“Who’s this?”
“That’s Hayley’s long-suffering husband.”
Macy steps away from the picture. “That’s one big walleye.”
“Arnold broke the state record that year. That fish weighed nearly eighteen pounds.”
“I suspect you got pretty bored with cooking walleye.”
“No, not at all. Coming up with new recipes was part of the fun. We even tried smoking some but it didn’t turn out very well.”
Macy takes a deep breath. “Elizabeth, I’m sorry, but I have to ask you what you know about your husband’s business dealings?”
“Why? What does that have to do with what’s happened?”
“Other than Grace’s room, your husband’s office was the only part of the house that was disturbed. There’s evidence to suggest Leanne’s killer has taken away the entire contents of one of the filing cabinets.”
“My husband was away a lot for work. He had a whole life I knew nothing about.”
“He was in business for thirty-three years. That’s most of your married life. I have a hard time believing you were never involved.”
Elizabeth looks down at her hands. “I know what you’re trying to do and you’re not going to get away with it. Arnold was cleared of any wrongdoing.”
“Did he have any enemies?”
“The trucking industry is a rough business. I’m sure Arnold had enemies. I just have no idea who they were.”
“Did Arnold keep cash in his office?”
“I didn’t find anything like that when I cleared out some stuff a few months ago. Why?”
“We found evidence that there was once a manila envelope secured with masking tape to the bottom of one of the overturned drawers. We don’t know if it was recent or not so we don’t know if whoever broke in found it.”
Elizabeth presses a tissue to her eyes as she starts to cry. “I’m sorry, I’m just so worried about Grace.”
“I know you are, but please try to think. Do you remember seeing a manila envelope? It would have been letter sized?”
“No, I don’t recall seeing anything like that.”
Macy puts her palms flat on the table and thanks Elizabeth for her time. “I’d best get you back to the hospital. Grace will be expecting you.”
Elizabeth blows her nose before reaching for her purse. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Did you find Arnold’s gun?”
“No, we haven’t found any firearms. Why?”
“Arnold knew I hated the things but after he died I found a box of shells in the garage so I know he lied and got one anyway. Since he passed away, I’ve been looking for it everywhere. I don’t want it in the house.”
10
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Brian Camberwell was never one to waste his time on small talk.
Jared was about to knock on Hayley’s door but now Brian is right behind him, pressing up against his back. Cellophane-wrapped flowers crackle and pop. The smell of aftershave and sweat fills the hospital corridor. Brian’s words glance off the top of Jared’s head, raising the hairs.
“I asked you a fucking question. You’re high if you think I’m letting you anywhere near my wife.” Brian puts his palm flat on the door.
Beyond Brian’s thick knuckles, Jared sees Hayley propped up in bed looking more dead than alive. Her dark-circled eyes are closed, and he has to remind himself that she’s only sleeping. Her two heavily bandaged wrists are stretched out on either side. When Jared notices the gauze is covered with the pale pink ribbons, he almost smiles. Jared has spoken to the doctors. He knows the exact number of stitches required—eighteen in one wrist and twenty-five in the other. He presses his forehead to the cool glass and comes close to crying instead.
Jared’s voice is weary. “I’m just checking on her.”
With a beefy grip, Brian spins Jared around and shoves his back into the door. It rattles in its frame but holds. Unlike Jared, Brian is broad, bordering on fat. His thick forehead overhangs his eyes, putting his entire face in shadow. Jared watches the ceiling lights blink on and off above Brian’s shoulders. The flowers are crushed between them and the cellophane bag pops open. The cheap yellow blooms are level with Jared’s chin. His eyes flick up at Brian and he holds the other man’s gaze. There was a time when they’d been civil, but then Hayley happened and everything changed. They’ve not spoken to each other in years.
Brian steps away, putting a little space between them. “I don’t want you anywhere near her.”
Jared pretends to sniff the air. “You know what,” he says, pushing hard against Brian. “You fucking stink.”
