Through the ashes, p.14
Through the Ashes, page 14
“Mind if we head inside? It’s a little cold out here.”
“Did you knock when you got here? My buddy should be inside,” as the words left his mouth, he realized he hadn’t noticed any smoke billowing out of the chimney.
“Mmhmm, no answer.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Five minutes, if that.”
Ethan waved Klein to follow him as he led the way to the door. It was unlocked. Ethan went inside, placing his rifle by the door. His key was on the counter, which he retrieved. “John,” he called out. There was no response. He noticed the wood stove was not lit.
“Everything all right?” Klein asked.
“He should be here,” Ethan nearly buckled with the knot twisting in his stomach. “Since you’re here, I’d like to file a missing person report.”
Klein retrieved his notepad with a pen tucked into the spiral binding. “I’ll jot his name down. It’s too soon to file a report, but you can call me in a couple of days and I’ll file it.”
“He said he was coming back here; he’s not here. Isn’t that the definition of missing?”
“Look, I assume he’s a grown man. He could’ve gone into town, gone back home, or gone for a walk. Besides, we are bogged down with what’s happening on the other side of the ridge right now.”
“Some meth cooks blow up their cabin and that’s more important than a missing person?”
Klein slid the notepad back into his pocket. “If that’s all it was, then no. But a lot has happened since we spoke earlier this morning.”
“What could’ve happened that makes it more important?” Ethan could feel his fists clenching. He bit down on the back of his bottom lip to displace the tension, which only barely helped.
“I’m not saying it’s more important. Just that currently, all resources are being put into that investigation, and you don’t even know if your friend is actually missing. But over there, not only do we have a major manufacturing and distribution of drugs going on, but we discovered a body.”
Ethan’s throat tightened more. He swallowed hard to prevent his stomach from revolting. “In the burn site?”
Klein shook his head, his eyes glued to Ethan. “Behind the house in a shallow grave. The dogs sniffed it out. Luckily, they found it before the snow got too bad. The guy had been killed and probably buried around the same time as the fire started.”
“Who was it?”
“Your friend, Angel Vargas.”
Ethan’s heart felt like it stopped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I ran a check on you after we spoke this morning—standard procedure. Do you believe in coincidences, Mr. Barret?”
“I… I guess so.”
“I don’t. Never have. I find it quite interesting that a drug dealer burns down your house, tragically with your family inside. The next year, some drug dealer’s shack is burned down and the man suspected in your case is found in a shallow grave less than twenty feet away.”
“Well… I… I heard that Vargas had made a lot of enemies back home. He is probably on the hit list of dozens of capable people.”
Klein nodded in agreement. “Probably. But you’re the only one we know who lives on the other side of the ridge from where it all went down. Conveniently, you say you weren’t home at the time of the fire. Like I said, Mr. Barret, I don’t believe in coincidence.”
“They could’ve been the ones who killed Vargas. They go inside to cook their next batch, someone lights up a cigarette, and the whole place goes up.”
Klein pointed a finger at Ethan as if the puzzle had been solved. “I like that theory. It fits everything. Except for one detail.”
“What’s that?”
“An accelerant was used in the back of the house. It’s most likely gasoline. Nothing special about gas being used, but the location is the same as in your case as well.”
Ethan’s thoughts went back to John. Ethan grew more concerned than he had been when he found the house empty. “Whoever is responsible is probably the same person who took John. If you’d get your head out of your ass and find him, you’d probably find whoever is responsible. Instead, you’re so focused on pointing your finger at me, that you’re going to get him killed!”
“I’m going to need you to calm down, Mr. Barret. If he doesn’t show up in a couple of days, we’ll start an investigation. Maybe even send the dogs out here to sniff around.”
Ethan was biting on his lip to the point a metallic tang hit the tip of his tongue. “Are you suggesting I had something to do with his disappearance?”
“I’m simply saying we will make sure all bases are covered.”
“If Vargas was a loose end, then someone above him was behind the hit on my family. Also, behind the fire out here and Vargas’s murder.”
“We will be checking into all of that, trust me.”
“I think you should go now. I may not practice law anymore, but I’m still aware of my rights. If you have anything else to say to me, you can call me. I’ll be busy doing your job though, so I may not be available.”
“Just make sure you don’t drift too far from here,” Klein growled as he let himself out.
When he was alone, Ethan started a fire in the stove to warm himself. The air inside the cabin was only slightly warmer than outside. The thoughts racing through his mind were indecipherable from one to the next. Either someone was setting him up, everything had been a coincidence, or someone was targeting him for something else. Either way, he had been wrong the whole time.
All of that, though, took a backseat to the dominating thought. Where had John gone? Where would he even start to look? He could’ve been taken anywhere by anyone.
