Chapter 29
Truth and Consequences Be Damned
FIONA
Like every Sunday during brunch, Betty’s is busy. I had to wait a few minutes to get a table near the back, where I’d be able to watch Tre while he’s working at the grill.
He’s currently gulping down water, staring at me. His throat is moving with each swallow, bringing back memories of last night, and it’s making me more hot and bothered than I’d care to admit.
I can’t help but remember Tre saying, ‘Change your mind.’ I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to sit across from Tre and eat breakfast with him, instead of watching him from across a crowded diner.
I can’t help but wonder if he’s right. Maybe I should change my mind.
Maybe it is that simple, I think as I raise a sausage link to my mouth and take a bite. It’s perfect. Crispy and juicy, and—
“Richard White,” someone barks over the jingle of the bell above the diner’s front entrance, pulling my eyes away from Tre.
Shit. There are five brown uniforms standing in the doorway.
The sheriff and four deputies I don’t know but have seen at various town halls.
My stomach plummets, and I force a blank, disinterested look onto my face as two deputies push their way through the diner toward Tre, who just looks confused.
“What is this? What’s going on?” Tre asks.
“Richard White, you are under arrest,” the sheriff says from his position near the door as a deputy grabs Tre and throws him face down on the counter. Then the other one is forcing Tre’s arms behind his back and locking a pair of handcuffs around his wrists.
The fact that I wished for this very thing to happen a few months ago isn’t lost on me. Only now I want to jump between Tre and the deputies and demand they let him go.
They’re reading Tre his Miranda rights as they push him toward the door. His head turns, and his eyes briefly find mine. They’re full of panic, and I can feel my breakfast threatening to reappear.
They’re almost to the door when Tre turns and shouts, “Sandy! Close the place up!”
I throw twenty dollars onto the table as I stand and unobtrusively head for the front.
There’s a small crowd formed at the diner’s entrance, watching the scene unfold, and I push my way through them in time to hear the sheriff say, “We have footage of you riding out to Highland Estates two days before the firebombing. I got you.”
Fuck. What am I going to… How am I going to… My thoughts spiral as I stand in the middle of the crowd and watch them force Tre into the back of the cop car.
Then the door slams shut, and Tre’s eyes find mine again.
He looks as sick as I feel, but he gives me a small nod as the car’s engine rumbles to life, and it pulls away from the curb.
His eyes stay locked on mine until the angle makes it impossible to see him, and my own words from last night are left echoing in my head: ‘I would’ve gotten you out if I needed to. ’
Did I mean it? I wonder. Did I really mean it?
My dad is on the couch with Batman in his lap, watching yet another documentary when I walk in.
For all the complaining he did about how I shouldn’t have brought ‘that cat’ home with me, they look pretty cozy.
I glance at the TV in time to see black and white footage of helicopters with guys wearing bucket hats and carrying guns moving across the screen, followed by the narrator saying, “Ho Chi Minh.” The Vietnam War, then.
I pick up the remote and shut the TV off. My dad is already glaring at me when I flop onto the couch next to him. “The sheriff just arrested Tre.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Fiona,” he growls, his eyes falling closed. “I told you this was going to happen.” His eyes open. “You need to find a lawyer.”
“He’s not going to rat me out, dad.”
“He damn well will. As soon as he sees a chance of getting off easy, he will sell you out. None of the Whites has a loyal bone in their bodies.”
“He’s nothing like Rich, dad. He won’t do that.”
“Fiona—”
“No, dad. He won’t. Plus, I’m going to get him out. It won’t even be an issue.”
“How? You don’t even know what they have on him!” my dad refutes.
“Footage of Tre near Highland Estates a couple of days before the houses went up in flames. Probably from a trail cam or something. I heard the sheriff tell him that as they were putting him into the cop car.”
“You heard—”
“Yes, I was at Betty’s when it happened.”
“Is that where you were last night?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. I was with Tre last night.”
“Goddamnit, Fiona!”
“You don’t get a say in who I’m involved with!”
“So you’re involved with him now?” my dad snaps.
