Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
By the time we get to the hospital, they are already prepping Mom for the procedure, so I barely get the details before the team comes for her.
I take Mom’s hand and send her all my positive vibes. “You’ve got this, Ma.”
She smiles. “See you on the other side.”
Thea gives her a kiss on the cheek and a high-five before the nurses wheel her from the room.
“Why didn’t they do this procedure before?” I ask Thea while we walk to the waiting area.
Thea gives me a thoughtful glance. “I don’t know. Too risky?”
That was my thinking too. This balloon procedure—valvulo-something-or-other—apparently will offer the cardiac team information about how ready Mom’s heart might be for something more invasive.
But if they’ve decided to go for it, then it means she’s getting stronger, which doesn’t fit with what I learned last night. I can’t shake the sense that her medical team isn’t telling us everything. Like is this part of her getting strong enough for the new valve, or is it a side-step to buy her more time?
“At least she gets to be awake,” Thea says as we step into the waiting room. Two rows of plastic chairs separated by small tables displaying magazines face a coffee station, vending machine, and a large, leafy houseplant. Bright sunlight from the two giant windows overlooking the parking lot do nothing for the sterile, barren feel of the room.
I skim the two-page printout the nurse handed me that describes what they’re doing step by step. It doesn’t sound that impressive to me. They use a catheter inserted into an artery to access her aortic valve, then use a tiny balloon to puff it open. So what? Her heart will get a quick relief, but the valve isn’t going to magically start performing better. What am I missing?
“Want me to make you a cup of coffee?” I ask Thea.
“Maybe just water,” she says. “I’ll go call Beth.”
While she steps into the hallway, I grab two waters from the vending machine and settle into one of the chairs. I take out my phone and text Ava an update. She replies right away.
Did she seem nervous?
I remember Mom’s bright smile.
More like excited
Oh good. Will she get to come home today?
Tomorrow. If all goes well
How are you holding up?
I blink at my screen as the emotions I’ve kept locked down wriggle free.
I’m scared
Admitting this feels like torture, but holding it in isn’t helping me, either. And Ava might be the safest person to share it with. Why haven’t I done it more?
You have every right to be. Does it help knowing she’s in good hands?
A little
Okay. Keep the faith. Do you need anything?
I fight the urge to ask her to come by.
Not right now
Hang in there
I give her a thumbs up and settle in to wait.
Hours later, after Mom is returned to her room and the cardiac team has assured me that she’s doing great, I’m just heading down to the cafeteria when my phone rings.
I slip it from my pocket and stare at the screen for a moment before answering. “Dad?”
“Ryan. I heard about your mom.”
Thea must have gotten a hold of him somehow. Whenever I try, his phone is set to do not disturb.
“Yeah.”
“Did she respond favorably to the procedure?”
“Uh, it went well, but we won’t know if it helps Mom for a few more days.” Or longer, but I don’t share that. I’m focusing on the positive. Hang in there , Ava said, and I’m trying .
“I noticed you requested a leave of absence.”
As an Air Force Colonel, Dad has access to all kinds of details about my life. I know he tracks my missions and rescues. I used to think it meant he cared, but over time, it’s made me feel more like a pawn he enjoys playing. Or bragging about me to his colleagues.
“Yeah. I needed to be here.”
“Your unit is deploying to the UK soon.”
I rub the back of my neck. “I heard.” Most of my crew are shitty texters, but a few have kept me in the loop.
“Thea and Beth are capable.”
“So am I.”
He releases a measured breath. “Your mother has never prioritized her health.”
I give my dad more slack than he deserves most of the time because I’ve always looked up to him, and a part of me still longs to please him, to make him proud. But he’s testing my capacity right now. “So you’re saying she deserves to suffer?”
“I didn’t call to argue.”
Dad never shares what he’s feeling, so why should I be surprised that he likes shutting me down when I do? “It’s important to me to be here.”
“Even though it could cost you a rotation, or worse?”
