The Truth We Bury: A Novel

“Thank God,” Lily said.

“It’s a good thing you found him when you did,” Kelvin said. “Given the blood loss, the risk of infection—he’s not out of the woods, but if he’d been left out there any longer, his chances would be much worse. Or if the shooter’s aim had been any better, if they’d hit the femoral—”

“Yeah. Well, maybe they missed on purpose.”

“What do you mean, Dad?”

“When it comes to shooting someone—another human being—you can lose your nerve. The situation—the way this looks with AJ—I don’t know.” He thought about it. “It just seems off somehow.”

“Clint is sure hot to question him,” Kelvin said.

“Can you keep him from it?” Lily asked.

“I already told him there wasn’t going to be an interrogation without clearance from me or one of the other attendings, and he told me that along with him, I can expect to get pressure from the Dallas PD. They’ve got a couple of detectives on the way.”

“Paul is on his way from there, too,” Lily said.

“What about Shea and her mom? You called them?” her dad asked.

Before she could answer, Kelvin excused himself, saying he’d keep them advised.

Lily followed Kelvin’s progress until he disappeared, then, turning to her dad, she explained what Shea had told her about the incident with the pickup truck. “It’s like what happened to Becca and Kate,” she said.

“Yeah. Too damn similar to be a coincidence. Shea and her mom are lucky.” Her dad wiped his hand over his head. “I guess the one good thing is no one can pin it on AJ.”

Lily’s relief felt oddly deflating.

Her dad wrapped her in his embrace. “We found him, Sissy,” he said. “We got to him in time. That’s all that matters, all that matters right now.”





18


Can you tell me about AJ Isley?” Shea had asked the same question of two other nurses, one in the emergency room and another on the surgical floor, without success.

Dru could feel her anxiety coming off her like sparks.

“Are you a relative?” the recovery-room nurse—Kelsey, according to her name tag—asked.

“Almost. He’s my fiancé.”

Kelsey’s smile was sudden and warm, an unexpected gift. “Shea, right? He couldn’t stop talking about you. Some people do that under anesthesia. They talk and talk. He described you to a tee.” She was inspecting Shea’s neck, the rose tattoo.

Dru waited to see her disapproval; instead, Kelsey said she loved it. “AJ talked about another tattoo, a lotus blossom? Here, right?” The nurse indicated an area of her abdomen between her belly button and the jut of her hip bone. “He has one, too, same place. Very pretty.”

Dru was astonished. She looked at Shea. Matching tattoos? Really? But her dismay dissolved when Shea laughed, a small, half-strangled sound, then covered her mouth. Dru took her hand.

“He’s all right, then?” Shea asked Kelsey.

“Well, you need to speak to Dr. Matthews,” the nurse said, “but between you and me, your fiancé is looking real good.” She winked, making Dru want to roll her eyes. “They got the slug out of his leg and stopped the bleeding. He’s on IVs for pain and hydration, but overall he’s hanging in there. He’s one lucky guy that his mom and granddad found him when they did.”

Shea thanked the nurse, squeezing her arm.

Dru thought Shea would hug Kelsey next, but instead she flung herself into Dru’s embrace. “Did you hear? Oh, Mom!” Pulling away, almost staggering in her happiness, Shea addressed the nurse again. “Can I see him?”

“He’ll be in recovery a bit longer, but he’s been assigned a room.” She looked at the chart she was carrying. “Third floor, room 302. He should be along within the hour. His mom and granddad are already up there, I think.”

“Thank you, thank you so much again.” Shea was trembling in her jubilance. “It’s a miracle, isn’t it? The one I was praying for.”

Dru didn’t have the heart to caution her, to say it might be too soon for celebration.



Of course room 302 was private. The Axels and the Isleys were that sort; they had that kind of money. Must be nice. That’s what Dru was thinking as she crossed the threshold. And then she felt small. What good was her envy of them? She assumed because they were rich, their lives were easy, but their wealth hadn’t protected them from fear and heartbreak, had it? Lily’s son had been shot. Kate and Becca were dead. Dru and Shea had been run off the road. The threat was real.

Ongoing.

And it wasn’t AJ.

Dru was still grappling with that fact. It was awful, but she’d been so sure—and even though she was relieved to be proven wrong on that score, she was still certain that AJ had issues. Maybe he wasn’t the monster behind the awful violence, but she would be willing to bet that it was related to him, to something he’d done. She didn’t know what, and she wouldn’t say it aloud, but neither could she shake the conviction that he was involved.

Lily was telling Shea how lucky AJ was. “The bullet did some tissue damage but missed the bones and major arteries.”

Dru glanced at Jeb. She’d noticed him, leaning against the wall opposite the door, but she hadn’t acknowledged him. They only exchanged a frosty glance now. Her greeting of Lily was similarly cool. They didn’t share an embrace the way Lily and Shea had. Dru had all but come out and accused AJ—Jeb and Lily’s boy—of heinous crimes. She could defend herself, remind them of the evidence. Say she wasn’t alone, that the police—in two different departments, no less—had believed AJ was responsible, too, that it had seemed reasonable, doubting his innocence. But it wouldn’t be the apology they were, in all likelihood, looking for. If Lily and Jeb had accused Shea in a similar fashion, that’s what Dru would want—amends, an acknowledgment of their error. She’d want them on their knees. But Dru couldn’t bring herself to go there for them.

“Folks?” An orderly appeared in the doorway. “We’re bringing in your guy. He’s still kind of out of it, so go easy on him, okay?” He grinned.

The four of them, Dru, Jeb, Shea, and Lily, moved out of the way to the far windowed wall. The sense of anticipation was electric; a loose bolt of lightning couldn’t have felt more volatile. AJ was wheeled in headfirst. Shea started toward him.

“Let us get him comfortable,” the nurse said to her.

Shea nodded; she was trembling, though, and Dru sensed her agony at having to wait yet one more minute.

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