get.”
“Okay, but be careful. Those men are dangerous.”
Hayscott took his foot from the brake and let the cruiser roll forward. He twisted the spotlight and tried to focus on the motorcycles.
“You know me, Jenny,” Hayscott said. “I’m always careful.”
Hayscott was almost on top of the motorcycles. For a minute he thought he was going to have to get out of the car and go have a look. Then the numbers came into focus.
You got old man’s eyes, he chided himself.
“Okay, I got a plate,” Hayscott stated. “And it’s from North Carolina.” He wasn’t happy about that. On the other hand, maybe a group of hunters was out deer hunting or running coon dogs. Just because the plates were from North Carolina didn’t mean that the motorcycles belonged to Purple Royals.
“Let me have the plate number,” Jenny said.
Hayscott started to read the numbers and letters off, but he noted movement on his left side. He swiveled his head around and stared down the length of a silencer-equipped pistol.
“Sorry, bro,” a deep voice said. “You picked the wrong night to come down the wrong road.”
Hayscott started to reach for his handgun; then white light belched from the muzzle of the offending weapon. Heat hammered his head and he suddenly couldn’t sit upright anymore. He started falling forward, but he never felt himself hit the steering wheel.
›› Maude’s Truck Stop amp; All-Nite Diner
›› Outside Fort Davis, Texas
›› 2127 Hours (Central Time Zone)
Shel sat in the SUV outside the diner. He’d started talking to Don along the way. Despite his best efforts, Shel hadn’t been able to wait. He’d finished up about the time they’d pulled into the parking lot.
Three 18-wheelers, two sheriff’s cruisers, and a handful of through traffic parked there. He stared at the bright light of the diner. For a moment, Shel resented how the lives of the people inside the diner hadn’t been affected by the events of the evening. They ate and talked, and he felt like he’d been turned inside out.
“Do you know if there was a murder committed over there?” Don asked finally. “Do you know who Daddy was supposed to have killed?”
“No.”
“That was forty years ago. I know there’s no statute of limitations on a murder, but you’d have to have a body first, wouldn’t you?”
Shel looked at Don. “This isn’t about prosecuting Daddy.”
“You said Victor Gant threatened to tell everybody.”
“So what? The likelihood of finding that body-or a witness who could be trusted-is small.”
“Then Daddy is going to be all right.” Don sounded relieved. “Daddy will-”
“Go straight to hell for murder?” Shel asked.
Don looked at him.
“We’re stuck,” Shel said. “Me and you. I need to tell the military. And you gotta work this out with God. Both of us are where we never wanted to be over a man neither of us feels like he knows. You can’t hide this from God any more than I can hide it from the military.”
Don seemed overcome for just a moment. He stared at the large diner windows. “How can we help Daddy?”
“Would you listen to yourself? This isn’t something we can fix. Even if I didn’t say a word, do you think you can square this up with God and make it good in his book?”
Silence filled the SUV’s interior for a moment. Then Max stood and put his head on Shel’s shoulder.
“Is that what you’re worried about?” Don asked, turning to look at Shel. “What God’s going to think about all this?”
Shel felt suddenly uncomfortable. He didn’t like talking about God. He never had. God had always been Don’s thing.
But his daddy’s damnation was what he was worried about the most. That surprised him. In the end, he supposed that was why he’d gone to Don’s instead of just leaving town. Shel knew he didn’t have any answers, and he was pretty sure the military didn’t have anything he wanted to hear.
That left only Don.
“I’m going to be sick,” Don said quietly.
“No,” Shel said. “You’re not.”
But Don was. He turned suddenly and opened the door. He’d barely cleared it when he started heaving.
43
›› Maude’s Truck Stop amp; All-Nite Diner
›› Outside Fort Davis, Texas
›› 2131 Hours (Central Time Zone)
Shel reached across and put his hand on his brother’s back, just letting him know he was there. He wasn’t feeling very good himself.
After a minute, Don’s sickness passed. He flopped weakly back into the seat. Shel handed Don a disposable towelette from the kit he carried to deal with Max.
Don took it and wiped his mouth. “Thanks.”
“You okay?”
“No.” Don took in a deep breath and let it out. He looked at Shel. “Did Daddy say he… he… that he did what you think he did?”
“No.”
“Then maybe he didn’t. Maybe this is all just a-”
“He did it, Don,” Shel stated. “I saw it in his face right before he hit me. I’ve seen guilty men before. And Daddy’s guilty.” Now that he’d seen that in his daddy’s face, he realized he’d been staring at it his whole life. But he’d never recognized it before now.
The silence in the SUV stretched out lean and hard. Shel didn’t know what to say. He knew he’d thought everything that must have been on Don’s mind. He just had to wait till Don caught up with him. Then they could talk about what they were going to do.
What you’re going to do, Shel told himself. You’re not hanging this on Don. You’re just letting him know what’s going down before you do it. And you know what you have to do. Somebody out there, somewhere, deserves to know what happened to their son or husband or father. There are too many who didn’t come back from that war. Even one more is going to make a difference.
“Can you imagine what that must be like?” Don asked. “Living with a secret like that for over forty years?”
“I can’t,” Shel said. “Mostly I can’t because I’d never do what Daddy did.”
“You’ve killed people, Shel.”
Shel didn’t respond. He had killed people. There was no reason to contest it or point out that every time he’d ended a life it had been to save another that was hanging in the balance.
“Did you ask God’s forgiveness for those deaths?” Don asked.
“No. Taking those lives in those situations was what I was trained to do.”
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t seek God’s forgiveness.”
“I figured God forgave me when he kept me from getting killed,” Shel said.
Displeasure tightened Don’s face. “This isn’t something you should take so lightly. You should always-”
“Don,” Shel interrupted gently but firmly, “this is about Daddy. Not about me. Save your sermon for Sunday.”
Don breathed in and out. “I know. You’re right. The first thing we need to do is talk to Daddy.”
Shel touched his bruised face. “Trust me when I say he’s not exactly in a talkative mood over this particular
