So he didn’t spend a lot of time looking at the photographs now—except to take note of the fact that the ditch and field where the car had landed were immediately after a long line of trees, which was part of what had kept anyone that night from seeing the over-turned car for so many hours.
First, Caden saw the mile marker, and then he found the tree line. He pulled the Jeep onto the side of the road. Sitting in the driver’s seat, Caden surveyed the scene, but beyond his knowledge of the photographs, not a thing there looked familiar. And why would it? The accident had occurred late at night and, by the time daylight broke, Caden had been out of his mind.
Taking a deep breath, Caden got out of the Jeep and walked around to the grass. The irrigation ditch was still there, creating a deep slope downward just a few feet off the edge of the road. He climbed into it. Stood there. Crouched down and placed his hand against the frozen earth where two people he’d loved had died.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you, Mom and Sean. I’m sorry I lost you. I love you. And I’m trying so damn hard to make you proud.
Closing his eyes, he let his head hang on his shoulders.
A tractor trailer roared past, and the sound of it was familiar enough to send cold chills down Caden’s back. But Caden wasn’t trapped in that car. He wasn’t. Not anymore.
He rose to his feet and looked around for one last minute. There weren’t any ghosts there. There weren’t any answers there. The past wasn’t there.
The realization brought both relief and frustration. Relief that he’d come to this place and found it to be…just a place. Just an ordinary roadside sitting under the winter gray sky. Frustration because going there hadn’t brought him any closer to figuring out how to close the door on the past.
What else could give him any sense of closure?
Back in the Jeep, he flipped through the investigation file. A name caught his attention. David Talbot. The paramedic who’d been the first person Caden was aware of on the scene of the accident. What Caden most remembered about the man was the kindness of his voice, the reassurances he kept offering, the way he explained everything that was happening even though Caden hadn’t really been capable of following it. The man’s words had helped ground Caden after a long night of not knowing what was real, and Caden had always been convinced that David Talbot was the only thing that had kept him from going insane. And staying there.
Holy shit, why hadn’t Caden thought of Talbot before? Would the guy even be around? Maybe it was a long shot after fourteen years, but Caden’s gut said there was something to this idea. It certainly couldn’t hurt.
A quick search on his smart phone revealed that Talbot’s firehouse in Pittsville was only a few minutes away. Caden made his way there not knowing what to expect, or whether he should expect anything at all.
The Pittsville Volunteer Fire Department was a two-building complex with the main firehouse having five bay doors, all of which stood open. Yellow and white fire and E.M.S. apparatus occupied each bay, and a line of pick-up trucks filled the lot off to one side. Caden pulled his Jeep in line with the trucks and hopped out.
His pulse kicked up a notch as he approached the firehouse, and his chest filled with an odd pressure borne of anticipation. He stepped into the bay housing a heavy rescue truck and headed in the direction of voices, but something caught his eye. A big number 7 on the side of the truck.
Prickles ran over Caden’s scalp. Pittsville’s fire department was Station 7? The same number as the station he worked in. The same station number he had tattooed on his biceps. What were the fucking chances?
“Can I help you?” came a voice from further inside.
Caden turned to see an older man with a beard and moustache standing by the end of the truck. “Yeah, sorry. My name is Caden Grayson. I’m E.M.S. over in Arlington County, Virginia,” he said, extending a hand to the other man.
“Well, how ‘bout that. Welcome. I’m Bob Wilson,” the man said as they shook. “What brings you over our way?” he asked with a smile. One of the things Caden loved about working in fire and E.M.S.—the community you could find with others in the same line of work.
“Something personal, actually. An accident that happened fourteen years ago.” Anticipation made Caden’s gut feel like he was riding a roller coaster about to crest the highest hill. “Any chance a paramedic named David Talbot is still around?”
“Dave? Hell, yeah. We tried getting rid the guy but he just sticks to us like fleas on a dog.” Bob smiled and winked.
“Shit, really?” Caden said, disbelief at this…good luck washing over him. “I knew it might be a long-shot.”