Chapter 15
Get Your Rocks Off Kilter
FIONA
It’s six-twenty when I pull into the driveway behind my dad’s station wagon, and the dark, nondescript sedan that’s been following me for the past few blocks parks at the curb.
A white guy with short light brown hair gets out of the car at the same time I get out of my truck, and my heart rate increases noticeably.
“Can I help you?” I ask when his eyes land on me.
“I’m looking for Thomas Carson,” he says, giving me a once-over.
Shit. “And you are?”
“Special Agent Connor Smith. I’m with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a badge.
I raise my eyebrows. “And you want to talk to my dad because…?”
“Just some routine questions.”
I fight to keep from rolling my eyes as I say, “Well, come on then.”
He trails behind me, and I unlock the door.
Hopefully, my dad’s not in the basement.
There’s nothing in the house, but still.
A sixty-year-old white man, alone in the basement with a soldering iron in a small town in the mountains?
Special Agent Connor Smith will take one look at him and think: Ted Kaczynski.
Fuck.
“Hey dad,” I call out as soon as the door cracks open. “The ATF is here to talk to you.”
The TV pauses, and I breathe a sigh of relief. My dad stands up from the couch as I step into the house, and then his hand is extending toward Connor as I move out of the way.
“Thomas Carson?”
“Just Tom,” my dad says like it’s any other Tuesday and there’s nothing to be concerned about. I wish I felt half as calm.
“Okay,” he replies with a nod. “I’m Special Agent Connor Smith with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives.”
“Let me guess. This visit is about the ‘explosives’ part.”
“Yup. Your name came up on a shortlist of people in town who would have the requisite knowledge to build an explosive device similar to the ones that were used on Bridal Mountain last month and at the Hay Creek site this past weekend.”
“Sure,” my dad agrees. “Me and a couple dozen other guys who worked for White Construction over the years. Can’t do much around here if you can’t clear rock.”
Connor nods. “Because of that, I have a couple of questions.”
“I’m not going to be much help, but go ahead,” my dad says, inclining his head toward a chair as he takes a seat on the couch.
I meander toward the kitchen, as if I don’t have a care in the world, and then I stand there listening.
“Where were you Friday night into Saturday morning?”
“I was at a poker game at my buddy Kenny’s place. It got late, and I ended up crashing on his couch.”
“That would be Kenny Meltzer?” Connor asks.
“Yeah. Me, Kenny, and a few other guys were there most of the night. We try to get together for a card game at the end of every month. Good way to keep in touch,” my dad replies.
There’s a long stretch of silence. “Any ideas about who could’ve been behind the attacks?”
“No, not really. No one in town is happy about what’s been happening, but I also can’t see anyone blowing stuff up over it either.”
“Alright. Thanks for your time.” The floorboards creak, and then there are footsteps followed by the sound of the door opening and closing, and the lock slotting into place.
I wait a minute before stepping out of the kitchen. “Tess’s dad?” I ask.
“He needed an alibi too. Got the whole crew together,” my dad tells me, grinning. “Connor Smith is going to have a helluva time finding a suspect.”
“Fill me in on what’s going on,” Cath says as soon as her seat belt buckle clicks.
“With what?” I ask. Tess, Cath and I are all crammed into the back of Kelly’s SUV. Kelly is driving and Ewan is riding shotgun. Between the five of us and our camping and climbing gear, space is tight, but driving out to the Gorge together is half the fun.
“The bombing at Hay Creek! I was gone for work for two weeks. I only just got back into town last night, and I need to know everything!” Cath demands, her pale blue eyes wide.
“An ATF agent came to talk to my dad about it earlier this week,” Tess says.
“Yeah, mine too,” I supply. “I guess they’re talking to anyone with the right know-how, which means they must not have any idea who did it.”
“Connor?” Ewan probes.
“How do you know his name?” I ask, confused. This is the first time I’ve seen Ewan this week, and I doubt my dad would’ve mentioned Connor’s name even if he’d bothered to tell Ewan about the visit.
“He was at Betty’s when Kyle and I stopped in earlier this week.”
