Chapter Forty-Six
Forty-Six
Leanne parked and looked out at the canyon. She didn’t really have time for this, but she’d promised herself and she’d broken enough commitments lately.
“So, that’s today’s bombshell,” Sam told her over the phone.
There had been so many bombshells lately, Leanne could barely keep track. The latest news involved the fire chief.
“Okay, well, if you hear about anything happening at the sheriff’s office, give me a heads-up,” Leanne said. “Our work overlaps with them, and I don’t want to step on any land mines.”
“You got it,” Sam said. “Talk to you soon.”
Clicking off, Leanne slid from the shiny new pickup she’d rented while hers was in the shop. She guzzled some water down and tossed the bottle into the passenger seat. Then she bent over and plucked sticker burrs from the laces of her running shoes.
Tires on gravel made her look up as a black Silverado rumbled up the road. Leanne’s pulse quickened. She leaned against her door and folded her leg back, stretching her quads.
Duncan parked by the trailhead sign and got out.
“Hey,” she said.
He slammed the door and tromped over. He wore a T-shirt and brown tactical pants, and his boots were coated with dust.
“You coming or going?” he asked.
“Just got here.” She switched legs, stretching the other one behind her. “Want to join me?”
“No.”
He rested his hands on his hips and looked her over.
“I got your message,” he said.
“I was going to come by your house later.”
“Saw you here and thought I’d save you the trip.” He stepped closer. “We can get it over with.”
“Get what over with?”
He paused a beat. “You’re leaving, right?”
Her chest squeezed. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Come on, Leanne.”
She clicked the locks with a chirp and zipped the key fob into her belt bag.
She looked up, and Duncan was watching her with that steely gaze. He was spoiling for a fight, and she didn’t blame him. She’d been dodging him for days now.
“Things have gotten bad at work,” she told him.
Bad was an understatement. In the six days since Jim McBride’s arrest, the FBI had shown up and raided his office.
Same for the fire chief’s. As of this morning, McBride was sitting in jail, after being denied bail, and according to the phone call Leanne had just had with Sam, Glenn Meachum had been charged with three counts of bribery.
That didn’t even count the other potential charges related to him testifying falsely against Sean Moriarty.
Evidently, Meachum had been the “off-duty firefighter” who claimed to have seen Sean’s car leaving the scene where Hannah Rawls’s body was found.
The whole thing was a debacle that implicated multiple local officials from multiple agencies. The Chisos County Sheriff’s Office hadn’t been hit yet, but there were rumors flying that they could be next.
Some people blamed Ron Hausmann for ratting out his lifelong friends. Some people blamed McBride—the bad apple that had spoiled the bunch.
Others blamed Leanne. As a relative newcomer and someone whose father was involved, she made a fair target.
“I’m not leaving,” she said.
Duncan squinted. “No?”
“No. That’s not why I called.”
“Oh.” His shoulders relaxed a fraction. “What is it, then? It sounded important.”
She tightened her ponytail and crossed her arms over her chest. “I wanted to see if you wanted to go to dinner with me.”
“Go to dinner.” He leaned forward. “What, like a date?”
“Yeah.”
“In public?”
“Yeah.”
He looked blank.
“If you don’t want to be seen with—”
“No, no,” he said. “I’m just—I thought you wanted to keep it casual. No strings, no gossip, and all that.”
“Yeah, well.” She shrugged. “I’ve decided I don’t care what people say anymore.”
“You don’t care,” he stated, and the side of his mouth curved up.
“That’s right.”
He stepped closer and slid his hand around her waist. “It’s about fucking time.”
“So, you’re in?”
“I’m in. You mean like tonight?”
“Sure.”
“Name the place. I’m all in.” He pulled her against him. “Or we could just stay home.”
“I want dinner first. I’ll be hungry.” She eased back, and he released her. “Give me two hours. I have some stuff to do.”
He looked skeptical again. “Something’s up. What is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you.”
She held his gaze for a long moment. “We’ll talk about it later.”
She went up on tiptoes and kissed him, then set off on the trail. Gravel crunched behind her as he drove out of the lot.
As of today, Duncan was one of the few cops who was still talking to her.
Josh Cooper was, too. And Mark Rodriguez.
Yes, plenty of people hated her—including Nadine, who hadn’t spoken to her all week.
Leanne was getting the cold shoulder from half the uniforms in her department and even some of the fire and EMT guys.
Last night she’d come home to find the word BITCH graffitied in fluorescent orange across her front door.