“Obviously I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“I hope so too. You’ve worked hard, Ryan.”
This might be the closest he ever gets to all-out praise, and I hate myself for drinking it in. “I gotta go.”
“Give Louisa my best.”
“Yeah.”
We hang up, and I slump against the wall. If Mom is better thanks to this procedure, then I would be justified in returning to my unit. Trading this hospital and the endless farm chores for my life as a PJ brings on a longing so sharp I have to close my eyes to force it back. I’ve been away almost three weeks. Is Dad right, and staying longer is going to jeopardize my career? I have worked hard, but damn it, so has Mom. Maybe she hasn’t taken the best care of herself, but that’s because she’s been taking care of us and the farm she loves.
And what about Ava? So we just hook up while you’re home, and then break it off when you leave? I don’t want to break it off with her, ever.
Fuck!
There’s no way to pull all the strings of my life together.
Very soon, I’m going to have to choose.
When I return to Mom’s room with snacks and sodas, both of my sisters and Dylan are hanging out. Mom’s cheeks have more color and her eyes are bright. Maybe it’s having all her kids in one place, or maybe it’s the positive results we’re all hoping for. With the room so boisterous and Mom in good company, I offer to pick up lunch. I could use the quiet.
Once I’m behind the wheel, I drive past the turn that would lead me into town and keep going, accelerating on the two-lane heading east.
When I pass the old weigh station where we mustered for the search for Marin, a tingle works up my chest. What is bringing me back here, of all places? At Thrasher’s Corner, I turn up the gravel road.
When the pullout littered with broken glass at the base of the giant boulder comes into view, I don’t slow down. I don’t need to see it again. The road curves around the ridge and narrows, the left shoulder dropping off into the steep ravine crowded with boulders. This road used to be the only way into the Finn River Valley from the Montana border. Now it’s mostly used by hikers and sightseers. The tires chew up the gravel as I drive, the view opening to a broad horizon of spires and rocky passes framed by lush meadows.
If Mom is doing better, I can return to Florida in time to get fit tested for duty and make the cut for the UK. Mom’s doctors seem encouraged by how well her procedure went. It means the future valve replacement surgery they ultimately want to do isn’t off the table. But they also didn’t give me a timeline for when it could happen. Thea and Dylan are heading to Penny Creek in a few days as long as Mom continues to improve so they can visit his family before their vacation time ends. If she feels okay leaving, should I?
At the pass, a green metal sign announcing that I’m entering Montana is so full of bullet holes it’s barely legible. I take a moment to savor the stunning vista, but the peace I think I came for eludes me. Maybe it’s the frustrating phone conversation with my dad, or it’s my nonstop thoughts of Ava and what I want but somehow, no matter how hard I try to form a solution, can’t grasp.
When I head back down, a Finn River Sheriff’s Department SUV and a forensic van are parked in the turnout. I pull over and step out. The sharp, alpine breeze bites the exposed skin at my neck and face. I reach back into the cab for my jacket and tug it on.
Zach pokes his head from the top of the boulder. “Thought I heard a car.”
I blow into my chilled hands. “I went for a drive. Sort of ended up here.”
Zach gives me a grim nod. After turning back to say something to whoever’s with him up there, he downclimbs the boulder and brushes off his hands.
I jerk my chin toward the top of the boulder. “Hope I didn’t fuck up your crime scene.”
“Finding Marin was the priority.”
I gaze at the broad valley. “Find something useful?”
“Sofie tells me kids party up here.”
He didn’t answer my question, but there is probably plenty he can’t share. “Yeah. That boulder is sort of prime territory. Seniors only.”
“Troy says he never hung out here, and he didn’t think Marin did, either.”
“Did you ask Linnea?” Sofie’s younger sister is the same age as Beth and Marin, but I don’t know if they ran in the same circles in high school.
“Yeah, but she did Running Start, so she was in a different crowd last year.”
“Do you think Marin’s killer brought her here as part of some plan, or was it random?”