Chapter 32
Once Ethan felt warm again, he went to the kitchen. He grabbed his flashlight, flipped the switch to check the battery, and then stuffed it into his pocket. Then he grabbed his binoculars, pulling them over his neck to lie on his chest. Ethan grabbed his rifle, slinging it over his shoulder before stepping outside and locking the door behind him. He looked out to the driveway, noticing John’s car was still there. He had been so focused on Klein leaning against his, he hadn’t thought to look at John’s. He just suspected it was there, and since nothing stood out to him more than Klein being there, the idea to verify it hadn’t moved never crossed his mind. Now, it didn’t matter. Wherever John had gone—or been taken—didn’t involve his vehicle.
The sun was beginning to set. Just enough light cast over the treetops and reflected from the snow’s surface he could see his driveway clearly. Since the snow had stopped thirty minutes before, any tracks that had been left within the past couple of hours would be noticeable. Ethan started with the drive, which showcased one distinct set of tracks, which he knew were Detective Klein’s. The thick tire marks distinctly belonging to an SUV. Klein had even driven closely over the same path to leave as he did when he arrived, making it that much easier to spot.
Between the heavy snow and winds, most of the foot traffic leading up to the cabin, particularly on the porch, was long gone. A few prints remained in the yard, marked by nearly indistinct indents of the snow where Ethan and Klein had walked up to the house, vanishing halfway between the driveway and the porch.
Ethan didn’t think it would make sense for John to walk off into the woods on his own. He had already gotten lost once. Attempting to go out on his own in the middle of a heavy snowstorm was idiotic, and not something John would’ve risked. But if someone had come for him, they would be just as foolish. If they had come in on some sort of ATV, Ethan suspected he would’ve seen some tracks. However, three hours had passed from when Ethan sent John back and he returned. A lot of time for someone to come take John while the snowfall covered any trace of them being there.
Ethan decided the only chance he would have was to ask Beaver. He hated the idea of burdening the man any further. Of course, he reasoned, he only needed to ask his advice. He didn’t need him to tag along this time. In fact, there may not be anywhere to tag along to. Ethan bit at his lips again, desperate to suppress the warming feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hated the feeling of losing control. What he hated most of all was knowing if he had answered his phone just once a few days ago, much of this could’ve been avoided.
⸙
He walked up Beaver’s driveway, pleased to smell the burning wood from the stove. It was strong with plumes of smoke wafting from the chimney, which meant the fire was strong. It was fresh. Ethan bound up the steps, his toes losing feeling after the quarter-mile hike through ankle-deep snow. Ethan knew the weather would take a turn in the coming days, causing most of the snow to melt. For now, though, it was cold and unforgiving.
Ethan gave a solid knock on the door. After a moment of rustling from inside, the door opened wide. Beaver had a cigar hanging between the part in his white beard. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”
Ethan followed Beaver into the cabin, sitting in an open chair near the wood stove to thaw his feet. “A lot’s happened since then.”
Beaver gave him an unnerved look.
“That detective was at my cabin waiting for me when I got back. The guy we were looking for was murdered around the same time the house burned. They think I might’ve had something to do with it.”
Beaver nodded, unfazed. “Makes sense.”
“Well, that’s not even the biggest problem. I’ve had a buddy staying with me for the past few days. He was gone when I got back, but his car was still parked in my driveway. I don’t have any way of knowing what happened, and I’m concerned. The detective blew me off when I asked to file a report.”
Beaver nodded. “Do you think he just walked off? Or do you think it has somethin’ to do with what happened to them boys over the ridge?”
“I don’t think he went off in the woods on his own if that’s what you’re asking. He’s not that stupid.”
“What do you need from me?” Beaver brought down a bottle of Jack Daniels from a cupboard twisting the lid as he did. He took a heavy swig from the top, extending it out to Ethan. Ethan shook his head.
“I’m thinking they took him alive. There wasn’t a struggle. They didn’t leave a body. Is there anywhere around here they could’ve taken him to hold him until they got to me?”
Beaver thought for only a moment. “There’s a cabin about two miles down from here. Been empty as long as I’ve been here. Probably not in good shape, but ain’t nowhere else I can think of.”
“Who all knows about it?”
Beaver shrugged. “I guess anyone who has one of them phone apps. If they were lookin’ at the lay of the land to get a good idea of the terrain, they’d have seen the overgrowth of the road and probably the cabin, too.”
“There’s nowhere else they might’ve taken him?”
“Not that’s private. I think all the other cabins and houses out here have folks livin’ in ‘em.”
“What about Mark and Gus? Anyone they might’ve associated with that would want them dead and John just got caught in the crossfire?”
Beaver scratched his beard searching for an answer. “I don’t know who all they had business with. But no matter who it was, I can’t see no one going out to your place to take your friend over it. Especially with them already dealt with.”
Ethan’s mind went to the two college kids. But the idea quickly faded as the image of their terrified faces crept into his memory. They wouldn’t have had the guts to pull off any of this. An associate of Vargas, perhaps, but Ethan wasn’t sure how he or John would fall into their plan of retribution.
“You tried callin’ the man?”
Ethan bit his lip again, wincing at the pain of the now raw spot he had created. “I didn’t think about that.”
“I say try that, if you don’t get no answer then consider lookin’ in that old cabin. But even then, might be best to hold up two days, then let the police go search for ‘im.”
