Shadows and Ash: Pulp Friction 2014 Finale

by Harner, Laura

  “Oh my god. Poor Scott. Is he okay? Have you been able to see him? Did they arrest him or just put him in the hospital? Oh my god…”

  Wrapping the young woman in his arms, Rob held tight. They needed to draw strength from each other—chasing down Carl would wait. He was already on Rob’s list.

  “You okay?” he whispered.

  “Yeah…tell me about Scott.”

  “I don’t have a lot of information about Scott, but our meeting’s getting ready to start in just a few minutes so I’ll go over it in there if you don’t mind. Where are Siggy and the kids?”

  “Still in Park Valley. He’s—he’s going to bring them home Wednesday. We can have Scott home by then, can’t we?”

  Rob brushed the hair back from Jilly’s face and forced a smile. “Sure, honey, that’s the plan. Let’s go see if everyone is here.”

  A few minutes later everyone was seated in the dining room. Rob propped his foot on the seat of the ladder-back chair, glanced at his notes, and cleared his throat. Looking up, he scanned the room, his gaze settling for a moment on each person. Charlie and Amos sat in the center of the room, their shoulders touching, a can of Coke in front of Charlie and Amos cradled a cup of coffee in his hands. Cannon sat at a table with Mick, who still sported a stark white gauze bandage on his forehead, along with a hint of a shiner. Finn leaned on the wall behind them, his gaze fixed on Rowe as if willing him to look up. Apparently ignoring or unaware of the silent request, Rowen Smithe leaned against the opposite wall, seemingly as far from his lover as possible. Dressed all in black, he stood with his arms folded, long hair loose and falling around his face like a shield. Everyone present or accounted for—it was time to begin.

  “I think everyone here is caught up on the situation yesterday—so let me start by telling you what I found out last night. Thanks to a very observant EMT, rather than waking up in jail, Scott is a guest of the Flagstaff Medical Center and undergoing a psychiatric evaluation. Tris says even from twenty feet away it was clear Scott wasn’t attacking the cop, just trying to get to Mick. And the insurance investigator Driscoll was egging the whole thing on.”

  “Yeah, that’s the way I saw it, too,” Finn confirmed. “Scotty was hanging on, fighting through the stress, then that asshole Driscoll started on him and kept at it and kept at it until he’d chipped away Scott’s last defense.”

  “Why the hell would the cops just let that happen?” Charlie asked. Next to him, Amos’s mouth curved into a bitter smile, but he didn’t say anything, just reached for his lover’s hand.

  “So they could get answers to questions before reading Scott his rights,” Rob answered. As a former Park Service Ranger, long-term investigations weren’t exactly the type of cases he worked, but he’d likely have used the same strategy. That didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed they’d done it to Scott. Stewing over the hows of the situation would get them nowhere, so he continued to direct the conversation.

  “We all know the fires and vandalism have been going on since Scott arrived—a fact no doubt used by the insurance company to bolster their position that Scott is responsible. I’m only going to say this once—Scott did not do this. For the next three days, we’re going to do what we can to find out who is really behind these fires. At the very least, we need to find other potential suspects to prove to law enforcement that there is sufficient reasonable doubt. Maybe then they can pressure the arson investigator to quit working on behalf of the insurance company.”

  Stopping to take a sip of coffee, Rob studied the others in the room. He’d never laid eyes on any of them a year ago—now he was putting Scott’s life and his children’s future in their hands. “No one could ask for a better family,” he blurted. He hadn’t meant to say the words aloud, but he was glad he did. Life was too short to let the important moments slip away.

  “What do you need from us? We’ll do anything to help Scott,” Charlie said.

  Rowe glanced at Finn and nodded his head once. Cannon shifted in his seat and looked as if he wanted to say something, then pressed his lips tightly together. Mick glanced at his tablemate, then over at his lover before he raised his hand—looking for all the world like a bright, eager college student waiting to be called on.

  “We’re pretty informal here, Mick, what’ve you got for us?”

