Gone (Michael Bennett)

There’s no evidence here. No prints anywhere. No witnesses. No nothing. I got the coroner to red-ball the autopsy so we can get her back to her family as soon as possible. Did the husband get here yet?”
    “Still in the air,” Emily said.
    “Probably for the best. He shouldn’t see this. Unbelievable. I know I’ve given you feds some heat, and I’m sorry for that. I know how hard you guys work. I know how bad it feels when one of your family gets taken from you.”
    He quickly handed Emily a stack of bills.
    “Passed the hat around. Get her poor kids some ice cream or something from us, OK? Tell them the LAPD isn’t going to stop until we drop every last one of the people who hurt their mother.”
    “Thanks,” Emily said. “I will.”
    “Hey, Bassman,” I said as the big guy walked away.
    “What is it, Bennett?”
    “Maybe you’re not such an asshole after all,” I said.
    He smiled, shrugged.
    “Just don’t let it get around,” he said.

CHAPTER 68
     
    IT WAS HOT WHEN they woke that morning, and even hotter now at eleven as they went across the scrubby, grass-filled field under the pitiless sun.
    Brian Bennett slapped at a monster horsefly that stung at his sweating neck. Man, he was starting to hate the country. The biggest lie in the world was how nature was supposed to be so invigorating and healthy. If there was one thing that he had learned out here, it was that nature was nothing but hot, dirty, smelly, and boring beyond the realm of human tolerance.
    “Shit!” Brian yelled as the horsefly stung him again.
    “Cursin’ now, Brian? Saints preserve us!” Eddie said, mimicking Seamus’s Irish accent to a tee.
    Brian turned around to catch Eddie smiling, a napkin sticking out of his nose from a nosebleed he’d gotten about a quarter mile from the house.
    Brian laughed despite himself. You had to hand it to the kid. He just kept at it 24-7. Jabbering, doing funny voices, making fun of things—himself, mostly—like some clown or court jester or something. A fool , Brian thought. That’s what he is. My brother Eddie, the fool. And he meant it in the best way possible.
    “Quick question,” Ricky said from behind Eddie. “Why are we wandering the earth like a band of postapocalyptic nomads again? I hate to say this, big bro, but this Bataan death trek is quickly starting to teeter into the suck category.”
    “You can go back any time you want, wimp,” Brian said angrily. “That goes for you, too, Eddie. I never asked you to follow me around. I couldn’t care less what you guys do.”
    “Pardon me, but wasn’t it you who woke us up at the crack of dawn, Brian?” Ricky said. “I distinctly remember someone who looked a heck of a lot like you saying, ‘Get up, you idiot. It’s time to go.’ ”
    “It’s OK,” Brian heard Eddie say to Ricky. “Brian’s just having one of his Brian moments. In other words, our big brother is going completely nuts.”
    You can say that again , Brian thought as he trudged across the not-so-fruited California plain. What fifteen-year-old wouldn’t go nuts being exiled out here in the desert, like someone from the Bible?
    And, just like a nut, he had woken that morning inspired to accomplish an important mission. He was going to walk until he found the river that Mr. Cody had driven them to a few weeks before. Not for any real reason. Because it’s there , Brian thought as he paced over the seemingly endless plain of dry land.
    He thought he knew the general direction, but they were three hours into the hike, with no water anywhere. Has to be around here somewhere , he thought, sheepishly squinting up at the sky.
    He hadn’t told Mary Catherine or Seamus about his plans. Hadn’t asked permission. Hadn’t even left a note. He knew it was slightly messed up to just get up and leave without saying anything, but that was pretty much the point. Dad was gone now. They were stuck out here, with no end in sight, and he was simply sick of it. The cows, the homeschooling lessons with the little twerps. Hell, he should just keep walking east until he made it back to Manhattan. Back to his friends. Back to his real life.
    “I don’t know, but I’ve been told,” sang Eddie after a while, “this stupid walk is getting old! Sound off!”
    “One, two,” Ricky sang.
    “Wait, wait,” Brian said. “Shut up! Listen!”
    They stopped in their tracks. There was a faint rushing sound coming from beyond the broken, distant tree line off to their right.