Fucking Tre, I fume, crossing my arms. He didn’t say anything about an ATF agent snooping around. Not that I’ve been in for coffee since he ambushed me with his ‘apology’ after Hay Creek. I’ve been avoiding him like my life depends on it. But still. He could’ve found a way to let me know.
“Did you get his number, Ewan?” Kelly asks with a teasing note in her voice.
“Nah, Kell. You know how those out-of-town guys are,” my twin replies with a smirk. “Always too eager to get back to the city.”
I roll my eyes. “What was he doing at Betty’s?”
“Investigating, I guess.” Ewan shrugs. “According to him, he heard the place was a good spot to overhear the latest gossip.”
Great, I think as the others resume discussing who could be behind the bombings. Just fucking great.
“Come on, Ewan!” I shout. “The next handhold is about two feet above your right hand. One big push.”
We’ve been here since we all spilled out of Kelly’s SUV yesterday afternoon. It’s around six-thirty in the evening, and the sun is at my back, a fact I’m thankful for—otherwise I’d be burning my retinas, staring directly at it as I tried to watch Ewan’s route up the wall.
“You got this, Ewan!” Cath screams from about two feet behind me.
“Jesus Christ, Cath,” I complain without taking my eyes off Ewan. “I don’t think they heard you in the next valley. You want to try it again? You haven’t ruptured my eardrums yet.”
“Shut up, Fi. He needs to move.”
“Yeah. I know,” I tell her. Then, calling up to Ewan, I say, “Switch your left hand to mantle the rock where it juts out and hook your heel on the lip next to your right hand.”
“Sure. Let me just pull my leg behind my head while I’m at it!” Ewan shouts back. “You think I joined the circus while you were gone, sis?” His words immediately make me remember Eddie and his date—and the trailer and Tre.
I’m still pissed Tre didn’t let me know about Connor the ATF agent being in town.
And that he brought up my mom. It’s like he believes he can say, ‘Sorry, my bad,’ and I’ll let it go.
Like it absolves him of being a complete fucking asshole.
The problem with that is that I’m great at holding grudges and terrible at forgiving people.
Ewan forgives people too easily, and I don’t forgive them at all.
We’d both be better off if we could be a bit more like the other in that regard, but neither of us has ever been able to figure that out.
I think Tre actually meant it, though. He did seem like he’d take it back if he could.
But he can’t. And I know I should say, ‘It’s okay.
I forgive you.’ But I can’t. So we’re at an impasse.
Only every time I see him, I flash back to the trailer, and I think about kissing him.
And I hate him and I hate myself for wanting him and for not being able to figure out how to let it go.
Because if he’s half as good in bed as he is at…
Nope. Not doing that.
“See if I try to help, then!” I yell.
I need to get laid. But there aren’t exactly a lot of options here at the moment unless Cath, Tess, or Kelly have switched teams since high school, and I’m pretty sure they haven’t.
We are right next to the river though, and I’ve seen several groups of kayakers and rafters go by.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and a group will stop here for the night.
Then I can find someone to have a one-night stand with, and hopefully that will get Tre out of my head.
I’m sure the only reason I keep reliving that moment with him is because he’s the only person I’ve made out with in months.
Ewan pulls his left hand from the wall long enough to give me the finger, and I laugh.
When he puts it back, his palm is flat against the rock and his fingers are pointed downward to give him leverage to push off.
He ignores my advice about the heel-hook though, and jumps for the next hold.
His fingers brush against it, and for a second it looks like he might have it. Then he’s falling.
I lock the rope down as I hurtle into the air. The force of Ewan’s fall, combined with the extra weight he has on me, pulls me up and toward the wall before the opposing forces equalize and my feet hit the ground again as he dangles above me. He only fell about twenty feet.
“You gonna try again?” I shout up at him.
“No. Let me down. My forearms are shot.”
“You’ve been spending too much time on the water,” I tease when his feet touch the earth.
“Yeah, well, I’d like to see how well you do rafting,” Ewan mutters, glancing toward the river. “You can come talk to me after I have to fish you out of the water.”
