Dead and Gone

matter-of-fact. “You’ve never told the truth to yourself in your whole life, have you? You still see yourself as a pretty, young thing of twenty-five, and you still think some man will come along and recognize that in you. Someone will take care of you, let you quit working, send your kids to private schools where they’ll never have to talk to anyone different from them. That’s not gonna happen, Arlene. This is your life.” And I swept an open hand at the trailer in its weedy yard, the old truck. It was the meanest thing I’d ever said, and every word of it was true.
    And she screamed. She couldn’t seem to stop screaming. I looked into her eyes. She kept trying to look away, but she couldn’t seem to do that. “You witch!” she sobbed. “You’re a witch. There are such things, and you’re one of ’em!”
    If she’d been right, I could have prevented what happened next.
    At that moment, Andy pulled into the Freer yard, just as I had. For all he knew, there was still time to creep up on the trailer. I heard his car more or less at my back. My whole attention was concentrated on Arlene and the rear door of the trailer. Weiss, Lattesta, and Andy came up behind me just as Whit and his friend burst from the back door of the trailer, rifles in hands.
    Arlene and I were standing between two armed camps. I felt the sun on my arms. I felt a cold breeze pick up my hair and toss a lock playfully across my face. Over Arlene’s shoulder, I saw the face of Whit’s friend, and I finally remembered his name was Donny Boling. He’d had a recent haircut. I could tell from the white half inch at the base of his neck. He was wearing an Orville’s Stump Grinding T-shirt. His eyes were a muddy brown. He was aiming at Agent Weiss.
    “She has children,” I called. “Don’t do it!”
    His eyes widened with fright.
    Donny swung the rifle toward me. He thought, Shoot HER .
    I flung myself to the ground as the rifle went off.
    “Lay down your arms!” Lattesta screamed. “FBI!”
    But they didn’t. I don’t think his words even registered.
    So Lattesta fired. But you couldn’t say he hadn’t warned them.

Chapter 12
    In the moments following Special Agent Lattesta’s demand that the two men lay down their arms, bullets flew through the air like pine pollen in the spring.
    Though I was in an exposed position, none of them hit me, which I found absolutely amazing.
    Arlene, who didn’t dive as fast as I did, got a crease across her shoulder. Agent Weiss took the bullet—the same one that creased Arlene—in the upper right side of her chest. Andy shot Whit Spradlin. Special Agent Lattesta missed Donny Boling with his first shot, got him with his second. It took weeks to establish the sequence, but that’s what happened.
    And then the firing was over. Lattesta was calling 911 while I was still prone on the ground, counting my fingers and toes to make sure I was intact. Andy was equally quick calling the sheriff’s department to report that shots had been fired and an officer and civilians were down.
    Arlene was screaming over her little wound like she’d been gut shot.
    Agent Weiss was lying in the weeds bleeding, her eyes wide with fear, her mouth clamped shut. The bullet had gone in under her raised arm. She was thinking of her children and her husband and of dying out here in the sticks, leaving them behind. Lattesta pulled off her vest and put pressure on her wound, and Andy ran over to secure the two shooters.
    I slowly pushed up to a sitting position. There was no way I could stand. I sat there in the pine needles and dirt and looked at Donny Boling, who was dead. There was not the faintest trace of activity in his brain. Whit was still alive though not in good shape. After Andy gave Arlene a cursory examination and told her to shut up, she quit shrieking and settled down to cry.
    I have had lots of things to blame myself about in the course of my life. I added this whole incident to the list as I watched the blood seeping into the dirt around Donny’s left side. No one would have gotten shot if I’d just climbed back in my car and driven away. But no, I had to try to catch Crystal’s killers. And I knew now—too late—that these idiots weren’t even the culprits. I told myself that Andy had asked me to help, that Jason needed me to help . . . but right now, I couldn’t foresee feeling okay about this for a long time.
    For a brief moment I considered lying back down and wishing myself