Chapter Twenty-Three
Marietta Police Department
Cal might have been standing in the Marietta police station parking lot, but his mind was back in Aly and Landon’s dining room, Landon’s words echoing in his head.
What’s wrong, Cal?
He couldn’t get it out of his head. Hadn’t been able to since last night. He’d barely slept. Just Landon’s careful, deep voice asking that question.
If this had happened a year ago, he would have shoved these feelings away. He would have told himself nothing was wrong, and he was just fine.
But now … now, he knew what it felt like. When his brain was hiding something from him.
It was never hiding the good things.
So he didn’t want to keep pushing into Gerald Harrington’s suicide. He didn’t want to find out more about how Charles Hayes had died or what Mr. Everly had to do with any of it.
But he knew he had to. Or it would keep building, building, building until he had a breakdown.
Damn it. He was tired of breaking down.
He waited in the parking lot for Hayes like they’d agreed. Just like they’d done yesterday. And just like yesterday, Cal was early and Jake was late.
“Sorry, got held up,” Jake said when he approached. “Ready?”
Cal nodded. It was a strange turn of events to suddenly be working side by side with Detective Hayes, but what wasn’t strange since coming home last spring?
The truth made for strange bedfellows—Sam Price and Detective Jake Hayes definitely at the top of the list.
“I don’t think Sam’s too happy we’re pushing this,” Cal offered as he climbed into Jake’s truck in the police station parking lot.
“Didn’t know you cared about Sam’s approval,” Hayes returned, eyes on the road as he drove out of the parking lot.
“I don’t.” Though he did care about how Sam’s approval trickled down and around the other people in his life. “Figured you did.”
Jake shot him a look out of the corner of his eye. It was just a flick of a glance, but Cal saw everything he’d suspected right there in it.
It eased him some, to feel like he had some kind of upper hand somewhere.
“Nope,” Jake replied easily, but it didn’t change that look.
Detective Jake Hayes had a thing for Sam.
Which explained the weird tension in the air when Jake had come into the office to share that his father’s remains had been recovered.
Nate must be very aware of said thing because there had been nothing but …
antagonism between the two. Even when they hadn’t acted on it.
Cal nearly smiled. He certainly liked thinking about other people’s complicated and perhaps contentious relationships rather than what was going on in his brain.
The drive wasn’t too long, but it was an uncomfortable, tense kind of silence the whole way. Because they both knew what they were doing—but Cal didn’t think either one of them had a clue as to why. Particularly together.
Jake pulled up into the drive of the house they’d come to yesterday. A tiny, suburban home with a very well-tended yard. No one had answered yesterday. Maybe no one answered today.
Cal wasn’t sure at what point they’d be content to give up. He didn’t know much at all. The only thing he knew for sure was he had to keep moving forward, poking into things long buried, until they weren’t haunting his nightmares anymore.
Don’t tell. A voice in his head—sometimes Glenda’s, sometimes his mother’s. He wasn’t sure if it was real memory or just … some kind of haunting.
Just like yesterday, neither of them got out of the truck right away. Cal glanced at Jake, who glanced at him with an expression that Cal fully understood. It seemed to say why the hell are we doing this and how did we end up doing it together?
But here they were.
They hadn’t called ahead yesterday, and they hadn’t called ahead today. They both agreed that some element of surprise might work in their favor.
Cal got out first, breaking the seal, so to speak. Hayes followed. Up a neat stone pathway to the front door. Cal rang the bell, Jake waiting just behind him on the stoop.
Today, he sensed movement from inside, and after a few moments the knob turned, and the door opened to an older man.
He had a shock of white hair, lines like deep grooves around his eyes and mouth—a sign of being out in the sun a lot and smoking as much as, if not more so, than from age.
His dark gaze moved over the both of them for a moment, then a smile bloomed.
“Cal Bennet.” He reached out for Cal’s hand, pumped it eagerly. “It’s good to see you.”
“You, too, Mr. Everly.” The warm greeting actually served to ease some of Cal’s tension.
Even though he was here under not-great circumstances, well, it was nice to be greeted with something like happiness.
“Maybe you remember Jake Hayes,” Cal said, gesturing to Jake behind him. “Another Marietta High graduate.”
Again the old man’s gaze moved over the other man on his stoop. “Of course,” he said, his tone gentling, something in his gaze softening from that happiness to a kind of … sympathy. “I knew your father.”
