CHAPTER NINE #2
That was a lie, or close enough to one. The tiredness in his eyes gave him away.
So did the way one foot tapped a little when he sat too still, as if some part of his body couldn’t settle.
Selena had seen enough hospital rooms to know the look of someone pretending improvement for the sake of the people around them.
“Why the hell didn’t Diane call me?!” Selena felt her nerves on edge, not for the first time today.
He waved her down and patted her knee. “My girl, don’t be so hard on your sister. You’ve got your life, and I know we fought about it before, but I didn’t want to be a burden like last time. We dealt with it here. And it’s all good.”
The sight of him like this hurt more than she had prepared for. In childhood memory, he had always been broad and tireless, full of dry humor and slow patience, a man who could mend a fence all morning and still come in at lunch with enough energy left to play hide and seek with his daughters.
Now the bones in his wrists showed. It reminded her too much of when he’d had cancer. The guilt of staying away pushed through her mind like volcanic flow. But she had to push it away; push it away or the pain would tear her apart.
“If you’re not here for me,” he said, not accusing, only asking, “why are you here, Lena?”
“A case.”
“Oh.” His voice changed only a little, but she heard it.
“It is good to see you, Dad,” Selena said quickly.
Robert nodded once. “You too, Lena.”
“I would have called to let you know I was coming, but this case all happened too quickly.” A lie. But one she was telling as much to herself as to him. The case had come quickly, but there was always time to call.
Robert didn’t ask for details. Didn’t ask what kind of case, whether it was dangerous, whether Connor was involved, whether the county was giving her trouble already. He just accepted the answer and let it sit between them.
That made it harder.
Crickets started up in the grass. Headlights moved past at the far end of the street, throwing brief white bars across the overgrown swing. Neither of them spoke for a while. The porch boards clicked faintly as the night air cooled them.
Finally, Selena said, “It’s getting dark.”
“Where you staying?”
“The Wilson Motel.”
Robert made a quiet sound in his throat. “Eric Wilson’s place? That punk. You know you still have your old room here.”
She glanced at him. “I don’t think Eric is the kid you remember, Dad. Besides, Diane would just love me staying here.”
Sarcasm came out sharper than she meant it to.
“Don’t be too hard on her,” he said. “You went off and had your adventures. She got stuck looking after her father.”
The words stung because they were true enough to sting.
Selena rose before she could answer in a way she’d regret. “I better go.”
Robert started to push himself up.
“It’s okay, Dad,” she said. “You stay comfy.”
He ignored that, of course. Both hands braced on the chair arms; he got to his feet in stages. Watching him struggle through the simple act of standing made something pull hard inside her chest. By the time he was upright, she was already close enough to smell the pipe tobacco again.
“Please come back,” he said. “Come for dinner.”
“I’ll call ahead this time,” she said with a gentle smile.
A faint smile touched his mouth. “That would be nice.”
Instead of hugging him again, Selena leaned in and kissed his cheek. The gesture surprised both of them a little. His skin felt cold and rough. He closed his eyes for half a moment as if savoring the affection.
“I’ll come by soon,” she said.
His hand found hers and squeezed. The grip was weaker than it used to be, but it was still his.
“I’d like that.”
She held on one second longer, then let go.
The yard seemed darker crossing back through it. Porch light behind her. Car waiting at the curb. The old swing shifted in the breeze with a soft rusty creak. When Selena reached the driver’s door, she looked back once.
Robert had lowered himself into the chair again. Pipe ember glowing dull orange. One hand lifted in a small wave.
She lifted hers back and got into the car.
The engine started. She drove to the corner, turned, and then pulled over so abruptly the seat belt locked against her chest. The sound of the crickets disappeared into nothingness like a faded memory.
The first sob hit before she fully understood what was happening.
It tore out of her, hard and ugly and humiliating in the dark cab of the rental.
She bent forward over the steering wheel and tried to drag air into her lungs, but another came behind it, and then another.
Tears blurred the dash lights into smeared color.
One hand covered her mouth as if that might contain the sound.
It didn’t.
Years had gone by without this. Funerals, crime scenes, men with bullets in them, women who had lost children, victims staring at her across interview tables while trying not to break.
She had held together through all of it.
That was part of the job. Part of being Selena Raven.
Hold the line. Keep the voice even. Finish what’s in front of you.
A detour and a porch and her father saying Lena had broken through all of that in under twenty minutes.
“I’m fine,” she said aloud, and the words came out shredded and her breathing was staggered.
Nothing about this felt fine.
She cried until the force of it burned itself down to shuddering breaths and a wet face and a pounding behind her eyes. By then night had taken the street. Porch lights glowed on scattered houses. Insects threw themselves against the windshield and left faint specks.
Selena scrubbed both hands over her face, checked the mirror, and continued driving.
No point going to Jessie’s now. No point arriving red-eyed and raw and pretending she could manage a difficult reunion on top of everything else.
She hadn’t seen her dad in two years, but she hadn’t seen Jessie for many more than that.
The Wilson Motel would do. A locked door, a shower, bad coffee in the morning.
Enough to hopefully get her through the next few days.
Town thinned around her as she headed out. Houses gave way to stretches of field and ditch and trees. Storefronts closed up for the night. The pink in the sky drained away until only a bruised band remained at the horizon, then that too was gone.
Darkness in Harlan County was different from city darkness.
Fewer lights. More room for the mind to wander where it shouldn’t.
The road ahead shone in her headlights and vanished beyond them.
Fence posts flashed past. A mailbox. A stand of corn gone black as cut paper.
Twice she checked the rearview mirror for no reason she could name.
Home had gotten under her skin fast. Too fast. She rolled down her window and let the night air seep in. It smelled both young and old. Fresh and corrupted. Soil and flowers in the dark.
By the time the motel sign flickered into view in the distance, a cold unease had settled low in her stomach. Not a thought exactly. Not even a fear she could give shape to. More like an old instinct waking up and refusing to go back to sleep.
She kept driving toward the motel, hands tight on the wheel.
For the first time since returning to Harlan County, Selena felt it clearly.
She should never have come home.