Excerpt from Treeborne by Caleb Johnson, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Ren called Sheriff Aaron Guthrie and asked to meet at the trailer. Then he called the library to let Nita know what was going on. She boo-hooed into the phone. Ren didn't know how to comfort her. In this respect he was not the best husband.

When they got to the trailer, biscuit crumbs yet clung to the sheriff's navy-blue shirt. He was built like many Elberta men: a gut, twig-legs and thinning hair. He and Wooten searched inside the trailer. Meanwhile, Ren walked down at the mailbox.

Among the usual grocery store flyers set a peach pit. Couldn't of been but a handful of days removed from a fruit's flesh. Ren carried the pit inside. The sheriff held it up to his face like a jeweler would a diamond. "How long you say she's missing for?"

"Five days," Ren said.

The sheriff grunted. He had plenty of questions, namely how come they'd waited so long before telling him. Aaron Guthrie was good at his job without going so overboard he didn't have time to fish De Soto Lake, or sit around The Fencepost and bullshit two meals a day.

"I was ashamed for anybody to know."

"But you told your brother here?"

"Brother-in-law," Ren said, wishing he'd just bit his tongue.

The sheriff held up the peach pit again. "And this was in the mailbox?"

"She's gone off to Hollywood," Wooten said. He sat down in the recliner chair and the frame groaned. "That's what she's done to me."

"You ought to of said something right off the bat," the sheriff said. "Now what else ain't you told?"

Wooten began crying, his good hand cupping his forehead and the bad one pressed against his bearded jaw.

"The dog," Ren said.

"I don't know where Martin is neither!"

"I'll call Connie," the sheriff said. "Get his hound over here."

The three men smoked cigarettes while waiting for Big Connie Ward and his black-and-tan Troop to arrive. A crayon-green lizard crawled across the porch then up the heat-cracked banister. The lizard gazed at the men in unrepentant fashion before disappearing behind the trailer's aluminum siding as if it was no more real than magic.

"I'll have to carry you in and get this all on the record," the sheriff said.

"Fuck you Aaron."

"This right here ain't good enough?" Ren asked.

"There's appearances I got to keep."

"Fuck you straight to hell," Wooten said.

"Heard you was down at ball practice yesterday."

Wooten sniffled and blew smoke.

"Broke that Winchell boy's leg clean in two."

Wooten sat on the porch steps. "I just want my wife back home with me."

"Then you best start helping me goddamn it."

Wooten tried to recall the last time he'd seen Tammy. His memory skirted away though, not wanting to be caught and dissected. He realized how little he marked what seemed like, in the present, ordinary days. They hadn't fought more than usual, he said. Sure, they fought, who didn't, but he never laid a hand on her. Not once. He thought he remembered her tanning her legs by the pool. That white swimsuit. She wasn't acting particularly odd, not that he could tell. Didn't Treebornes always act somewhat odd? Sorry. He looked at Ren. None intended. The keys to her pickup truck right yonder on the counter. That's right, smooched her cheek then left to fill up the gas cans so I wouldn't have to do it come morning. Call and ask Dennis down at the Pump-N-Save! Dennis would remember. Would of filled up the cans earlier but I had to drop off the Crews boy down at Livingstown on the way home then—

"What about him?" Ren said. "Talk to Lyle and see what he remembers."

The sheriff ignored this suggestion. "Reckon it could be to do with her momma?" he asked. "You know how women get whenever somebody passes."

The heat was rolling waves off the gravel and dirt driveway time Big Connie Ward pulled up in a red pickup truck. When Troop stepped down from the cab Wooten held out one of Tammy's silk nightgowns for him to sniff. The hound found no signs of her but soon discovered Martin's remains in the woods just beyond the yard. Troop grabbed the poor dog's body and shook. Plump maggots and shiny black beetles tumbled out of Martin's innards like candy from a piñata till Big Connie wopped Troop upside the skull and said quit it. The hound tucked tail then and sat, holding high his flat head and panting.

Excerpted from Treeborne by Steven Johnson. Copyright © 2018 by Steven Johnson. Excerpted by permission of Picador. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.