The hair on the back of Ray’s neck prickled. Even from where he was standing, he could tell something was horribly wrong. “Tom?” he called out, his voice trailing off as he made his way across the floor. He fell on his knees next to his brother, gasping at the ashen hue to his features. Tom’s eyes were closed, but not in the restful pose of sleep. His head was pillowed in a pool of congealed blood. Ray stretched out a trembling hand and touched his forehead, confirming what he knew in his heart.
Tom was dead!
Sinking back on his haunches, Ray dragged his fingers through his hair and let out a guttural scream. His heart was galloping in his chest, his brain racing to catch up with the hard fact staring him in the face—he had killed his brother! Not only that, but he had abducted his child afterward. There was no possibility of talking his way out of this in any court of law. No one would believe his version of events. And even if they did, he would still be found guilty of manslaughter. There was only one place he was going to end up when he got down off this mountain, and that was behind bars. He pressed his fingertips to his temples, desperately trying to untangle his thoughts, almost jumping out of his skin at a sudden knock on the door.
”Tom, you in here?” a familiar voice called out.
Ray scrambled to his feet and spun around as the door swung open. ”Buck! I … “ He broke off, struck dumb by the flinty expression on the man’s face. He watched with mounting dread as Buck strode over to him, his rifle slung over one shoulder. Lips set in a grim line, he eyed Tom’s body stretched out on the floor. After a long moment of silence, he turned to Ray. ”You did this.”
It was more of a statement than a question, but his tone demanded an explanation.
“It … was an accident. We were arguing, and … Tom took a swing at me, so I punched him.” Ray swallowed the thickening knot in his throat before continuing, ”He tripped and fell backward, and he … he hit his head on the bench. It knocked the wind out of him, but I thought he was all right. He groaned and went to sit up. I was afraid he might go for his gun—he’d threatened me with it earlier—so I took off … with Henry.”
Buck narrowed his eyes at him.
“You … knew he had a son, right?” Ray said.
Buck rubbed a hand over his jaw. ”Yeah.” He frowned. “Where’s the kid at?”
Ray wet his lips, trying to buy himself some time to think. He couldn’t bring himself to admit to leaving Henry in the truck. He could be prosecuted for leaving a four-year-old alone. Not that it was any worse than the trouble he was already in. ”He’s … with a friend.”
Ray shifted uncomfortably as Buck’s unswerving gaze bored into him. “Look, I didn’t come here intending to kill Tom, or even fight with him, for that matter. We got into an argument over Henry. He’s been badly neglected. I told Tom it was child abuse to keep him out here without access to education or healthcare. I threatened to report him to the authorities. That’s when he lost it and tried to clock me. I reacted instinctively. You have to believe me; this was a horrible accident.”
Buck shifted his weight to his back leg, staring down at Tom’s body with a pensive look. He tugged on his beard thoughtfully. ”I don’t doubt things went down like you said. I know what a hothead Tom could be.”
Ray let out a heavy sigh. ”Thank you. I know it’s a huge ask, but if you could just tell the police what you told me—about Tom being a hothead—it might help my case.”
Buck mumbled something incoherent and began pacing back-and-forth across the floor. “I’m not going to tell them anything.”
“What? Aren’t you going to turn me in?”
Buck threw him a cutting glance. “Mountain folks handle their own affairs.”
“So what do I do now?” Ray asked, his voice tapering off into a quiver.
“The only thing you can do,” Buck replied, a stoic expression on his face. “Bury the body, and keep your mouth shut.”
Ray gawked at him. “But someone’s bound to report him missing.”
Buck grunted in disdain. “You disappear in these parts, folks reckon you either got taken out by a bear, or you disappeared because you wanted to.”
Ray silently digested Buck’s words. What he said might hold true in this isolated neck of the woods, but, in the real world, it was a crime to dispose of a body improperly, especially someone you had murdered.
Buck reached for a coil of rope hanging on a hook by the door, then walked over to the storage bench and pulled out a blanket. “Best get to it. No sense delaying what needs to be done.”
Ray gulped, his legs trembling beneath him at the thought of putting Tom’s body in the ground. Could he really do this? If it weren’t for Buck, he would head straight back to his truck and turn himself in at the nearest police station. “Why are you helping me?” He choked out.
Buck tossed the blanket and rope next to Tom’s body and pressed his lips tightly together. ”I’m going to help you under one condition. You take Tom’s kid and you raise that boy as your own. He’s your blood—he’s your responsibility now.”
Ray stared at Buck, jaw askew, as the weight of his words sank in. Was he serious? How would he ever be able to look Henry in the eyes and lie to him about what had happened to his father? Besides, he wasn’t ready to be a father himself—he might never
