Jared puts his arm out behind him, holding Macy back. “Did you hear that? Was that the front door?”
Macy tries to move past him. “It’s probably Warren.”
“Wait here,” he says, grabbing her by the arm.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Just wait.”
Jared eases the front door open and steps out into the night. It’s much quieter than it was earlier. They’re searching cabins farther up the lane. “I don’t see anyone.”
Macy follows him out and switches on her flashlight. “When you stayed here as a child did you play hide-and-seek?”
“Of course. My brother and I were legendary. No one could ever find us.”
“Where did you hide?”
“The boat house was always a good place. We’d climb up into the rafters and stay there for hours.”
Macy points her flashlight toward the river. “After you.”
“No way. We need to get out of here. There are too many guys with guns wandering around Olsen’s Landing. It’s not safe.”
Macy lets him push her toward her car. “I’m trying to remember if you’ve always been this bossy.”
The helicopter thunders overhead, sweeping its searchlight through the woods to the west of them. Seconds later a figure breaks through the trees about fifty feet farther down the lane and staggers toward the river.
“Oh shit,” says Macy. “That’s Dustin.”
“I’ll watch him.”
Macy tries to grab hold of Jared’s arm as he moves away from her. “Stay right where you are.”
“It’s all right. I’ll hang back. Just call for help.”
It’s so dark under the trees that it’s almost impossible to see where they’re going. Jared can hear his heart beating inside his chest and the pounding of his feet sets off a low throbbing vibration in his ears. The road takes a hard right and ends at a parking lot. Out in the open the unblemished snow glows in the moonlight. Below them the bank drops sharply to the Flathead River. From above it looks as if the surface is frozen solid all the way across to the opposite shore.
Dustin stands at the top of the boat ramp clutching his side. The incline is steep and icy. He takes a tentative step and Jared reaches out to stop him. They both misjudge the surface. Their feet slip out from beneath them and together they tumble down the slope, building speed the closer they get to its base.
On his back, Jared spins flat like a starfish across the frozen river, coming to rest about twenty feet from the shoreline. He gets up on all fours. His head aches from where it struck hard against the ice. He looks around. Dustin is on his feet and walking unsteadily toward the opposite shore. Jared stands slowly but the ice shifts with the movements of the river. It’s like walking on water. Even in the pale light he can see icy pools bubbling up everywhere.
He tracks Dustin’s silhouette then all of a sudden it’s gone. Jared cries out at the space where Dustin was standing before he fell through the ice. For a few seconds Jared stands perfectly still, fearful he’ll do the same. Slowly he drops onto his belly and spreads his weight out evenly. Ahead of him Dustin’s dark head bobs in and out of the water. He’s clutching at the edge of the ice floe with his bare hands. The surface breaks off in chunks every time he tries to pull himself out.
Jared slides toward him on his stomach. The ice thins further and the river water rises upward and seeps into his clothing, adding to his weight. He blinks his eyes in the gray light and yells at Dustin to hold on. The shadow of Dustin’s hand waves up out of the black water but when Jared grabs at it more ice gives way. Jared scrambles backward on all fours and a crack follows him, ripping the surface like a split seam. Dark water bleeds over the sides of a cut that grows in inches and then in feet. Jared looks up and sees Dustin gripping on to its edge, his wet hair plastered to his head. In the moonlight his features are as grainy as an old photograph but his pale eyes glow like white neon. Dustin tries to pull himself up onto the ice again but there’s no strength left in his arms. He takes one last look at Jared and is swept away.
Jared puts his head to the side and gathers his strength. Farther off shore the black water swells and ice floes splinter and separate. He slides on his belly, backing away as quickly as he dares. The river pushes hard and he rocks up and down with the current. Behind him he can hear people shouting his name. Macy screams at someone to get a line out to him.
