Killer View

He looked the man over: Tommy Brandon, the deputy he wanted in the glider with him; Tommy Brandon, his wife’s lover, a man he wanted nothing to do with.

“How are you in small planes?”

“I hate ’em.”

“Good. Get dressed.”

57

FIONA KENSHAW HAD BEEN GREETED WITH SUSPICION, AS she arrived at the Tulivich’s front door. Someone-from the hospital, perhaps-had leaked to the local press that the sheriff had interviewed their daughter, Kira, in co

Fiona’s county employee ID, which she carried in order to enter and photograph crime scenes, put off those suspicions and granted her access. A few minutes later, she was on a leather couch, in front of a log fire, awaiting Kira. The girl looked sheepish and shy but not at all bruised or damaged.

The date-rape cocktail had blocked her memory of the assault, she explained, though she still ached all over, leaving her feeling like she was inhabiting some other girl’s body. There were some follow-up doctor visits yet to come, and counseling had been recommended, though she couldn’t figure out why she would get counseling for something about which she had absolutely no memory.

But for all her claim to remember nothing, Kira had a sullen look, her eyes distant.

“I won’t stay long,” Fiona said. “And I should be clear that I’m not here in any official capacity. I wanted to see how you’re doing and to wish you well. And the sheriff wanted me to pass along that, as it turns out, you’ve played an important role in a very high-level investigation.”

“Seriously?” She feigned interest.

“Small change, I know, but I thought you might want to hear that something good came out of what happened.”

“Something good for other people, you mean?” Delivered with an ice-cold assertion.

“I know it’s not much.”

“What am I supposed to say: happy to do my part?”

Her mother entered the room, trying to appear hospitable-a failed effort.

“I’ve got it, Mom,” Kira snapped. “We’d rather talk alone.”

The mother pursed her lips, and retreated. The exchange sent shivers through Fiona.

A victim was like a pebble in a pond, Fiona realized; the ripples traveled out a great distance.

Kira whispered to Fiona, “I can’t brush my teeth without one of them hovering over me. It’s like I’m on suicide watch or something.”

You probably are, Fiona thought.

“You actually came here to try to make me feel good about what happened?” Kira said incredulously.

“Of course not! Nothing like that. I came to give you these,” she said, handing Kira five photographs from the wedding.

The girl flipped through them. A smile flickered across her face, quickly wiped away by a realization. “Ancient history,” she mumbled. She blinked repeatedly. “It’s weird. I remember this like it was a year ago.”

“That’s someplace to start.”

Biting her lip, Kira studied the photos more slowly. “This one of the bouquet…”

“I didn’t take that one. I threw it in no charge.”

“That’s you.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t remember you there.”

“I was working. Not exactly dressed for the occasion, as you can see.”

“You caught it.”

“Technically, no. But that’s how the umpire ruled.”

Another smile. Small victories.

“Can I keep these?”

“Of course. They’re for you.”

“Thank you.” She made a point of meeting Fiona’s eyes.

“There’s one other thing. I’m not sure I’m allowed to tell you this, but that’s never stopped me before.” She winced. “And it’s really none of my business. I should say that right off the top. But your family is obviously of some means, and, well, it’s one of those things I feel compelled to do. You know? Have you ever felt that way? Despite your better judgment?”

Kira nodded.

“Good.” Fiona collected her thoughts. “There’s a boy named Taylor Crabtree.”

“That loser?”

“You know him.”

“I see him around. I don’t know him.”

“Well, that’s the point, I guess. He’s the one who rescued you.” She watched this sink in. “From the cabin. He’s who drove you to the hospital.”

“That dork?”

“The same.”

“But why? How?”

“He saw you… abducted. He was able to get you out. No one knows this, by the way. He might be hurt, or even killed, if word got out, so I’m trusting you on this.”

Kira nodded. “I understand. I promise.” She looked around the room in an effort to avoid Fiona. “I just don’t get it. Taylor Crabtree?”

“He’s had a rough time of it. Lousy family scene. Tough conditions. Has found his way into a lot of trouble.”

“I know all about it. A friend of mine was at the Alternative School with him.”

“He works at Elbie’s down in Hailey.”

“You’re thinking some kind of reward, aren’t you?”

“Maybe not quite that obvious. A letter from your father would do a lot. A job that’s better than changing tires. Something to give him a leg up. Then again, maybe it’s not appropriate. I felt obliged to let you know about his role in it. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Let’s leave it at that.”

“I am not writing a thank-you note.”

“You do, or don’t do, whatever you feel is appropriate.”

“He actually got me out of wherever they had me?”

“He did.”

“And you’re sure it wasn’t him that-”

“We are,” Fiona answered.

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“Taylor Crabtree?”

“The word hero is tossed around a lot. The real heroes are often the most unlikely.”

“He saved my life.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Oh my God.”

“Anyway… I should be going. It’s good to see you up and around.”

“You did this just because you felt sorry for him?”

“I did it because I had to. Because guys like Taylor Crabtree are often seriously misunderstood, and I know my attitude toward him changed a lot when I heard what he did. I had formed a pretty strong impression of him because of a previous situation-”

“The webcam stuff?”

“No, before that, actually. And this being a small town and all… A person like you could help turn opinion around-among his friends, I mean. Not now, of course, but maybe when it’s all over.”

“When will it be over?”

Fiona said nothing.

“For me,” Kira said, “it feels like it’ll never be over.”

“It’s early yet. But, honestly, that’s the kind of thing a counselor can help a lot with.”

“You’d know all about it, would you?” Kira said sharply.

Fiona waited until the girl dared to meet her eyes. It took a long minute.

Then she said, equally firmly, “I was in a very destructive relationship before I moved here. I went through some of what you went through but without the drugs. I came here today, in part, because no one ever came to me. No one ever knew what was going on. What was happening. I needed someone to talk to, but I was too scared. I thought it would change people’s opinion of me, lose me my friends. Ruin everything. And then one day I realized I was ruined beyond anything mere opinion could change. And I took action. I promised myself that if I ever even thought someone was going through what I went through, I would intervene. I would do something. I don’t know exactly why I came here. You don’t need me. But maybe I need you. I needed to tell you it gets better, a little better, day by day.” Kira was crying now, her head hanging, her hair falling forward. “You feel it was somehow your fault. A way you acted. Something you wore. That you asked for it. But that’s bullshit. And I’m here to tell you that you have to push those voices from your head.”

Kira was sobbing now. “I feel so… dirty.”

“Talk to someone, Kira. It’s so much better if you talk to someone.”

The head bobbed.

Fiona breathed differently; Kira was the first person with whom she’d shared any of this. It came as a huge relief and terrified her at the same time. Some secrets were more dangerous than others.