Flinching at the bold statement, yet recognizing the truth in it, Finn let Rowe lead them deeper into the woods. “I’m in, whatever you’ve got planned. I’ll do what it takes to keep the campground safe, for the kids…and Jilly, Mick, Cannon…” God, he hated thinking about what this situation might be doing to Cannon, who’d only just recovered from his ordeal in Atlanta a year ago. Still, he reconsidered with pride, Cannon had proven himself to be made of sterner stuff than even he had suspected in recent months.
“Plan?” A tiny thread of mirth underlay Rowe’s voice. “You assume I’m operating on a foundation of more than desperation, and I appreciate that, but…” His voice trailed off into silence.
A twig snapped somewhere close by. Leaves rustled. Rowe put one foot in front of the other, and this time Finn heard the crunch of nature underfoot.
For the first time since they’d set out from the lodge after Rob’s plea for help, Finn felt a moment of doubt. “No plan, huh?”
Rowe jerked his head in the direction they were walking. “That’s where we start. Find out what, if anything, our pyromaniac left behind.”
Finn bit his lip. “I know Lassiter set off that firecracker, but he had no reason to do any of the other things… And I really couldn’t see him killing a deer and gutting it on the trail. I don’t think he’s our pyro.”
“And Mick’s man…this Arturo, he didn’t have any reason to set fire to the hogan.”
“Then who?” Finn let his frustration show.
“Doesn’t matter, does it? It’s not Scott. And we both know that.” Rowe’s lips twisted in a bitter little smile. “In the last year, danger has come to stalk our home, Finn. But it brought something we all needed with it… The rest of them… Maybe they don’t need to know how dearly we pay for that. They just need to know that it’s gone now.”
Finn jerked to a halt, considering. He knew…felt…what Rowe meant. “Right. Faen. You’re right.” Sighing, he ducked his head.
“You don’t have to,” Rowe whispered. “I can handle it on my own.”
Finn snapped his gaze up to meet Rowe’s. “No. Absolutely not. We’re in this together, even if all I’m good for is an alibi.” He held no illusion that Rowe needed his help. But he wanted it, and Finn wanted to do something…something that would prevent Rowe from hiding again, or…running.
Rowe nodded. He pointed over his shoulder. “Ten yards that direction is the remains of the old hogan. I’m going to check it out. See if I can find any evidence telling us who—because why doesn’t matter. Someone is responsible…And I’m going to do everything I can to see that person stopped.”
“I’m going to leave you here then,” Finn said. “Watson’s property line butts up to Mountain Shadows right about a half mile from here. I’ll go see what he has to say about where he was when the fire occurred.”
“You can find it okay?”
Finn gave his friend an amused glance. “I’ve lived here longer than you. In fact, I grew up drinking and dancing over in that field to the west you’re always on about. Pretty sure I can find my way to the border easy enough.”
Rowe’s lips thinned. “It’s going to be dark by five.”
Finn tapped his pants pocket. “I have a flashlight, but I doubt I’ll be gone that long.”
Rowe had vanished into the trees before Finn’s last words left his lips.
***
Mick walked around the campground aimlessly, alternating between silently seething at his boyfriend while purposely avoiding running into him and wishing they had a few minutes together so Rowen could expand on that whole “no…no…no and the topic’s closed” crap he pulled earlier.
Damn, he wished Rob had given him a definite assignment also, something to distract his thoughts. Thoughts that kept coming back to the looks that Rob, Finn, and Rowen exchanged. What would Mick do if Rowe turned back to his old ways? Would he survive it this time? Knowing that Rowe allowed the darkness to take root again?
For Mick’s own sanity, he couldn’t go through it again. He couldn’t be a part of that world with pain and blood and…and death.
He stopped walking in the middle of the dirt road running through Mountain Shadows and realized he stood smack dab between Rowen’s cabin and his.