The blow to the side of Jared’s head knocks him flat on the ground and for a few seconds the world goes black. Brian grabs at Jared’s shoulders, trying to pull him up to his feet, but Jared won’t stay upright. His vision is blurred and he thinks he might be sick. Brian’s steel-toed boots are dangerously close. Jared imagines them breaking his ribs and shattering his skull. Brian kneels down and shouts at him, but to Jared the words sound like drumbeats in a well. Looking beyond the yellow carnations scattered across the floor, Jared sees Lexxie running down the hall toward them. A couple of burly orderlies he doesn’t recognize race after her. Jared curls up tighter and hopes he’ll disappear.
“Get your hands off him!” Lexxie pulls at Brian’s shoulders, flinching when Brian twists around and raises a fist.
The orderlies pile onto the little group and Jared is caught between Brian’s solid back and the door. The two orderlies wrestle Brian away. One of them has him in a headlock. As the pressure increases, Brian’s face turns a murderous shade of purple. His curses fade when his words lose oxygen. He bows his head and but for his eyes, he’s finally still. He breathes through his fat mouth and glowers at Jared.
But then Lexxie is high on her toes and right up in Brian’s face, her words rat-a-tat-tatting like gunfire.
“You ungrateful shit,” she yells, her red mouth widening and the tendons in her neck as sharp as razors. She jabs a finger in Jared’s direction. “This man saved your wife’s life.”
Brian tries to muscle his way toward Jared again but goes slack when Macy steps between them.
Macy flashes her badge in his face. “Let’s all calm down now, shall we?” She puts a hand on Lexxie’s arm. “Nice work, darling, but I think I’ll take it from here.” She gazes into Brian’s purple face. “You gonna play nice now or do I need to take you in for questioning?”
Brian mumbles something she can’t quite catch.
“Louder and with more respect, if you don’t mind.”
Brian apologizes and Macy gives the signal to the orderlies to release their grip. She glances over at Jared, who’s being attended to by Lexxie.
She takes out her notebook and looks up at Brian. “You gotta name?”
“Brian Camberwell, ma’am.”
“Aside from assault and battery, what is it that you actually do, Mr. Camberwell?”
“I’m a long-haul trucker, ma’am.”
“Does this look like some roadside bar to you, Mr. Camberwell?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I shouldn’t have to explain it to you, Mr. Camberwell, but you’re in a hospital. This is where the sick come to be mended. It’s not a place for barroom brawls.” She gazes over at Jared, who looks unsteady on his feet. Someone has brought him an ice pack and he’s got it pressed to the side of his face. “Hey, Jared. You want to press charges?”
“I’d rather forget the whole thing happened.”
“That’s very generous of you. Somehow I doubt your friend here would extend the same courtesy.” She nudges a crushed flower petal with her toe. “You got somewhere you need to be, Mr. Camberwell?”
He juts his chin out toward Hayley’s door. “I’m here to visit my wife.”
Macy turns to Jared. “I take it you had the same destination in mind?”
“Like I told him. I’m just here to see how she’s doing.”
Lexxie steps forward theat
rically. “Jared saved Hayley’s life.” She beams with pride and rocks back in her thick-soled nursing clogs.
Macy’s eyes flit from Lexxie to Jared and back to Brian again. “Seems you need to adjust your attitude, Mr. Camberwell.” Macy snaps her notebook shut and walks over toward Hayley’s door. She peers in the window for a few seconds before coming over to stand in front of Brian. “It seems you’re lucky Jared came along when he did.”
Jared leans back against the wall, catching what little he can of the conversation above the ringing in his ears. Lexxie is covering for him, telling them she’d stayed at his place and that they’d brought Hayley to the hospital together. He feels too ill to be grateful. He’s also wary. Everyone at the hospital knows she pulled an all-nighter in the ER.
Jared’s voice breaks as he speaks. “I think I’m going to head out now. It’s been a long day and I just want to go home.”
“What’s going on?” Not more than a few feet away Hayley stands on unsteady feet, propping open the door, a portable IV drip-feeding a bandaged arm. Her eyes sweep across the scene, taking in the scattered yellow carnations and Jared before finally landing on her red-faced husband. She steps away and tries to shut the door on all of them.
