Chapter 18
Hadley Dawkins
The acrid stench of burnt rubber and melted plastic assaulted Hadley's senses before she even stepped out of her SUV. The grotesque odor seeped through the vents and every available open slot of the vehicle. Her body reacted well before her mind could process the scene.
Reed was dead.
There was no preventing her heart rate from accelerating or her muscles from tensing as the sole of her boot came in contact with the ground. She’d been trying to convince herself she’d misunderstood Nick in their phone call, but the flashing lights and emergency vehicles killed any and all hope.
The rural roadside was bathed in flashing blue and red lights, casting an eerie glow on the twisted metal frame that had once been Reed’s truck. Time seemed to slow as Hadley drew closer to the wreckage.
Each step forward was like wading through invisible quicksand, her legs suddenly leaden and uncooperative. The heat from the still-smoldering remains warmed her face despite the night's chill, and thick wisps of smoke continued to rise into the darkness like tormented spirits seeking escape.
She stood frozen, her senses dulled by shock as they struggled to process the horror before her.
The vehicle's frame had warped under intense heat, its once-familiar shape now hideously distorted beyond recognition.
The steering wheel had melted into a macabre sculpture, its synthetic material flowing down into the blackened driver's seat like wax from a forgotten candle.
Through her tunnel vision, it was impossible to ignore the charred remains in the driver’s seat.
The silhouette was unmistakably human, though mercifully indistinct in the wavering light.
Her mind briefly tried to reject the evidence before her eyes, attempting to construct alternative explanations that wouldn't end with Reed Langley's death.
A guttural, primal sound cut through Hadley's mental fog.
The raw anguish in the cry pulled her attention toward its source.
Nora Oliver had collapsed to her knees at the edge of the road, arms wrapped tightly around herself as if trying to physically hold her body together while it threatened to shatter.
One of Turner's deputies knelt beside her, a hand hovering uncertainly over her shoulder, clearly unsure how to comfort someone in the grip of such devastating grief.
“Hadley.”
The voice came from her left, and she turned toward it mechanically, her neck muscles stiff with tension.
Sheriff Nick Turner stood with his hands resting on his utility belt, his expression solemn beneath the brim of his hat.
Even in the shifting emergency lights, she caught the exhaustion in the lines around his eyes.
“Donovan Huber discovered the fire about an hour ago,” Turner explained, his voice low and measured. “He was driving home and spotted the flames. Called it in immediately.”
Hadley's gaze drifted toward a pickup truck parked about thirty yards away.
Donovan Huber leaned against its hood, cell phone pressed to his ear, his free hand gesturing as he spoke to someone on the other end.
As if sensing her attention, he turned his attention toward her.
He raised his hand in acknowledgment, a grave nod accompanying the gesture.
“The fire department arrived in under fifteen minutes,” Turner continued, drawing her attention back.
“By then, there wasn't much they could do except contain it and keep it from spreading to the surrounding areas. I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner, but we didn’t know whose vehicle we were dealing with until… ”
Questions formed in Hadley's mind, but when she tried to voice them, her throat constricted painfully. She swallowed hard, tasting bile at the back of her tongue.
“…and the fire chief says the intensity of the blaze suggests an accelerant was used. We'll know more once the state forensics team gets here.”
The words accelerant and forensics didn’t help her break out of this stupor. Their implications were too unspeakable to contemplate. Not an accident. Not a chance collision with a deer that had somehow caused the truck to erupt in flames.
Someone had done this deliberately.
“I need to...” Hadley managed to gesture vaguely toward her SUV. “Excuse me for a moment.”
Hadley turned away from the wreckage, walking with dignified steadiness back toward her vehicle.
Each step carried her further from the charred remains of Reed Langley, but did nothing to distance her from the reality of what had happened.
She had returned to Whistlerun to investigate a possible connection between missing women, and now Reed was dead.
She couldn’t extinguish the tiniest bit of hope that someone else had been behind the wheel.
Not until the medical examiner identified the body.
As she reached the driver’s side of her SUV, she caught her reflection in the driver's side window.
She barely recognized herself, but that was becoming rather common recently.