He turned toward the lodge—even if nature conveniently blocked the view—and his mind’s eye projected a cinematic experience for him. Maddie running down those porch steps straight to her Rowie, arms wide and smile welcoming. Maddie unbraiding Rowie’s hair just to make it pretty for him with a dozen hair ties and barrettes with bows attached to them. Her little hand curling around Rowie’s much bigger one when she looked up at him and confided that he was her favorite Rowie in all the world. How the small little fearless girl flew around the corner screaming Rowie’s name, intent on saving him from the mean stranger who hurt him and brought him to his knees.
A tear slid down Mick’s cheek. The internal movie suddenly changed and instead of Rowen it was Mick who Maddie smiled up at while offering her last piece of chocolate from the Easter bunny. Jilly watching over him after he’d been beat to hell and back in the woods—the first time…and the second—and Maddie lovingly sitting next to him on the bed plastering Band-Aids all over his face to cover the bruises, telling him he would be all right after eating her mama’s chicken noodle soup, it was magic. Jilly and Maddie standing next to each other, reprimanding him when he skipped multiple meals, choosing to shut himself off from the rest of the campground in his own hellish world—neither of them pleased with that idea and letting him know when they brought food to his cabin.
Carl hurt Jilly. He wanted to…hurt Maddie…
“I’ll kill him first.”
The words tumbled out of Mick’s mouth before he realized how true they were. Screw the darkness that terrified him—fuck it. Mountain Shadows may be the stomping grounds for a bevy of misfits, but they were his misfits…and he fit right in for once.
No one would come in here and threaten them and be allowed to witness the next sunrise. Sometimes you have to do bad things to ensure good people aren’t hurt, the trick was to control the darkness, not let the darkness control you.
A weight lifted off Mick’s shoulders; he didn’t realize how much the prospect of losing Rowe yet again frightened him. His heart wouldn’t survive it.
He wouldn’t survive it.
He heard the purring before he felt the heavy weight push into the back of his legs.
“Hello, Filigree.” Mick turned around and squatted down. The cat automatically walked in between his bent legs and rubbed against his thighs, raising her back and waiting for Mick to adore her as was his job.
“You are a saucy one, aren’t you?” Mick chuckled as he fulfilled his obligation to the cat, scratching behind her ears. “So hey, I’m kinda curious how much you take after your other daddy. You see, there’s this cat named Hershey with beady little eyes that doesn’t like to let me eat my breakfast in peace and I was thinking you could pull a Rowen on him maybe? I’m not talking anything fatal, this is your Uncle Siggy’s cat…nah, nothing permanent, but maybe swish your tail in front of him, and when you have his attention, explain to him how things work here? I mean you have been here a lot longer…”
In mid-sentence Filigree turned and walked away from Mick, obviously no longer needing his services.
He called after her. “Well, at least think about it. Who knows, Hershey might be making a play for your territory. Hell, maybe he’s making a play for you and sabotaging me is just part of his plan.”
Filigree swished her tail at Mick, almost as if she understood what he said and didn’t doubt someone wanted a piece of it. He stood, chuckling at the princess kitty as he looked around at his home.
A year ago Mountain Shadows was the weird off-the-beaten-path place where his best friend chose to reside. Of course, Mick had been here sporadically over the past decade or so, visiting Finn, but most of the time, Finn would meet him in town and they’d hang. Truth be told Mick never
understood the lure this godforsaken wooded area had on Finn.
Now he couldn’t imagine calling any other place home.
He flinched at the idea that he almost didn’t make the trek to Finn’s house in February. He’d debated whether to get a hotel room and call Finn, but at the last minute, decided he wanted to surprise his best friend instead.
No matter the shit he’d been through this year, he knew he was a better man now than he’d been before moving here.
His gaze settled on cabin three. The other month something over there spooked Filigree. Rowen and Mick were on their way to grab some energy fortifying food so Mick could take advantage of Rowe a few more times that day when they were sidetracked by the cabin three mystery.
They’d searched high and low around the cabin, and Rowen even investigated the woods around it, but nothing was out of the ordinary.