  “I know there’s been a lot happening lately but I wonder if any of the vandalism could be related to something that happened not too long after I arrived.” The curly-headed blond flushed, but continued. “You know…the forest run where I uh, met a tree that didn’t see gravity the same way I did? I—uh…haven’t paid that debt to Arturo and I wondered if any of this could be related to—”

  “No,” Rowe said flatly.

  Mick spun in his chair and nailed his boyfriend with a look. “How do you know? This could be some sort of loan shark bait torture…”

  “No,” Rowen repeated.

  “I’m going to go talk to him.” The stubborn set of Mick’s jaw telegraphed his determination. Not wanting to get between the two men, Rob nevertheless had a job to do here. There was absolutely no reason for Arturo or any of the thugs surrounding Mick’s gambling debt to do any damage to Mountain Shadows. Loan sharks were in it for the money, and there wasn’t anything here to use to pay off Mick’s loan. Even if Scott received the insurance claim, that money was already spent on the repairs to the cabins. Still, as red herrings went…

  “I said no. The debt has been paid. The subject—and the debt—is closed,” Rowe said with a quiet finality. Mick’s mouth opened and closed like a fish.

  Oh boy…no doubt Mick would make Rowe pay for that tone later. Especially once Rowe explained whatever it was he’d done.

  Cannon cut in with a question of his own. “Do you imagine Lassiter could have anything to do with this?” he asked, twisting to look at Finn, then back to Rob.

  Finn snorted. “I expect Lassiter is in a room next to Scott’s in the psych ward.”

  Rob glared at Finn, then shifted to look at Cannon. “It’s not a bad idea. Even if we can’t prove who is behind these attacks, we want to muddy the pool of suspects. Cannon, would you take on Lassiter? Find out his current whereabouts. If possible—and safe—talk to him and see if he had any involvement here over the past year.”

  Cannon straightened and squared his shoulders, his thin frame towering over Mick at the table.

  “Sorry,” Finn offered. “What can I do?”

  “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just having a hard time thinking about Scott in—” His throat constricted and he looked away. The logical part of his brain knew Scott was better cared for in the hospital than in a jail cell. Maybe they could help him kick the last of these fucking nightmares and flashbacks. After swallowing hard, Rob cleared his throat and continued.

  “Finn, you’ve been here the longest; did you ever meet Frank Watson? He’d recognize you as a neighbor, right?”

  “Sure. We’ve met several times over the years. Mostly just casual hellos when we run into each other at the store—or the steering wheel hand wave. Why? Do you have an idea?”

  “Not much of one, but we need to stir things up. Will you go to Watson’s place and ask a few questions about any suspicious activity he might have noticed. We can assume the investigators have already been there and covered this formally, but he might have something different to say to a neighbor. Keep it on the edge of gossip, anything to get him to talk. Answer any questions he has about Scott—make it sound just as fucking desperate as it really is, okay?”

  “All right, I can take care of that this morning. Then what?”

  “Then you can help Rowen with his investigation,” Rob said, choosing his words with care. Finn turned his head to look across the room, but Rowe’s gaze stayed locked on Rob.

  “Rowe? Okay, I can do that too. What’s Rowe going to be doing?”

  “Whatever needs to be done. I’m sure he’ll tell me if he discovers anything I need to know.” Message delivered.

&nbs
p; Rowen nodded once—message received—then went back to studying his shoes.

  “Charlie, I need you to go over every structure on the property. Take my camera, make notes on anything that seems out of place. If you can get date stamped photos during this observation period—if anything changes, then we have some proof Scott isn’t involved.” Rob held up his hands. “That’s not an invitation for anyone to plant evidence hoping to clear Scott. Trust me—false evidence will hurt him—not help.”

  “Yes, I can do that. Amos can help,” Charlie said.

  “No, I have something else for you, Amos. I need you to go through the business records—as far back as we have them. That means before the previous owners, too. I don’t know what the hell we’re looking for, but as a small business owner yourself, maybe something will jump out.”