This morning she’d borrowed a can of paint from Michelle and painted over it.
Then she’d gone to work, where she’d gotten another surprise when Josh, who had been appointed acting police chief, pulled her into his new office and offered her a promotion.
Deputy chief of police. And Leanne would get a chance to help hire her backfill.
The job was hers if she wanted it. After overcoming her initial speechless shock, she told him she’d think about it.
That was nine this morning, and she’d thought of almost nothing else since.
Leanne focused on the trail and picking her footing on the uneven rocks.
She hadn’t been out here all week, and she felt it in the way her lungs started to burn before she made it to the third switchback.
She increased her pace, punishing herself, as the trail sloped up.
A cramp bit into her side, but she ignored it, focusing instead on the steep terrain.
After pushing and pushing, she made it to the overlook.
Leanne stopped, gasping for breath. To her left was a huge boulder—Eagle Rock. And to her right was the peeling orange madrone with its twisty limbs. Her heart squeezed as she thought of her dad bringing her up here when she was a child.
Still catching her breath, she looked out. The sun was sinking over the bluffs, coloring the cliffs pink and lavender. A purple shadow to the south marked the deep gorge where water had cut through layers and layers of rock.
Tears burned her eyes as she thought of him again.
What would he have said to the Rawls family now?
And to Alma Cruz, who was still waiting for news of her missing daughter?
Leanne had talked to Alma repeatedly in recent days as word spread about the serial killer in Chisos County who had been hiding in plain sight all this time.
Leanne could tell from Alma’s eyes that she understood.
She knew that when the forensic evidence came together, the hope she’d been keeping alive for years likely would be snuffed out forever.
How many other families would get word soon that their missing daughter or sister was never coming home? The question haunted Leanne. With the recent advances in DNA, it was only a matter of time before all those unidentified remains Jen Sayers had processed in her laboratory could be given a name.
The question that haunted her most, though—the one that jolted her awake in the middle of the night—was a different one: How many of those victims would be alive right now if someone had acted sooner? If only someone had done the right thing, instead of the easy thing, way back in the beginning.
Wiping her eyes, Leanne stared out over the vast canyon. The beauty of this place always got to her. The ruthlessness, too. She followed the ribbon of highway where years ago she’d set out on her long trip north, so determined to escape this place and the ties that were strangling her.
She’d been so focused back then. She’d had a goal, a mission.
Things had looked so clear in the beginning.
Leave it to her hometown to muddle everything up.
In some ways, Madrone was just like her family—conflicted, flawed, dysfunctional.
But they were stuck with one another, for better or for worse, swept up in the same strong current and forced to swim together.
She thought of Jim McBride leaning back in that chair in his office. He and others had told her justice was complicated. But it wasn’t. On this one thing at least, Leanne agreed with Max Scott and the reporters who’d been covering their story with thinly veiled outrage.
There was right and wrong. It was that simple. There were lines, and people had crossed them.
Her father had.
And the fallout from what had happened on that hot July day in that stuffy interview room was still going on sixteen years later.
People felt betrayed. Their trust was broken.
And working without trust—not to mention basic cooperation—made her job infinitely harder.
It wasn’t just Leanne’s problem now—it was Josh’s, too, and Mark’s, and Duncan’s, and everyone who wore a badge.
Every cop out here was facing blowback now, and the news just kept coming.
Local law enforcement was strained enough already, dealing with immigration and the pressures of tourism and the messy politics of it all.
And now they had shattered trust to deal with on top of everything.
Restoring people’s faith was going to be a long, hard slog, if it could even be done at all.
Sometimes things were lost, and there was no getting them back.
Leanne unzipped her pack and took out her phone. She paused for a moment, giving herself one last chance to reach a different conclusion. She took a deep breath and made the call.
“Yeah.”
“Hey, Coop, it’s me.”
“I know.”
She pictured Josh at the chief’s old desk, neck-deep in problems and paperwork, drowning in his new role and desperate for a lifeline.
“About our conversation earlier—” She cleared her throat. “I’d like to accept.”
No response. Leanne waited, holding her breath as the seconds ticked by.
And then finally: “Good.”
Good. So much relief, and confidence, packed into that one little word.
She smiled. “Okay, then.”
“Thanks, Everhart. I’ll see you at work.”
She ended the call and tipped her head back to look at the sky as emotions washed over her. She looked out at the canyon again. On the far horizon, feathery gray clouds gave way to a burgeoning thunderhead.
Leanne got back on the trail, picking up her pace. She needed to finish before the cloudburst.