Behind the Walls Read Online Free PDF Page A

something. How’s dinner Thursday night?’
    Wait. Dinner? ‘Burke, I’m married.’ The words popped out of her mouth, unplanned. As if she’d assumed he’d wanted a date. Harper felt her face get hot.
    Burke was laughing. An unpleasant, high-pitched sound. ‘Well, congratulations. But I’m not asking for your hand. Just for dinner.’
    ‘I didn’t mean—’
    ‘How about drinks then? A beer. Or lunch. Or coffee. Or frozen yogurt.’
    ‘What do you want to talk to me about?’
    He paused. ‘It’s not for the phone. Seriously. It’s big. And I need to talk to you in person.’
    A squirrel raced by, ran up a tree. Harper stared after it as it disappeared into dwindling orange leaves. In Iraq’s stark sands, she’d missed the trees, the colors of summer and fall. She pictured it, that final patrol. Watching a car speed up to the checkpoint. Seeing a woman in a burqa crossing the street. And then, the sensation of flying through heat and fire. She remembered it clearly, even the smells of smoke and burnt flesh, but her memories were just that: memories. Not flashbacks. Everett’s unexpected voice had stirred up the past but hadn’t entirely revived it. It wasn’t engulfing her. At least, not yet.
    ‘Harper? You there?’
    ‘Yes.’ Well, sort of.
    ‘I’m just asking for half an hour – an hour at the most. You’ll understand when we talk.’
    She didn’t answer. She tasted sand, felt it coating her sweaty skin. Heard Burke’s voice only vaguely. Maybe she’d been too hasty deciding she wasn’t having flashbacks.
    ‘ . . . wouldn’t bother you after all this time  . . . wouldn’t have come all the way from Milwaukee  . . .’
    ‘Fine.’ Harper closed her eyes, bit her lip, concentrated on the pain of teeth puncturing skin to avoid falling into the past.
    ‘Fine?’
    ‘Yes. Fine. I’ll meet you Thursday. Three o’clock. Ithaca Bakery.’
    ‘Great, Harper. I’ll be there—’ Burke began. But Harper ended the call, tossed her phone into her bag and zoomed off on her Ninja before he finished his goodbye.
    Harper roared downhill through the edge of town, heading out along Lake Cayuga, thinking about the phone call. Trying to figure out what Burke Everett wanted. In the war, he’d been a wimp. A tall, lanky guy, always keeping his head down, bucking tough details. Complaining even about the easy ones. Not someone she’d want protecting her back. Not someone she’d spent much time with.
    So why was he calling her now? It had been – what? Seven? Eight years since she’d seen him? What could he want?
    Harper didn’t want to think about Iraq. Didn’t want to remember. She’d spent years trying to recover from her injuries, still had a bad leg. Not to mention the flashbacks. She’d been better lately, not having as many. Leslie, her shrink, had helped, had shown her how to diminish their intensity, employing scents, sensations or sharp flavors to keep focused on the present. She wondered if Burke Everett had flashbacks. No, probably not. Burke hadn’t risked much, usually had soft duty, chauffeuring visiting brass through the Green Zone or base camps. He’d never been wounded. Had never seen his buddies blown up by IEDs or suicide bombers. Again, Harper saw the woman crossing the street, approaching the detail of soldiers at the checkpoint. White heat flashed, and Harper felt herself fly.
    But this time, she was flying past the lake, not through the air. And the noise was the engine of her Ninja, not bursts of explosives. She needed to stay grounded. In the moment. To focus on colored leaves. Traffic. The cloudless sky and crisp air. Anything except Iraq.
    Her mind, however, remained on precisely that. The past. And the unexpected reappearance of someone she’d almost forgotten. Someone she’d chosen not to stay in contact with. Why had Burke Everett called? What could he possibly want? Harper was so intent on those questions that it wasn’t until she turned on to the unpaved