Acid climbed to the back of her throat, forcing her to grab the door handle.
Nora's sobs had quieted to a series of broken whimpers. The sounds reminded Hadley of her mother’s grief the day Mason’s sentence had been announced in court.
She stretched across the driver’s seat and reached for the bottle of antacids in the cup holder.
She needed to get herself under control.
She needed to think clearly.
Hadley shook two tablets into the palm of her hand before flipping the lid closed and tossing the bottle on the seat.
While chewing and allowing the chalky substance to coat the back of her throat, she reminded herself that she’d been gone for twelve years.
She hadn’t spoken a single word to Reed in that time, and the last few days didn’t give her the right to grieve as if she’d been a part of his life.
Whatever friendship they once had was long buried beneath a decade of silence and unspoken resentments.
Hadley slammed the door with more force than necessary, as if the sound could jolt her back into professional detachment. By the time she rejoined Sheriff Turner, she had composed herself enough to speak coherently.
“Were you the one to contact Nora?”
“Of course not,” Nick replied, his tone sharp in defense of such a question. It was one Hadley had to ask, though. “Donovan dialed 911, and then he immediately called Nora. She arrived minutes after the fire department.”
“Why would Donovan have called Nora?”
“Whoever torched the truck concentrated on the cab, and the fire department was able to extinguish the flames before they destroyed the entire plate,” Nick replied grimly. “This is definitely Langley’s truck. He thought she should know.”
“What was Donovan doing so far out of town?”
Nick studied her for a moment before responding, perhaps noting the abrupt shift in her demeanor.
“He lives down the road from here.”
“Since when?”
“About two years now,” Nick replied as his deputy helped Nora to stand, though she was still silently crying. “He bought Larry Chester's old place about a mile past Garber's property. Been fixing it up since then.”
“And you spoke to Donovan?” Hadley inquired as she resisted the urge to cross her arms. “He didn’t see anyone near the vehicle? In the vicinity?”
“I took his statement.” Nick checked his watch. “He was working late, so he stopped in at Gus’ place. Shot some pool, had a couple of beers, and then spotted the flames after making the turn.”
Since the medical examiner had to drive from Emberwood, Hadley figured they still had another ten-minute wait. Unless, of course, they were busy with another body or short-staffed tonight.
“I already requested assistance from the State,” Nick advised before pausing to listen to a radio transmission.
“I'm down three deputies who are assisting the DEA on that drug smuggling operation on the west side of the county. I’ve got another five who are in Little Rock for additional SWAT training, one on maternity leave, and two on sick leave. I’m short-staffed, so I’ll be assisting you on this one myself. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
Hadley would fill in temporarily for whoever Brosmer sent out this morning. Given what had just transpired, she would no doubt be pulled from the assignment.
“Clay is in the process of setting up a perimeter. We’ll wait until dawn to canvass the area more thoroughly, but I’m sure you’ll want to be a part of—”
Nick’s sentence was cut off by the arrival of a state patrol unit. Hadley recognized the female trooper, but not the male recruit. She was saved from having to speak with either when her phone vibrated for the third time in the past ten minutes.
“I need to take this,” Hadley murmured, not giving Nick a chance to reply. “Tell them what you need, and they’ll get it done.”
Again, she didn't wait for his response before turning away, her phone still buzzing insistently in her hand.
As she retraced her steps to her SUV, she caught sight of Donovan settling Nora into the passenger seat of his truck.
No doubt he had already spoken to Rena, who was probably busy lighting up every damn phone in the county.
“I’m at the scene,” Hadley said instead of her usual greeting.
She’d answered Brosmer’s call just before it would have gone to voicemail.
She managed to keep her voice steady so that he didn’t offer up any type of platitude.
“A unit just rolled up, but I’m going to need to know who you’re sending out for this. ”
The silence on the other end of the line stretched for several seconds.
Long enough for Hadley to figure out his answer.
“No. If my being here wasn’t a conflict of interest before, it is now. Not even the lieutenant would want me here, Sarge.”
“I just spoke with Lieutenant Holden, and he’s fine with my decision. It’s no different than Langley investigating a local. He had a relationship with them, but that didn’t stop him from doing his job.”