“My gut is that he brought her here on purpose. I mean, he could have left her anywhere. Why come out here? And why leave her truck in plain sight for everyone to see? It’s like he wanted us to find her.”
“That’s fucking creepy.”
Zach huffs a sigh. “Truth.”
From the top of the boulder, an older man with glasses peers over the edge. “Deputy, you should see this.”
Zach eyes me. “You wanna meet for that beer later?”
“Sure.” I also want to find a way to see Ava, but she only said maybe .
“How about the Knotty Pine, say just after five?”
We say goodbye and I climb behind the wheel. After one last glance at the rocky valley that served as Marin’s final resting place, I turn the ignition and pull away.
Once I’m within town limits, I call Ava. It’s almost the end of her lunch hour, so maybe I’ll catch her.
“Hey,” she says. “How’s Louisa?”
“She looks pretty good for someone who recently had a tube in her heart.”
Ava gives a soft chuckle. “That’s great news.”
“Got plans for dinner tonight?”
“Why?”
I shake my head. “Is that how you respond to all the men who want to take you out?”
“You don’t want to take me out.”
The way this woman can irritate me is unreal. “How about I cook you dinner?”
“Really? ”
I soak up the surprise in her tone. Maybe I have a shot after all. “Your place okay? It’s going to be a zoo at mine.”
“Just dinner, though.”
I’m starting to feel pretty good about this idea, so I don’t let this deter me. “How about we start with dinner and see what happens?”
She groans, and I feel like crowing from the roof.
“I take it that’s a yes?”
“We’ll see.”
The Knotty Pine is at the south end of town a few blocks off Main Street. It’s dark inside, with knotted wood paneling on the walls that display trophy shots of handsome rainbow trout, making the place feel like a cozy fishing lodge. Rock music thumps low from overhead speakers, barely audible over the din of laughter and conversations and the crack of billiard balls from the back tables.
Zach is already at the bar, his hair still wet, as if he showered right before heading here. I drop onto the stool next to him just as the bartender brings a beer in an iced pint glass.
He turns to me, and I point at Zach’s beer. “I’ll have one of those.”
With a nod, he spins away.
“Man, I haven’t been here in ages.” At a slow scan of the walls, I’m not surprised to see faces I recognize. My high school English teacher. My old boss from my first-ever job. Ava’s dad is in several, his dark eyes twinkling. I wonder if he ever smiles like that around people, or if he reserves that side of himself for fish.
The bartender delivers my beer. I nod in thanks.
Zach and I tap rims and I take a long swallow. The beer is ice cold and the bitter hops zing across my tongue. “I heard Marin’s service was today.”
“Yeah. Everett and I were there.” Zach drags his thumb down his glass, making a long stripe in the condensation. “You guys were friends in high school, right?”
“Yeah. He’s a super good guy. An amazing dad, too.”
Zach nods. “And a wicked smart interrogator. I’m learning a lot from him.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” I say. “Do you think it’s possible that Marin’s killer attended her funeral?”
Zach sips from his beer. “We’re certainly cross-checking that guest list.”
“I saw Troy today.” I spin my beer on the coaster while filling Zach in on my conversation with the troubled kid.
“I hate that he feels responsible,” Zach says with a grimace when I finish. “Marin was keeping secrets from him and everyone around her. Why?”
“Maybe the creep told her she had to.”
“Like he was manipulative.” Zach shakes his head. “I lost a friend when I was their age. A predator lured her into a trap, and she paid for it with her life.”
“That sounds awful. I’m sorry.”
“I wish there was some way to better protect our most vulnerable. Kids like Marin, and my friend Terrilynn, and…looks like maybe the person you found yesterday.”
I give him a tense glance. “You got an ID?”
He uses his peripheral vision to check either side of us, like he’s afraid someone’s listening in.
“Let’s go out back,” he says.
We migrate past the two rowdy games of pool and push through the back door.
Outside, the evening air feels thick and still, like the dusk is a weighted blanket. Beyond the empty wood patio, a rectangular sandpit set up for horseshoes I remember is carved into the thick grass.
