The Truth We Bury: A Novel

“It’s fine, honey. Just rest,” Lily repeated. What happened? Who did this to you? How did you get here? She was desperate to ask, but no more desperate than to hear the sound of her dad returning with the ambulance.

When it finally came, she worried how the paramedics would get AJ down from the fort, but she needn’t have. They’d come equipped with nylon ropes and a lightweight rescue basket. She waited with her dad near the open doors of the ambulance, watching as they lowered AJ as gently as possible to the ground. He was unconscious for the most part and only groaned when they transferred him from the basket to the gurney inside the ambulance.

“Is he going to be all right?” Lily asked one of the paramedics, the only woman among the crew of three. Jeannette, her name tag read.

“He’s getting oxygen now, and we started an IV, saline. We’re giving him morphine for the pain. He’s shocky, so we’ll be watching his vitals.” Jeannette rattled off the information. “He’s lost a lot of blood. Looks like the bullet missed his femoral, though, and that’s a good thing.”

The three of them turned to look when a Wyatt police patrol car bumped toward them, across the meadow. Clint Mackie was driving. Lily’s heart sank.

“I’ll handle him,” her dad said, but Mackie avoided them, going to another of the paramedics, an older guy. The way the two men greeted each other, Lily thought they must be friends. Maybe Clint Mackie was a better friend to the paramedic than he was to her dad.

“Captain Mackie is probably asking for a rundown of your son’s injuries. It would be routine, given the circumstances.” Jeanette spoke gently.

Lily wondered how much she knew about the circumstances. What if she, or the other medical personnel—doctors, nurses—believed AJ was a criminal, a murderer? Would they still treat him? “Could I ride in the ambulance with AJ?” she asked Jeanette.

The paramedic shook her head. “It’s against policy,” she said.

Who knew if that was true?

Moments after the ambulance left, Mackie appeared at Lily’s elbow. “You want to ride with me, I’ll run you to the hospital.”

Lily looked at her dad, unsure if she wanted to ride with the police captain.

“Go on,” her dad said. “I’ll take the horses back and be along in two shakes.”

“I’m not answering any questions.” Lily addressed the captain. “I don’t know anything. AJ was barely conscious.”

“That’s fine.” Captain Mackie opened the front passenger door of the squad car for Lily. “I’ll be questioning him myself as soon as he comes around. I expect a couple of detectives from Dallas will be down here pretty quick to question him, too.”



Lily called Paul from the hospital, and he was headed to his car before they hung up.

“I should be there by seven,” he said. “Call me if anything changes.”

Lily said she would.

“God, it’s a miracle, isn’t it?” There was the sound of the car door slamming, the garage door going up. “I was scared we’d never find him.”

“I know,” Lily said.

“Tell him not to go anywhere, okay?” Paul’s voice was thick with emotion, but Lily heard the smile in it.

She smiled, too, as if he could see her. “I’ll tell him,” she said.

Unlike Paul, Shea went completely silent when Lily called to say AJ had been found. Lily had to prompt her. “Shea? Are you there?”

“Yes. I’m just—I didn’t give up hope, you know, but—” She broke off, and Lily sensed she was fighting for composure, steeling herself. “Is he all right?”

“He’s been shot, Shea, but he’s receiving treatment right now.” Lily spoke quickly, relating the rest of what she knew. “His ankle is injured, too. Dad and I found him at the old fort. He tried getting down the ladder and fell.”

“But he’s going to be okay, right? Please—”

“He’s lost a lot of blood, he’s dehydrated, and he’s in shock, but he was able to talk to me—”

Shea interrupted. “Who shot him? Was it Harlan?”

Lily said she didn’t know.

“We were on our way there the other day we came to search, your dad and me and Erik. If only we’d—but how did he get there? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know.” Lily had been thinking about it, all the ways nothing added up. “It’s for sure it wasn’t under his own power,” she said.

“At least now the police will know he wasn’t anywhere near Cedar Ridge Canyon this morning. Someone is trying to frame him.”

“But who? Harlan?”

Shea didn’t answer. Lily heard voices, people talking in the background, wherever she was. “Shea?” she prompted.

“Mom and I had a bit of trouble a while ago. Someone—a guy in a pickup ran us off the road.”

“What?” Lily stopped her pacing in front of the entrance to the ER.

“Mom thinks someone followed us from Kate’s house. We’d gone there to—to pay our respects, and he followed us from there. We don’t know who it was. He was wearing a hat pulled low, so we couldn’t see his face. He kept inching up on us, and when we turned in to our subdivision, he rear-ended us, then he came up alongside and broadsided us. Mom was driving my car, my Camry, and he pushed it right off the road. It was scary.”

“You called the police?”

“Yes, Ken Carter is here.”

“Shea, did you know that a few days before Becca was killed, she and Kate were involved in a traffic altercation, and a man threatened them?”

“Here? In Wyatt?”

“No, in Dallas. But the man drove a pickup. He ran them off the road.”

“Are you kidding?” Asking Lily to hold on, Shea repeated what Lily had told her to Dru.

In the rumble of conversation, Lily recognized the lower timbre of a man’s voice. Ken Carter, she thought, the officer who was there; he was listening, too.

A moment later Shea was back. “You won’t believe this, but Sergeant Carter is saying he saw a report about it.” She sounded incredulous, alarmed and angry all at once. Lily had the sense she was struggling to hold on to her temper. “I told him AJ’s at Wyatt Regional, and he knew that, too. He knew and never said a word to me. I don’t think any of these cops have a clue what’s going on.”

“No, I agree, but Shea, none of us does. Be careful, okay?” Lily cautioned. “Whoever is behind this, they’re still out there.”



She was alone in the ER waiting room across from triage when the doctor, Kelvin Dermott, found her a bit later.

Lily stood up, feeling a wave of relief. “I was hoping you were here,” she said. “You’re taking care of AJ? How is he?”

Kelvin took her hands, looking grave. They were friends, having gone through public school together. “I’m not going to lie,” he said. “AJ is not in great shape. He’s on his way to surgery now to remove the bullet and repair the damage. Jim Matthews is operating. Do you know him?”

Lily shook her head.

“He’s a good man—”

“Kelvin?”

Lily glanced over her shoulder at her dad as he joined them.

The men shook hands. Kelvin repeated what he’d told Lily. Her dad asked about AJ’s ankle.

“It’s badly sprained, but it should heal fine,” Kelvin said. “The leg wound, too, should be all right, barring complications.”

Barbara Taylor Sissel's books