Brian grabs the top of the door before it closes. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? I’ve been driving straight through for the past twenty-four hours. Sitting for so long my ass is on fire. I want some answers and I want them now.”
Macy clears her throat. Flanked by two uniformed officers, she is no longer alone. “I’m warning you, Mr. Camberwell. I’ve got you in my sights now. Keep this up and I’m hauling you in.”
Brian glances down at his wife’s bound wrists and his voice loses its edge completely. “What makes you think it’s a good idea to call him for something like this? Call your mother, for god sakes. She’d have sent the cavalry.”
In one quick movement Lexxie marches over to Jared and plants a kiss on his cheek. “We couldn’t believe it when we got the call from Hayley yesterday morning. Could we?”
Jared can’t look at Hayley.
Hayley dips her chin and speaks to her husband. “Please, Brian, I’m not feeling so good. Can we talk about this later?”
Brian swallows her up with an embrace. He kisses her on the top of the head repeatedly and rocks her back and forth in his arms.
“I’ve just been so worried about you, baby.” He looks up at Jared. “No hard feelings, man.”
Jared hangs back, trying his hardest to keep his composure. He gives Brian the slightest of nods. Then they’re gone, disappearing into Hayley’s room and closing the door behind them with a soft click.
“You okay?” Lexxie asks, touching the side of his swollen face.
Jared winces and pulls away. “Yeah, I will be.”
She lowers her voice. “I warned you to steer clear of Hayley.”
He gives her the type of smile that could mean most anything. “I’ve never been too good at listening.”
Macy interrupts them, flashing her badge again. “Police business. I need a quick word with Jared.” Macy takes Jared by the elbow and steers him toward a bank of chairs. “Seems like you’ve had better days.”
Jared sinks into a chair and closes his eyes. “Understatement was always your specialty.”
“Among other things.”
“It’s late. What are you still doing here? You must have dropped off Elizabeth ages ago.”
“I needed to check that the security arrangements were adequate. We’re going to have to keep a close eye on Grace for a while.” Macy tries to scoot around so she’s sitting less awkwardly, but her belly keeps getting in the way. “Out of curiosity, does Brian Camberwell work for Cross Border Trucking?”
“On and off for years. He and Grace’s uncle went way back. Why?”
“No reason. I just wanted to confirm he was the same guy.”
“As far as I know there’s only one asshole named Brian Camberwell.”
“So how long have you been sleeping with his wife?”
He doesn’t waste her time with denials. “Too long. We also go way back.”
“The third party in our relationship?”
“Sorry.”
“She’s Pamela Larson’s daughter, isn’t she?”
Jared glances up toward Hayley’s door and frowns. His head is aching but he’s starting to think along straight lines. He’s beginning to wonder if Brian really did leave a message for Pamela.
“Yeah, she’s her daughter, all right.”
“So what’s the scoop on Pamela?”
Jared rubs his temples.
“Jared?”
Jared looks up and sees Macy staring at him. Even though she’s heavily pregnant she’s still attractive. She’s certainly more interesting than Lexxie. “I always fuck everything up.”
“Not everything. Not yet, anyway. Look,” she says, leaning in and lowering her voice. “Collier has this weird small-town vibe, and I’m not from here. I could really use your help.”
“I’m not sure how I do that.”
“It’s quite simple, really. Pamela Larson. Goodie or baddie?”
Jared doesn’t hesitate. “Baddie,” he says, remembering how she’d smiled thinly when she told him Brian wouldn’t be back until the morning. “Definitely the biggest bitch I’ve ever met.”
