“God . . . God . . . ,” she cried again, grief washing over her. She had now lost nearly everything. Her family was not what she thought it was, and her husband was not who she thought he was. There was no reasonable explanation for why Vance had told her he was going to see a detective who had died two years ago.
Adelle told her that Vance had been at the funeral. Lindy vaguely remembered him talking about a former detective who had died of a heart attack and how he thought the job had killed him.
There was just no reasonable explanation.
Her phone rang. It was Vance. Again. She could see him through the window, pacing in the kitchen. She wiped the tears and tried to take a breath. “Hello?”
“Hey, babe. Just checking on you. Are you okay?”
Lindy couldn’t answer that.
“Lindy?”
She swallowed. She had to be okay, at least in the short term, to try to figure this out. She had a little boy who needed at least one stable parent. But which one of them was stable? “Yeah. I’m here. Sorry. Bad connection.”
“When will you be home?”
“Soon.”
“You sound . . . strange.”
“Just tired.”
“Listen, Lindy, some things happened today. And I need to talk to you, okay?”
“Sure. I’m about thirty minutes away.” That should give her enough time to get herself pulled together. She couldn’t be falling apart. She wasn’t sure how she was going to confront him. If she even should. Her confidence rose and dove with every other breath.
Why had she walked her tumultuous marriage alone? Why hadn’t she asked for God’s help before?
Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was shame. She didn’t know. All she knew now was that prayer was the only thing she could cling to.
Things were making less sense by the minute.
Or by the second. Because as she glanced up, she saw a car pull to the front curb of her home. A woman got out.
Lindy leaned forward, gripping the steering wheel.
It was Erin Lester.
* * *
Conner had drained Vance of nearly all his energy. The kid was bored out of his mind, and his favorite play toy right now was Vance. He tried his best to focus on his son. He knew Conner needed him. But his mind kept wandering back to Joe, Conner with the gun, the whole incident. It incensed him. Joe was a thug. That smug look he kept giving Vance. Taunting him. Taunting his son.
Finally Conner rested a bit, engaged with a cardboard box, tape, scissors, and four rocks he was calling Rock Men. Lindy was always concerned when Conner used scissors and would hover over him. But the kid had held a loaded gun today. Vance could live with a little unmonitored scissor time.
He wondered when Lindy would be home. He was anxious to talk to her. He had a lot to get off his chest, not the least of which was Conner’s foray into firearms. She was not going to take that well. But the question was, which bomb should he drop first? Or maybe he should wait and go get their stuff.
He was unsure what Joe’s next move would be. He hoped he’d made it clear enough that he wasn’t messing around anymore. Yet even as he knew where his possessions were, he didn’t feel an urgency to get them. Right now he wanted to make things right with Lindy. Tie his family back together. Balance things out.
Yes. Balance. That’s what he craved. That’s why he’d moved out here in the first place.
A knock. Vance instinctively reached for his weapon, which he was keeping on his belt at the moment. His hand stayed on the gun as he rushed to the door and opened it.
“Erin?”
“Yeah. Erin. Surprise.”
“What are you doing here? I told you to go home.”
“I know what you told me.” She swept past him and into the house. Vance followed her, not even shutting the front door.
Conner raced around the corner, then stopped, observing Erin. Vance didn’t feel like making the polite introduction that he normally would. They’d been trying to teach Conner how to shake hands and look people in the eye. But right now he wanted him to be rude and go back to his room.
“Hey, buddy. Just some business stuff. Go play, okay?”
“Hi,” he said to Erin, smiling.
Now the kid decides to use his manners?
Erin smiled back. “How are you?”
“Good! I’m playing with some rocks.”
“Okay, Conner, back to your room.”
“I like her, though.”
“That’s very nice. I’m glad. But we need to talk. Adult talk.”
“Fine,” Conner said, rolling his eyes. He gestured toward the open door. “But we don’t live in a barn, Dad.” He disappeared around the corner.
Vance turned to Erin. “What are you doing here?”
“I never left. I can’t leave. There is a lot undone here.”
“There’s nothing undone, Erin. I don’t know why you’re struggling with this. We were partners. We went through a lot together. I get that. But that doesn’t chain me to you.”
“Wake up, Graegan. I’m not here for that. You’ve got something that I want.”
Vance sighed loudly like a large tire deflating. “You’ve got to get over this. We had a deal.” His voice started rising, but he couldn’t help it. “The deal was that you stop drinking. The deal was that I had to do what I had to do so I could sleep at night.”
“It’s not my problem that you’re led by your guilty conscience.”
“Besides, I don’t even have the disc.” He gestured dramatically toward the living room. “I don’t have anything, as you can plainly see.”
“I don’t get it. You don’t want my help finding your stuff? You’re just going to let it all go?”
“I found it, okay? Behind a building in an old industrial park near here. I’m going back to—”
With no warning, pain splintered through Vance’s skull, so sharp that it caused him to squeeze his eyes shut. It felt like he’d been slammed by an axe. He opened his eyes. Erin was blurry. Another migraine. He’d had them off and on in Maryland. Migraine medicine never worked.
“What’s wrong with you?” Erin asked, peering at him.