“Yes. I’m fucking involved with him! And I want to stay involved with him, so I could really use your help!” I shout back. “Especially since I doubt Rich is going to shell out for a lawyer this time.”
“Pfft,” he scoffs as he stands, dumping Batman into my lap before pacing across the living room. “I can’t believe you’re interested in Tre.”
“Jesus Christ, dad. Grow up!” He turns to face me, his blue eyes boring into me as I continue, “Tre is Ewan’s best fucking friend.
He’s been nothing but reliable since we started working together.
He’s a good person. I get that you don’t like Rich.
I don’t like Rich either. Tre doesn’t even like Rich.
But Tre isn’t his dad, and I need your help. ”
“For what? How exactly do you think you’re going to get him out?”
“It was only the sheriff’s department that was involved in the arrest. The ATF wasn’t there, so either they didn’t know what the sheriff had planned, or they don’t think there’s enough evidence for a conviction.
Either way, I imagine detonating some bombs that are identical to the ones I’ve already used will go a long way toward getting Tre out.
And I can build another one like the one I used at Highland Estates, but I need you to build me one like the ones I used at Bridal Mountain and Hay Creek. ”
“To blow up what?” my dad asks skeptically.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Well, I can’t build you a bomb if I don’t know what it’s going to be used on!”
“But when I figure it out, will you do it?”
He sighs. “Yes. But only so Tre won’t cut a deal and turn you in.”
I roll my eyes but say nothing.
“You should give the cat back.”
“Yeah. I know. I’ve already got a plan for that.” I glance down at the black void of fluff who’s curled in my lap, purring. “Thanks, dad.”
It’s just after six, and I’m sitting alone at the bar in Malcolm’s with a bottle of cider I’ve been nursing for well over an hour, zooming in and out of aerial satellite maps around the development sites, trying to determine what I can target when Ewan sits down next to me at the bar.
“Hey sis,” he greets with an edge to his voice that’s not normally there.
I hit the button on my phone, locking it before setting it face down on the bar. “Hi Ewan,” I reply, watching Malcolm walk toward us.
“Hey Ewan, what can I get you?” Malcolm asks.
“Hey Mal, I’ll have whatever Fiona’s drinking.”
Malcolm nods, then moves away to grab a bottle for Ewan. An uneasy silence settles between us, and I make a show of paying attention to Malcolm’s movements behind the bar. All too soon, he’s setting a bottle in front of Ewan.
“Put it on Fiona’s tab,” Ewan says. Mal glances at me, and I nod. “Let’s grab a booth, Fiona.”
I groan but stand to follow my twin. The bar is mostly empty, but Ewan chooses a booth in the back corner—the one farthest from everyone else—and my stomach sinks.
“So,” Ewan says when I sit down across from him.
“So?”
“Guess what I heard when I got back from the trip I was guiding today.”
“I don’t know, Ewan. What?”
“I heard they arrested someone for firebombing the houses out at Highland Estates. I heard that someone was Tre.”
“Okay, and?”
“And that got me thinking about you guys. You were there when he was arrested this morning, weren’t you?”
I shrug noncommittally, wanting to avoid the question.
“Of course you were. Because you’ve been there every weekend for the past month. So I want to know why Tre’s sitting in a jail cell for some bombs I’m pretty sure you built.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say flatly.
“Bullshit, sis. The timing of it all has been bugging me for months. All of a sudden, right around the same time Bridal Mountain was sabotaged, you stopped shit-talking Tre. Stopped calling him Dickie, even. And right around that same time, he became interested in you. Then, come to find out that somehow—I wasn’t sure how, but I’ve got a pretty good guess now—the two of you’d been spending enough time together to develop feelings for each other, even before our Fourth of July trip.
Strong enough feelings for you to bail on Kyle because you couldn’t stop thinking about Tre, which isn’t the sort of thing that happens overnight or because you saw each other a few times while you were getting coffee like he tried to tell me. ”
“What’s your point?”
