Home Fires

by W L Ripley

  One good clear print looked about a size 14 and two smaller footprints. Jake removed loose twigs and leaves from the large one, very carefully. Used his cell cam to photograph the prints and tire marks. That done, he cut up a heavy cardboard computer box he found in the garage and made a ring around the print. He mixed up a bowl of Plaster of Paris and after spraying the prints with a can of men’s hairspray so the plaster wouldn’t stick, he poured the mixture into the cardboard ring until the print was full and the pasty mix touched the cardboard. This would make a negative cast. It was the old school method, but it would do the job. He did the same with a good tire print. Now he had one of each. Whether that would lead anywhere was another guess. Could be anything and probably nothing but it was a start.

  He left the casts to dry and did a sweep of the house Gage had lived in the last few months. Find something, anything.

  He pulled the comforter off the bed, examined the sheets, pulled them then checked the mattress. Tiny brown spots. Blood? Maybe, but it may not mean anything. Thinking about getting Sue, his lab tech friend, to run a test but maybe he was pushing it too much, him gone and their relationship hitting that blip where both went different ways.

  Too early for making the assumption about blood? Missing personal files, the land-buy off and Gage’s death had gears grinding in his head. He didn’t believe in gut reactions but his were making a racket.

  So, he called Sue.

  “What now?” she said, when she answered. “You need a favor, right?”

  He admitted it.

  “Knew it,” Sue said. He could hear her low laugh. “What is it this time?”

  He told her about the blood on the mattress and she told him to send him the samples. “Also, send me something with your friend, Mister Burnell’s, DNA on it for comparison and a sample of yours for a control variable.”

  “Like what?” Jake asked.

  “Your friend’s toothbrush or comb. The blood samples, you know how to do that. And from you anything like that but no used condoms.”

  Playing with him.

  “Something else,” Jake said. “Run some tire print photos I can text you see what kind of tires left the marks. Also, can you run records on a guy named Noah Haller? Born here in Paradise?”

  “Whatever tickles you just suits me to death,” she said, turning the idiom upside down.

  Two in the afternoon Tommy Mitchell was shit-faced and buzzing like a cheap clock. He was supposed to be doing his foreman job at Mitchell feed elevator but what the hell, huh?; he was the boss and they owned the damned place, could do what he wanted. He stopped at a liquor store and picked up a twelve-pack of Coors and a pint of Jim Beam.

  And man, did Mr. Beam slide down easy after a couple of beers.

  He was still worked up after going out to the asshole’s place and needed to level out. That Morgan asshole had some mouth, threatening him as if Tommy was nobody harshening Tommy’s mellow. The guy giving him tough guy looks like he knew Tommy and knew things about him. He’d love to get the guy down and work on him. But how? The guy had been all over him and Haller the other night. So fast.

  There was another cunt needed an attitude fix besides Harper. His sister-in-law, Pam. She’d be ticked off he was drinking, always on his ass and she took big bites; but he avoided her when he could. Way he saw it you wore a tampon every 28 days you weren’t in charge of shit.

  Still, Pam wasn’t no pork chop. She was U.S. prime with a wicked tongue. She’d give him the look and then start in on him with her nasty mouth.

  He took a slash from the beam and washed it down with a good swallow of the beer. Feeling better. Plenty of sunlight left to score some weed, mellow out. Find a nice place to sit and waste the day.

  Tommy looked in the rearview mirror, touched this cheek and saw the purple-yellow bruise. Jake Morgan. Boy, you couldn’t come at him straight up. The guy took Fat Boy Haller like he was a kid. Both of them. Man had some training somewhere. Wasn’t no street fighting stuff. Some kind of martial arts but not like the movies. Somebody said it was an Israeli commando way of fighting, Krav Maga, what they called it. Man, he’d like to catch him in the sights of his .30-06. Pow! Let him have it, watch his eyes glaze over. Teach him he should never have come back to Paradise.

  Or.

  Or, face him down, man to man. Old west style. Imagining it. Staring the asshole down, calling him out into the street, see who was the fastest gun in Paradise. Telling the guy to pull on the count of three, Tommy pulling on two.

