King and Maxwell (Sean King & Michelle Maxwell 6)

“Regardless, honey, we have to try to get along. We’re all that’s left for each other.”

Tyler looked like he might be sick. “We don’t have each other, Jean. We’ve never had each other. I’m an orphan now. I don’t have anybody.”

There was an awkward silence and then Jean said, “The Army is sending some care volunteers here tomorrow.”

“Care volunteers? What for?”

“To help us. They can run errands. Take you to school. Help with meals. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. A lot of things to cope with.”

“Well, you can take me off your coping list. I don’t need any help. And I can get myself to school.”

“Tyler, you can’t just shut everyone out.”

“I’m going to find out what really happened to my dad. And I’ve got people who will help me. I’m going to find the truth, Jean.” He added with a shout, “I will.”

He jumped up and rushed down the stairs.

She started to go after him but then stopped. She walked to his desk, gazed down at the photo of the three Wingos, and then slipped a phone from her jeans pocket.

She thumbed in a text message and sent it off. It was only four words, but they actually said quite a lot.

We have a problem.

Tyler grabbed a set of car keys off the hook next to the fridge, went out the side door, and climbed into his father’s pickup truck. Every scent was his dad’s. There was a gun rack in the back window and an American flag sticker on the lower right-hand corner of the windshield. A pair of miniature plastic army boots dangled on a chain hung from the rearview mirror.

The two floor mats read, I Am Army Strong.

Tyler started the truck, popped it into reverse, and backed out of the driveway. He glanced at the clock on the dash. Nearly eight p.m. He stopped at the curb and thumbed in a text. He waited. A few seconds later he got a reply. He hit the gas and sped down the road.

Five minutes later he pulled up in front of Kathy Burnett’s house. She was waiting for him on the sidewalk. She climbed into the truck and shut the door firmly behind her.

He looked at her. “What did you tell your parents?”

“That I was going to see Linda down the street. She’ll cover for me.”

He nodded and drove off.

“What did you want to talk about?” asked Kathy.

Tyler didn’t answer her right away. “Stuff,” he said at last.

“What kind of stuff? About your dad, you mean?”

He nodded.

“Tyler, what’s really going on?”

He glanced at her and slowed down. “What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about those two detectives you hired? Why did you need them?”

“Stuff about my dad, I told you.”

“But your dad was killed in combat. The Army told you that. I’m a military brat like you. We all understand that could happen. There’s no mystery about it.”

“Well, there might be some mystery here,” he replied.

“Like what?”