---1---
Reylott handcuffed him, hands front, leashed him at the waist with a rope. When Don got ahead, Rey jerked him back, demanded he maintain the pace, driving him over the carpet of vegetation and pine needles. Too slow, too fast, too far. Don wished he'd make up his mind. He asked questions; Rey ignored them, said when we're out farther we'll confer; your people have lost touch, they'll be getting antsy about your whereabouts, since they can't reach your brother either. He bragged that he'd nabbed Don's boots before he'd smoked him out, otherwise he would've slowed them down.
Don shut up to conserve strength and eke out an offensive, hanging on to Charlie's survival. Rey claimed he didn't need to squeeze Charlie and Don hoped that meant he'd tucked him out of the way unharmed. Rey wouldn't hesitate to use Charlie against him. Don weighed his options. Strategy, tactics, tricks of the psyche. Unfortunately, Armen Reylott knew what he knew. They'd trained together in Virginia, been comfortable as colleagues until crime and politics soured their friendship.
The leash tightened and Don stumbled, thoughts racing, tongue so dry it felt like a pink eraser. "Know where you are?" he finally said.
Rey halted him mid-step over a crooked sapling. "See that?" he said, excited. "Up there?"
"No." Don was exhausted. Reylott seemed paranoid. "How much further?"
A prominent outcropping preoccupied Rey, jutting out at the top of an incline to the west. Don deemed this sudden jitteriness a positive sign, a weakness. Maybe Rey was hallucinating--a useful insecurity, equally ominous.
"Go to ground," Reylott said, directing his captive to the base of a fat tree trunk. Don tolerated the break, afraid what Rey would do next. Some of what he'd contrived was coordinated, the remainder reckless. Option one. Get to know Reylott again, commune with his inner child until he develops enough empathy to let me go.
"Why a fire?" Don asked. "I might not have made it. The whole forest could've gone up."
"Calculated risk. Burned where it should. Arson's a cinch."
"Since when?" Don saw something zip by a few yards out--a furry rodent, going about its business beneath the lowest branches.
"My expertise?" Rey sat down on a rotting log, the leash casually wrapped on his hand. "You can take the boy out of the Bureau, but you can't take the Bureau out of the boy."
"The koi."
"My calling card," he said, stripping off his pack. "I enjoy fish, for dinner."
"Those were Charlie's. You didn't have to pick on my family."
"Yes I did. Your brother was a smart guy. He and I," Rey said, crossing his fingers, "...kindred spirits."
"How could you know that?"
"From everything. From when we met." Rey produced a canteen, took a drink. "We hit it off. He should've been my brother."
Don tried not to let on how thirsty he was. "If you're so fond of Charlie, why hurt him?"
"Because," he said. "I know what it does to you."
Reylott goaded him to react, baiting him. Don couldn't see it; Rey had met Charlie once or twice when he was younger yet Rey was convinced they'd bonded like siblings.
Don smoothed a knuckle over his hair. The tips were brittle and they filtered off like sawdust. Blisters had formed on his fingers and palms. Option two. Beg for my life until he thinks I'm hysterical, then strike. "For old times' sake, Rey, tell me what you want. But I can't fix your life." He crossed his wrists over his chest. "I just want to know where Charlie is."
"Aren't you honest, since you ruined it," Rey said. He put his canteen away. "You won't see your brother again."
"I didn't know what to do," Don said. "You know how it was, get tagged with suspicion those first four years and it's on the books, affects your career, proven or not. I was shaking in my brand new shoes. Harbert was pushing me to cut ties. Kept telling me, 'CYA, Eppes'."
"You were his protégé, I was his piss-wall."
"He was involved?" Don knew it wasn't true.
"He approved the evidence they said I falsified."
"Why rehash it?" Option three. Remain detached, impervious to emotional manipulation. Don't let him see me sweat, jump him when he's vulnerable.
"I didn't have a choice," Rey said. "I've lived like nobody while you do your hero impersonation. I figured I knew you, like my family."
"Your father?"
"He was ashamed of me. Couldn't show his face with the Bureau alumni--or he wouldn't, the old coward. Marlease dumped me."
"I didn't know."
"Case in point," Rey said. "Didn't hear a word from you."
Don tamed a wayward root with his foot. "I'm sorry."
"I traced your work, tried to see you a couple of times. Then I got...sick. Had to regroup. When I was good again, I sent letters. Those unsigned cards at Christmas last few seasons? There's a company in Iowa that reroutes them with a North Pole stamp."
"Your little joke?"
Reylott blabbed on, apparently not listening. He was on a roll, stuff he'd saved up for years. "My sister tried to join, tread in dad's footsteps. Mine left a gaping hole. Wouldn't accept her no matter what. Hole ate her up. If only you'd spoken up."
"Wouldn't have made any difference." Don compromised; he'd display enough respect to keep Rey interested and enough sympathy and detachment to frustrate him. And, God forgive, if he had to use his mother's death to humanize himself before his captor, he would.
"Harbert treated you like a son," Rey said. "Believed you. He didn't have time for me even before it hit the fan."
Don blew on his hands; they felt swollen. "I hated what was going on."
"Don't fake it."
"I'm not. Since mom died, there's a lot of things I regret."
"She had cancer."
Reylott had diligently been following his life. He was obsessed.
"Least she got to see you become an overrated suck-up." He spit near the log. "You don't deserve awards. You're a coward like my dad. It should've been me, my life. I slaved to get there. I have more talent, more brains, more guts, same as Charlie did."
