Firebreak (Josie Gray Mysteries #4)(29)

“Dillon, you know that what I want more than anything is for you to be happy and to get your life back again. If it’s too hard to talk to me right now, then I will respect that. You focus on getting better, and someday down the road if you want to talk, you give me a call.”

They ended the conversation and Josie stared at her phone. Was this just part of the healing process? she wondered. There was no rulebook. No one had said, This is how long a person should suffer after a major trauma. These are the steps you should take to help bring that person around: tough love, words of encouragement, silence. What was the right response? She had no idea. The counselor had wanted her to talk about her own feelings, but the experience had felt false, and she’d left feeling worse.

Josie walked back into the bedroom, where she took off her uniform and hung it in the closet. She needed out. She grabbed a pair of running shorts and a T-shirt from her dresser drawer, slipped them on along with a pair of flip-flops, and walked out the back door.

*

Josie and Chester walked behind the house and up the lane to Dell’s. He was the person she went to for advice when the rest of the world made no sense. Josie’s father had been killed in a line-of-duty accident when she was eight, and her mother had stopped being a parent at that point. After an unsuccessful stint at college, Josie had moved to Texas from Indiana, and she’d never looked back. She had virtually no contact with her family. Instead, she had Dell.

Chester loped up from behind and shoved his muzzle up into her hand as she walked, forcing her to pat his head. Josie stopped and kneeled in the dirt to rub his velvet ears and bury her head in his neck. He was an affectionate dog who seemed aware when things were out of sorts in Josie’s life.

She finally stood and took a long breath. At this time of the evening the creosote and sage opened their pores and the extra moisture in the air caused a pungent, tart smell like no other. The sun was slipping below the horizon line now, trailing a swath of purple and orange across the floor of the desert. It was Josie’s favorite time of the day, when life slowed to nothing, no sound but a few crickets and the wind brushing through the scattered cedar and pi?on pine.

She began the quarter-mile walk to Dell’s place, ready to take her mind off Dillon.

As she approached the cabin she saw Dell standing through his sheer living room curtains, most likely ready to settle into his chair with a book for the night. She walked up onto the porch, tapped twice on the door, yelled hello, and stepped inside.

Josie knew immediately that something wasn’t right by the look of shock on Dell’s face. She had entered his home the same way as she had hundreds of times before, with just a quick knock and a yell. As Josie registered his expression she sensed motion and turned to see a woman walking out of Dell’s kitchen carrying two glasses of red wine. The awkward moment was quickly made worse as Chester pushed in behind Josie and rushed the woman, causing her to spill wine down the front of her top and onto the floor.

Josie clapped her hands and yelled for Chester, who was as shocked at the stranger in Dell’s home as Josie was. Dell stood silently watching the two women and the dog fuss around each other.

“I’m so sorry. I’m Josie, Dell’s neighbor. I didn’t realize Dell was having company.” She looked at Dell accusingly, as if irritated that he’d not bothered to tell her of his plans.

“That’s quite all right,” the woman said, setting the glasses on the end table beside the couch. Her eyes were wide and she looked at Dell, who seemed unable to speak. The woman was clearly shocked by Josie’s presence. “I’ll just get some water on this and it will be fine.”

She walked down the hallway into the bathroom and Josie looked at Dell, dumbfounded. She’d lived next to Dell for years, and to her knowledge he had never once invited a woman to his house. And this woman seemed to know her way around Dell’s cabin. Josie realized with a start that he was wearing a new pair of jeans and a button-down shirt that she’d never seen and his cowboy boots were clean. He still said nothing and instead looked down at Chester, who was demanding his attention. He avoided looking at her and Josie realized he was more embarrassed to be caught with this woman in his house than Josie was at barging in.

“I’m sorry. I should have knocked. We’ll get out of your way.” Josie walked toward the door and snapped her fingers for Chester. He lumbered over to her, always ready for a walk outside.

“That’s fine,” Dell said, his tone gruff but, Josie thought, also apologetic. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Josie left with Chester at her heels, hoping to get beyond the door before the woman returned in her wine-stained shirt. Dillon was gone and trying to move on with his life, and she couldn’t accept that. Dell had apparently come out of a thirty-something-year rut, and she wasn’t sure she could accept that. She walked down the lane wondering if the common denominator in her various troubled relationships was her.





TEN

The Marfa airport was located on US-90, about forty-five minutes from her home. When she arrived she found the pilot readying the copter and Doug standing twenty feet away, hands in his pockets, looking anxious to get going. Just a few minutes later the low thump of the rotor started and the pilot beckoned them forward. They boarded, belted into the bench in the back, and adjusted their headsets to allow communication with the pilot.

About five miles into the flight the blackened earth suddenly spread out beneath them like seawater, covering everything in its path. The ash appeared painted with long black brushstrokes. What surprised Josie were the stretches of beige grass dotted with scrub and trees untouched by the fire, tiny island oases in the middle of the ravaged land.