Burner, p.1
Burner, page 1
Burner © 2020 by Robert Ford
Cover Design by whutta.com
Blurred Images Press
This book is a work of fiction. Characters, places and events described are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
This book is dedicated to Tod Clark.
May the Long Pig Saloon never run dry.
Preface
The topic matter of this novel is the most terrifying thing I’ve considered in my life—as a husband, a father, a friend, and a man.
No writer wants to cause true emotional trauma to a reader, but the terrible truth is life doesn’t provide trigger warnings. The evening news and social media don’t come with them either. Real life hits you with a sledgehammer when you least expect it.
But unlike those examples, the novel you hold in your hands is not a surprise. It’s a known thing, at least to me, and any opportunity to avoid additional mental pain should be taken—and more importantly, offered.
This book deals with brutal material. It is violent. There are drug and rape references. This was not an easy book to research, because, the more facts I uncovered, the more difficult it became to accept this is an actual reality in the world.
You can choose to avoid these kinds of things—in both fiction and the daily news—but to ignore them, to turn away and pretend they don’t exist in the world we live in, is akin to sticking your head in the sand.
Whether we decide to look or not, these things still exist, even if only in the shadows.
This novel has to do with guilt. With redemption. With how pain and experience change you. It has to do with action as well as inaction. Because seeing something wrong and doing nothing—nothing at all—is the worst kind of evil there is.
Evil is unspectacular and always human,
and shares our bed and eats at our own table.
—W.H. Auden
You can choose to look the other way,
but you can never again say that you did not know.
—William Wilberforce
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
CHAPTER SIXTY
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
CHAPER SIXTY-TWO
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
CHAPTER SEVENTY
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
IRIS: now
“This is not an interrogation.”
“I know, Doc.” The detective put his hands on his hips, pushing his suit jacket back to expose the badge clipped to his belt. “The District Attorney wants me here to make sure all the I’s are dotted and the T’s are all crossed.”
“You’re here for observation only.” The man flipped through a thick stack of papers in a manila folder, pausing to scan details. He spoke without looking up. “I run the room. If I feel you’re a distraction to a proper evaluation—”
“I said, I know.” There was an edge to the detective’s voice—the tone of someone familiar with power. “Look, I get you wantin’ to be all professional about this for the courts, okay? I get it, but come on, Doc. Even you have to admit this is some pretty fucked up shit.”
It wasn’t the first time the doctor had been called in to do a psychiatric evaluation for the Harrisburg Bureau of Police, but it was the first time he had been called in on anything like this. He closed the folder and hefted it out in front of him. “This everything?”
“Including her report cards from grade school.” A prideful smirk decorated the detective’s expression. He turned away to look at the two-way mirror set into the wall before them. “Some twisted shit, Doc. Some really twisted…”
The doctor sighed, and matched the detective’s gaze. Behind the mirror, a woman sat at a metal table in a small room. She wore a short sleeve, orange jumpsuit with Dauphin County Prison stenciled across the back, and a gray long-sleeved thermal shirt beneath it. Her straight, light-brown hair was limp and her bangs hung down over the right side of her face to reach her shoulders. She sat, unmoving, with both feet on the floor and her arms crossed in front of her.
Taking a deep breath, the doctor exhaled slowly, and then opened the door. The detective followed, closing the door behind them.
The room was simple and functional. The walls were painted eggshell white, with no artwork to convey a comfortable setting. A water cooler in the corner, a table with two chairs, and a cheap, wheeled office chair by the doorway were the grand sum of the room’s contents.
“My name is Dr. Walker.” The doctor pulled the empty chair away from the metal table on the opposite side of the woman. He put the manila folder down, sat, and scooted the chair farther away to give him room.
The woman glanced at him, but didn’t speak.
Dr. Walker shifted the folder to reveal a cloth case beneath it. He unsnapped a catch and exposed an iPad, and then crossed his legs, propping the device against his knee. He woke the device from sleep and maneuvered through the icons on the screen.
“Mind if I smoke?” A crinkled pack of Winstons lay on the table in front of her.
The man continued on his tablet without looking up. “I’d prefer you didn’t, but—”
The woman cut off the rest of his reply with the sound of a lighter being flicked and a sharp inhale.
Dr. Walker turned to the man sitting in the wheeled chair he had moved to the corner of the room. The detective stood and walked toward the water cooler, retrieved a metallic silver ashtray resting on top, and then set the ashtray on the table.