*
On the drive home Jared catches sight of only a handful of cars. Aside from a few stragglers, Collier is ghost white and emptied out. He stops in at Olsen’s Landing to fill his tank and buy a few basics. Gusts of wind kick debris and snow across the forecourt. His tank is nearly empty and the pump is painfully slow. He huddles next to his truck, keeping out of the freezing northerlies as best he can. From somewhere close by muffled sounds of an argument rise up above the wind. The voices are animated and angry but he can’t make out the words. He twists his head around trying to figure out where it’s coming from. Looking out toward the fishing camp that borders the parking lot, he sees dark blue shadows fall across the six inches of fresh snow. Jared waits for someone to appear, but the shadows recede, taking the raised voices with them. For a long time nothing moves unless it’s being slapped about by the wind.
Behind the counter a spotty teenager gives Jared a sullen look. The television plays music videos at full volume so Jared has to raise his voice to be understood.
“Any news about Sissy’s baby?” he asks.
The word “hospital” is all that’s forthcoming.
Jared asks the boy if he knows if anyone is staying in the summer cabins out at Olsen’s Landing.
The boy shrugs. “Some guy who just moved back here.”
“Why would anyone live out there?”
The boy yawns. “Fuck if I know. Ask Trina.”
Jared points a thumb in the direction of the parking lot. “When I was out front, I thought I heard shouting.”
Bored with the conversation, the boy lets his eyes drift to the television and stay there. “Big deal. Someone’s always shouting in Collier.”
As Jared crosses the Flathead River, a pickup truck pulls in behind him from where it had been parked in a lay-by. Keeping close to Jared’s back bumper, the truck follows Jared all the way home, blocking him in the driveway. Jared’s got a gun stashed in the glove compartment, but he grabs a crowbar out from under his seat instead. Weapon in hand, he jumps out of the cab. Hayley’s father steps out of the other truck, one unsteady foot hitting the packed-down snow at a time. Toby Larson is long in limb and body and as usual he’s smartly dressed. Jared anticipates the scent of whiskey long before he can actually smell it.
Toby gestures to the crowbar. “Are you going to invite me in or bludgeon me to death?”
Jared holds his ground. “You coming here isn’t such a good idea.”
Toby rocks gently as if he’s standing in a boat. “Your sofa is just as hospitable as any in this backward town.” He points at his gold watch. “Plus, I’ve missed the Denver-Phoenix game and I’m hoping
you’ve taped it.”
“Why are you really here?”
Toby clasps his hands in frustrated prayer. “Don’t be so naïve. When it comes to our girls, Pamela tells me everything. I know you and Hayley have had this little dalliance going on for years and I’m well aware that she tried to end her life in your bathroom.”
“That alone seems like a pretty good reason for you not to come into my house.”
As if he’s taking an oath, Toby holds up a hand. “Don’t worry, if I need to relieve myself I shall piss off your back porch like all the other rednecks in Collier.”
Inside the house Jared stands in his darkened entryway, waving his fingers in the air in front of the light switch. The smell is wrong. There is an artificial freshness to it. He flicks on the lights and stares.
Toby puts his chin over the top of Jared’s shoulder and looks out over the room. “What a delightful little place you have.”
Jared keeps glancing around, seeing how so many things have been cleaned, shifted, or completely removed. He’s only been away for fifteen hours.
“Someone has been here.” Jared remembers fragments of the conversation he had with Pamela. He tries to recall what exactly they agreed.
“Well, if you’ve been burgled they’ve done a neat job of it. Perhaps you could give them my number.” His laughter sounds bitter.
Turning down the hallway, Jared switches on lights as he moves through the house. Everything has been dusted, polished, and swept. Outside the bathroom, he hesitates before pushing the door open. Hayley isn’t on the floor anymore, but for a few seconds her pale face is all he sees. There is no blood. All trace of Hayley has vanished. All he can smell is bleach. He reaches for his cell phone. Pamela answers on the third ring.
Jared peeks down the hallway in time to see Toby pass into the living room. He’s carrying a beer. So much for coffee, Jared thinks uneasily.
“Jared,” she says in a low voice. “Everything okay?”
“Did you arrange to have my place cleaned?”
“No, why?”
“Cause someone’s cleaned the whole house.” Jared enters his bedroom. The bed is made. He pulls the quilt away. “They even changed my sheets.”
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