Jake nodded. “Yeah. I guess I didn’t really put that together when I was in school.”
“He was … well, he was a character. I always enjoyed his company.” Mr. Everly shook his head. “So sad what happened.”
“Yeah. It was … too bad.”
Cal wasn’t sure why Jake sounded so stiff. He’d expected a detective to be all sorts of comfortable with the uncomfortable. Didn’t detectives have to do all sorts of delicate things? And in a small town like Marietta, more often than not, with people they knew?
Still, Cal figured that was his sign to take over.
“We have some questions to ask you, Mr. Everly. I don’t want to put you out, considering we just showed up on your doorstep out of the blue with no warning, but—”
“Come in. Come in. An old, retired guy doesn’t get many visitors these days.” He waved them inside, all smiles and kindness.
Everything was small, a little worn, but cozy. Dark woods and colors, but light streamed in from the windows. Mr. Everly gestured them toward a leather couch before taking a seat on a recliner.
Cal was pretty sure Jake was as uncomfortable and awkward as him taking a seat next to each other on the couch, but there weren’t really any other choices.
“I followed your career, Cal. Impressive.” Mr. Everly glanced over at Jake, leaned forward with a kind of exaggerated conspiratorial glance. “I like to take some credit. Always told him he should be a lawyer.”
“Yeah, but it was never a compliment.”
Mr. Everly laughed and slapped his knee. “No, it sure wasn’t.” His smile seemed so genuine. “But my God, you were a bright, sharp kid, Cal. I’m sure you still are. Smart enough to get out, huh?”
Get out. He’d thought so once upon a time. That he’d left because he was too smart, too good for this place … not running from his own memories.
“Back now,” Cal said, not sure why he needed to point that out, considering he had to be grateful he’d gotten out for a while, lived a different, non-Bennet life. Maybe he’d always been running away from the truth, but there’d been good lessons out there too.
“Well, boys, what can I help you with today?”
Cal glanced at Jake, a nonverbal go for it.
Jake nodded almost imperceptibly. “Mr. Everly, I was wondering if you could tell me about the hunting trip.”
Mr. Everly didn’t take that in with surprise so much as … a kind of discomfort. He shifted in his chair.
“I know it’s been a long time,” Jake continued.
“I’m sorry if it might be … difficult, but they recovered my father’s remains recently, and …
I’m not expecting to find anything important here.
It was an accident. That much is clear. I’m just trying to get a sense of, well, who my father was, I guess.
Something I just couldn’t do at fourteen.
And part of that is having a picture in my head of what went on the day he died. ”
Cal glanced at Jake. Either the guy was being really earnest—something Cal had never seen before—or he was really good at knowing what angles to use to get someone to talk.
Cal voted the latter.
“I understand that,” Mr. Everly said quietly.
“Lost my father young too. You hit a certain age, and suddenly you want to understand who they were.” Mr. Everly blew out a breath.
He got a kind of faraway look in his eyes.
“Your father was … well, he was our comic relief. Never took anything too seriously like Gerald and I did.”
“Sounds like him,” Jake said.
Maybe there was a hint of bitterness, but it was hard to tell if Cal was imagining it or not.
“I’m not sure the three of us would have really been friends if not for Vietnam. A teacher, a rancher, and a…” Mr. Everly trailed off, cleared his throat. “A jack of all trades,” he decided loftily.
This time when Jake snorted, it was definitely bitter.
“But we got to know each other when we came back. Down at the VFW. Didn’t start going on our little hunting trips until the nineties, I’d say. Gerald’s boy wasn’t much into hunting, and I never had any children of my own. Charles…”
“Never thought to bring me, I’m sure.” Jake managed a smile, but Cal didn’t think he or Mr. Everly found it particularly convincing.
“Well, our trips with the three of us were more about getting away. Talking about our military days. Gerald and I, in particular, saw some particularly … terrible things as soldiers. It was kind of like … group therapy.” Mr. Everly chuckled somewhat self-deprecatingly.
“Charles was the comic relief when Gerald and I got a little too morbid. He’d deployed, of course, but hadn’t dealt with quite what Gerald and I did. ”
“And there was always alcohol on these trips? To help with that?”
Mr. Everly kind of winced. “Gerald and I … we were a little more careful with our drinking. When we were all younger, we’d learned if we all got deep in it, we tended to…” Mr. Everly raised his hands. “Well, I dealt with both of you in my office for fighting, so I suppose you understand.”