by Wes Markin
“Me too. And you can never truly know what someone is capable of until you’ve seen it with your own eyes. And the fact that Charlotte saw him in the room with the two kissing boys, staring off into space, unresponsive …”
“I think I’d probably respond in exactly same way if my two best friends started kissing in front of me. Although, to be fair, the one in the car with me right now is as volatile as they come, and the other, well, he’s your friendly neighborhood serial killer apparently, so it would be a very peculiar situation.”
“Too many coincidences here,” Jake said. “Your judgement is clouded by your friendship with him.”
They neared the hospital, which was larger than Jake expected considering the small area it served.
“Okay, Jake. I don’t believe any of this for a second, and you’ll struggle to change my mind. However, I’ll tell you some things about Mason. You’re bound to find out sooner rather than later anyway.”
“Go on.”
“Years back, long before I knew him, Mason’s family had a bitter feud with the Davis family. Over what, I don’t know. He has been a good friend to me, and he has chosen not to talk about these things, so I’ve chosen not to press him. I can tell you that the Davis family are bad news though. The two elders, Camden and Dominic, are trash. Both drove their wives into early graves with their drinking and womanizing. The fact they’re in their sixties hasn’t slowed them down much either, and the brothers are inseparable and live together at Forest End on the farming land they inherited from their folks. Rundown farming land, I might add. Looks more like a junkyard these days, and most people tend to stay away.” Peter reached into his cigarette packet and sighed. “They don’t live alone either.”
“I thought you felt sick.”
“I do, but the next part of this story will make me feel even worse, so I’m hoping smoking may help with that.” He lit the cigarette. “The elderly brothers live with Cam’s son, Carson.” He took a puff on his cigarette and blew it out the window. “Carson is married to an Abenaki girl named Felicity.”
“Okay, I see where this is going. She’s treated badly?”
“An understatement. There’s something you don’t know about me, Jake. Years back, I sat on a small council for the Abenaki community. As I’m sure you can imagine, many of our people don’t get a fair deal in this part of the world. This council tries to even the scales. They tend to focus on helping some of the more vulnerable members of our community.”
“And this council helped Felicity?”
“Yes, you follow correctly. Not one of the council’s success stories, I’m afraid. She was sixteen when she hooked up with Carson. He was in his thirties. That was enough to put her on our radar. But what do you do when someone is in love? Or, at least, thinks they are in love? We’re not heavy-handed people, Jake. We didn’t meet fire with fire to take her back. We tried to convince her to come home, and I even tried to convince the Davis family, personally. I didn’t get far with that discussion, believe me, and most of the conversation was around my heritage and how it was a blight on their town.”
“Yet, they were happy to accept someone into their home from your community!”
“Brain cells are in short supply in that family. Besides, ignorance and racism doesn’t work on a logical level.”
Jake drove into the hospital parking lot.
“I’ve visited regularly over the last twelve or so years, Jake, to see how she is faring.”
“And?”
“Not great. There’s abuse, for sure, but she’d never admit to it. She’s had two boys, and that has given her something to focus on. The eldest is autistic, the non-verbal kind. He takes a lot of her attention. The youngest, who is around ten, is already getting into trouble, stealing and bullying other children. Another chip off the old block, I guess.”
“Okay, I’ve got the picture. We are adept at developing dysfunctional families back in the UK too. So, back to this rivalry. There is only Mason left from the Rogers family, and the Davis family continue, unfortunately by all accounts, to thrive. So, what relevance is this right now?”
“I’d have said nothing before today. But when I visited this morning, the things he told me made it seem very relevant.”
Jake parked beside a BMW and looked at Peter.
“Cam and Dom have built a new store on Slant Street and are sucking the profits from Mason’s general store.”
“Have they done this intentionally?”
Peter shrugged. “Mason seems to think so.”
“You think it’s worth talking to the Davis brothers?”
Peter shook his head. “Bad news. I’d steer clear. It might rile them. Mason told me what happened back in ninety when he was public enemy number one. They beat him outside his store. They also did something to his wife, Lorraine, but he wasn’t clear on what.”
Jake nodded. “Thanks, Peter. I’ll take this to Lillian and see if she can dig up some history on this rivalry, but right now, you’re getting looked at.”
“Okay, but I feel fine. I’ll get a cab back.”
Jake laughed. “Don’t trust you. I’m coming in too.”
9
KAYLA MACLEOID CLUTCHED her ears as her captor raged upstairs. The basement was soundproofed, so he must have left the door at the top of the steps open. Two smashes came in quick succession. Was he in the kitchen, throwing the dishes? Keeping her hands over her ears, she crawled into the corner of her room and drew her knees to her chest.
Pointless. There was no shutting out this sound.
His feet pounded on the floor above. There were several crashing sounds. He must have been lashing out in all directions, overturning furniture.
She rocked back and forth.
Everyone was gone. Everyone. Her mother from cancer. Her father from a bullet. Her brother from a knife. Dead. All of them. And how would she join them? What was her fate?