At least Mick didn’t think anything was out of the ordinary…but he remembered Rowen being withdrawn and introspective the rest of the day…well more than usual.
Before he knew it, he stood in front of the cabin in question.
Mick looked at the sky, judging the position of the sun with the shadows of the trees and finally looked at his watch. He had a short while until sundown. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick look around before it gets dark,” he mumbled to himself.
He didn’t realize how quick quick was until he stopped as soon as he rounded the back of the cabin.
“What the fuck?” he whispered as if someone was lurking around and could hear his cursing.
Someone had been digging behind cabin three. Under the snow, there was mound of dirt jutting out from the back of the cabin.
Holy shit! Someone’s buried a body out here. There’s a dead body under the cabin!
Mick bounced on the balls of his feet, restraining himself from the need to run and find Rowen. He didn’t need Mr. Subject Closed to run to his rescue. Dead bodies couldn’t attack you or anything.
“Oh fuck a dead body…haven’t I reached my quota of those this year?”
Mick inched his way closer to the mound of loose dirt. He knew for a fact the pile of tossed earth wasn’t there last time he and Rowen were back there, and nobody else had reason to do this.
When he got closer, he saw something sticking out from the dirt. A corner of something that looked a lot like wood.
He straightened from the sneak-up-on-the-pile slouch he’d adopted and walked over to the foreign object.
“What the…”
With the toe of his shoe, Mick kicked at the dirt until a bigger corner showed.
“Plywood?”
Who the fuck would have plywood out here and cover it in dirt? He got on his knees and followed the edge until his hands were brushing up against the wall of the cabin. Digging his fingers under the cheap piece of pressed wood, he fought against the weight on top of it and managed to flip the board up and away from the building.
Mick thought he might’ve been all what-the-fucked out by this point as he stared down into a hole that was dug underneath the cabin.
Figuring out the dirt wasn’t there to hide a body, Mick’s curiosity piqued. He slid his iPhone from his back pocket, turned the flashlight on, and leaned down to peer into the gaping hole.
Not really able to see anything, Mick lay down on his belly and scooted farther in the hole. The light from the phone glinted off something just out of his reach.
Mick knew there shouldn’t be anything under this cabin that had a reflective type of surface so he shimmied in a little more and reached out with his empty hand. The confined space really hampered his ability to stretch his arm out far so he had to maneuver a few more inches into the tight area.
He took a moment to thank god he wasn’t claustrophobic.
Finally after slithering even deeper into the fucking cold ass hole, Mick noticed the tiny crawl space wasn’t as tiny anymore. Still on the smallish side, but his upper body had more wiggle room than his lower body. It was just the extra space he needed to reach out and wrap his fingers around the hard and smooth reflective surface that caught his eye.
He offhandedly noted that the glass bottle rested on a soft surface. He took a moment to run his hands along the soft but dirty material until he ran into something plastic that felt rigid-y.
A zipper?
Patting around, he again grabbed the slender glass and tried to slink backward. Mick quickly realized all his body except for his feet was completely underneath the cabin.
“Well, this outta be fun,” he mumbled under his breath as he rocked left and right, attempting to build up some kind of momentum so he could work his way backward. It proved to be much easier pushing in than pulling out.
That was, easier until two strong hands roughly gripped his ankles and yanked him out with a muted grunt.
His shirt yanked up to gather under his chin and the gritty earth abraded and froze his torso as he continued being pulled out of the hole.
“Hey!” Mick kicked his feet, trying to loosen the grip, but the assailant didn’t let go. “Sonofabitch! Who the hell is out there? Who are you?”
Keeping one hand tight around his find—which now appeared to be a square bottle—and his other hand around his phone, he tried to halt his backward movement by digging his elbows and knees in the frozen ground.
Unfortunately his attacker used a few good tugs and the dirt moved around Mick’s body, no longer helping in his rescue.
“I’ve got a boyfriend who can kick your ass!” Mick screamed before adding to himself, “among other things.” His right arm got caught on the edge of the opening. Since the asshole didn’t seem keen on letting up, Mick quickly straightened his arm instead of risking any serious damage to it.