Jared twists his body around so he can see where he’s going. Headlights from vehicles parked above the boat ramp reflect off the ice and he’s blind for a few seconds. He puts his head down and scrambles forward to where a length of rope has been thrown. There’s a loop tied into it but his hands are so numb he can’t hold on. He struggles to put it over his neck and shoulders. His teeth chatter uncontrollably and he can’t stop shaking. He clenches his jaw and paws at the knot with his hands, trying hard to heave himself toward the thicker ice. From the shore someone gives the signal to pull and he’s dragged straight into a fracture in the surface.
The ice breaks beneath him just as the rope goes slack. Jared sinks fast in his heavy coat and clothes. He can’t breathe. He struggles to swim to the surface as the current drags him downstream toward the rapids south of town.
The rope digs hard into his shoulder blades and ribs as it’s pulled taut. Ahead of him he can see the surface lightening as he’s drawn closer. He struggles to put his arms up and catch hold of the edge. Hands reach for him and he’s pulled out of the water. He lands in a heap in someone’s arms and gasps for breath.
26
Lexxie has been in Jared’s house again. His dogs are in their pen. They’ve been fed. Their water bowls are full. From inside the garage he looks out at his driveway. He’s tired but he’s not missed anything. There are no other cars. It’s after midnight and he’s finally home. They’d wanted to keep him in the hospital overnight, but he had other ideas. He took the borrowed clothes, got dressed, and drove off in the ambulance he came in.
Jared sends his dogs into the house ahead of him. They pad about calmly. Nobody else is there but he can tell Lexxie has been everywhere. The place is once again wiped clean. In the dining room the table is set for two—two chairs, two plates, two wineglasses, and two candles that are burned down to the nub. There’s roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. There’s a bottle of wine and a bottle of water.
There’s a note.
Jared sits down in a chair and reads. The meal in front of him represented his last chance to make things right. Lexxie is leaving him and Collier for good. She does not wish him well.
Jared scoops up some mashed potatoes and green beans and pulls the platter holding the chicken toward him. He opens the wine and pours a large glass. He eats it all, shoveling the food into his mouth and not tasting a thing.
Outside of Lexxie’s house, there’s a box of Jared’s stuff sitting on the front step next to the morning paper, but she isn’t answering the door. He looks through the side window of her garage and sees her car is there. He rings the bell again and waits. He’s walking away when the door opens.
Her voice cracks when she speaks. “What have you got to say for yourself?”
Lexxie wears a flannel robe and her hair is pulled back into a loose knot. She looks as if she has a cold but Jared knows she’s been crying.
“I’m sorry. I should have listened to your messages. I should have talked to you.” He gestures to the ambulance he drove up in. “It’s been a bad week.”
Lexxie looks up at the sky. There’ve been news helicopters circling over Collier all night. “I’m moving to Helena. I’ve got a job offer at the hospital there. I was hoping you’d come with me. It would do you good to get out of Collier.”
Jared finds it hard to disagree with her logic. “I’m kind of stuck here for the time being.”
“You’ve always been stuck. I know that now. You’ve not changed one bit since the day I met you. You’re still waiting around for your life to start.”
Jared tr
ies to defend himself but comes up short.
“What are you going to do, Jared? Trail around living off the scraps from Hayley’s life? She’s not going to leave Brian.” She starts to shut the door on him but stops and turns to say one last thing. “Sometimes I feel like someone should just put you out of your misery.”
*
At the sheriff’s office, Jared and Macy sit opposite each other with coffee bought from the vending machine.
Macy yawns into her fist. “You okay?”
“Just sore all over.” Jared closes his eyes. “I feel bad for Grace. People round here will never understand.”
Macy reaches over and looks through the blinds, pinching them open with her fingertips. All the desks are full. The Collier sheriff’s department will be doing paperwork forever. “I found one of her sketchbooks when we searched Dustin’s cabin.”
“Is that what you put in your bag?”
Macy blows out air like she’s been holding it in for a while. “Dustin told Grace he’d never been in her bedroom. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really.”
“What will you do with it?”
Macy leans back in her chair. “I’ll log it as evidence.”
“It could disappear. Nobody knows you have it.”
“Compared to the missing photos, I’d say the sketchbook is the least of Grace’s worries.”
