Through the ashes, p.12
Through the Ashes, page 12
Ethan opened his door and leaned in, calling out to John. He wasn’t on the couch. Probably in the bathroom. He yelled for John to come outside when he was done.
“That’s okay, I can wait. Anyway, what time did you say you came home?”
“I didn’t,” he said. “But I think it was around seven.”
Klein nodded, wrote down Ethan’s answer, and then said, “The Fire Department thinks the explosion happened sometime around then. It would’ve been loud and probably caused a bit of a tremor, too. Are you sure you didn’t hear anything?”
“Nope. I was in bed asleep by eight or nine.” Ethan heard the bathroom door open from inside.
Suddenly, Klein’s attention was stolen from Ethan by a crackling voice coming over the radio strapped to his hip. Ethan hadn’t noticed it, despite its blocky appearance. “Klein, we need you back at the scene.”
“Ten-Four,” he said, speaking into a little device strapped to his shoulder. “I need to get going, but I’d like to talk more with you and your friend.” Klein handed Ethan a card from his breast pocket. “If you think of anything, give me a call. I’ll stop by again tomorrow.”
Ethan took the card, nodding. Klein bound down the two steps of the porch toward his unmarked SUV. The Suburban had been running. Ethan became envious that he was about to feel the warm blast of air in his vehicle. Klein backed the vehicle up and aimed it straight down the drive.
As he began to pull away, John came outside. “Did you ask for me?” His eyes caught the back end of the SUV. “Who was that?”
“The cops.”
“The cops? What did they want?”
Ethan turned back into the house; his feet burned from the cold. He started working on the stove to push the cold sting from his flesh.
“Hello?” John’s arms were folded across his chest; his back leaned against the closed door.
“Those drug dealer’s shack blew up last night. He wanted to know if we saw or heard anything. I told him we hadn’t.”
“Meth?”
Ethan nodded.
“Probably smoking around the cooking area,” John said matter-of-factly. He never practiced criminal law, but the way he spoke made it sound as if it was a circumstance he’d seen a thousand times.
“Probably.” Ethan knew that was a likely possibility. But there were other possibilities that were just as likely. They had crossed Vargas somehow, and he made an example out of them. Or he had done it as part of a bigger scheme. He had taken pictures of Ethan outside of their pusher’s house, a gun visible in his hands. That tied him to those dealers. If Vargas wanted, he could paint a convincing picture to the police that Ethan had robbed those kids and then torched the dealer’s house.
Ethan’s heart skipped a beat, making him woozy. The stabbing pain in his gut spread upward into his chest. He had to sit before he passed out.
“Do you think Beaver could’ve had something to do with it?” John asked, making his way to the couch.
“Why would he do it?”
“He was there, right? Maybe something happened between them,”
Ethan shook his head. “This feels like Vargas. It’s his M.O.”
“Well, things are escalating fast. With Vargas in the dark, you need to call that cop and tell him to get the feds out here. It’s only a matter of time before he comes after you next.”
“Then I guess we better find him before then.”
Ethan poked the logs in the stove. Movement outside of his window stole his attention. The snow was starting to dance downward toward the earth.
Chapter 28
“Something happened to cause him to get nervous,” John offered.
“Or he’s just lost all control. He wiped out most of his crew; every other cartel and law enforcement agency has him at the top of their list. He’s starting to get on edge.”
John shook his head, skeptical. “What doesn’t make sense is, if he has that many eyes on him, then why go through so much trouble to show you he can get right next to you without you knowing?”
Ethan had asked himself the same question moments before. He stood from beside the stove when his face became uncomfortably warm, causing sweat to bead under his hairline. “Maybe because getting to me means something more to him.”
“More than losing hundreds of millions of dollars? More than staying out of prison?” John walked over to the couch, taking a spot at the end before kicking his feet up onto the table. “Seems to me the payoff isn’t worth the risk. If this was just about you, he would’ve burned your house down like those hillbillies. Or shot you with something stronger than a camera lens.”
Ethan put his face in his hands. The burning had subsided from his chest, but it had doubled down in his stomach. He feared he was going to become sick sitting there. The heat from the stove suddenly made it hard to breathe.
“What are you not telling me?”
Ethan took a deep breath. Something under the surface began to boil. “Just drop it.”
“You need to start being honest. Why is Vargas going through so much trouble to get at you without making a move? That isn’t like him.”
“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it isn’t Vargas,” Ethan offered, hopeful John would let it drop. He knew he should’ve known it would never be that easy.
“Okay, then why would anyone go through all of this just to see you squirm?”
Ethan felt the boiling inside his stomach rise past his chest to his throat. He bit his lip, swallowing the anger, forcing the shame that replaced it down as well. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of. When your job is keeping an entire city safe, sometimes you must make deals to serve the greater good. Even if you know it means costing you everything you stand for.”
John leaned in, not speaking to make sure he wouldn’t interrupt.