Don said, "I'm not the same man. My mother's death was a wake-up call. She suffered and Charlie, well, he had a hard time. I gave up everything to come home."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Priority, Rey." Don's fingers skimmed the leash. "People are important. It's not all about the job."
"Hear that on TV?" Rey said. "You believed I was guilty, didn't you?"
"I didn't know."
Reylott jumped up and the leash went taunt, scraping Don's hands. In pain, he raised them out of the way before they could get caught again.
"Crap, I was right," Rey said. "I didn't have a snowball's chance. You conspired, you all conspired."
Don hadn't made progress; Rey's ideology possessed him.
"I should shoot you right now," he said, the gun to Don's head.
Option four, say a prayer. He ducked, arms up--so many things he'd never gotten around to.
Instead, Rey started laughing. "You used Charlie, to get easy credit for yourself. He did all the work, in addition to his academic responsibilities. Made you seem brilliant, didn't he? I'll bet he was no more than a passing initial in your reports. 'C. E., Consultant'. Not even a 'Doctor' in front of it."
"You're way off base," Don said. "Charlie consults with us because he wants to. He's compensated for his time."
"And you strolled away with the accolades." Rey closed up his pack. "Took advantage of his trust, same as mine."
"He's my brother. I'd never do that."
"I thought we were."
---2---
His captor droned on, enjoying the pity party, the one-sided conversation. Don reasoned that when he'd broken down at the fire, he'd broken too soon. Reylott had been too efficient--it hadn't satisfied him, didn't last long enough. To punish me, he'll go on pushing my buttons. This has to stop now, while I still have strength.
Reylott dropped his guard and the leash slackened. Don tugged, snapped it, and Rey's arm jerked towards him. In the same instant, he lunged, plowed into Rey, kneeing him in the groin. They toppled against the log and Don straddled him, cuffed hands laying hold of Reylott's gun hand and crushing it against the trunk. He wrenched Rey's pinky finger loose, yanked it backwards, trying to get him to release the weapon. Reylott protested with a primal yell but retained his hold. With his free hand, he grabbed Don around the neck.
Don choked. He dug his chin into chest, beating Rey's forearm while the bark chipped away, bent his finger until it seemed to dislocate. Rey was forced to let go. The gun tumbled, disappearing on the other side of the log. Don pushed away, kicking, and rolled off, scrambled over the log after the gun. Rey swooped in, jabbed a knee into Don's ribs until he retracted his limbs, wedging the gun beneath his body.
Rey trapped Don's shoulders in a vise and his hand stole under for the gun, grasping the barrel. With his legs, Don thrust into the soil and they wrestled in the leaves, smashing pinecones into the layered earth.
"Give me it," Reylott said, one fist clamped over Don's chest, the other on the gun's barrel. "You can't hurt me."
Don paid him no heed and they grappled, ended up on their flanks. He managed to worm his bound hands out, firmly secured on the gun's grip, and aimed it over his head and fired. Rey let go, repelled by the shot. Don acted, stuffing an elbow into Rey's chin, into an eye. Rey was dazed, shouted that he'd busted his eye socket. Don twisted out from under and sprung to his boots, clipped him on the temple with the grip.
Rey crumpled against the log. "I can't be hurt," he said, clutching his face. "Or you'll never find Charlie."
"He is alive, you shit. Liar!" Don strained to catch his breath. The smoke had left its damage. "Give me the key."
Rey refused, saying Don Eppes was a worse liar than he was.
He trained the .38 on the log, inches from Rey. Bark sailed into the air, sprinkling down in staccato beats.
Reylott dove, protected his head. "You're nuts," he yelled.
"Me?" Don said. "Give it."
Relenting, Rey tucked a hand into a front pocket.
"Slow, like a nice boy." Don gestured downwards. "Toss it here."
He did and Don retrieved it cautiously, then stepped backwards a few feet, careful of misstepping on uneven land. His hands hurt and he was frightened he'd fumble the gun before he could unlock the cuffs. While he struggled, Reylott hopped up, dug into a pocket and threw his own phone into the woods.
"Power's off," he said. "Dare you to find it." He seemed proud of his trick.
"Freeze!" Don said, releasing the cuffs. "Sit. Don't try anything anymore or I swear I'll kill you."
Rey obeyed. "Won't."
Don thought to cuff him, decided it was better to keep his distance. Reylott would interpret that as fear. So be it. With hands freed, he worked the rope, tangled around his waist, and untied it. Next, he dug into Reylott's backpack, glancing at the contents, an eye on the enemy. On one knee, he guzzled water and a food bar. He had no appetite, but his growling stomach required energy. Rey leaned on the log, a self-contained picture of monomania.
Don was dying to wring the smugness out of him, wondered if it was better to leave, take the supplies, rely on search and rescue teams to find Charlie, if they could. There was no guarantee. Reylott knew it. Many hikers had never been found, particularly in forests half the size of Rhode Island. Some were eventually found by accident months or years later, decaying at the bottom of cliffs, or washed up in the river after falling off precarious ledges. Others buried under rockslides, expiring abruptly or in increments. Bears, wildcats and plain old exposure had claimed their share as well.
If he sought aid, Charlie would be out here alone with Reylott, and what would Rey do then? Charlie must be out of his mind by now. There were no good choices. I'll feel Rey out, he concluded, push him up and down the mountainside, see if he'll give up the hiding place.
Or I'll beat it and the hell out of him.