Walk the Wire

Chapter 67

On the drive out, Decker asked Kelly, “What made Shane come back here?”

Kelly eyed him. “This was his hometown.”

“I understand that he was close to his mother but she had died by then, correct?”

“She had, yeah.”

“And he didn’t really care for his father. So why come back here and work for the guy?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“Because I’m asking you. You’re his friend.”

“What does it matter why he came back?”

“Right now everything matters.”

Kelly sat up straighter and stared out the window. “Shane never talked about the war with me. I only found out from other guys he served with. There were a couple that visited him here. We all went out, had some drinks, ate a bunch of red meat, and watched some football. Guy stuff, you know.”

“And what did they say?” asked Jamison.

“That Shane was really brave. That he was a good leader. That he cared about his guys more than he cared about himself. He was a Ranger, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know that,” said Jamison.

“Yeah. He was a sergeant when he came out. He could have stayed in and worked his way up higher, I guess. But he didn’t.”

“Maybe he wanted to see someone here,” said Decker suggestively.

Kelly continued to look out the window. “If you’re thinking of Caroline, I won’t disagree with you.”

“But it seems unrequited,” said Jamison.

“Even though their dads are both rich, they’re from two different worlds. Shane is a ‘beer and shoot a deer’ kind of guy. Caroline could be plopped in the middle of Paris and do just fine.” He paused and rubbed at his cheek. “The truth is she left us both in the dust a long time ago.”

“But that doesn’t mean a guy has to give up trying,” said Decker.

“No, it doesn’t,” said Kelly slowly. “But as the years go by, it is an effort with diminishing returns.”

Decker wondered if Kelly was just talking about Shane or himself.

“Okay, that does not look good. It’s like Hal Parker’s place all over again.”

Jamison said this as they pulled into the front of Dawson’s house. The door was standing wide open.

They hustled up to the porch.

Kelly peered inside the doorway and called out, “Hugh? Everything okay?”

There was no answer.

Kelly said, “At this time of the night all the hired help has long since gone home.”

He pulled his gun and rushed inside. They drew their weapons and followed him in.

“Hugh!” cried out Kelly. “Hugh, you here? Everything okay? Answer me!”

They moved slowly down the hallway, taking time to clear each room before they passed by it.

They heard nothing and saw no one.

They finally reached the door to Dawson’s office. It wasn’t open, but Kelly tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. He tapped on the door. “Hugh, it’s Joe Kelly.”

There was no answer.

He turned the knob and slowly pushed open the door.

They all looked into the room, their gazes moving from one section to the next until they stopped at the desk.

“Holy shit!” exclaimed Kelly.

“Oh my God,” echoed Jamison.

Decker said nothing. He gingerly moved toward the desk, avoiding the obvious debris on the floor, and stared down at Hugh Dawson, or what was left of him.

The room had now taken on an electric blue shade for Decker as the pall of death cascaded all over the room.

I guess that sensation is going to continue to come and go, he thought.

It had been a particularly violent death.

The man was slumped in his chair with most of his head gone. The desk, chair, floor, and walls were covered with blood and bits of the deceased man.

Kelly and Jamison joined him, taking care not to impact the crime scene.

Decker ran his gaze down the weapon that had done this level of damage. The Remington side-by-side lay on the desk. It had been perched on top of a pile of books and then secured using masking tape. The muzzle was angled up and pointed at the dead man. Decker noted the line of string running from the triggers around the butt of the weapon and then back to where Dawson sat. There it dropped off the edge of the desk and into the kneehole. The man had apparently used the twine to pull the triggers, ending his life, without a doubt.

Decker examined blood and bits on the floor in front of the desk and on the sides.

Kelly shook his head. “I can’t believe this. First Stuart dead, and now Hugh?”

Jamison managed to maneuver herself close enough to the desk to see a piece of paper lying there. It was covered with blood and other matter.

“It’s a suicide note,” she said in a hushed voice.

“What does it say?” asked Decker.

“It says he killed himself because he felt guilty for murdering Stuart McClellan.”

None of them said anything for a long moment as this revelation sank in.

“Does he give a reason for murdering the guy?” asked Kelly, who was standing behind her.

“No. Just that he admits it and felt badly afterward.”

They heard footsteps behind them.

They all turned to see Caroline Dawson rush into the room.

She looked around and then saw them by the desk. Her gaze reached her father’s body and then moved to his destroyed face. Every muscle in her body tensed, she turned deathly pale, stopped moving forward, and screamed hysterically. A moment later she tottered to the side and collapsed to the floor unconscious, hitting her head on the side of the chair on the way down.

And she didn’t move after that.