“Tre doesn’t know how to build a bomb, Fi. But I could muddle my way through it, which means you could too. Tell me what’s going on.”
“You know Rich knows all about explosives. Who’s to say Tre didn’t pick up a few things from his dad the same way we did?”
“Enough, Fiona. My best friend is sitting in a jail cell right now, and I know you have something to do with it, so tell me what the hell is going on and maybe we can fucking figure out how to fix it,” Ewan demands.
I let out a long sigh. I never wanted Ewan to be involved in this.
I never even really wanted Tre to be involved in it.
Tre involved himself though, and now it seems like my twin is going to do the same thing.
Part of me wants to keep lying to him, but he’s obviously figured out the gist of what’s happening, and I need the help.
I can’t go around asking the kind of questions I need answers to without arousing suspicion.
Ewan isn’t everyone’s best friend the way Tre is, but he always knows way more about what’s going on around town than I do, and I need information.
Plus, every idea I’ve been able to come up with would work a lot better with two people than with one.
“Fine,” I say. “Tre and I sort of… ran into each other that night at Bridal Mountain, and we’ve been working together since then.” I explain about Hay Creek, and then Highland Estates.
“So that cat you wanted me to watch…?”
“Yeah.”
“Sis,” Ewan scolds, shaking his head.
“I know, Ewan. What do you think I’ve been sitting here doing for the past couple of hours? I’m not just going to let him sit in jail.” Turns out I did mean it when I told Tre I’d have gotten him out if I needed to.
“What’s the plan, then?”
“Can you find out where the Henley and Montank executives are staying?” I ask. “Without making it obvious that’s what you’re doing?”
“Probably.”
“Okay, good. Do that. And you know that idea you mentioned to me after the town hall when I asked you who you thought was responsible for Hay Creek? About Henley and Montank being involved?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You think you could spread that rumor around a bit?”
Ewan grins. “Yeah. I can do that. What are you going to be doing in the meantime?”
“I’m going to start by arranging the return of the cat. Then, once we know where the Henley and Montank executives are staying, we’ll make it clear that Tre wasn’t involved, which will hopefully be enough for Rich to send his lawyers to get Tre out.”
It’s five in the morning, and I’m sitting in my truck with a cat carrier on the seat beside me.
Most of the houses on the street are dark, and the ones that aren’t still have their blinds pulled shut.
Sunrise is a bit more than an hour away.
I take a breath, raise the hood of the sweatshirt I’m wearing over the baseball cap on my head, and grab the cat carrier before getting out and shutting the door quietly behind me.
I’m already wearing gloves, so I don’t have to worry about leaving fingerprints on the carrier.
My destination is five blocks away, but I didn’t want to park any closer on the off chance Carol’s neighbors have doorbell cameras. Almost no one in Kalomish does—that’s a ‘big city’ thing—but there’s no reason to chance it.
The air is cool, and there’s a light fog hanging over the streets. We’re still in summer’s grasp, but fall is waiting in the wings.
Batman is quiet inside the carrier as we walk. I’m sure he enjoyed his little adventure, but I imagine he’ll be happy to be back with his person.
Carol’s house is a small white bungalow. The lights are all off. She doesn’t need to be at the office for another two and a half hours. There’s no reason for her to be up this early.
I set the carrier down on her front doorstep before removing the note from my pocket and wedging it under the handle.
“Bye Batman.” I reach a finger through the metal grate to scratch his cheek. He begins purring almost immediately, and I totally understand why the Henley and Montank guy brought him along on a work trip. If he were my cat, I’d have brought him too.
I stand up and press the doorbell four times in quick succession, and then take off down the street in the opposite direction I came from, opting to take the long way back to my truck.
Carol will see the letter and immediately call the police to let them know that the cat isn’t dead, and that Tre had nothing to do with it. She’ll give them the letter, which says they’ve got the wrong guy. Then she’ll tell everyone she runs into all about it for at least the next week.
That won’t be enough to convince the sheriff or Rich, I’m sure. But what Ewan and I do next should create enough confusion to get Rich back on Tre’s side, at least.