“Erin, just leave, okay? Just please leave. I made a promise to you. I’m holding on to my side of the deal. Hold on to yours, and we’re fine. But I need you out of my life right now.”
Vance closed his eyes again. The pain was about to bring him to his knees.
“What’s going on here?”
Vance and Erin both looked toward the doorway. Lindy stood there, arms crossed. Vance glanced at Erin, who didn’t hint at being surprised. Vance was sure he looked both surprised and guilty even though he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
“Hello, Lindy.”
“Erin, why are you here? You live in Chicago.”
Erin’s voice was smooth. “Just trying to help Vance out. Get your things back. Right, Vance?”
“You told her? When did you tell her?”
Vance held the side of his head, trying to ignore the pain, but it was nearly impossible. “Look, Lindy, Erin was just about to leave.”
“I’m sure she was,” Lindy said. “Where’s Conner?”
“Mom!” Conner burst around the corner, into her arms. “I missed you!”
Vance looked at Erin. “Let’s go.” He took her by the arm and nearly pushed her to the door.
Erin wiggled away from him. “I’m pretty sure I can find my way out.”
“Can you find your way home?”
Erin walked to the front porch and turned to him. Vance stood in the doorway, the crushing pain sending waves of nausea through him.
“You never fully appreciated me, did you?” she said, her eyes hard, cold.
Vance closed the door behind him. “Erin, there is nothing I can do to repay you for what you did for me.”
“I’m your friend, Vance. I will always be your friend. That’s why I’m here. To try to help you.”
“I don’t think your motives are as pure
as you’re making them out to be.”
“I’m trying to help you get your life back. That’s it.”
Vance pitched a thumb over his shoulder. “That’s my life. Everything that matters to me is in there.”
Erin suddenly teared up. It took Vance by surprise. She wasn’t the overly emotional type. “You possess more in that room than I’ve had in my whole life.”
“Erin, listen to me. You have a great life. You’re a great cop. Yeah, you put a little too much into your work, but you don’t have to. Your whole life doesn’t have to be police work. Believe me, I thought I’d never say that, but I realize now how much—”
“Just stop, okay? Maybe you could walk away from it, but I can’t. And you shouldn’t have. You’re pathetic now, you know that?”
“I’m pathetic? Take a good look in the mirror.”
A vein pulsated in Erin’s neck. It always bulged out of the skin when she was angry. They had nicknamed it the Blue Snake.
Vance regretted his words. He wasn’t trying to make a bad situation worse. He just wanted her to go away.
And his head hurt like crazy.
She walked to her car without another word. Vance quickly turned to go inside. He found Lindy in the bathroom, running water for Conner’s bath.
“She dropped by, unannounced.”
Lindy didn’t look at him. Her expression remained strangely neutral.
“We’ve got a lot to talk about tonight. There are things I need to say. To get off my chest.” Vance tried as best as he could to fight off the pain fracturing his skull, but it was hard to even talk. He hadn’t had this kind of headache in a long time. He touched her shoulder. “Let’s get Conner in bed first, okay? And then let’s talk.”
Lindy gave a short, nondefinitive nod. Vance went to the bedroom. He lay down on the blow-up mattress, which was quickly losing air. He sank into it like it was a half-rate water bed. If he wasn’t careful, he might roll right off.
He listened to Conner splash in the bath. The condo was filled with his lighthearted giggles. He’d told him not to mention the gun incident to his mother until after Vance had talked to her.
He closed his eyes, but when he did, the only images that filled the darkness were of the bleak days of his former life. It seemed like ages ago, except he could see everything with such clarity. The blood. The chaos. The fear in his fellow detectives’ eyes.
Intermingled with the pictures he would give anything to forget were Conner’s giggles. Those giggles gave rest to his soul.
18
Parent-wise, there weren’t too many things worse than having gone a sleepless night only to be confronted with a well-rested kid. Conner was up at the crack of dawn, chattering on about the park and the trees and the ocean.
Vance had fallen asleep last night flat on his back with his arm across his face, which meant he’d had another migraine. Back in Maryland, they had been somewhat crippling to him for a while, but as distance grew from the sniper case, the migraines became less frequent.
Lindy let him sleep. She wasn’t sure she could handle what he was going to tell her. And whether or not it had anything to do with Erin Lester.
She didn’t want to admit it because she disliked the idea of hating anyone, but she hated Erin. She hated how intrusive she’d been in their lives, in their marriage. How Vance ignored all the warning signs, dismissing them or making excuses. And now she showed up? Lindy knew it couldn’t have been out of the blue. There were pieces missing to the puzzle.
Vance was still asleep at 8 a.m., and Conner had already eaten breakfast and played outside a little. Inside the condo Lindy felt suffocated, so she took Conner and decided to go to the library.
On the way there, Conner was jabbering in the backseat about whether redwoods could reach heaven, when chills washed over her for a full minute without relief.
Something nagged at her conscience and hammered at her emotions. It was like she’d walked into a tunnel and the only thing to see in the dark was the light ahead. It felt like someone was speaking to her, except nobody was around. There was a voice, but it was indistinguishable. So quiet she had to strain to hear, though she wasn’t listening with her ears.
