Burnt River Read Online Free Page A

land?”
    “He did at one time. I’m not sure what he believes now. His manifesto was subject to change.”
    “Could he have been the person who called you?”
    “It wasn’t him.”
    “You seem very sure.”
    “That’s because I am. I’ve known Ethan all my life.”
    “Is it possible that John came into contact with him?”
    “My kids knew to stay clear. There’s no way they’d have gone anywhere near him.”
    “This friction between you and Green. Do you think it could have become violent?”
    “Our argument dates back to before my children were born. I doubt either of us gives it much thought these days.”
    “This is going to be difficult for your family, but we’ll need to interview each of them, and anyone your son John worked with. He may have confided in someone.”
    Jeremy stumbled over his words. “I have to get home. I have no idea how I’m going to tell them…”
    He pressed the base of his palms into his eyes and wept. Macy was the only one who didn’t look away. This man had lost his only son. She fought hard not to imagine how that must feel. Her son Luke seemed so far away. She had the sudden urge to escape the diner and drive straight home. She had no idea how she could protect him if she was never there. Macy handed Jeremy a tissue from a box someone had placed on the table, and signaled Wade Larkin to come over.
    “Mr. Dalton, a couple of officers are going to escort you home. There’s a victims support officer here from Helena. Her name is Sue Barnet, and she is going to make sure you have everything you need. I’ve left you my business card. You should feel free to call me any time. There might be something you remember. It may not seem important, but I want you to tell me anyway.”
    Macy gathered her bag and slipped the thick strap over her shoulder. “I’ll come out to see you and your family this afternoon. Mr. Dalton, it’s important that I speak to anyone who was close to John.”
    He picked up her card and slipped it into his shirt pocket before pushing his chair away from the table. His legs buckled as he rose from his seat, but Wade was there to catch him. In the silence that followed, the cell phone that had been sitting on the table next to him rang.

 
    3
    Jessie Dalton rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and rolled over to check the time. It was a little after six in the morning and the bedroom was still dark. She fell back on the pillows and stared at the low ceiling. She’d spent most of the night making lists in her head and now she’d be too tired to get anything done. She put her hand on her chest. Her heart was still beating. At times she felt it was all she had to remind her that she was alive. A floorboard creaked and she sat up.
    “Who’s there?”
    Her mother, Annie, passed through the narrow strip of light cutting through the gap in the curtains. She wore a flowered dressing gown and her long gray hair swayed like a skirt from a perfect parting. She clutched one of her hands to her throat.
    “Did I wake you?”
    Jessie watched her mother, trying to judge her mood. Not that it mattered. Annie’s temperament was difficult to pin down. Like a stray bullet, its direction could shift in unexpected ways.
    Annie sat on the edge of Jessie’s bed and poked at the thin quilt with her index finger, making patterns in the folds. Her words landed in perfect time with her finger. “Your. Brother. John. Is. Dead.”
    Jessie waited for the flustered explanations that usually followed her mother’s more outrageous statements, but they didn’t come. Jessie spoke to her mother the same way she spoke to her daughter—a lift at the end of each line and a smile on her face, even when she wanted to cry.
    “John is home from Afghanistan now. You don’t have to worry anymore.”
    Annie held up her cell phone. Her nails were shredded and her knuckles were swollen like ripened fruit ready to split. She brought the screen within inches of her eyes and scrunched up her