Any Day Now Page 72
“I told her I was seeing a fireman...”
“If there’s a fatality anywhere near my territory, don’t you think I’d know?”
“Well, I don’t know.”
“Rescue Flight was called out, Sierra. Sixty miles from here.”
“Maybe she got the location wrong?”
“I’ll check the logs on the computer. In fact, you can do that. It’s a matter of public record and the Colorado State Patrol can confirm. What do you know about it?”
“Seventeen-year-old boy driving, his first name was Brandon, the car was supposedly hit by a truck, he lay critical in a hospital in Denver for two weeks before he passed away. A few weeks ago. And she said it happened on 24. Is that a highway?”
“Yep, the one most of us take to Denver. Come on in, have a water or soda or something. I’ll look it up. It won’t take two minutes.”
“I’ll just wait,” she said. “I’m going to go pick up my clothes and get organized so I can be ready to go in the early morning.”
“But I’ll see you tonight?”
“Of course.”
Rafe came out to the front of the firehouse after Connie left and said hi. “Connie said he’s looking up something for you. How you doing?”
“Great. And how are Lisa and the kids?”
“Excellent. Grandma’s coming for a visit before summer’s over. They’ll shop for school clothes, she loves to do that. My mom likes to get in on some of that, too. I’ll probably take ’em all out on the lake a few times.”
They made small talk for a few minutes before Connie was back. “Will you give us a minute, Rafe?” Connie asked.
“Sure. See you later, Sierra.”
“Nothing, ” Connie said.
“Maybe it was farther away than she thought?”
He shook his head. “Statewide, no fatal involving a seventeen-year-old boy.”
“What if she had his age wrong?”
“There were forty fatalities in the whole month and one sixteen-year-old boy died. In Pueblo. No seventeen-year-olds. That’s as close as it came. And there’s no obit for a boy named Brandon.”
“Maybe I didn’t get the details right,” Sierra said, completely confused.
“She made it up, honey.”
“Why would she do that?” Sierra said.
“Who knows why people make up wild stories. For attention? To get out of something they don’t want to do? Some people just can’t help it—they’d make up a lie when the truth is more interesting. I don’t know about you but when someone flat-out lies to me, I don’t trust them anymore.”
“I just don’t get it,” she said.
“That’s the woman you really wanted to be friends with, right? The one who let you down. The one who doesn’t like animals?”
“Yep.”
“Hmm. My advice? Back away slowly.”
He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.
—Friedrich Nietzsche
Chapter 16
SIERRA AND CAL left for Denver to catch a plane early in the morning on Sunday. She left from Connie’s house. A couple of hours after she left Connie decided, it being Sunday, he’d drive to Denver, too. But he was going to see his mother. He called her to let her know he’d be driving up from Timberlake. When he got there, he and Molly went to the door. Janie Chambers opened the front door and beamed.
“Well, now, who is this?” she asked, bending to pet Molly.
“Her name is Molly,” he said. “I’m dog sitting for a friend.”
“She’s beautiful. She’s very excited.”
“It was a longer drive than she’s used to, I think.”
Only then did Janie hug her son. “It’s been a while. I made us lunch. I’m sorry but Beaner said he couldn’t come over. He had some plans he didn’t think he should cancel. Just between you and me, I bet he’s going to be out on the lake with friends.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “I wasn’t staging a family reunion or anything. I’ll catch up with him. But he’s okay?”
“He’s great, Connie. He’s so busy with work and school and friends that I hardly see him anymore. This house is just a stopping-off place for him. But come in the kitchen and tell me what you’ve been doing. Does your friend need a bowl of water?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Janie set down a bowl of water and Molly went after it greedily.
“Now she’s going to want to go out,” Connie said. “What’s up with work?” he politely asked while she fixed them a couple of drinks. She had coffee and got Connie a large cola.
Janie told him about some of the cases she was working on. She was an insurance adjuster; she surveyed accidents and other damage to try to put together estimates for their clients. Then she asked him about work and he told her about a few of their recent emergencies, fortunately all came out all right.
“Isn’t it funny the way we both ended up in professions that deal with accidents?” she asked. “Want to go ahead and tell me what’s on your mind?” she asked.
“There’s nothing specific,” he said. “The friend whose dog this is. It’s a girl. A woman.”