“Mom?”
Lindy blinked. She was at the library. She had parked. She had no recollection of even turning in.
“Mom?”
“Sorry. Yes, honey?”
“Can we get out?”
Lindy nodded. She got out with him, locked the car. Watched him run across the parking lot to the sidewalk, but there were no cars. Looked like they were the first ones at the library this morning.
Normally she would lecture Conner on library manners, reminding him to be quiet, to not bounce around, to treat the books like they were people, etc. But the doors swooshed open, and Conner hurried in. Lindy didn’t rush after him. She gave a polite nod to the stern-looking librarian who was eyeing Conner as he perused the bookshelves.
Near the kids’ section was a computer and Lindy sat down, putting her purse next to her. She took a deep, settling breath. The tips of her fingers rested gently on the keyboard. She navigated around a little, finding where she could type in a topic.
She set the parameters and then typed four words.
They were the words she’d heard not in her ear, but in her soul. They were altogether confusing and confirming. They were like the light of a lantern, illuminating her path only enough so she could take another step. But right now that was all she could hope for.
She looked up, made sure she’d spelled it right, then slid her finger over the Enter button. She reread the words one more time.
Post-traumatic stress disorder.
* * *
Vance awoke to a quiet house. He got up to look for his family and was shocked to see what time it was. He never slept until nine. He’d always been an early riser. He must’ve fallen asleep while waiting for Lindy to finish up Conner’s bath.
A note on the counter said they were at the library. He sighed. Lindy was avoiding him. He could feel it. And he didn’t blame her. Erin’s showing up was just another blow to an already-dicey situation.
His head still ached, but it was tolerable. Tolerable enough to come up with a game plan. And that included getting his stuff back.
If he could just do that, perhaps it would send them back toward normalcy. He had no doubt that Joe had already taken the disc and the information out of the truck. But Vance knew exposing his own secret would take the power out of Joe’s threats. And he knew it was time. Holding on to it for so long had its costs. He wasn’t willing to pay anymore.
At some point he was going to have to weigh the consequences regarding what was on that disc. In that letter. He was off the force now, but there was a chance they would cut off his pension. They probably wouldn’t prosecute him, but who knew? For Erin, there could be ramifications for her career in Chicago. If her chief found out, she could get fired.
He rubbed his eyes. Memories wanted to flood his mind. They often did when he was tired or stressed. Sometimes he could see nothing but a sniper victim lying in a pool of blood.
Today, though, he had to focus.
He needed to go secure their things. Or at least see if Joe had moved them again. He got dressed, grabbed his gun, and was out the door in twenty minutes. In another five he was at the old mechanic’s yard. The El Camino was gone. But he could see the truck.
He took a moment to look around, notice his surroundings. Joe was expecting him back, and Vance didn’t want to be surprised. But everything looked quiet.
Vance emerged from the car, his hand near his gun, but no badge to flash. The morning air cooled his skin, caused his shirt to breathe a little. He approached the double chain-link gate, which was wired shut. Easily breakable, but he jumped the fence instead, even though that left him more likely to pull a hamstring. The day he couldn’t jump chain-link fences, he’d always joked, was the day he’d retire his badge.
With cautious steps, he walked to the back
of the building. The ground was littered with oil cans, old mechanic tools, rusty engines. With each step he could see more and more of the yellow truck. It was like a giant square highlighter. Joe should’ve picked a color that wasn’t going to stick out like this.
He pulled his gun, just for his own peace of mind. Behind the building were trees and a lot of places to hide . . . even what looked like an outhouse.
He took his time looking around, making sure he was alone. Then he approached the back of the truck. A padlock was the only thing that secured a rod running through the metal frame. Vance got on his knees. He needed to know one thing.
What was on those mud flaps?
As Vance stooped, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Nothing.
Not even mud flaps. There were no mud flaps?
Vance stood and stared at the ground for a moment. He knew he’d seen them. He knew it. And he knew he’d seen the tarot card. He could never mistake it.
“Just get your stuff,” he said, trying to refocus. He could figure the other thing out later. Right now, he had to find out if his belongings were actually in the truck.
He could’ve broken the padlock with his gun, but no cop would ever risk scratching or harming his gun to break a lock, no matter what the movies showed. Instead, he found a good-size rock. With two decent blows, the lock fell off.
Inside it was dark, musty, strangely pungent. But there they were. All his belongings. Even in the shadows, he could see his bed. Their bedside lamps. Conner’s toy box. Vance relaxed a little. He holstered his gun and climbed in.
As his eyes focused in the dark, he began to make out in detail even more things. Conner’s bed. Boxes of clothing marked Winter or Coats.
Then he noticed a pair of shoes right in the middle of the crowded stacks. His eyes focused more, and he thought he could see pants. Maybe Joe had strewn clothes about when digging through the boxes?
Then a shirt . . . Vance stepped closer and covered his mouth to keep the gasp in. It was a body. Hands. Hair. He pulled his gun and glanced over his shoulder. Everything was quiet behind him.
He took a few more steps in, and as soon as his eyes readjusted to the dark, he could clearly see.
It was Joe.