Paradise Valley (Highway Quartet #4)

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone to sleep without a shower. Her skin felt gritty and her hair greasy. She could smell her own breath inside the bag.

She thought of Ben, of Kyle, of Pergram. She made herself think of Ian but it didn’t seem sincere and she wondered if she was a cold woman like some of her colleagues had whispered.

*

THEN SHE HEARD IT.

A distant, thundering BOOM.

She sat up without unzipping her bag.

“What in the hell was that?” Bull asked from somewhere on the other side of the dying fire.

“I heard it,” Pompy said.

“Bigger than a gunshot,” Thomsen added. “Much bigger.”

They all were quiet, waiting for what came next. But the only sound was the echo of the singular explosion that moved through the timber like rolling thunder.

“Maybe we ought to get going sooner than we planned,” Pederson said. “Like now.”





CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

RONALD PERGRAM’S EYES SHOT open at the sound of the explosion. He threw off his quilts and swung his feet out to the floor.

“What was that?” Amanda asked from the dark in the other room. “Ron, what was that sound? Ron, I thought I heard a—”

“Hush,” he whispered harshly.

He heard her make a squeaking sound. That’s what she did when she forced herself to pinch off a torrent of babble. The woman talked like she didn’t even know she was talking. She talked the way men breathed: unconsciously. He’d punished her for it with a vibration warning half a dozen times and several times with a shock. It had helped somewhat, except now when he told her to shut up she ended it with a squeak.

Kyle, bless him, knew to be quiet. If anything, Ron wished that boy would say more.

His knees ached and his back popped as he stood up. He pulled on socks, a pair of jeans, an undershirt, and a sweatshirt. He listened for another explosion to come but it didn’t.

Amanda remained quiet although he knew it must be killing her.

Ron pulled on his trucker boots and clomped out of his small bedroom to the main room. Kyle was up, all right, and already dressed. He was riffling through the coats hanging on pegs near the door for the parka Ron had given him.

“Where do you think you’re going, Kyle?”

The boy stopped and slowly turned around.

“You stay here.”

Kyle looked down at his feet. He was obviously disappointed.

Ron watched the boy slink back to his single bed and sit down heavily on it. He felt something tug in his chest, something he had rarely experienced in his life: pride in the act of someone other than himself. That Kyle would wrongly assume he was going along to check out the explosion with him filled Ron with unexpected pride.

“Can I ask what we just heard?” Amanda asked in a low tone. She was so meek, Ron thought.

“You heard a shitload of C-4 being detonated,” Ron said as he reached for his coat and watch cap from the pegs. “I’m going to find out what set it off. Could be an elk or a bear, I guess. Or it could have been someone coming up here to find us.”

“Oh my,” Amanda said.

“I doubt there’s much of them left, whatever it was,” Ron said while he seated a round into the chamber of his .380 and jammed the pistol into the back of his waistband.

Without another word he returned to his bedroom and located a headlamp in his “Oh Shit” box to take along. He paused in the main room and looked at Kyle. The boy refused to look back. Obviously, he’d hurt the kid’s feelings.

Ron had no idea how to address it.

So he ignored Kyle and closed the outside door behind him. Then he snapped the padlock closed through the rungs.

It was cold but still. He guessed it was a degree or two above freezing.

He opened the door of the pickup and slid a shotgun out from beneath the front seat. It was a used 20-gauge Mossberg pump he’d bought at a pawn shop in Livingston. It was a dime-a-dozen kind of shotgun but he’d removed the plug from it so it could hold six double-aught shells instead of the three birdshot shells it was used to.

As he stepped back from the door he glanced up to see Kyle’s face in the window over the sink. The boy wanted to see what he was doing out there.

Ron waved to Kyle in the light from the dome light.

Kyle waved back and Ron smiled to himself.

He shut the door and the night was black again. He fitted the headlamp over his watch cap and found the dimmest setting.

Then he followed the bouncing pale orb of light down the old two-track to where he’d heard the explosion.

*

KYLE WATCHED THE SMUDGE of light bob away until it vanished. His insides were in knots and he felt sick to his stomach.

He didn’t realize Ron had a shotgun in the truck. The man kept his secrets well.

Kyle hoped the explosion hadn’t hurt any well-meaning people who had come to rescue them. Had they seen his message in the grocery store restroom? Was that why they were in the mountains? Had he caused their deaths?

He stepped away from the window and closed his eyes and bent over and placed his hands on his knees and breathed deeply.

He thought about the possibility that the people who triggered the explosion were hurt or maimed. Wouldn’t they be likely to tell Ron why they’d come? Wouldn’t Ron make them tell?

From her bed Amanda said, “Well, I guess he thinks that he put you in your place, didn’t he?”

Her tone was spiteful. Kyle didn’t respond.

“You think you’re his special little buddy now, don’t you? But he put you right back in your place.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.

She took a deep breath and said softly, “Be careful around him, Kyle. He seems to like you. He certainly likes you more than he likes me, anyway. But he’s an evil man. Don’t fall for it.”

Kyle said, “I don’t. I thought you were falling for it.”

She wrung her hands and watched them. She said, “I admit there are times when saving myself and making him happy are the only things I think of. I admit that. I don’t think I’d be human if I thought any other way. But I won’t turn on you to save myself. I hope you know that and I hope you won’t do that to me to gain his favor.”

Kyle rose and looked hard at her. They’d been in the same boat for a long time. He wanted to think of her as his friend—as a wise and friendly adult. He wanted to trust her.

He said, “I’d never do that.”

“I’m not gonna tell him you were watching his every move when he went outside,” she said. “If he knew that he wouldn’t be happy about that. He’d expect me to tell him what you’re up to, you know.”

She looked up. There was desperation in her eyes. “Please don’t do anything that I can’t tell him about, okay Kyle? It’s like we talked about a long time ago. Don’t do something that will get either of us hurt.”

Kyle said, “Only you talked about that.”

After a beat, she asked, “So what are you up to?”

*

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