She sang to herself, desperate to drown out the rampaging monster above. It was no good. Her kidnapper’s cries of anguish cut through, and she felt it piercing her insides again and again before … silence. She stopped singing and wept. No one was coming for her. No one. Ever.
When the silence had lingered for a minute or so, she dropped her hands from her ears to her knees.
His footsteps down the stairs were loud and quick.
“No, no …” She rocked harder. She heard him wrestle the key into the door and yank the door open. “Please …” She squeezed her eyes shut. She thought of Morris, her toy monkey. How she longed to hold him right—
“Open your eyes, Kayla!”
It had been a gift from her dying mother.
“Open your fucking eyes, now!”
She felt his hands on her shoulders. He was shaking her.
“Now!”
She opened her eyes.
His twitching, sweating face was inches from hers. He shook her again. “You will talk to me!” He was chewing hard. His eyes were wider than she’d ever seen them. Sharp exhalations from his nose struck her like red-hot spears. “Talk to me now, or I’ll kill you!”
“Are you going to arrest me for holding a shotgun on that prick?” Mason asked.
Louise narrowed her eyes and leaned forward in her chair.
Mason edged backward in his.
For moments like this, she liked being tall and intimidating. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“I’ve been talking to you for over an hour! Surely, you have an inkling! Do I need a lawyer?”
“The only thing I’m certain of this minute is that I need another coffee.” She reclined in her chair again. “Want one?”
Mason sighed and nodded.
Louise turned to the officer beside her.
“Right away, ma’am.” He stood and left.
“You enjoy having power,” Mason said.
“Not really.”
“You look as if you do.”
“Means to an end. I get a lot done with it.”
“I never h
ad power. If I had any, I could have controlled my son. He might still be alive.”
She considered telling him she was sorry for his loss. She decided against it. It may weaken her stance.
In a tiny room that would struggle as a broom closet, never mind an interview room, Louise had peppered him with questions. He’d mustered the most horrified expression imaginable when she’d asked about the extracted teeth, but she was far too experienced to give his reaction any credence.
“You were never questioned regarding the murders of Bobby White and Henry Clark, were you?”
“No.”
“Yet, you were close friends?”
“Not really. We were only friends for a month.”
“Mrs. White said you were in her son’s room.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Doesn’t seem like something you’d forget in a hurry. Weren’t they kissing?”
“That’s right, yes. But it was almost half a century ago.”
“Why were they kissing?”
“We were playing truth or dare. Henry dared Bobby to kiss him when he wouldn’t answer his question.”
“What was the question?”
“I really can’t remember.”
“Did you know they were homosexual?”
“No. Is that for certain?”
“Mrs. White says they were.”
“I wasn’t sure. Like I said, it all seemed like a game to me.”
“Did you have sexual relations with either of them?”
“No.”
“Are you homosexual, Mr. Rogers?”
“No.”
“You said you had only been friends for a month?”
“That’s right.”
“How did that come about?”
“Well, a month before, I didn’t have any friends. Then I had two.”
“Why didn’t you have any friends?”
“I was introverted. I didn’t like to socialize all that much.”
“So, why did you start socializing with Bobby and Henry?”
“They were similar, I guess. They had each other, but that was it. I guess they took pity on the quiet boy in the corner, and we started to hang around a bit together.”
“Did you kill them?”
“No, ma’am, I did not.”
“When was the last time you saw them?”
“I’m not sure. I remember the announcement at school that there’d been an accident, that they were dead. Obviously, the nature of their deaths weren’t revealed to us, but we all found out soon enough.”
“How did you feel?”
“Sick … devastated … disturbed. How do you think I felt? I was fifteen, and they’d been nice to me.”
An hour of questioning had left Louise fatigued, and she drank the coffee quickly despite the heat. She noticed Mason doing the same.
“You know, I’ve nothing to hide. If that knuckle dragger hadn’t come over to throttle me, and then threaten to gun me down, I would have happily answered his questions.”
“He’s had a shock, and it’s left him rather unstable. He shouldn’t have been working.”
“That’s alright then. Maybe I shouldn’t have defended myself?”
“You had a shotgun to the back of his head, Mr. Rogers. That didn’t look like self-defense.”
“I feared for my life.”
“You seemed to have it under control.”
“Go after me for it then, ma’am. Then believe me when I say I’ll go after his badge.”
“And what makes you think I care about his badge, Mr. Rogers?”
“I don’t, just giving you a statement of fact.”
Louise made some notes while Mason fidgeted in his chair. “How did you feel when you heard the body of Collette Jewell had been recovered from the Skweda?”
“Unsurprised, actually.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
“Because the disappearance of that poor girl was the worst thing that ever happened to me. You never expect trauma like that to go away. So, when it returns, you’re unsurprised.”
“Describe that ordeal to me.”
Mason led Louise through the investigation, including, in detail, his ill-treatment by Earl Jewell and his persecution from the Davis brothers and other like-minded individuals. “A very different version of events from the one left to you by Earl, I imagine.”
