The truck’s diesel engine roared to life, and Cole headed toward the highway, turning left to go north out of town toward his place. The motion of the truck calmed her as he drove past his house and on another half mile, signaling left at the turnoff to Lookout Mountain.
She knew where they were going, and as they entered the thin stand of pine that covered the hillside, she rolled down her window to take in the scent of the forest. This wasn’t really a mountain, but rather a hill that rose up on the north side of town, with a road that wound up the backside leading all the way to the top. Once there, they could take in a view of the entire town and beyond into the surrounding meadows. During the day, that is. Tonight, the view would be different.
The sound of Robo’s yawn came from the back, making Cole glance in the rearview mirror before catching Mattie’s eye. “A drive always puts the kids to sleep.”
She acknowledged his humor with a thin smile and turned away to look out at the shadowy evergreens. A quarter moon cast a weak glow, allowing the stars to pop. It looked like every star in the sky shimmered, and though Mattie seldom thought about life after death, she wondered about it now. Was Willie in some heavenly place where he no longer felt pain and the stresses of life? Or was death the end of everything? Oblivion, nothingness?
They reached the end of the road, and Cole pulled over to park at the lookout. The streetlights of Timber Creek lit up the east side of town, while the windows of homes on the west side glowed warmly.
“I hear they’re going to put streetlights on the west side of town,” she said. That seemed like a safe topic. “It’s a good thing for families with kids out after sundown, but I think I’ll miss the darkness.”
“Why is that?”
Mattie hadn’t given any thought about why; she’d merely been musing aloud. “I guess I like the privacy. Maybe it feels more cozy.”
Cole didn’t comment as he shut down the engine and turned off the headlights. Then he leaned back, and Mattie knew he was waiting for her to speak first. Robo circled and lay down on the back seat.
“Stella came by with results of Willie’s autopsy.” She glanced at him, but he was looking out the windshield at the lights of Timber Creek. “There was evidence that he’d been tortured and then set on fire while he was still alive.”
“Good God, Mattie!” He looked at her now, shadows overlaying his face so that she couldn’t see his eyes. He reached out to grasp her hand and she held on, not realizing her fingers were so cold until he’d clasped them within the warmth of his.
“They’ve sent blood tests to the lab to see if he’d started using again, and to look for other substances. I guess that will be back in a few days.”
“I think it hardly matters if he’d started using again. Your brother was murdered, that’s what matters. I think that’s where the focus should be, not on whether he might’ve brought this on himself.” Cole waved his hand in frustration. “That’s not … you know what I mean.”
“I know. But if he was back into drugs, we might get a lead out of California, someone he used to be associated with. Or even a new connection. A lot will depend on what the detective in L.A. can turn up. See if any of his old gang had connections to Timber Creek.”
He began chafing her fingers between his two hands. “You’re cold. Do you want me to turn on the heater?”
“No, it’s only my hands that are cold, and now they’re warming up.” She slipped her free hand under her leg for warmth, thinking about the other thing that plagued her. “I wish I could go back in time and meet with Willie as soon as he contacted me last fall.”
“Life can be full of regrets if you focus on them. We make decisions for whatever reasons we have in the moment, not because we have some superhuman vision of what will happen in the future.”
She’d pulled away from her brother after he apologized to her for not keeping their father from molesting her, memories she’d suppressed until then. Although she didn’t blame Willie for their father’s actions, she’d had to withdraw from him to deal with the tumult he’d set off with his one phone call. It had taken time and counseling to sort out exactly how she felt toward both him and her mother, something she had to determine before she could tackle the prospect of reuniting with either of them.
Her past was something she felt ashamed of, and she’d never shared all the details with Cole. She couldn’t explain to him now how complicated it had all been.
“I know I can’t focus on the regret, but it still slips into my mind, you know.”
“I know.”
They sat in silence for a few moments while Mattie decided what to say next. “I want justice for Willie. I want to find something that will pull this case together, but most of what we’ve found so far seems related to something else, not him.”
“Like the slug and casing we found with the dead ram. But we have to wonder if the ram’s death is related to William’s death in some way. Why would someone take that shot when all of us were up there in the area? I still think the shooter might have been trying to pull us away from the area around the gravesite.”
But there was more he hadn’t heard about. “Today they excavated three graves in the depressions we saw from the ridge. Old graves, with skeletonized remains.”
“Good grief. I thought that could be the case, although I didn’t want to believe it. Not here, not so close to home.”
“One was a child.”
Cole’s breath released in a huff, the news evidently leaving him speechless. He stared out the windshield. Finally, he spoke. “Can they tell how many years ago those bodies were buried?”
“Not with pinpoint accuracy. But Robo found a handgun, a Desert Eagle .357 Magnum that was manufactured in the eighties. Agent Lawson thinks the gun might be the weapon used. There was lead inside one skull, and ballistics can tell if it matches up with the pistol.”
Cole tapped the steering wheel with his index finger. “Did this gun have anything to do with William’s death?”
“We found it in the ravine by his gravesite, but it looks like it’s been exposed to the elements for years. So probably not.” She struggled to speak normally despite the tightness in her throat. “Besides, there were no bullets found in his body.”
Cole continued to hold her hand as he studied her. “The way he died is a horrible thing, Mattie. Are you going to be all right?”
She turned away from him to look out her window, struggling to control the urge to weep. The console between the bucket seats acted as a barrier, but Cole scooted as close as he could and reached to place his arm around her shoulders. He drew her gently against his chest. The comfort of his embrace tipped the balance, and Mattie couldn’t hold her tears back any longer. She buried her face against him and sobbed, while he stroked her hair and murmured his sympathy.
When she quieted, Cole shifted slightly, still holding her close, and then offered her his handkerchief. She tried to pull away, but Cole adjusted his arm so that she could face front and he continued to hold her, pressing his lips against her hair. Spent, she leaned against his shoulder and wiped her eyes and wet cheeks with his bandana.
“How can I help?” Cole asked.
She squeezed shut her eyelids and fought the temptation to withdraw, her fallback move. “It helps to talk.”
“I’m listening.”
“When we were kids,” she said, “Willie and I spent a lot of time together. Most of the attention we got from our dad was abusive, and our mom seemed preoccupied. She loved us, but she didn’t play with us like you do with your kids. We were on our own.”