  Yeah, that was the way. Asshole wouldn’t figure that. Doc Kellogg didn’t like the guy and maybe look the other way. Hell, Doc would have to go along he wanted to remain as sheriff was the way Tommy saw it.

  Why was he drinking alone?

  What he could use right now, what with the beer buzz, was the weed and a little trim. He knew a little girl in town whose husband slept during the day that could take care of Tommy’s urge, but when he called she didn’t answer.

  How about? Aw, should he? How about Harper fucking Mitchell? A little afternoon reconciliation was in order wasn’t it? She’d be at work this time of day, but he could wait.

  Hell, he knew where she kept her hideaway key. She didn’t know that. Be waiting when she came home from work.

  Surprise baby, daddy’s home.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Last time they spoke Gage told Jake he finally decided to marry Hanna Stanislaus, his high school sweetheart, gave her an engagement ring. They were hot and cold as a relationship for years most of it Gage’s fault. Gage would do something crazy or just tick her off as he was prone to do, and they would break up. Never for long, though. Small towns were like that. You count on ending up with the one you started with. Hanna is the next place to get some answers.

  Hanna ran a dog-grooming place called the ‘Puppy Palace’. He entered the lavender painted building and was met with the aroma of shampoo and animal musk. Hanna was happy to see him.

  “I have trouble thinking about Gage,” she said. She had a Shiatsu pup looped on a tall table, clipping his coat. “Keeps me awake nights. It’s a terrible thing. He was a good man. And, I’m worried I can’t find Travis. He loved that dog.”

  “I found Travis,” Jake said. He told her about Travis coming home and his injuries.

  “Who would hurt Travis?” she said. “Such a sweet boy. Gage was crazy about Travis. Went everywhere with Gage. We both love dogs and that’s one of the reasons we get along so well.” She stopped clipping the little dog. She looked away, took a breath and placed a hand along her cheek, her eyes moist. “I miss him.”

  “He was an original. You said Travis went everywhere with Gage? Would he have been with Gage during the wreck?”

  “Maybe. Like I said, they were pretty close.”

  “Did Gage chain Travis when he wasn’t home.”

  “A chain?” she said, asking it as if it were a strange question. “No. Never. Gage detested chains and never used one on Travis.”

  “Did Gage seem depressed or down in the dumps lately?”

  “Gage? You know how he is...was.” Stopping for a moment again. She placed a hand behind her neck as if pained. “He was always in a good mood or at least a goofy one. I don’t think he was ever depressed or bored. No,” she said again. “Not depressed. Ever. Gage thought the world was made just for him to have fun. Consequences never entered into his thinking.”

  Travis was Gage’s constant companion. Travis would not have run off nor would he have left Gage. Dogs don’t do that. Travis would not have left Gage at the wreck nor would he have allowed him to drown. File it away.

  “You know anyone want to harm Gage?” Jake said.

  Hanna dropped her eyes then appeared to be thinking about it. “Maybe...but no.”

  “You started to mention someone.”

  “No. I just...it’s nothing.”

  “Anything helps.”

  “Do you think Gage was murdered?”

  “Didn’t say that.” Cryptic now. “
Someone took his dog and abused it. Like to know who did that?”

  “I would hate to falsely accuse anyone.”

  “You wouldn’t be.”

  Hanna sat down, folded her hands in her lap and looked at them for a moment. Then she looked up at Jake.

  “I just would...rather not. Let me think about it.”

  Jake was trained to watch people, look for behavior tells, and Hanna was holding back. People withheld information for different reasons. Sometimes it was personal items that really didn’t matter but sometimes there was a little gem that fit everything together. He would save it for another time. He could come at her a different way at a later date and a different setting.

  “Jake, may I have Travis?” said Hanna. “It would be something to hold onto that was part of Gage.”

  “I can think of nothing better,” Jake said.