“Miss Sanders, do you know why we’re here?”
The woman snickered, making the hair covering the right side of her face ripple with motion. “Because of what I did.”
The doctor adjusted himself straighter in his chair. “Yes, of course, but we’re here to do a psychiatric evaluation to determine—”
“What’s that?” The woman took another drag from her cigarette.
Dr. Walker nodded understandingly, a slight smile on his face. “Sometimes a psychiatric evaluation is done when—”
“I received a medical degree from the University of Maryland and graduated fourth in my class.” The woman glared with her one visible eye. “I know what the fuck a psych eval is, Doctor.”
Dr. Walker cleared his throat and reached for the manila folder again. He flipped through the paperwork, pausing on several sheets. “Yes.” He closed it again and put the file back on the table. “Yes, I suppose you would.”
The detective snorted from his chair in the corner. Barely above a whisper, he shook his head and spoke to himself. “Ted Bundy was smart, too.”
The doctor turned back to his iPad and jotted notes with a stylus. His gaze remained focused on the screen as he casually spoke. “Please leave the room, Detective.”
The man exhaled sharply and stiffened in the chair.
“I’m sure you have other I’s to dot and T’s to cross somewhere else.” Dr. Walker lifted his head and looked at the other man.
The Detective’s face flushed. He nodded and made a frustrated grunt as he sucked against his teeth, but he stood from the chair and walked from the room.
The woman reached forward to flick ash from her cigar
Sliding the ashtray closer, she pulled the fabric of her sleeve down further. Her gaze remained locked on his eyes.
“Let me save you some time and trouble, Doctor. Yes, I am mentally competent. I am very mentally competent.” She glanced at his tablet and motioned to it with her hand holding the cigarette. “I’m sure you’re recording all of this, so yes, I did it. Yes, I planned it, and yes, I’m guilty.” The woman took a hard drag off the Winston. “I’m fully aware of what I did and I’d fucking do it again.”
The woman looked down at her lap and then her focus returned to the doctor’s face. “The only thing I feel remorse for is not having the discipline to make it last longer.”
CHAPTER TWO
IRIS: then
“Honey? What time do we have to be there again?”
“Not until seven.” Iris stopped in the hallway and craned her head around the doorframe of the bathroom. Behind the frosted glass of the shower, she could see Nathan’s naked silhouette. She raised an eyebrow and smiled to herself. For a moment, Iris considered shedding her own clothes and joining him. Between final exams for both of them, and her interviews for fall residencies, it had left little time for having a life, let alone making love. She missed him.
Iris pulled herself away from staring at the glass shower door and shook her head, even though the smile remained on her face. Time enough for that later. Nathan had finished his exams and it was two days until her graduation ceremony. Tonight, they were going out to celebrate with friends and maybe continue the party back here.
She put her hands on her hips and looked around the living room. The TV screen was dusty from not being used. Nathan’s clean laundry from several days ago sat, untouched, in a basket on the coffee table, and a stack of week-old mail rested on a pizza box beside it. The vacuum cleaner sat next to the couch with the best intentions of getting used, but Iris couldn’t recall the last time it had been run—not that they had been at home often enough to get the carpet dirty.
No one was invited over with the place looking like this.
Iris sighed. Hectic schedules don’t make for tidy apartments. She lifted the basket of Nathan’s clothes and headed toward the bedroom. He could handle vacuuming and taking out the trash when he was done in the shower.
The bedroom had hampers of dirty clothes for both of them, but for the most part, it wasn’t a complete mess. She put the basket down and started folding Nathan’s t-shirts and tucking them into place in his dresser. She tossed a pair of his jeans onto the bed and started pairing his socks together.
Iris pulled Nathan’s sock drawer open and froze. Among the mix of business and plain white cotton socks, a square velvet box was nestled in the upper right corner. Her stomach flipped. Iris swallowed hard as she reached for the box and paused. She leaned toward the door to the hallway and listened to the shower still running.
She opened the lid and felt the tight, unused hinge of a new jewelry box, and bit her lip. Resting in a slot of padded velvet, sat a white gold engagement ring. The tooling along the sides appeared antique, the engraving delicate, and the diamond a beautiful round cut. It was simple and elegant without being gaudy.
So beautiful.