“I can’t wait that long. If something happens to him, I’ll never be able to live with myself. I let my family down. I can’t let him down, too.”
Beaver shrugged. “Suit yourself. Just swing by here when you make your decision and I’ll tag along.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
Beaver let out a wet chuckle. “This the most excitement my old ass has seen in a while. Beats anything else I had goin’ on.”
“I appreciate that. I’ll go back home to call him. Hopefully, he answers and it’s all just a big overreaction.” Ethan could feel it wasn’t. Someone had gotten John out of the cabin. What if they had been in there waiting? When John came back, they could’ve ambushed him, leaving no time to react. That would explain why there hadn’t been any sign of an altercation. Also, how they got him out of the cabin in the first place.
“Keep me in the loop,” Beaver said, following Ethan to the front door.
“I will,” Ethan lied. He knew he wouldn’t call on Beaver unless he had to. He’d disrupted the man’s life enough.
⸙
Ethan knew by the time he got to the vacant cabin the sun would be well below the horizon. He would have nothing but the moon to guide him. If someone was in the cabin, he didn’t want to risk using the flashlight. It would tell them exactly where he was, which was the last thing he needed. He had already talked himself out of waiting until morning. If John was there, either by force or because he had somehow gotten lost, he didn’t want him there any longer than he already had been.
Ethan decided to leave the main road to enter the woods on the right side. He knew the land would be more even, so even with the snow he would remain on relatively stable footing. The left side had a slight grade, which would increase his likelihood of either falling or creating noise. Ethan continued along his path for fifty yards before stopping at a log. He could see the silhouette of the cabin against the backdrop of snow-covered trees.
The siding of the cabin appeared to be in relatively good condition—all things considered. However, the roof appeared to be sagging in the middle, which caused the far walls to bow inward. The right end of the house had begun to sink into the earth, at some point being reinforced by large stones. He could see tracks of some sort of vehicle near the house, though from his position, it was impossible to tell what had caused them. He raised his binoculars from their resting place at his chest. Ethan peered through the eyepieces to the cabin. The magnification offered little assistance, certainly not what he had hoped for. The tracks still only looked like lines in the glowing snow. The house still looked blacked out in the night. However, he was able to confirm that no lights were on inside. He went back and forth in his mind for a moment on whether it was worth the risk to go in. If someone was staying there, they could return any moment. If the house didn’t cave in first. But the deciding factor, the thought that pushed him from his place behind the log and toward the house, was that if there was any chance John was inside, he needed to check.
Ethan made it a point to stay near the thicker parts of the underbrush and fallen logs, limiting his tracks. In places where he had no choice but to step in the undisturbed snow, he would brush the surrounding snow back into his track.
Ethan kneeled behind a fallen log, propped up by a large boulder that had split down the center, assumingly from the weight of the tree when it fell. The tree had just missed the structure by feet. From this distance, he could see the finer details of the cabin. The builder had used wood planks for the siding, and while most were still intact, large sections had rotted out, leaving fist-sized holes randomly dispersed all around. At least one window had been shattered. Ethan couldn’t imagine anyone staying there. The difficulty of keeping the place warm with all the drafts would be challenging enough. The risk of the structure caving in from the bowed walls and sagging roof made it a risk hardly worth taking.
Ethan decided to continue around to the back of the cabin. Behind it, he found a door and another window, which had been shattered out at some point. This one had been covered with a blanket, that looked in much better condition than he had expected one to look had it been there for years.
Ethan walked up to the blanket-covered window, pulled the sheet to the side, and climbed through; confident no one was inside. To his disbelief, the wood floors were sturdy. At least the portion he found himself on. Ethan grabbed his flashlight, flipping it on to fill the darkness. The room he had entered looked to be a kitchen. There were no modern appliances, so he suspected the house had been abandoned long before they became common. Or the previous occupants simply decided to forego them. There were paper plates on a wooden table against the far wall, he could tell they had recently been brought in. His heartbeat echoed from the walls as a new kind of cold entered his blood.
Ethan turned his light in the opposite direction to a doorway. He followed his beam toward it, testing each step before committing to it. Once he passed through the doorway, he found himself in what felt like a living room. The shattered window, as well as the two long rotted boards of siding, had been stuffed with rags or blankets. Directly to the left of the door was a table with sheets of something on top. Ethan turned his focus to the table, taking the pages into his hand before realizing they were photos.
The photos were of the shack burning, taken from no more than 100 yards. Ethan struggled to tell the true distance because the darkness around the flames offered no depth perception. He also wasn’t sure if they had been taken with some sort of telescoping lens. Half a dozen photos of the house burning, one with a shadowed figure watching, stood between the photographer and the house.
Ethan wondered if there were pictures of Vargas’s murder, too. It was something he would have loved to see, but also the idea of it sent a surge of fear through him. The photographer had been there when the shack had been torched and when Vargas had been murdered. They were likely involved, but they were also following him. They could get close to these situations without detection. Ethan might never see them coming. They were on a mission to clean up a mess, leaving no piece left behind.
