Several days later, after they’d returned from a local fire, the sheriff’s truck was parked outside of the bunk building. As the rest of the tired and soot-covered crew piled out of their truck, they all cleaned up and put their gear away, taking their time. No rush to the task which often took place after a long hot day. Pensive glances were tossed toward the porch occasionally, as if whoever was inside might discover their error and take Cal to prison instead. Despite thirst and hunger, no one was in a hurry to enter the bunk house, knowing Cal had returned and he was probably in there now learning the rules of his tentative release as Tuck listened in.
Finally, an older man with a dusty-colored mustache, holding a gray cowboy hat in his hand, the same color of his uniform, emerged from the doorway shaking his head. He swung the hat a few times against his thigh, harder than needed, as he said goodbyes to the two men at the door and made his way over to his truck. “Damn shame what’s going on in this country,” he mumbled as he got into his truck.
That was it. He backed up, turned right and the gravel dust blew up from the back of his retreating tires.
Dane watched as he left them with a defenseless criminal. Abandoning a shameful man to their coming deeds. She’d noticed the sheriff never looked back.
A few of the other firemen decided the coast was clear enough and made their way to the bunkroom building. Their strides were slow. No one hurried despite their hunger and thirst.
Matthew nodded to Dane as if to say, Here we go! His eyes were steely, his mouth set firm in a thin line.
One boot ate gravel after the other as Dane too headed for the building. She needed a drink and she would have one soon, knowing what would come in time. For now, while sobriety kept her from revenge, she opened the door with Matthew behind her, saw the back of Cal’s shaved and scab-riddled head as he sat in a chair facing the television, and stopped briefly, admiring her handiwork—though inefficient it was.
It was Matthew who prodded her on, nudging her in the small of her back. She resisted the temptation to yank Cal out of the chair, ending him right there.
Instead, he was telling Owen, one of the younger firemen, his recollection of things as he chugged a bottle of water. The bottle shook in his hand and his words spilled over themselves. He was nervous, and Dane knew why. Undoubtedly, he sensed the danger he was in. Like being surrounded by wolves when he was sheep covered in bacon grease. It was only natural.
“I don’t know, man. I don’t have any memory of what happened that night, but I’d never touched her. I swear. I would never do that to her or anyone else. She was my friend. It’s mistaken identity. I understand why she’s blaming me, though. Poor thing. She’s all mixed up. This will clear up in the end. She’ll come around.”
Owen had his eyebrows raised and nodded but she knew he wasn’t buying it. The kid wasn’t stupid. He confirmed this by saying, “Whatever, man.”
“How do you know it wasn’t you, if you don’t remember?” she said from behind him.
He jumped a little at her voice; that was an easy tell. He was faking it and everyone knew it. He turned to her and smiled but he didn’t answer the question.
Feeling the nudge again from Matthew, only more forcefully this time, Dane walked on to the kitchen, where most of the team leaned against counters or aimlessly meandered. No one wanted to be in the same room with him for long. The tension built, and it wasn’t just her. Dane saw how Tuck glared at the man from across the room. He held his crutch nearby. She thought for a second he might use the short end on Cal.
Tuck was obviously not comfortable with the arrangement, either.
Dane retrieved a water bottle from the fridge and when she turned, she saw the blinking light emanating in the distance from Cal’s ankle bracelet. Then she saw that he was staring back at her. He nodded his head as if to say hello. She couldn’t help herself; the next thing she knew she took an unconscious stride toward him when Matthew caught her around the middle and held her back, whispering in her ear, “Bide your time, Dane.”
And she would.