Jared’s phone rings and he looks at the caller ID. It’s Hayley. Instead of answering, he glances up at Macy. “The evidence from the other abuse cases. It’s a definite match? Dustin murdered Molly Parks?”
“Yes, we have a match on fingerprints and one of the girls identified him from his DMV photo. We’re still waiting for DNA. Not that it matters much anymore. Dustin’s dead.”
Jared almost reaches for his phone. All he can think of is returning Hayley’s call.
Macy thumps her pen on the table like a tiny seesaw. “We’re arresting Brian Camberwell.”
His eyes snap up. “Are you serious?”
“Remember that number Grace wrote down in the column of that newspaper article? We couldn’t find a match because it was an old registration number for one of Arnold Lamm’s trailers. We found it in his files. Brian was the registered driver of the truck that transported the girls that died. Grace will have to testify, but if all goes according to plan, he’s looking at life in a federal prison.”
“Why didn’t you say something before?”
“I didn’t know until a few minutes ago.”
“I saw Brian’s truck out at Olsen’s Landing early yesterday evening. I was supposed to meet Hayley there and I thought Brian had come looking for us, but he must have been there to see Dustin.” He looks at his phone again. Hayley has left a message on his voicemail. Macy leans in when he plays it for her. Even from her side of the desk, she can hear Hayley pleading for her life. Hayley shouts her husband’s name more than once.
Along with half the officers in the station, they take to the roads of Collier. Feeling useless, Jared sits in front with Macy. Her big baby bump is squeezed up into the steering wheel and her jaw is clenched tight. Sirens screaming and a string of squad cars on her trail, she edges through a narrow gap to cross Main Street before taking a hard right and heading straight into oncoming traffic. Macy doesn’t blink. The approaching vehicles drive onto sidewalks and into center divides, parting from the road like teeth on a zipper.
Jared gestures toward Hayley’s street and yells, “Take a left here.”
He jumps out of the door before the car is fully stopped. Stumbling through the deep snow, he checks the driveway for Brian’s truck before running through the open front door. He’s unprepared for the brightness of the well-lit entrance. Every surface is cleanly polished to the point it shines. Little things catch his eye. Family photos, an overturned chair, a discarded shoe. The house is too quiet. He can’t imagine how someone could draw breath within its walls. Standing as still as a river stone, Jared feels the cold rush of police officers flow around him.
An officer who goes by the name of Henry takes hold of him. “You stay put for now.”
From outside comes the sound of more sirens. There’s an army encamped on Hayley’s street. In his head Jared pieces together what he’s seeing: a child’s backpack and a small suitcase with half its contents spilling onto the floor, a blue-eyed doll, a coloring book, a pink sweatshirt. He tries to think. It’s a weekday. The girls should still be in school.
Macy’s small voice is shriller than the sirens out front. “Jared,” she calls from the back of the house. “Get back here.”
Jared finds Macy in the master bedroom, shouting down the phone. “Please tell me that someone called an ambulance?”
Beyond the unmade bed, an officer is on his knees. Jared catches sight of Hayley’s bare leg. The positioning is odd. He moves forward and the officer makes room. Jared places his fingertips to Hayley’s neck. There’s a pulse and it’s strong. He shouts her name and shakes her as hard as he dares, resting his forehead in the crook of her neck when he gets a response.
Her tears mix with the blood and snot dripping from her broken nose and lips. She tries to sit up and he pushes her back down. “I tried to stop him.” Her eyes dart around the room. “He’s taken them.”
He probes her ribs with his fingertips. “The girls are fine.”
Hayley grimaces and coughs, turning her head to the side. “Don’t lie to me.” She leans her head back, exposing her bruised throat.
Voices and footsteps fill the room. Carson and another paramedic named Paul shove the bed out of the way.
Carson’s voice is calm. “What have we got here?”
Jared goes through a list, his voice breaking off when he sees the phone he’d given Hayley lying on the carpet next to the nightstand. He can’t help but think that he’s failed her one too many times.