  Rowen straightened and made as if he was ready to leave, but Rob wasn’t finished yet. “Is there anyone else we should be looking at? Does anyone have someone they’ve seen around here, someone who could have grudge against Scott or Mountain Shadows?”

  Rob looked around, meeting the eyes of each man in the room, assessing whether anyone had something else he wanted to add. Finally, his gaze settled on the one person with an important story to tell—one who’d remained silent and in the background until now.

  “Jillian?”

  The big brown eyes staring back at him held more than a hint of deer in the headlight. Guilt warred with his sense of frustration. In the prolonged silence, the kitchen clock ticked in the other room, an audible reminder of the rapidly approaching deadline. Jillian shuddered and he wanted to pull her to him to keep her safe, even from her own past. Rob gave a small shake of his head.

  “This is our family now, Jilly—and they’re here to help Scott. Not everything, honey, but they need to know he’s still around. I can do it for you…”

  “No,” she said. Taking a shaky breath, she kept her gaze locked on Rob’s as if she were speaking only to him. “C…Carl. Carl Rademacher has been hanging around. He’s moved in over at Watson’s place—I think he’s working there. I caught sight of his truck a few times.”

  Rowen sucked in a breath through his nostrils, his hands fisting by his sides. “That’s who it was. I knew he looked familiar, but he wasn’t close enough for me to be sure.”

  “I never met him. That’s your ex, right?” Charlie asked.

  “Yes,” Finn answered, apparently trying to spare Jillian from having to talk about a clearly painful subject. “He moved in on Jilly not too long after Pauline brought her and Maddie to Mountain Shadows. He was a bit of a slime—no offense, Jilly. But I was glad when Scott and Robby kicked him out. He might make a nice diversion for the cops, Robby.”

  “Oh, Finn…” she said, and her fingers trembled as she twisted them in her lap.

  “Okay, everyone has their assignments,” Rob said, wishing he’d never brought it up publicly. “I’ll take Carl—find out exactly what he’s been up to since we kicked him out. If he’s at Watson’s—that adds more weight to the idea one or both of them could be involved.

  “What am I missing here?” Amos asked. He looked at Rob a long moment, then turned to Jillian. “Sweetheart, I know we don’t know each other well, but has this man—Carl—hurt you?”

  Jilly started to shake her head, then caught herself and nodded. Rob reached her side, prepared to take her from the room, but she just gripped his arm and held him in place. “You’re right, Robby—they need to know. This isn’t about me. If Carl has anything to do with what’s happening to Scott, I need—” A shudder worked through her. “I need to do this,” she whispered.

  “I don’t quite know where to begin…” She looked up to Rob, then glanced from Finn to Rowen. “I know you both thought Carl was my…uhm…boyfriend when he followed me here. The truth is, I’d been hiding from him for years. I was one week from living out of the back of my car, and Pauline saved my life when she gave me a job and a place to live. A few weeks later, Carl spotted me when Pauline sent me to town to do the shopping. I tried to get away, but he saw the name on the truck, and a few days later, he showed up and moved in.”

  Amos twisted around in his seat while she was speaking. Deep lines formed between his brows and his mouth pressed into a tight thin line. He seemed to know where this story was headed. “Did this man—Carl—abuse you?”

  Jilly’s breath hitched. “Yes…sometimes. When he’d been drinking.”

  Amos nodded, as if he knew what she meant. “Sometimes it was verbal?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jillian? You said you’d been hiding from this man for years—how many years? Did that man abuse you when you were a child?”

  Although her fingers gripped Rob’s, he sensed she’d almost forgotten about everyone there and was speaking directly with Amos. There was a special connection between them that spoke of shared experiences. Survivors who recognized each other. Every person in the room seemed to hold his breath while they waited on Jillian’s answer.

  “Yes,” she finally whispered.

  Amos asked the same question Rob had asked her months ago. “Is Carl Maddie’s father?”

  “No, he’s mine. My father.”

  “Shit,” Finn said softly.