I step off the porch and pick up the two blue horseshoes. “Added challenge. You can’t set down your beer. ”
“I like it,” Zach says with a grin.
I toss my first shoe but I’m rusty, and it taps the stake and bounces out of points range. My second toss lands just short but good enough for one point.
Zach takes his turn, not landing either shoe anywhere near the stake.
“Ouch,” I say.
“Maybe my aim will get better by the time I finish this,” he says, and takes a sip of his beer.
I line up my next throw but it goes wide. My second rings the stake for three points.
Zach walks to his side of the sand pit. “We were able to get a forensic team down into that mine shaft. The bones belong to a female, likely in her early twenties.”
I sip my beer, letting this information settle inside me. “Any idea how long they’ve been down there?”
“Five to seven years,” Zach replies. He tosses his horseshoes—a one-pointer and a leaner, worth two. As we walk to my side, Zach glances at me, his face tense. “We’re doing some cross-referencing with missing persons reports from that time, but there’s something kind of alarming.”
My skin at the back of my neck pulls tight.
“It’s the same cause of death as Marin.”
The wound hidden in Marin’s hair flashes into my thoughts. I pick up my horseshoes, but I forget what I’m supposed to do with them. “How much the same?”
He grips his waist with his free hand and gazes up at the sky. “Enough that we’re looking into it.”
This is likely more than he should tell me, so I silence my next question. But if he’s saying the two deaths could be related, then… “Damn.”
“Yeah.”
I lean back against the railing. “When I was down there, I couldn’t shake this heaviness, like those bones had a story to tell, and it wasn’t a happy one.”
“Based on how she died, I’d say that’s probably true.”
“Are any of your suspects in Marin’s murder connected to whoever died in that mine?”
“Troy would have been in middle school. Same with the camp counselor ex-boyfriend. Not completely impossible, but just thinking out loud, they wouldn’t be my first choice.”
Elk Flats and Finn River are only forty-five minutes apart, but within the same county, so maybe the distance isn’t significant.
I drain my beer. “Any luck tracing the online creep? Or finding Marin’s phone?”
“No. But we’re getting some help.”
“From?” I pick up my horseshoes but my first toss hits the backboard and tumbles into the grass.
“A close family friend of mine is a federal agent. He put me in touch with someone in Behavioral Sciences. Special Agent Luke Ballard.”
“Seriously?”
Zach’s eyes widen in surprise. “Know him?”
“Hell yeah, I know him.”
“He was special ops?”
“Yep. Until he got injured.” I knew he’d gone to work for the feds, but not that he was working cases as a behavioral scientist. Because of his history with PTSD, he would never be able to work as a cop, but with his psych degree and his passion for justice, profiling is a perfect fit for him.
“We’re talking tomorrow.”
“Wow.” I toss my horseshoe but it lobs into the darkness. Luke was my first friend in PJ training, thanks to both of us coming from small towns, though Pickett Falls is dominated by lakes instead of mountains like Finn River. Luke could make anyone laugh, even in the scariest, most intense moments, is the best athlete I’ve ever known, with more grit and determination than a pack of hungry wolves. I would have never believed he’d be the guy who got hit with PTSD.
“If he takes the case, would he visit?” I ask. It’s been several years—shit, five?—since we’ve talked.
“Never had a case like this, so I’m not sure.”
Seeing my old friend in connection to this investigation would be kind of a mind-bender, but also fucking awesome.
“Did you find anything useful today on top of that boulder?” I ask as Zach lines up his shot.
“We’ll see. DNA takes weeks to process.” Zach tosses his shoe but it lands short.
“Luke might be able to speed things up.”
“We could certainly use those resources.” His face tightens in a grimace. “I can’t shake the fear that we’re running out of time.”
Fear crawls up my spine as Zach makes his final toss. Because running out of time can mean only one thing: He believes Marin’s murderer is preparing to strike again.