When Ethan took his oath, he swore to uphold the law. It was an oath he took seriously. Over the years, though, he saw guilty men and women walk free, sometimes from technicalities, sometimes from lack of evidence, but mostly from scared witnesses too frightened to speak. He watched as people would visit the courtroom as frequently as he went to the grocery store. Each time, the charges became more serious. He saw murderers get off as if they had simply run a red light. He was tired of it. One day, Mary would be out in the world on her own, and she would have to witness the darkest parts of it. God forbid, she would experience it in all its horrendous reality. Ethan had never imagined that by trying to make a safer world for his daughter, the darkness he tried to protect her from would wind up right on his front step. That she would have to experience it most intimately.
“There was more to the deal with Vargas than anyone else knew,” Ethan said aloud.
“What was that, exactly?”
“On paper, it would’ve been ten years in federal prison, then ten years on probation.”
John nodded. “I remember the judge threw it out.”
“Right,” Ethan began to rock on the couch, the burning in his stomach was not getting better. “Vargas gave me five million cash to make sure he would serve time in Terre Haute.” Ethan paused, swallowed the painfulness of his naïveté back then. “He said medium security where he had a lot of associates. He could continue running his cartel from there and have the security to back his move. He would’ve been out in five, at most.”
“He gave you five million but not to stay out of prison?”
“I didn’t know until later that he was going to organize a rescue. The bus would’ve taken 65 North from downtown to Terre Haute. If the ambush happened on the highway, they could’ve gone in any direction before backup arrived. Hide a second vehicle on one of the country roads nearby. He could’ve gotten away clean. A lot easier to pull off headed to a medium-security facility than a maximum one. That’s why he needed me to make the deal. He played me.”
“Why would you agree to that anyway?”
Ethan lowered his head as the shame nearly suffocated him. He stammered as he answered, “I made him promise to keep his runs out of Indiana. If he came back, he would get life.”
John leaned closer. He felt like a towering force next to Ethan, who felt as though he were shrinking.
“Once the deal was turned down, he knew he would be restricted from outside contact and not be told where he was going until the transfer was arranged. He wouldn’t have been able to contact anyone to change the plans. He blamed me because I promised it would happen.”
“Why didn’t he just tell the judge about the money? That would’ve fucked your whole life up.”
“Well,” Ethan choked out, “He did a pretty good job of that without telling anyone anything.”
John leaned back, giving Ethan some room. He no longer felt suffocated, but the rock in his throat refused to budge. “Obviously, you couldn’t say anything.”
Ethan shook his head in acknowledgment. “Obviously.”
“Did Kristina know?”
Ethan brought his eyes up. “No. I’ve never told anyone this,” the tears he had been fighting back broke over the edge of his eyes. His voice dropped, trembling as he spoke. “She was going to leave me. I think part of me also took the money so I could stop working so much. I could give more of myself to my family.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Not something you want to share with the world. That I had neglected my family so severely my wife was ready to leave.”
“What happened to the money after all of that?”
“It’s somewhere safe. I don’t feel right using it, but I can’t just turn it in. I certainly can’t give it back.”
“How’d he get it to you?”
“I rented a boat on Morse Reservoir. I met one of his guys on the lake and he gave me a bag with all the money. The next morning, I started drafting the plea deal. That afternoon, everything fell apart.”
“That’s not good, Ethan.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Ethan screamed out. “If I hadn’t agreed to his deal, my family would still be here! They’re dead because of me.”
John shook his head. “They’re dead because of Vargas. You could never have known what would happen.”
“That’s bullshit. I should’ve known nothing good would’ve come from it. I should’ve known once the judge threw the deal out, I was finished.” Ethan ran the back of his hand across his face to wipe the tears. “I wish he’d just told the judge I’d taken the bribe. At least then, my family would still be here.”
“You don’t know that,” John told him.
“That’s why I don’t want the feds involved. I want to be the one to take him down. I don’t want this to end until one or the other of us is dead.”
John took a deep breath. He moved his hands to his knees as leverage to help him stand. “I’m going to step outside for some fresh air. That’s a lot to process.” John removed his phone from his pocket, tossing it onto the couch beside Ethan. “So you know I’m not out there calling anyone.”
A sudden wave of relief hit Ethan. It was as if a pressure valve had been twisted, releasing everything that had been building up inside of him. His body suddenly felt weak as the tension in his muscles left. “I know.”
⸙
From the window, Ethan could see John sitting by the firepit. He was bundled up in a coat, his hands deep in his pockets as thick snowflakes fluttered down on top of him... He seemed to be staring off into the woods, presumably trying to process the new information. He had known Ethan his entire career. Ethan had always been ethical, a pursuer of justice, believing no man was above the law. Ethan couldn’t begin to guess how betrayed John felt learning everything Ethan stood for had such a low price. Or, that it had a price at all. It had all become so tiring. Justice was becoming a losing battle. No matter how many criminals he put away, three more popped up. More violent, more ruthless, and with less morals—or at least the flawed concept of morals. Vargas had been one of the worst. Ethan just wanted him gone. Doing so, he knew, meant doing something immoral. If he had taken him to trial, it was only a 50/50 chance he would’ve seen any actual jail time. He was lucky he had convinced Vargas he would lose a trial. Otherwise, Vargas would’ve walked out free. He knew Vargas would continue to poison the streets of his city, killing innocent people with his drugs and the inherent violence that came with doing business. He did what he thought he had to do to stop it. He should’ve known there was no way to stop it. There was only a speed bump in the process.
