Page 72 of Holmes, Margaret and Poe

Captain,

You behaved terribly and said horrible things. Given that, I thought it best if I go to my sister’s until you find yourself another place to stay.

A lot of people care about you, Captain. A lot of people love you, including me. We are deeply worried about you, but we will not aid and abet your self-destruction. I know how to drink responsibly, and you do not. Get help. Get sober. And replace your addiction with faith. It’s the only thing that works.

If you don’t, then goodbye, Captain. I will always remember you as that better man.

Sincerely,

Fiona Plum

Davis’s hands shook as he read the letter again. He thought of the way Fiona had looked at him in the parking lot the day before and how she’d said she never abandoned her friends. He read it a third time and began to cry.

No matter her quirks and over-earnest personality, Fiona Plum was a good and decent woman, the kind he should have had the good sense to latch onto. The truth was he’d always kind of looked down on her, considered her a poor naive woman.

And he had seen things, hadn’t he? Too many things.

But it didn’t matter how naive she was. If he came to his senses …

Captain Davis read the letter a fourth time, his mind flashingwith images of missiles launched by his hand, their contrails leading to some Stone Age village, then exploding in dark mushrooms of destruction and ribbons of flame.

Through his tears, he stared at Fiona’s final sentences.

We are deeply worried about you, but we will not aid and abet your self-destruction. I know how to drink responsibly, and you do not. Get help. Get sober. And replace your addiction with faith. It’s the only thing that works.

Davis hung his head, seeing those images again, those mental recordings of missiles rocketing from his fighter jet, their vapor trails a promise, then the explosions and the craters and the wounds and the wounded and the dead.

Gripping his head now, trying to squeeze the memories back into some dark box in his mind, Davis knew that this dear, sweet teacher was right in everything she said in her letter. He needed help, and that was the problem.

No one can help me. No one can absolve me of the guilt for what I have done.

Not even Fiona Plum.

CHAPTER 65

SAMPSON FOLLOWED THE ENGLISHteacher’s Kia to a small blue Cape in the Groveton neighborhood of Alexandria. Before she could get out, he was at her door, showing her his badge.

Fiona Plum looked dreadfully hung over. When she saw him, he thought that she might be sick.

She lowered her window, said, “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“You have to talk to me. It’s a murder investigation. Where’s Captain Davis?”

“I left him passed out naked in my niece’s bunk bed. He’s got more issues than I can handle at the moment.”

“Such as?”

“He drinks too much. I drink, but he drinks way too much.”

“Did he say anything while he was drinking?”

Plum stared through the windshield. “He said a lot of things. I have no idea if any of it is true.”

“Let me figure that out.”

“You really have it in for him, don’t you?”

He sighed. “Honestly, Ms. Plum, I don’t have it in for anyone. I just want justice. If he’s guilty, I want to nail him. If he’s innocent, I want to see him stay free.”

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