Carson rips a dressing from its packaging. “We got this,” he says, glancing over at Paul for confirmation. “Hayley is going to be fine.”
Jared kisses Hayley on the forehead. “I’m going to go see about your girls.” When he gets to the living room, he has to wait for Macy to finish her phone call with the girls’ elementary school.
“Can you give us an exact time?” She writes down a few details on a piece of paper. She calls a colleague over. “Brian Camberwell picked up the girls twenty minutes ago. I need an APB put out on his truck.”
The officer looks confused. “We already did that.”
“Do it again.” She looks up at Jared. “How’s Hayley?”
Jared keeps it clinical. It’s the only way he can respond without breaking down. “She’s got several facial injuries. Fractures to her nose and swelling around her right eye. She’s got a few cracked ribs and her right leg is broken but until we have X-rays we can’t be sure how bad it is.” Jared’s voice trails off. There’s a bootprint on Hayley’s thigh. He can’t get the size of it out of his head.
Macy takes Jared’s arm and steers him deeper into the room. “We need recent photos of her daughters.”
Standing in front of a bookcase they both reach for the same photo.
Macy speaks first. “Why do they have pictures of Grace Adams in their house?”
“That’s not Grace,” he says, feeling ill at ease when he remembers what Hayley told him about Dustin helping her with the girls. “That’s Hayley’s eldest daughter, Isobel.”
“Why didn’t you tell me they look so much alike?”
“I haven’t seen Isobel in nearly a year. I had no idea there was a connection.”
Macy picks up her phone. “Warren, I need you to speak to Pamela. I want you to tell her what’s happened. If this doesn’t get her talking I don’t know what will.”
27
Grace slides open the window and throws her bag into the small backyard before climbing out after it. She sinks up to her waist in the snow that has drifted there. Next door a dog barks in short little bursts. Gra
ce pulls her hat down and runs across the back alley to the garages. Her truck is parked in the one closest to the end. She swings open the door and it bangs against the wall. In her mind it sounds like a sonic boom.
She backs her truck out and sits for a couple of seconds in the alleyway. Ahead of her the road curves to the right toward the front entrance to the complex. She has no idea whether the patrol officer out front will recognize her uncle’s pickup truck. She takes a deep breath and drives. As she turns onto the street, she checks her rearview mirror one last time. The patrol car hasn’t moved.
Grace heads south on a road that runs parallel to Main Street. She wants to hurry but she keeps her speed down. Two blocks on there’s several patrol cars parked halfway down the block to the left. Grace pulls to the side just as an ambulance screams past. She catches sight of the driver but it isn’t anyone she knows.
Just before a bridge that crosses the Flathead River, Grace turns right onto a frontage road and enters the industrial part of town. The gate to the old Harris Mill has been forced open. Grace pulls up close to it and gets out. Other than the wind it is quiet, and the air is so cold it burns her throat. Beyond the gate a single set of tire tracks runs through the snow in a straight line toward the distant buildings. Grace clutches the chain-link fence with her gloves. She doesn’t see anyone. She looks over her shoulder, back toward the main part of town. A helicopter circles the area near Olsen’s Landing.
Grace follows the tracks until she is out of sight of the main road. The old lumber mill stands three stories high and is nearly the size of a football field. She opens her bag and gets out the bundle of money she found in the trailer and holds it in her hands as she stares out the front window. She can’t bring it with her. It’s the one thing he wants. Once he has it he’ll probably kill her. She grabs a flashlight from the glove compartment before stepping out into the cold. The main mill doors are secured with a chain but there’s a big enough gap for her to squeeze through. The beam of her flashlight sweeps across the empty building. Most of the heavy machinery has either been sold or salvaged as scrap metal. The rest is draped with cobwebs so thick they look like cotton candy. There’s a set of stairs leading up to a mezzanine. She kicks at the treads until she discovers a loose one about halfway up. There’s a dark recess underneath. She reaches inside of the bag, pushing her uncle’s gun out of the way to get at the bundle. She puts the money inside and kicks the tread back in place.
Bone Dust White Page 26