“You almost had it, Ewan!” Cath says, her red hair glowing in the sunlight as she claps him on the shoulder. “I bet you’ll get it if you try again tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Cath. Fiona, this is what encouragement looks like, in case you were wondering.”
“Whatever. At least I caught your heavy ass. We all know you’d let me float a quarter of a mile down the river before you pulled me out.
If I were clumsy enough to fall out of the raft, you’d tell me it was my fault.
Hell, you’d probably spout some bullshit about how the universe obviously thought I needed to cool off, or something. ”
Ewan laughs, and I look over to where Tess is belaying Kelly. Kelly’s climbing a 5.14b and making it look easier than I could ever dream of. Even forty feet up in the air, I can see the muscles in her forearms rippling under her dark skin.
I wasn’t really sure I made the right decision moving back to Kalomish, but these granite cliffs next to the river beat the facades of downtown Seattle any day of the week, and especially on a holiday weekend with friends.
Another few minutes go by, and Kelly tops out. “Hell yeah, Kelly! You’re a badass,” I shout as Cath and Ewan cheer her on.
“Ready to lower,” Kelly yells.
“Lowering,” Tess responds at the same volume. More quietly she remarks, “Kelly’s incredible. I can’t even look at something this technical without feeling like I have no chance of making it to the first bolt.”
“You and me both,” I say.
“You could totally send The Old Man’s Beard, Fiona!” Kelly comments as her feet hit the ground, having heard our conversation.
“Please, Kelly. I haven’t done anything that technical in years. There’s no way.”
“It’s not that hard—”
“Says the pro-climber,” Cath quips.
“It’s not! I swear. I think they got the rating wrong,” Kelly says, and I begin laughing. “Seriously, Fi. Try it. Prove me wrong!”
“Ugh,” I grumble. Kelly knows exactly which buttons to push. That’s the problem with being friends with someone since you were eight.
“You were giving me shit for being out of shape. Put your money where your mouth is, sis,” Ewan dares.
“Fine. Who’s belaying?”
“I’ll do it,” Kelly volunteers.
“Alright,” I agree as she unties herself and pulls the rope down. She passes it to me as she sets up, and I tie in. “On belay?” I ask a minute later.
“Belay on.”
“Climbing,” I say, going through the ritual.
“Climb on.”
Kelly spots me as I make my way toward the first bolt. It’s just out of arm’s reach and takes a couple of moves before I can clip into it. As soon as I do, her feet scuff over the ground as she moves back and begins feeding out rope. I make it to the second bolt without too much trouble.
The rock bites into my fingertips as I pause to look for the next move, but everything within reach appears as smooth as glass. “Where the hell do I go from here?”
“Move your left hand up,” Kelly says. “There’s a small seam about two feet above where you are now. Then smear off the wall with your left foot. Use that for leverage as you go for the crack with your right hand. It’s kind of jammy. Then your right toe will go where your right hand is now.”
“Are you kidding? If I fuck that up, I’m going to break a finger!”
“You can do it!” Cath yells encouragingly at the same time Ewan shouts, “Don’t fuck it up, then!”
“I thought you said it wasn’t that technical!”
“It’s not. Just go for it,” Kelly replies.
“Just go for it,” I mimic sarcastically.
Kelly has no idea how good she is. Still, I put my left hand where she said.
The seam she mentioned is more of an idea than an actual feature of the rock face.
I take a deep breath, then surge upward, jamming my first three fingers into the crack, feeling the granite scrape against my skin, and pressing down hard as my right foot finds the spot my hand was crimping. “It worked! It fucking worked!” I cry.
“Told you!” Kelly says above a chorus of shouts from the others.
I reach into the chalk bag at my waist. From here, the next couple of moves should be pretty easy. After that, I guess I’ll do whatever Kelly tells me.
As I reach for the next hold, someone says, “Ewan? What are you doing here?”
My stomach lurches, and I almost miss it. My heart is thundering in my chest as I firm up my position and then glance down. Shit! I was hoping I’d imagined it. But I didn’t.
It’s Tre. Tre’s here.
“What the fuck, Ewan?” I roar. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”
“You gotta make it to the top first, sis,” Ewan yells back, sounding incredibly pleased with himself.