Taut: The Ford Book

“I’m leaving,” I tell them. “Just get out of my way, I’m leaving.” They pull up a few cars and then stop again, waiting to see if I pull out. I do. I whip a bitch and go the other way. If they are conscientious cops they should probably pull me over for that little move. Check out why the f**k I’d do something like that right in front of them. Maybe threaten me a little, write me a ticket. But they don’t. I check the rear-view and they’re already gone before I get to a little curve in the road, so I whip another bitch and pull over again.

“What the f**k just happened?” I just spent a week with a girl and her baby. Everything was awesome and now… she just walks away? I grab my phone and call the number she put in.

Errr-reeee-eeeeet. The number you have dialed is not in service. Please hang up and try your—

Fucking figured that much. The girl lives in Japan, she has no LA area code number.

I let out a long breath and shake my head. “Fuck!” I look down at the building again. I can’t see shit, too many trees. And I’m just about to pull out and go see if I can get inside and somehow figure out where Tony lives when I see the stroller going down the road towards Strathmore. I watch and wait and when she gets there, she crosses that street and then continues down Strathmore towards Veteran.

I pull out and drive slowly after her. Where the f**k is she going?

I pull back into the red zone I just left and park the truck, then jump out and walk after her. This is a fairly quiet neighborhood, so there’s no one around. When I get down to Strathmore and look for her, she’s already walking around the corner of Veteran. I jog after her because obviously this was not the building where Tony lives. She gave me the wrong address so I wouldn’t know where she was going.

When I get to the corner I almost expect her to be gone, disappeared like a ghost. But she’s still walking. And if the clouds weren’t black with the threat of a storm, she’d look like just another mother out for an afternoon stroll with her baby. I follow, staying back quite a ways, and she goes past a slew of apartment buildings. I jog a little to catch up and she crosses another driveway leading into the one of the large complexes that line one whole side of the street. I’m just about to give up being stealthy when she stops, looks both ways, and crosses Veteran. I keep walking, my eyes glued to her small body as she maneuvers the stroller over the curb and then approaches a gate in the long wrought-iron fence that lines that side of the street.

Oh.

Fuck.

No.

My heart crashes as she turns the handle and pulls the gate open, props it against her hip, and pushes the stroller through.

I want to drop to the ground, that’s how much this hurts me. My chest is one gaping hole right now, and I don’t even know how to process what I’m seeing.

Because Ashleigh just walked into the Los Angeles National Cemetery.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Tony is dead.

That’s all I think about as I run back to the Bronco.

Tony is dead.

He didn’t leave her, he f**king died while serving. And she was left overseas in a foreign country, all alone, pregnant, trapped.

My hands are shaking so bad when I get to the truck I can barely push the key in the ignition. The Bronco starts up and I take a breath to calm my racing heart.

Ashleigh. I need to get to her. Now.

I pull out and almost hit a f**king UPS truck. The guy honks and screams something derogatory at me as he passes by.

Calm down, Ford. Fuck. You’re no help to her if you’re dead too.

I follow the same route I did walking, but when I get to the gate it hits me. There’s no way to get in on this side of the cemetery. I have to go all the way down to Wilshire and drive around. I try and look for Ashleigh and the stroller, but I can’t see her and pay attention to the traffic at the same time. The turn lane I need to be in on Wilshire is impossible to get to because the far right lane is also the f**king on-ramp to the 405 and it’s backed up past the street I’m currently on, so it takes me almost ten f**king minutes to make it to the cemetery entrance. I drive in cautiously, trying to decide which way to go. This place is massive—nothing but white headstones. Row after row after row of white headstones.

I decide to hit the gate where she came in and go from there. That’s just straight back from the entrance, so I drive slowly, looking out both sides as I creep along. A large thunderclap jars me for a second and then the bolt of lightning that follows send eerie shadows across the darkening sky. I get to the end of the road and it just curves around in a loop so I stop and get out, then climb on top of the truck and look out over the sea of dead soldiers.

“Fuck, Ash. Where the hell did you go?” The rain starts as the last word leaves my mouth so I jump back in and drive. I go right this time, towards a large palm tree that looks like it’s wearing the wrong uniform in a platoon of eucalyptus and scrub oaks. I follow this road as the rain pelts the roof and I can barely see anything. I slow down some more, take another road off to the left, and search both sides. I’m just about to give up and move to another part of the cemetery when I see her—way off in another section, just heading under some large trees. Another clap of thunder gets my ass in gear and I’m already heading that way when the next bolt of lightning flashes. I lose sight of her for a few seconds as I follow the road, but then the stroller pops into view again.

Ashleigh is nowhere to be found.

I panic. What the hell just happened?