Tears sprung to her eyes and Iris snapped the box shut, putting it back in place among the socks. Her stomach flipped again and she felt a shiver go through her body. She wanted to scream. She wanted to jump up and down and wave her hands and let happy tears fall down her cheeks.
Instead, Iris stepped back, sat on the bed, and took a deep breath. She laughed and smiled to herself as she wiped her eyes. Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her jeans and Iris pulled it free, smiling harder at the name on the screen before she answered the call.
“Hey, Mom!”
“Hi hon. Getting excited yet?”
She wanted to whisper to her mother, to blurt out what she had just discovered, but Iris bit her lip and stretched back on the bed, keeping the secret tight. “Ohhh yeah and so is Nathan. He’s so glad to be done with this year.”
“I bet he is. One more left for him, well, one more until he’s a doctor, you know what I mean. Nathan’s a good man. It’ll all pay off for you two.”
“He is a good man.” Iris glanced at the hall and smiled.
“Your dad and I are heading down about ten o’clock Saturday morning.”
“Mom, the ceremony isn’t until one in the afternoon.”
“You know your father. He hates to be late, plus, he’ll need to stop and pee at least three times on the drive down.”
Iris shook her head. “He really needs to get that checked. He has a bladder of a Chihuahua.”
“His doctor says he’s in good health. Nothing wrong but growing older. Hey, I saw the pictures you posted online. You like your new haircut?”
Iris ran a hand over the back of her head and down to her neck. A pixie-cut, the hairdresser had called it. It felt strange and light, especially considering she had hair mid-way down her back only a week ago.
“I’m getting there. It’s easy to style, I’ll say that. Five minutes in the morning and I’m out the door.” Iris laughed and heard the shower turn off. She thought of the ring and bit her lip as she rolled over onto her stomach and propped herself on one elbow. “Mom?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“I just…” Iris felt her eyes get glassy. “Thank you and Dad. Really. For everything. You two—”
“Honey.” There was a pause on the other end of the line, and a sigh. “It’s what parents are supposed to do. We’ve been happy to help you however we can, and your dad and I are so proud of you.”
“I know, Mom, but you and Dad worked so hard to get me through college and… I’ll pay you back. I will! I’m—”
“It’s never been about the money, sweetie. You don’t have to—”
“Then you and Dad come live with me and Nathan when you get older, okay? I’ll take care of you both.”
There was soft laughter on the phone. “Okay. You’ve got a deal.”
Iris smiled at the concession and her voice softened. “It’s really all coming together, isn’t it?”
“Your dad and I told you it would. Remember in your first year when you called us crying? We told you how hard it would be, but it would all be worth it.”
“What was it Dad said? Sometimes happy tears come with a little blood? Something like that? I don’t remember exactly but it was one of his cryptic sayings.”
“I don’t know. He’s a crazy ol’ man.”
Iris smiled. “Yeah, he is. But he was right. Both of you were.”
“Mmmhmmm. Sometimes, parents are.” More soft laughter from her mother and the familiar sound of coffee being pouring into a mug.
Iris could picture her mother’s face as she spoke. Her kind eyes wrinkled at the corners as she smiled.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you.”
“Can’t wait to see you both. Tell Dad I love him, too, okay?”
“I’ll tell him. Oh, and let Nathan know that Dad has a tee-time set up for them in two weeks. I forget the course, but I’m sure it’s somewhere snooty.”
Iris sat up on the bed as she realized the shower had stopped, and imagined Nathan toweling off in the bathroom. “I’ll let him know. I’m sure they’ll have a great time. They always do.”
“That’s because your father sneaks a pint of liquor onto the course. He thinks he’s being slick, but he can’t get it by me. He’s such a lush when he plays golf.”
Iris laughed and smiled at her mother’s tone of voice, the mischief there, the love. She could almost see the twinkle in her mother’s eyes.
“It’s good for the two of them. Makes me happy they get along so well.”
“Me too, honey. Well, I’ve got to run. I’ve got lasagna in the oven for dinner and your dad likes it crispy but not burnt. We’ll see you Saturday.”
“Bye, Mom.”
“Bye, honey.”
Iris tossed her phone to the bed and heard the bathroom fan stop running. Her gaze turned to the laundry basket and her stomach dropped, eyes going wide. She leaped toward the dresser and slid the sock drawer closed as Nathan came walking into the bedroom.
