Page 26 of Hold Your Breath
“October through January, I think.” She drew a bracket below the timeline in red, writing “October 1” on the left side of the bracket and “January 31” on the other. Along the bottom of the bracket, she wrote “HDG Dumped in Mission Reservoir” and added out loud, “Although Chris mentioned checking disappearances as early as August.” She smudged out “October” with her finger and wrote “August” instead.
Clearing his throat, Callum said, “There’s an eraser next to the markers.” When she just looked at him, he changed the subject. “It was a fairly warm fall. I can’t imagine the body would’ve stayed submerged so long if it were in the reservoir in August.”
She shrugged. “True, but better to make the box too big than too small, right?” When he agreed, she kept the first of August as the initial date on her bracket. “Is that all we have so far for the timeline?”
“What about the amputation of his toes?”
“Yes!” Using a purple marker, she created another bracket. Labeling it “HDG: Two Toes Amputated,” she put the initial date as April and the final date as December. “Think that’s a wide enough spread? Belly mentioned it was probably done a few months before he died.”
Callum said, “I think that’s good. We already know that he was most likely killed closer to October than August, so there’s plenty of cushion in there if Belly was off in her estimation.”
“Okay, so let’s list what we know about our HDG.” She grabbed the blue marker and wrote as she talked. “Male, Caucasian, gray hair, approximately sixty-five years old, five-ten, one hundred and fifty pounds, U.S. Army tattoo on his chest, old shrapnel scars on his back, two toes amputated from his right foot, diabetic. Anything else?”
“Bel thought he’d been in Vietnam, but that was an educated guess, based on his age and the age of the scarring.”
“I think we should include it.” Lou put it on the board, although she added a question mark behind it.
“There’s the obvious, too.” When Lou just looked at him, he elaborated, “The missing hands and head.”
“Right!” She scribbled that down as well. Gazing at the spotless two-thirds of the whiteboard, she asked longingly, “Can we write out just a few theories on that side?”
“Nope. Only the facts, ma’am.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “Throw some more facts at me, then.”
By the time they’d wrapped things up for the night, there was still a tempting amount of empty space on the whiteboard. With great self-restraint, Lou capped her marker and handed it to Callum, who put it with the others in perfect spectrum order.
“Hopefully, we’ll have more to add after our field trip tomorrow,” she said, before glancing at her watch. It was already after eleven. “Speaking of that, I’d better get home, or you’ll have to drag me out of bed tomorrow morning.”
“You could stay here,” Callum offered.
She whipped her head around before she could temper her response. “Um…stay?” she repeated.
His cheeks darkened as she stared at him. “I’d sleep on the couch. I mean, you could have my bed. If you didn’t want to drive home tonight.” He suddenly looked irritated. “Never mind. I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow at eight.”
“I…well, thanks. My woodstove needs to be stoked, but I appreciate the offer.” Wincing inwardly at her stiffly formal tone, she tried to relax and speak normally. “Besides, you know I’d be waking you at two a.m. to discuss some new, wild theory my sleeping brain conjured up.”
Although he nodded, he still looked uncomfortable. She moved toward the door, pulling her coat out of the closet and jamming her feet into her boots. Once she had her coat zipped and was wearing her hat and gloves, she didn’t have any excuse not to look at him, so she met his eyes.
“Thanks. For letting me come over and use your whiteboard and everything.” Why he always reduced her to sounding like a stammering seventh-grader on her first date, she didn’t know. Shedidknow that right now everything was awkward and uncomfortable, and she wanted to leave. “Okay. Um…bye.”
Callum held the door for her. “Bye. Drive safely.”
“Will do.” She saluted him and hurried down the steps, tripping on the last one. Although she stayed upright, she had to pinwheel her arms to catch her balance. Apparently, she was incapable of being anything but a walking disaster in Callum’s presence.
“Careful,” he warned, his voice sharp.
She waved, her attention on the ground in front of her feet as she walked the rest of the way to her truck without any more mishaps. She started the engine and rolled down the window. “See you tomorrow,” she said, waving as she backed out of his driveway.
He raised a hand, his figure silhouetted in the doorway. He looked so solitary standing there that she felt a twinge of guilt for not accepting his invitation to stay.
Her truck tires slipped sideways as she went around a turn. They caught the surface of the road when she straightened the wheel, but the slide had brought her back to the present. After that, she concentrated on driving, pushing Callum into a dark corner of her mind.
Later. She’d think about all that later.
* * *
How long had he been sitting there? How many minutes or even hours had passed since she’d disappeared into that house? He wasn’t sure, but it had been long enough to knot his hands into fists and sour his stomach.
