He slouched back into the leather seat and shook his head. He had been doing just fine before Maggie O’Dell came along. He had finally found contentment, burying himself in his work, coming home and sitting with Digger on the back porch. He tried not to spend too much time indulging in memories of his daughter, Ali, but Digger was a constant reminder.
In the beginning it was difficult to even have the dog around, but quickly Digger became Platt’s shadow, his buddy. He knew the dog missed Ali as much as he did. They had been inseparable or as Ali always said, they were “bestest friends.” Now Platt was grateful for the dog’s company and for reminding him of the best memories of Ali and not those dark weeks, months, years that followed her death.
Caring about Maggie was a luxury he hadn’t allowed himself since Ali’s death. Moments like this he questioned the wisdom of it. Being with Maggie, just talking to her—hell, just hearing her voice—made him feel like a college kid again. It was exhilarating. But not hearing from her could make him feel equally miserable. He hated the roller-coaster ride.
So what the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t a kid. He was a colonel, a medical doctor in the United States Army. He was logical and practical and thrived on structure and discipline. He made decisions, solved problems. He went into war zones and hot zones. He had performed surgeries on soldiers while bombs rattled around them. He had treated victims with Ebola working from a tent outside of Sierra Leone. At only thirty-two years old he had seen and done incredible things. Yet nothing compared to the feeling of Maggie sitting on the sofa with him, sockless feet in his lap, while they spent a rare evening watching classic movies or an even rarer Saturday afternoon watching college football.
He looked down at his smartphone again. No new messages in the last five minutes. He pushed Contacts and keyed down to Maggie’s number. He clicked on Text Messages and tapped in “MISS YOU. XXOO BEN.” Then he paused before hitting Send.
Too much?
He tapped Backspace and erased XXOO BEN.
Hesitated again. Tapped Backspace and erased MISS YOU.
Flipping the phone shut, he said out loud to himself, “Coward.”
Just as he reached for the SUV’s door handle he saw it.
The black Suburban, its headlights off, was stopped at the corner. The vehicle’s occupant must have thought it was safe to pull this close, must have thought Platt had already exited his vehicle and gone inside. The Suburban stayed there for only a few seconds longer, just enough time for whoever was driving it to take note of the address. Then it rolled through the intersection. Platt watched it go a full block before putting on its headlights.
Great. Platt had taken some goons to the front door of his parents’ home.
He got out of the Land Rover and went around to the backseat to grab a duffel bag. It looked like he’d be spending the night after all.
CHAPTER 14
NEBRASKA NATIONAL FOREST
The rain became a downpour just as they carried the last body bag over the hill. The wet grass and sand made the climb treacherous. Maggie nearly fell and she wasn’t even carrying a body bag. It was the last compromise she had relinquished to Donny—she let the men carry the bodies. To argue at this point would only be annoying, especially since she was totally and completely exhausted.
She had even given in and allowed the men waiting on the other side of the sand dune to enter the perimeter and help carry out equipment they had used to keep the paper evidence bags from getting soaked. Of course, that was only after Maggie sealed and tagged each bag herself.
The sheriff agreed to lock everything up safe and sound. They’d sort through what they had and decide in the morning where to send the important pieces. Maggie realized there wasn’t much of anything to explain what could have caused the teens’ injuries. Only one Taser was found in the pine needles. Although it had been fired, the probes were no longer attached to any target and not even close to the two dead boys.
Right now it was time to get out of the rain, find some warmth, and get some rest before morning brought another barrage of tasks. Yet Donny, Lucy, and Maggie stood in the rain as if mesmerized by the red taillights that bounced along the wet, glistening two-track path, now worn wider by more vehicles than it had seen in years.
Donny switched on his flashlight just long enough to glance at his watch. Flicked it off. They continued standing in the rain. Without the hum of the generator or car engines, the song of cicadas swelled around them.
“They must not mind the rain,” she said.
Neither Donny nor Lucy responded, but they seemed to understand what she was talking about.
Finally Donny said, “It’s after two. I’m not sure what to do with you.”