering. It’s just true. You didn’t go for the machismo of being a soldier, you chose to risk your neck to save lives. Says a whole lot to me.”

  There was a thud from the front porch just as the wind gusted. Both of them froze, then Jess said, “I wonder what just blew our way.”

  “I’ll go look.”

  “Don’t bother. Probably a dried-out piece of tree limb, or a plastic planter from someone’s porch.”

  But she was already on her feet, determined to look anyway. She needed to, needed to prove to herself that she hadn’t turned into a complete coward who wanted nothing but a safe hidey hole. Yeah, as if she could spend the rest of her life that way.

  Time to start acting again, even if it was a minor thing like looking out the front door. She was getting fed up with herself.

  She hurried, grabbing her jacket from the hook and stuffing her arms into it. She could hear Jess rising to follow, but this was something she needed to do for herself, alone, so she moved swiftly.

  The front door lock gave easily and she swung it open, expecting to see some branch out there. Instead she saw a piece of plastic pipe with caps on both ends. And something stuck to its side.

  She heard Jess only dimly as he cried, “Lacy, run to the back of the house. It’s a bomb.”

  Well, she already guessed that, didn’t she?

  The next thing she knew she was lying on top of it, covering it with her body.

  Chapter 10

  Jess froze for an instant, just an instant, braced for what was to come. Lacy lay curled over that length of pipe, exposed to the elements and at any moment he expected her to vaporize.

  “Get out of here, Jess.”

  Her voice sounded oddly calm. Steady. Determined.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “What’s the point of both of us dying? It could go at any second. Get out of here!” At last her voice rose to a shriek that drowned out even the endless wind.

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  But he couldn’t exactly move her. The bomb hadn’t gone off yet. Who knew what would trigger it? Moving it? Picking it up? A timer? He swore silently, every other word in his head a curse.

  Nor could he leave her out there to freeze to death, waiting for the damn thing to do its ugly work. His cussing became audible as he grabbed for his jacket and cordless phone and worked his way back to his bedroom while dialing 9-1-1.

  The sheriff’s dispatcher answered. “This is Jess McGregor. I’ve got an unexploded pipe bomb on my front porch and my houseguest is lying on top of it. Get out here now.”

  He pulled the pin from his pants, yanking up the material until he could pull on the silicone sock and jam his stump into the socket of his artificial leg, and his feet into boots. Then he grabbed every blanket off his bed and out of his closet. Hobbling back to the door, he felt the cold sucking every bit of heat out of the house. He didn’t care. Let it go. Let it all go.

  “Jess, I told you to get out.”

  “What if it’s a dud? I’m not letting you freeze to death.”

  He stood on the lintel and began to spread blankets all over her as best he could. By the time he was done, the cold had sliced through his sweats and all the way to his bones. He paused a moment to zip his jacket, knowing he’d be no good to anyone if he grew too hypothermic. “Don’t move,” he kept saying. “We don’t know what will trigger it.”

  “Just get out of here.”

  Anger stirred in him as shock gave way. What the hell had this woman been thinking? She should have closed the door and yelled for them to go out the back. Anything but this.

  Nightmares began crawling up from the depths of his being. He’d seen one of his buddies do exactly this to protect others. He’d hoped he’d never see it again. Nor did he need to see that damn thing go off to know what it could do. He’d seen that, too, and had relegated it to a locked place in his mind and heart.

  Lacy was crazy. Suicidal? He wouldn’t have thought so, but what did he know? People had done crazier things to protect others. But to protect him?

  “Lacy, why?” he demanded, terrified sorrow filling his heart as he spread the last of the blankets.

  “Too many movies?” she suggested, but if she meant to be funny it wasn’t working. “Jess, what’s the point if we both blow up? Back off.”

  He could hear her teeth starting to chatter. Over the wind he began to hear the wail of sirens. Help would be here soon, though what good they could do with Lacy lying on the bomb he couldn’t imagine.

  Dear God. He closed his eyes, and prayed harder than he had in a very long time. Let her be all right. Straightening, he leaned inside and grabbed his gloves. His hands would soon be useless, too, if he didn’t keep them warm.