  Leaving the Puppy Palace and promising Hanna he would tell the vet to give Travis to her, Jake decided to stop by Harper’s and see if she felt better about things. She was troubled by the revelation of his tryst with Pam but did not go on about it or act childish and jealous. Still, it set her back, he saw it in her, felt her pulling back and he understood why she would feel that way. Didn’t help him feel better but there it was.

  When he pulled up to Harper’s drive, he saw the Paradise Police unit parked at her house. Must be her dad, is what he thought.

  But it wasn’t Cal Bannister’s car.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jake buzzed the doorbell and a uniformed Buddy Johnson opened the door. “Come on in, Jake,” Buddy said. “We’re about done here.”

  Jake entered and saw Tommy Mitchell on the floor, hands cuffed behind him. Tommy’s hair was disheveled, and his eyes glistened with alcohol poisoning. The smell of stale marijuana radiated from him. Harper wasn’t in the room.

  “Where’s Harper?” Jake said. “She okay?”

  “I’m fine,” said Harper, entering the room. She straightened her hair and he could see the redness on one cheek and the torn buttonhole on her blouse. “No thanks to this idiot. Tommy, you come around again I’ll hit you with a baseball bat.”

  Jake noticing Tommy’s knuckles were scraped and swollen.

  “How’d you hurt your hands, Tommy?” Jake asked.

  “Smacking you,” Tommy said hissing it.

  “Never laid a hand on me. You’re a lightweight. Who else you been fighting?”

  “What’s he doing here?” Tommy said, ignoring Jake. “The fuck’re you doing at my wife’s house?”

  Again with ‘the wife’ thing.

  Jake saying now, “Did you hurt her, Tommy? Did he hurt you, Harper?”

  “Are you fucking him?” Tommy asked Harper.

  That was enough.

  Jake took quick steps and snatched up Tommy by his hair and bent him over a chair. “It’s coming,” Jake said. “You won’t let it go. Just show up here again. I fucking dare you.”

  “I didn’t have these cuffs on,” Tommy said.

  “Take his cuffs off, Buddy,” Jake said.

  Jake felt strong hands pulling him away from Tommy. “Dammit, Jake,” Buddy said. “Leave off. You’re complicating things.”

  Jake let go, blood throbbing in his neck.

  “He’s fucking dangerous,” Tommy said. “Arrest him.”

  “Shut up, Tommy,” Buddy said. “Or you’ll be eating those cuffs.” Buddy reached down and lifted Tommy off the floor by his cuffed arms as easy as if he was picking up a pillow.

  “Ouch! Damn, Buddy!” Tommy said.

  “Behave and it won’t happen a lot.”

  “Wait until Kellogg hears you’re abusing innocent citizens.”

  “I don’t work for Doc anymore,” Buddy said. “You need to keep up with current events. And you’ve never been innocent long as I’ve known you. You’re lucky I took the call and not Cal. He has reason not to care for your dumb ass in the first place.” Buddy looked at Harper and said, “Do you want to bring charges?”

  “Maybe,” she said, she glared at Tommy, burning a hole in him with her eyes. “I have three hundred sixty-five days to file.”

  “Yes, you do,” Buddy said.

  “Throw him back, let him grow up,” she said.

  Buddy leaned down closer to Tommy’s shoulder. “Hear that, Tommy,” he said. “You mess with her again and you’re looking at assault and attempted rape.”

  “And trespassing he comes on my property again,” said Harper. “I’ll file a complaint about that.”

  “Bother her again,” Jake said, with more venom than intended, “and I will become a permanent fixture in your life.”

  Buddy shaking his head and looking tired. “Will you shut up, Jake? I’m handling this.”

  “Rape?” Tommy said. “I didn’t rape her, she’s lying.”

  “Attempted rape. Assault. Pay attention,” Buddy said. “You want that told around, Tommy? Kind of dampen your romance with the local girls. Not many of them want to date a guy charged with attempted rape.”

  “As if anyone would date him otherwise,” said Harper.

  Buddy uncuffed Tommy and led him away. As they were leaving Tommy said, “I’ll be seeing you around, boy.”

  “Be careful you don’t see me too often.”