  “Sweetheart, did he touch Maddie? Because Park can help us with this—”

  “No!” Jillian shouted. Her breath came in short rasps, the color high in her cheeks. “It’s what we fought about the last time…the night Scott and Robby…and it’s what he wants now. He was here again this morning. He said I had to bring Maddie to him or he would tell everyone what I was—what I did with him.”

  Jillian vibrated with emotion…with anger…with rage. “I said I’d kill him if he ever came near either of us again.”

  Chapter Five

  Driving would have been faster, but then he couldn’t have taken the time to confer with Rowe. Since Rowe and Rob’s little not-so-subtle eye games had been expanded to include him, Finn wanted that opportunity. Almost as much as he wanted to get his knife at Rademacher’s throat. So he hiked through the woods, a silent Rowe exuding menace at his side, toward the old hogan, the site of the latest fire.

  Under his very nose.

  Their feet fell in silent rhythm, as though Rowe’s presence quelled the natural noises of leaves being crushed underfoot, of twigs snapping and wildlife scattering.

  Evil had lurked, taunting him for all these years. He’d been so caught up in his fantasy world, his…daydream of a charming prince, that he’d missed it all.

  Then again…

  Finn ducked under a low hanging branch. He’d thought he knew every inch of the Mountain Shadows campground after living here for over ten years. He’d spent many pleasant hours hiking its trails and rambling through the woods in those years. But Rowe loped along with a speed and surety of foot that he couldn’t match. His friend seemed able to anticipate every branch and hollow and puddle that lay in their path. He fell a little behind Rowe, not so far as to make the man wary, but enough that his instincts would prevent Finn putting his foot in something he shouldn’t.

  Maybe this timing was perfect. Maybe now was when he needed to be aware of this, because now he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. If something needed to be done to protect his family, Jilly, Scott, all the little children? Then he wasn’t worried about getting his hands dirty. He was going to do whatever it took to keep them all safe, and he wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it either.

  Rowe cast him a stern glance, probably making sure he wasn’t falling too far behind, and Finn decided he’d had enough of the silence. “I know you think I’m the friend you don’t have to talk to,” he ventured. “But silence isn’t always golden. Sometimes explicit is better.”

  Rowe turned back to face ahead, grunting.

  Finn chuckled. He’d grown a lot in the last year, thanks to Cannon. Given up a lot of silly fantasies, and learned to love reality. And his family. “Okay. So…I’ll do the talking.”

  “What�
�s there to say?” Rowen rumbled low in his throat. “The more noise you make, the less likely we are to hear anything useful.”

  “Are you expecting to stumble over some villain at the burn site?”

  Rowe shook his head. “Not really, no. But we can’t rule out the fact that there are people here who don’t belong.”

  “That’s partially my fault.” Finn rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. Guilt was an evil master, one he’d thought he’d kicked to the curb when he and Cannon got their lives settled.

  “Mick, you, Jilly, Charlie…Scott.”

  “What?” Outrage bubbled to the forefront. “I know I said…” What had he expected from Rowe? Protestations and soothing words? Comfort and forgiveness? Wrong man.

  Rowe whirled to face him. “All of you brought something…someone here who might be preying upon us for their own reasons.”

  The truth was, there was no shortage of suspects. Rob might want to just cast doubt on Scott’s guilt or innocence, but none knew better than Finn and Rowe that leaving loose ends wasn’t a good idea. They didn’t just have to prove someone else could be responsible for the vandalism. They had to prove that Scott couldn’t be.

  “I accept the blame for that,” Finn grasped Rowe’s arm tightly. The muscles under his hand tightened, but Rowe didn’t pull away. “And I’ll do what it takes to make up for it.”

  “Good.” The man’s eyes narrowed, and he looked Finn over intently. “I know this isn’t your fault, any more than it’s mine, Mick’s, or Jilly’s. But you and me, Finn, we have the steel to do what needs to be done, like one of those cowboys in those books you’re always giving me. The rest of them, they’re still guided by morality and law and things that hinder justice.”