A quick bump on the back of his head and then he no longer was in the manmade cubby hole.
As soon as his ankles were released, Mick popped up to his hands and knees and scurried away from the stranger, flopping over onto his ass when he deemed he was a valid distance away.
Looming over him stood the boyfriend Mick swore could kick ass…and by the look on his face, it was Mick’s ass in danger.
Mick spent a whole half second worried about the frown on Rowen’s face before he remembered he was also pissed off.
“What’s your problem?” He jumped to his feet and attempted to dust the dirt off his stomach with a bottle in one hand and his iPhone in the other. “Jesus fucking Christ that hurt! You couldn’t have just told me you were out here?”
“Good. Maybe the pain will knock some common sense into you.”
Mick snorted. “Sorry to inform you, but that ain’t likely. It’s been a long damn time since common sense and I had an intimate conversation.”
“Cabins have been tampered with.” Rowen took a deep breath then calmly stated, “The integrity could’ve been compromised and the structure collapsed on top of you.”
Oh. Well, Mick never thought of something like that happening, but he wouldn’t admit that to Rowe. “If that ever happens grab the ruby red slippers and follow the yellow brick road.”
As par for course, either Rowen didn’t get Mick’s sense of humor or was immune to it considering his facial expression remained impassive and fucking calm.
“It wasn’t there last time I made my rounds.” Rowe gestured to the hole.
“Are you sure? It’s hidden pretty well, just a simple narrow tunnel that probably used to be covered by the plywood and dirt. I think it might’ve been a quick hiding spot out of the weather with a little get-you-warmed-up refreshment.” He held the bottle up for Rowen’s perusal.
Rowe took the empty Jack Daniel’s bottle and unscrewed the cap, taking a whiff. “It’s still quite fragrant, not old at all.”
Mick shrugged and started dusting the dirt and snow mixture off his stomach and chest. “Speaking of not being old, let’s talk about this subject-closed issue looming between us.”
“How does that work as a segue?”
Mick shrugged. “
I don’t know, you closed the subject earlier today so it isn’t really an old topic? Anyway, seemed better than grasping on the fragrant thought. So what did you do to Arturo?”
“Nothing. I find him very unattractive and he has body odor—the fragrant thought would’ve been a better segue.” Rowen glanced at the sky. “The night’s falling, we should get back and report.”
With that, Rowen walked around to the front of the house.
Mick growled at his lover’s back, knowing damn well it wasn’t that late yet and Rowen just blatantly admitted to meeting the other man. “You know, I’m really not liking this whole humor thing you’re developing.” Not surprisingly, Rowen didn’t falter in his steps. “Don’t think this conversation is over, either, buddy. We’re gonna have it out, long and hard, and after the sex, we’ll fight about this Arturo crap and then comes the make-up sex.”
He hurried to catch up with the insufferable man.
Chapter Six
Without Rowe’s eagle eye guiding him, Finn had to be more careful of his own footsteps on the trek over to the border and watching where he was going kept him from dwelling on the illicit quality of what Rowe hadn’t actually said.
Until he reached the barbed wire fencing that stood between Mountain Shadows and Watson’s ranch. The property line hadn’t changed in decades, the fence had stood longer than the cabin he lived in. Nature had grown up around it, and in places the wire cut cruelly into the bark of the trees, an arrogant, painful mark of man’s domination.
On this side of the fence, nature was revered, tended and respected by the residents. Every man, woman, and child at Mountain Shadows looked at the rising sun with wonder, listened to birdsong with delight, stood in awe of the majestic deer and elk. Of all the places on earth they could have lived, and there were plenty of options for them all, they had chosen this. Chosen to adapt themselves to the environment, to surround themselves with the sights and sounds that would remind them daily that they were guests on this green earth, to enjoy and not destroy.
Shadows and Ash: Pulp Friction 2014 Finale Page 5
