Chapter Five #3
“Sounds like a plan,” Boone boomed out from behind him, surprising him. When Knox looked over at him in surprise, Boone only nodded, looking as solid as a rock and a lot like one of the mountains around here, which had always been the vibe Boone Carey brought to any party he attended.
“If Atticus can’t work his law enforcement magic,” Wilder said from where he was lounging on the couch, “I’m sure we can head down into Marietta and see if Dawson O’Dell himself has any idea who she is. Maybe cast a wider net down there in the actual sheriff’s office.”
There was no dissuading them. Even when Knox tried, both of his older brothers piled into his truck and made it clear that there would be no dislodging them.
And as Knox drove down into Cowboy Point, all he could think was that this was the part that actually mattered.
His brothers like to talk shit. They did it all the time, and would no doubt continue doing it. Truth was, when it wasn’t directed at him, Knox kind of loved it.
Because talking shit was a love language and the other side of that coin was this. His brothers offering their full support, showing him that they believed him with their bodies and their time. Making it clear that a Carey brother only walked alone if he wanted to.
If he hadn’t thought they would mock him mercilessly for the rest of his earthly days, Knox might have shed a little tear at that.
He almost did anyway just to see if Boone would launch himself out of the truck in protest.
Down in town, they found Atticus Wayne in the official Cowboy Point Deputy Sheriff’s Office, a small outpost that was tucked in beside the tiny regional library.
Both served the community and the folks way out in the hills, though Knox figured most people were happier when they saw Sara Jane Stark, the librarian, coming than they were to catch sight of Atticus.
Atticus was around Harlan’s age and had been a fixture in Knox’s life for as long as he could remember.
He looked like what he was: ex-military, current law enforcement, and a Montana man straight through.
Knox had imagined that he would have to go through a whole new round of justifications and explanations as he insisted that he was not the father no matter what it said on Hailey’s birth certificate, but it wasn’t necessary.
Atticus started nodding the moment he said the name Shoshana Delaney.
“I know the Delaneys,” he said in his gruff voice. “There’s a whole pile of them that live out near Devil’s Gorge. Not a happy place. Not a happy family. If Shoshana is who I think she is out of that crew, she’s already had a tough time of it.”
“I don’t want to add to her tough time,” Knox said after a moment, digesting what he knew about Devil’s Gorge, places like it, and what that probably meant for the poor girl who’d been so desperate she’d given up her baby the way she had.
“But I would like to know why she picked my name out of the hat.”
Behind him, Boone made a noise. “Devil’s Gorge isn’t just off the grid. It’s off the hook. Folks go out there sometimes and don’t come back.”
“That is unfortunately a fact,” Atticus agreed.
He leveled a look at Knox. “I don’t blame you for wanting answers.
But I’m not sure you’ll find any. The Delaneys aren’t the friendliest or most welcoming bunch.
I find it’s best to talk to them from the right side of a jail cell and even then, they’re not exactly forthcoming. ”
When Knox only shrugged, because there were presently no Delaneys in the tiny holding cell, Atticus pulled out a map.
Then they all took some time debating how best to get out to a place where the inhabitants didn’t want to be found and the geography was inhospitable enough to feel like collusion.
All without driving off into oblivion in mountains that were particularly unfriendly right now, in these dead days of late December.
“If you must go out there,” Atticus said, “and I can see that you’re going to, watch your backs.”
“A full-time occupation,” Wilder assured him with a grin.
They all went back outside and took a few bracing sort of breaths in the frigid air. Right there by the library where Knox could look across the road and see the sign at the end of Ramona’s drive, beckoning patients into her clinic.
He had to stand there and take a few breaths to clear his head of her, instead of preparing for whatever lay ahead in Devil’s Gorge, a place most locals weren’t foolish enough to go looking for.
Boone and Wilder stood with him, and he didn’t know what they were thinking.
He wasn’t about to ask, either. They all watched as Matilda Stark drove by in her antique red pickup, her usual disheveled braids poking out from beneath a brightly colored knit hat, with what looked like an entire litter of dogs in the back seat.
She saw them all standing there and waved through the window with that big, wide smile of hers that some folks found weird.
Knox had always found her adorable, though he’d been wise enough to keep that opinion to himself. She had far too many large and disreputable cousins, and they all liked to brawl.
The air was so cold that it hurt his face, but it also made him feel alive. Awake. He also felt like it made his brain work at its normal capacity for the first time in a few days.
And he wanted nothing more than to go across the road and tell Ramona where they were going and why.
Then he remembered, with a kind of thud in the center of his chest, what his mother had said about the person he wanted to call first. And for help and…maybe just in general.
You find out who really matters, Belinda had said.
It occurred to him then that maybe playacting having a baby with a woman he didn’t actually have a baby with, but had a whole long and complicated history with instead, had messed him up some.
But Wilder slapped him on the back and he had to let that go. Beside him, Boone nodded, like the starting gun had sounded.
Boone looked at Knox with challenge in his gaze, like this was the best adventure they’d had since they were little kids battling pretend monsters in the barn.
“Guess we’re going off-roading, little brother,” he drawled. “So we better get into those mountains before it gets dark.”