“I can’t help Daddy,” Shel said, but it was more for himself than for Don.
“Do you have to tell the military about this?”
“Do you want me to cover it up?”
Don sighed. “No. I suppose enough of that has been done already.”
“I think so too.”
“And even if we didn’t tell them, Daddy would.”
“Too many people are going to wonder why Victor Gant went after Daddy,” Shel said. “Maybe they’ll figure it’s me. But Victor Gant could make that phone call at any time.”
“It would be hard for the military to prosecute Daddy without a body, wouldn’t it?”
“Not if Daddy tells them he killed Hinton. Military courts are different than civilian courts. A soldier’s word, unless it’s proven a lie, is all the evidence you need if it’s an admission of guilt.”
“How could they trust Daddy now? He lied back then.”
“Not to a military court,” Shel pointed out. “And why would he lie now?”
“I’m just saying there could be some confusion.”
Shel was quiet for a moment. “Let me ask you something, Don. Suppose we could somehow get Daddy to stand down on this-which, seeing as how we’ve never been able to convince him of much our whole lives, I don’t see happening-and he isn’t prosecuted. Where does that leave Daddy with God? Those books have still got to be balanced too.”
“God can forgive him,” Don said. “All Daddy has to do is ask God’s forgiveness.”
“Maybe God’s the forgiving type-”
“Don’t you think for a minute that he isn’t.”
“-but Daddy ain’t. He hasn’t given up on his guilt for forty years, and he won’t for forty more.” Shel rubbed his stubbled jaw. “I’ve seen men like Daddy. Guilt rides them hard. Tears them apart from the inside. I don’t know how he’s lasted as long as he has.”
“Because of Mama and us,” Don said. “He knew we needed him.”
“Maybe. But Daddy ain’t gonna turn to God. He don’t figure he deserves it.”
“He might not at first. But if you give him enough time, especially now that the truth is out, he might be able to forgive himself.”
“Don,” Shel said patiently, “this is Daddy we’re talking about. He ain’t never cut nobody no slack. When he draws a line in the sand, right there is where it stays.”
Don laced his hands together behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “I know. You’re right.” He was quiet for a time. “What are you going to do?”
“That’s what I’m telling you. There’s nothing I can do. It’s all out of my hands.”
“Can you accept that?”
“It’s not a matter of accepting it. That’s just the way this is.”
Don eyed him. “Let me ask you a question.”
Shel nodded.
“Why were you in the chapel?”
“Don’t go reading more into that than is there,” Shel warned. Don had always wanted to bring him in closer to the church-not necessarily his church, but any church Shel could attend.
“I’m not reading anything into it. I’m just asking.”
“The chapel was a quiet place to think.”
“Outside could have been a quiet place to think too.”
Shel knew that was true, and he didn’t know why he hadn’t gone outside.
“You needed comfort, Shel. If how I feel is any indication, I know this is bad for you. This… military stuff, that’s more your world than mine. And I think you probably know more about what was in Daddy’s mind the night he shot that man.”
Shel’s voice got thick. “Daddy was twenty-one. He wasn’t much more than a boy. He was away from home, surrounded by men who wanted to kill him, in the company of strangers who took death for granted, and was seduced by every vice you can imagine over there. Everything that he’d known or thought of himself had been left behind. On top of that, he was more scared than he’d ever been before in his life.”
Don just looked at him.
“Yeah,” Shel said, “I know what was going through Daddy’s mind that night. It’s gone through my mind too. Young soldiers make mistakes.”
“Do you think a military court will hold Daddy accountable for what happened over there that night?”
Shel let out a tense breath. “I don’t know. This would be a close call, and there are a lot of people still sensitive over what happened in Vietnam. But the bottom line is that even if the military chose not to find any wrongdoing on Daddy’s part, Daddy’s still going to fault himself. Now that this is out, things could be even worse for Daddy. Have you thought about that?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that if the military court doesn’t see fit to punish Daddy, Daddy may decide to punish himself.”
Don paled as he realized what Shel was talking about. “You’re talking about hurting himself?”
Shel remained quiet.
“Daddy wouldn’t do that,” Don said.
“Daddy lost Mama,” Shel said. “He doesn’t have a good relationship with either one of us. Other than that ranch, what does he have that’s going to keep him alive?”
“I don’t want to believe that.”
“Believe what you gotta believe. But I’ve seen men that were cleared by military investigations who ended up taking their own lives because they allowed a fellow soldier to get killed or accidentally killed one themselves. The choices you’re asked to make out in the field are life-and-death. They’re not easy, and guilt comes awful quick and hard.”
“There is one thing you can do for Daddy,” Don said.
Shel looked away because he knew what was coming, and he really didn’t want to hear it.
“You can pray for him,” Don said. “You can ask God to touch Daddy’s heart and make him strong enough to live through this. No matter what happens.”
“That’s not how I deal with things,” Shel said. “You’re the believer. Not me.”
“Doesn’t take much to be a believer, Shel. Just a little faith. About the size of a mustard seed.”
Shel wished he could believe that, but he’d never been able to find even that little amount of faith. Facing what he was facing now, with everything beyond his control, faith wasn’t what he wanted to reach for-because he feared that would be even less effective than trying to find an answer himself.
56
›› La Quinta Inn
›› El Paso, Texas
›› 1337 Hours (Central Time Zone)
Will wore the Bluetooth headset for his cell phone to keep his hands free as he went through the paperwork involving the Army’s investigation into PFC Dennis Hinton’s disappearance. Something niggled at the back of his mind, not quite within his grasp, but never going away. Over the years with the NCIS he’d learned to pay attention to those details.
“So McGovern confirms the story that Tyrel McHenry shot Hinton?” Will asked.
“That he shot Hinton accidentally, yes,” Maggie answered.
“But he was drunk at the time.”
“That’s correct.”
“Did you get the impression McGovern was telling you the truth?” Giving up for the moment on whatever it was he couldn’t quite think of, Will got out of his chair and looked out the window.
The sun was bright and hard over the desolate countryside that began just beyond the motel parking lot. Mirages created by the heat shimmered over the twisted trees and scrub brush that dotted the landscape.
“I believed him,” Maggie said. “Remy and I leaned on him pretty hard. We left him with the impression that we could take his medical check away if he was involved in any of this more than he said he was or if he was lying about it now.”
“Hinton’s body is still out there?”
“That’s what McGovern said. Remy and I gave him maps, and he tried to locate the area where Hinton’s body was left, but-”
“It’s been forty years and we can’t trust what he thinks he remembers.” Will felt frustrated.
“I don’t think he was exactly sober that night, either. Tyrel wasn’t the only one who had been drinking. All of them appeared to have been intoxicated.”
That caught Will’s attention and he knew he was tracking down part of what was bothering him. “Not everyone,” he said softly. “You and Shel both agreed that Hinton wasn’t drinking that night.” He turned back to the papers on the desk.