“I’ll be honest,” Louise said. “I haven’t had time to read the investigation yet. Listen, with me here, the investigation will run properly, Mr. Rogers, you can be sure of that, and I firmly believe in innocence until it is proven otherwise. That said, I assume you’ll be staying in town for the foreseeable future?”
“I haven’t been anywhere since my wife died over ten years back. I wouldn’t know how to leave anymore.”
“Okay. I’d appreciate it if you put a pin in your complaint against Chief Jewell, at least for the time being. He’s on leave, and if you drag him through the mud, he’s going to expect me to do the same to you. I think it is a messy situation all would prefer to park until after we get to the bottom of all of this.”
Mason nodded. “Can I go? My dog will be hungry.”
“Yes. Go and feed him.”
The X-rays showed no damage to Peter’s skull, but the doctors opted to keep him for observation anyway, leaving Jake alone on the return journey. On route, he contacted Lillian and briefed her on his discussion regarding Mason’s background.
“The Davis family are a bad lot. Those brothers have spent more time in our cells than the cleaners.”
“I’d like to get a look at them.”
“I can describe them to you. It’s safer that way.”
“It’s not enough. I’ve got a feeling there’s something in this feud. Despite only being one surviving Rogers left, it rumbles on. We need some clarity on how it all began.”
“And what happens when the Davis brothers realize Mason is the prime suspect again? I don’t think you appreciate what they’re like!”
“I probably do. You know, back home, we have our own version of rednecks.”
“Well, you should know that stoking the fire is not a good idea then. Drawing them out could put Mason in grave danger. And we still don’t know if he’s guilty of anything! We could be putting an innocent man through more trauma!”
“I have an idea. A card we can play. It’ll keep them quiet, at least for the moment.”
“Go on.”
Jake told her.
“Yes, it would ring true, but I’m still not convinced it’ll work. You’re not dealing with rational and intelligent people here.”
“I’ll meet you on the road into Forest End.”
Lillian sighed. “And if it doesn’t work and they hit Mason again, like they did in the past, you won’t feel bad?”
“It’ll work, Lillian.”
Mason declined Louise’s offer of a lift from the police station and headed off on foot instead. He’d kept himself in shape over the years and so moved at a fair pace anyway. Along the way, he passed many people he knew by name. Some nodded a greeting; others kept their head down. No one stopped to talk.
It’s happening again.
On Main Street, he passed Lynn, his most regular customer, carrying a brown paper bag. She must have been shopping elsewhere. With a twinge of disappointment, he felt obliged to stop and accepted that it was because his store had been closed. “Did your husband enjoy his paper today, Mrs. Hindley?”
She avoided eye contact. “He hasn’t woken yet.”
“Ah … okay. Sorry, I’ve been out. Did you stop by the store?”
“No,” she said, still looking down.
He nodded at her paper bag. “You went to Davis Conveniences?”
“Yes. I was over on the other block. Thought I’d take a look.”
“Worth trying the competition, I guess.” He smiled.
She didn’t return the smile, because she still wasn’t looking at him. “I’ve got to hurry back, before Paul wak
es.”
“No bother. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded and turned away.
It’s happening again.
As he neared his store, he saw that his door was open and increased his speed, then he ran his fingers over the broken frame. Someone had jimmied it open.
He turned around. In broad daylight? With people about?
It’s happening again.
He pushed open the door and entered his empty, silent shop. He listened for Kyle’s scratching and yapping at his apartment door. Nothing.
“Kyle?” he called as he headed down the aisle, where hours earlier he’d been facing off against Gabriel. His hand settled on the handle of his apartment. He heard a whimper, and his breath caught in his throat. Turning, he saw the small black bundle twitching several feet away in a pool of vomit. He ran, slid to his knees, and cradled his boy’s head. “Kyle?”
His poisoned dog convulsed and died in his arms.
10
FOREST EDGE REMINDED Jake of home.
The trees ended by a beautiful creek which had broken loose from the Skweda some distance away. The steep gradient sent the water rushing forcefully over rocks. Closing his eyes, Jake welcomed the soothing sounds as he waited.
When Lillian arrived, Jake left his car by the wild, fast-moving brook and jumped into her vehicle. As they drove away, he watched this glory of nature shrink in the sideview mirror, then he focused on the dirt track that Lillian was veering onto and was stunned by how everything could so quickly turn to shit. The color and freshness was soon gone, while the shrubbery became tangled and unwelcoming, and the light struggled more and more to find its way through the matted canopy.
Then, as they turned into the farmyard, Jake couldn’t hold back any longer. “Jesus!”
“I tried to warn you,” Lillian said.
Rotting fences were strewn all over the property, and any attempts to surmise how the place was once organized would be doomed to failure. Large swathes of the patchy grass were singed brown. The smell in the air indicated that burning here was regular. Countless rusted vehicles peppered the ruined farmyard. Many had missing wheels, while others were missing doors and, in some cases, even roofs.