Ethan pulled himself from the window. He went to the fridge, where he pulled a topographical map he had placed under a magnet. He used the map to track hunting lines, where cameras had been placed, and where he had seen deer. Now, he needed it to track Vargas. He guessed if he had been at the motel, he wouldn’t be going back there. He certainly couldn’t go back to the shed. However, the public land around them offered a lot of concealment. He was also confident that if they were cooking meth as well as moving drugs through their shack, they probably had another building somewhere in the woods that couldn’t be traced back to them. Vargas never operated without multiple places to go to if any heat came his way. Ethan hadn’t explored much of the woods beyond his property line and some portions of the public land that separated his property from Beaver’s.
The map covered his property primarily but also included a sliver of Beaver’s, as well as the public section of land beyond the ridge toward the property of the pushers. From the topographical map, he could tell the terrain on his property was mostly flat. Once at the ridge moving beyond the now burned-down shack, the terrain was much hillier. Elevation changes of 300 feet or more surrounded the area. Vargas made a fortune smuggling, so Ethan knew he would be avoiding the higher elevations. It made it easier for any drones flying overhead to spot his heat signature, especially as the temperatures continued to drop. The fresh falling snow would make his body heat, plus the fires he would need to stay warm, light up like a Christmas tree on the thermals.
Ethan knew there were no caves in the area for him to hunker down in to conceal body heat or movement. That left the lower valleys between the towering hills where his body heat would be slightly shielded by the treetops, especially now that they were being coated with snowfall. Based on the map, Mark and Gus’s property reached just to the opposite side of the ridge, then out for five acres. It went back before wrapping around like a big square. Fifteen total acres, with about five acres separating the three neighbors’ property lines. The land to the west, behind Beaver’s property line, looked to be state land, but it had been color-coded differently than the designated public land. It was hilly, but there was one section of lowland between two large hills. Ethan grabbed a marker that had been clipped to the top of the map, circling the section twice. It was the most likely place for Vargas to hide out until he either decided to jump ship or confront Ethan.
The area would be shielded from drones with tall, thick trees—now covered in a quarter inch of snow and counting—provided water from the creek, and if Vargas walked the valley four miles south, he would eventually come to a road. He could hitchhike out or have someone pick him up from there. Ethan did a quick measurement, calculating that it was five miles from his cabin. He assumed he could get there in a little over ninety minutes with the snowfall. Except, the snow showed no signs of slowing down. It could get much worse, making travel that much more difficult.
Plus, he thought to himself, what was he going to do if Vargas was there? Hunt him down like a deer? It would be the easiest method. Sit tucked away behind a tree fifty yards away, one shot would end the whole thing. But shooting a man, even an evil, vile man like Vargas was not the same thing as shooting a deer. If he confronted Vargas, he could wait for him to pull his gun. That would be clear-cut self-defense. He could achieve the same result without the guilt, which he had in spades over other decisions he had made in his life.
Ethan folded the map, putting it into his back pocket before heading back to his room. He went into the closet, pulling on a pair of long johns followed by jeans. He slid on his boots, a thick sweater, topped with his hunting jacket. He stopped, looking at the bear he had left in the chair the night before. Then, he went to the front door to retrieve his rifle. He and John had a long walk ahead of them.
Chapter 29
John came out of the cabin ten minutes later in several more layers than what he went in with. “This must be the worst idea you’ve ever come up with. If you think he’s there, why not just tell the police? It keeps us warm while at the same time getting him into the cell he belongs in. You haven’t spent the money, at this point, it’s your word against his. I don’t think there’s a cop out there who’d doubt you.”
“Even if all that is true, he’s already on edge. Which means he’ll be making his move soon. If the cops go in, they’ll go in with a small army, choppers, drones, all of it. If he gets spooked, we have no idea where he’ll end up. Then I’m spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.” Ethan slung his rifle over his shoulder, locking his door. “If we go, we can maybe catch him off guard. I can make sure I can actually start over. Like I’ve been trying to for the past year.”
“Maybe you should ask Beaver to go with you. He’d be more useful to you than I will be.”
“If you’re scared, you can stay here.” Ethan descended the steps of his porch, rounding the eastern side of the house. The wind gathered his hair as it collected large flakes, chilling his scalp. He pulled a beanie from his coat pocket, tugging it down to just over his eyes. The snow nearly reached the vamp of his boots. There was no sign of slowing down. He guessed by the time they returned, there would be at least four to six inches of snow on the ground.