  He squatted again, pulling a corner of the blanket up to cover her exposed cheek. “They’ll be here soon,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. Never mind that this county didn’t have anything approaching a bomb squad. But he couldn’t afford to think of that right now. “How you doing?”

  “I’d be doing a whole lot better if you’d get out of here.” Her chattering teeth made her almost unintelligible.

  “And I’d be doing a whole lot better if you’d yelled Bomb instead of throwing yourself on it. So here we are, and you’d better hope I don’t have to follow you to the gates of hell to find out why you did this.”

  Everything inside him felt as if it were shredding. His mind kept skipping into the past, then back to the present. He’d been here before. He was here again. For the love of God, was there no end?

  He wanted to grab her up in his arms and run with her, but knew better. Falling on that bomb may have started a trigger mechanism. Maybe it was a timer. If it wasn’t motion-activated, then he could pull Lacy away. But if it was, who knew what triggered it? Pressure on it, rather than dropping? Release of pressure, like the spoon on a grenade? Turning it upright? Too many questions, and any one of the answers could kill her.

  Her eyes were squeezed shut, and he saw a tear ease from one corner. He wiped it away, quickly, gently, so it wouldn’t freeze. “Don’t cry,” he whispered. “God, woman...”

  “Please go, Jess,” she said almost as quietly. “You’ve been through enough.”

  “And losing you would be nothing? Why?”

  She didn’t answer. At least she wasn’t shivering as hard, good if the bomb had some kind of motion trigger. But maybe she was getting that hypothermic. The medic in him kicked in, trying to judge her physical state. He’d worry about her mental state later...if she were around to worry about.

  He stared toward the road, seeing flashing lights in the distance. The fire company as well as the sheriff. He hoped to God they had some capabilities beyond those he already knew.

  “They’ll be here in a minute.”

  “I can hear,” she said, her voice now oddly steady. “I loved Sara, Jess.”

  “I know.”

  “That’s why.”

  “Somehow I think she’d be cussing you out right now.”

  “Yeah. Like you will when this is over.”

  He glanced at his watch, surprised how much time had passed. Why hadn’t the thing activated? It must be a timer, but timers could be unreliable. Or worse, the bomber had thought it would be in someone’s hands when it went off. Or what about remote detonation?

  Not likely, he decided. Any bomber who had planned that could see that his target, whichever of them it was, was out here now and vulnerable.

  God, the sins of his past were rising like black bubbles from a tar pit, suggesting possible reasons anyone could be after him. Because he didn’t believe this bomb was intended for Lacy. If someone wanted her, a bullet to the head would have been infinitely easier, and woul
d probably have already happened, even in Dallas. No, this killer was after him, and he had to figure out who it was and why.

  He’d have to wade into that tar pit, like it or not. Recall things he’d done his best to forget.

  But first, most important, his entire focus returned to Lacy. The past could wait. The present held enough terrors to damn him a hundred times over.

  “Lacy...”

  A sense of clarity settled over him, a feeling of the universe stilling, quieting the roiling agony and terror inside him. He had to get her off that bomb, and he needed to run with her away from the house. With each step, the blast wave and possible shrapnel would dissipate.

  He knew his own limitations when it came to running, but the chances were better than if he left her there and she took the full force of the explosion. Carrying her away would provide his back as protection, too.

  “Hang on,” he said, adjusting his position for better leverage.

  “Jess, what...”

  He closed his eyes for a split second, summoning every reserve of strength. Five feet. Ten feet. Then face down on the ground. It might save her.

  Without warning her, he took one quick step, scooped her up into his arms and began running as fast as he could on a leg that felt as if it weighed a ton and didn’t like being forced to this movement. Screw it. Screw it all.

  He had to try to save Lacy.

  She cried out a protest, but he scarcely heard her. He took the two steps in one leap, feeling the jolt all the way through his body, feeling his leg trying to lock up against the force. He refused to let it. Limping noticeably, he ran with the woman in his arms, blankets threatening to trip him. Each step meant another measure of safety.

  And with each step he expected to hear the explosion, feel the shockwave knock them down. Just get away from it.

  More steps, accumulating into ten feet, twenty feet. Then with sirens rolling closer, he dropped to the ground, covering Lacy with his body.