  “Both of you knock it off,” Buddy said, shoving Tommy outside.

  Jake alone with Harper now. She left to change her blouse and returned wearing a sweatshirt with the words ‘Paradise Football’ on the front.

  Jake sat on the cranberry sofa where they’d sat the other night. This time, though, Harper sat in the matching wingback chair. Though they were in the same room he felt the distance between them.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She surprised him saying, “The question is are you okay?”

  She was working up to something. He waited.

  “Jake,” she said, “I care for you. The anger? I think you try to hide it but... First, there’s Pam and you’ve been in a fight first day back and for a brief moment it looked like you wanted to cripple Tommy.”

  Jake looked at his hands and said, “I don’t like men who abuse women.”

  “I understand but Buddy had control of the situation. It’s not I don’t appreciate your concern...and I realize much of it is your feelings for me, which is not a terrible thing.”

  Jake told her Tommy had already made an appearance at the farm.

  “Making the rounds,” she said. “No wonder you’re wound up. Tommy can do that. When I got home Tommy was here, waiting for me.” She brushed a lock of hair behind an ear. “He found a hideaway key. He wanted to negotiate a reunion. I told him to get out and he tried to get next to me telling me how much he loved me and wanted me back.” She was shaking her head. “Tommy never loved anyone but Tommy. God, I have no idea what I was thinking or what I saw in him.”

  She stopped and looked out the window briefly and then back at Jake. Jake wasn’t going to hurry her.

  Harper continued, saying, “I phoned dad’s office and Buddy answered and showed up, but not before things got physical and the idiot tried to force himself on me.”

  Jake didn’t know what to say so he said nothing.

  “I really want to be alone right now, Jake.”

  “You sure you’re okay,” he said.

  She nodded. “Yes. Just go. Please.”

  “Okay,” he said and got up to leave. With his hand on the door handle, Harper had something else for him.

  “Jake?” He turned as she walked towards him. “One more thing. You see the difference?”

  Her eyes searching his face. He waited for her to speak.

  “When Tommy showed up, I turned him down. That’s how you deal with someone out of your past who is no longer part of your future.”

  He started to say something, thought better of it, and left.

  What do you say when somebody slapped you with the truth?

  You tried to learn from it. That’s all.

  Chapter Eighteen

/>   So far Jake didn’t have much. Tire prints and foot casts wouldn’t help unless he could determine a crime occurred. Gut feelings and ‘hunches’ are for television. Was he hoping he could go after the Mitchells? His own prejudices against them clouding his reason?

  Tommy’s damaged hands, along with what he’d learned looking at the accident scene, piqued his interest. It was not enough to assert a homicide yet neither did it satisfy Jake that the investigation of Gage’s death was thorough and professional. Stay after it. As for the jurisdiction thing, he would try to stay under the radar with Kellogg. Right now, he wanted to see the car Gage was driving when he ran off the bridge. Go see Buddy and work that out.

  Buddy Johnson, in his new capacity as Paradise P.D. officer, led him to the chain link fence impound area where Gage’s vehicle was kept.

  “The city and the county share the impound,” Buddy said, turning the key in the padlocked gate leading into the impound area. There were cars, trucks and SUVs of all descriptions and repair. The ground was raw with dirt and scattered chat. “Kellogg can bitch but he can’t do a thing about it.”

  “You had a chance to see Gage’s car?”

  “Not until today.”

  “What was he driving?”

  “He just bought a Dodge Ram SUV, but he had a Dodge Charger. Nice one about four years old he kept waxed, looking like it came off the show room floor. Burnell liked the Mopars.” Buddy pulled out a creased document and read from it. “Red Dodge Charger R/T.” He folded it up and put it back in his pocket.

  “Where’s the Ram? It’s not at my place.” First time he had referred to Alfred’s farm in first person.

  “It’s missing?”

  “Unless you know where it is, yeah.”

  Buddy shaking his head now. “You’re telling me his other vehicle is gone? No one mentioned that. That’s strange. Let’s look at this one first. See it anywhere?”