Two hours later, a frantic phone call from Mackenzie rocked his world.
“Aaron’sdead, he was ... shot in the head, behind a fast-food drive-through.”
It appeared he’d gone to buy drugs and something had spooked the dealer. The police almost apprehended the suspect, but he was killed running in front of a delivery truck as he fled.
“Aaron was your best friend. Did you know something was wrong?”
She’d called Gideon weeks prior and flat out told him Aaron wasn’t acting like himself. Gideon had promised to try again to get Aaron to talk. And his soul wondered why he hadn’t pushed harder for answers, why he’d let his friend dance around an explanation. And why had he refused to help Mackenzie later when she’d started her quest for the truth? It was the subject of much tortured prayer.
Gideon’s thoughts zinged back to the present. Mackenzie’s plan to get arrested had worked well. Clearly, she wanted to get to her contact before she was sentenced, probably with the help of her inside source who likely worked at the jail. He marveled at her sheer audacity. Or was it frightening recklessness? Probably both, but she hadn’t counted on the fact that the jail would be evacuated. Maybe it would work in her favor. Give her more unsupervised access to her informant. More likely, it would sink her whole plan as she was escorted to the larger facility.
He realized he’d eaten all the peanuts and still hadn’t moved from the coffee shop lot. What was he waiting for? He reached for the ignition just as the same white truck from earlier rolled by at a glacial pace, the bearded driver not even trying to hide as he stared at Gideon.Flat, muddy eyes, a mustache and beard that flowed together in a snowy mass, a cap with a worn brim tipped back on his head. The intimidation factor was unmistakable. The guy’s look promised punishment if Gideon crossed him.
Gideon stared back, sending his own message as he calmly folded up the empty peanut bag and settled back in the comfortable seat of his beloved Jeep. It had been far too trying a day to be complacent, even if he was inclined toward passivity, which he certainly wasn’t. He blazed a look at Hairy to eliminate the possibility of any misunderstanding.
Whoever you are, whatever you’re doing, is immaterial to me. I’m not moving until I’mgood and ready.
No flinching on Hairy’s part, only the hint of a cruel smile. Message received. They’d come to an understanding. The guy moved on.
Gideon tracked the truck’s progress along the street, which was covered with an inch or so of water. Mackenzie. The stranger in the truck. The prison van. The situation was a nebulous pool of unknowns, but three facts floated to the top.
Hairy was a problem.
Mackenzie was up to her neck in trouble.
And something bad was going to happen. Soon.
Not his concern. He was only a means to an end for her, clearly. She’d used him to get what she wanted. She was like that. His ridiculous attraction aside, they weren’t friends anymore. Maybe they never had been. Their connection was Aaron, and he was dead and gone.
Gideon’s goal remained unchanged. He owed his parentsmore than he could ever repay, but he intended to try his best.
There was nothing he could do about today’s failed wilderness class but redouble his efforts on the next one. Host classes when the farm duties were lighter. Do whatever was needed during the in-between times to support. A clear plan, the kind he liked most.
Rain slapped at his windshield, and that wasn’t about to improve either. He’d been tracking the weather for a week now. The storm was growing. Widespread flooding was expected in the next few days, which was why he’d intended to have his class finished and be on his way by now.
Possible dam failure added to the mix too.
No good reason to stay in town, just like the cop had said.Go on home and let nature take its course.
He watched the truck vanish around the corner on the road to the bridge, the same direction the prison van had taken fifteen minutes prior at a much slower speed. His drumbeat of anxiety would not be quieted. He thought of the question Aaron used to put to him.
“Why do you clutter up your life with worry?”
Worry was a useless feeling that didn’t help anyone. Preparedness, on the other hand, could save lives. And that was what he was trained to do.
A little intelligence gathering wouldn’t hurt. He’d detour around the bridge, wait on the other side, relay any useful information to the cops in the unlikely event he collected any. Observe and report only. If his instincts were wrong, no one needed to know.
If they weren’t ... He let the thought die away as he turned on the engine and took off.
****
Just tell me his real name.
Mackenzie was bursting with impatience, but she kept quiet and still so as not to yank her cuffed wrists. She wanted to convince Lorraine of her motives. Her work wasn’t just for Aaron but for the families of all addicts who could not shake their loved ones loose. Agonized mothers who’d left comments on her podcast about their beautiful children who were now cadaverous slaves to their next fix. Parents who were waiting in a perpetual purgatory for the phone call that would inform them their son or daughter had lost the battle. And also for children in schools who were encouraged and groomed for addiction, preyed upon by those who made them believe drugs were the answer.
But most of all it was for her parents, who lost their will and joy and zest for life the moment Aaron was murdered. They carried on in body but not in spirit.
That had died with Aaron.
