Still, I had to warn Max about him. He had no idea that the playing field had changed. I was getting closer. "Max," I yelled. He didn't hear. I stumbled and bumped into a group of old ladies, one of which was Twila.
"Sorry," I said.
"You! How rude!"
I steadied the woman I'd knocked off balance, and opened my mouth to yell at Max again, when an explosion ripped through the air, knocking me back on my feet. I staggered, clutching my ears. Clouds of smoke and fire boiled skyward. A series of smaller explosions followed in rapid succession, each burst thrusting a shower of flaming debris above us. Shrieks and howls of terror vied with the roar of the blaze as people surged against me trying to escape, but I stood mesmerized, watching a crutch sail through the air, hang for a moment, then float in lazy circles back to the ground.
Chapter 26
"Max!" I screamed, and ran to the fire raging where the Powder House had been. Black, sulphurous smoke darkened the sky and ripped at my nose and throat. Heat reached out with the intensity of a furnace. Hot debris lay everywhere, sparking little flames.
The Aussie stood at the edge of the flames, motioning men in. "Over here!" he yelled. "We've got men down!"
Max lay motionless on the ground, partially shielded by the blown-over table. Flames licked at the table's up-ended legs. I grabbed his arms and pulled. "Help me, help me," I yelled. Two men pushed me aside and pulled him quickly out of danger's way. I grabbed another man running toward the flames with a bucket of water. "Here," I yelled over the fire's roar, "slosh him good." He doused Max with half the water in his bucket and ran off again. Max sputtered and moved his head when some of the water coursed off his face. He was alive!
A woman in jeans with a fat braid of hair bouncing on her back ran to me and knelt beside Max. "I'm a nurse," she said, putting one hand to his neck, grabbing his wrist with the other. Something whizzed past my feet. Sugar, Twila's chicken, raced like a mad thing, in and out around people's feet, perilously close to the fire. I saw Twila manning a water barrel, dunking jackets, blankets, sacks, handing them out to people who ran to beat out the flames.
The nurse flopped Max's arm back onto his chest. "He'll come around. Pulse is strong. Are there any others?"
I pointed to my left where another man had been pulled out. It could have been Monty. Two men were kneeling by him. What I could see of a leg looked burned. Where were Dan and the man in the apron? I jumped to my feet. I had to help. Max groaned and tossed his head. A middle-aged woman stood a few feet away staring at the chaos in open-mouthed astonishment. "Please sit with him," I asked her. "I'll be right back." I kissed his cheek and ran to help.
The Aussie ran past the blaze again and tossed some wet gunnysacks to another man. He stopped at a pile of debris and bent over. Glancing up furtively, he took something from inside his shirt and put it on the ground, then pulled at a piece of debris, and took off again. "Look for the others," he shouted to the man closest to him. "This bloke's dead."
But he wasn't. Even from here I could see the flutter of a limb. "No, wait," I yelled, running after him, but he had disappeared in the melee. Sugar darted past, brushing my ankle. I jumped a pole sticking out of a jackstraw pile of debris and saw a half-hidden man. One hand flapped helplessly on the ground.
"He's alive!" I shouted. I reached for his soot-covered arms, noticing, without really registering it, a small brown paper bag with a twisted-shut top and open slit gaping across its middle tucked close to the man's torso, miraculously untouched by the explosion and fire. A wisp of smoke... Sugar jumped the body with a flutter of wings, pecked at the bag, snatched something from it that looked like a worm, and raced off again with it dangling in her beak.
I pulled on the man's arms. He slid easily from under the pile for a few feet, then something snagged. Another man beating at the encroaching flames noticed my efforts and lifted the poles from the man's feet. I grabbed him again, dragging him over the paper bag, which broke and left behind a snail trail of black. He felt lighter than Max, and was much easier to move.
Through the soot a glimpse of red vest told me the man was Dan Lorenzo. I pulled him far enough away from the fire for safety. He didn't look good. Others ran up to help. I sent them after the woman with the braid. "She's a nurse." Sugar tore after them, then swerved back toward me, the thing dangling from her mouth trailing a wisp of smoke.
She stumbled. With a hiss-poof, a blinding flash of fire leapt in the air in front of her, then shot like a flash of lightning toward me. People jumped on the thin trail immediately, scuffling with their feet, slamming it with soaking sacks.
"Move him!" I yelled, suddenly understanding what the paper bag contained. I pulled at Dan. "There's black powder under him!" Someone grabbed his feet and together we swung him away. Others ran, terrified. A quick-witted woman slammed the torn bag with a water-soaked sack and another doused the remains until the ground was soaked.
I ran after Sugar. The smell of burning chicken feathers sickened me. "Sugar," I yelled, "come here." To my surprise, she turned and did so. I snatched her up, smothering the smoldering feathers against my body, and ran to a water barrel. I didn't see Twila anywhere.
"What have you got there?" a man soaking sacks and filling buckets asked.
"A chicken." I dunked Sugar's rear in the water to douse any remaining sparks and held her close again. She was shivering. "She's a hero," I said, tears rolling down my face. I knew now what she'd pulled from the paper bag was a fuse, and that what the Aussie had put on the ground beside Dan was a black powder bomb meant to kill him. Sugar had saved Dan's life, my life, and who knew how many others the explosion would have taken out.
Again I looked for Twila, but didn't see her. It seemed like a lifetime, but only minutes had passed. The rural fire truck sped to the back of the fire where the flames were strongest. A siren wailed. Wearily, I trotted back to where I'd left Max. The woman, who had been joined by a friend, was still sitting with him. He was lying in the sun, his face and clothes black with soot. She had covered him with a light jacket and was shading his face with her own hat.
"Thank you," I said. "Thank you so much." I sank down beside him, Sugar still in my arms.
Max rose weakly on his elbow and squinted at me. "Okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine. You are, too."
He dropped back down. "Don't feel fine."
"It's the Aussie, Max, Wiley Colton. It's him for sure. He tried to kill Dan. Don't let him get close to you."
I was too dazed to keep my voice down. The woman looked at me and said, "Do you need help?"
"Yes."
"I'll get my husband. Buster!" she hollered, motioning to a tall, beefy man standing with a group of spectators. They all trooped over. Five older men, two women, all in their fifties or sixties.
"Please stay with him until I can find the sheriff," I told them. "He might be in danger. Don't let a man with an Australian accent get near him. His name is Wiley Colton." I described him. "I believe he set this explosion. There's another man over there who needs protection, too."
I put Sugar beside Max and wrapped his arm around her. "Hold Sugar for me. She's scared. She saved my life. I'll be right back."
I took half of my troop to where Dan was stretched out on the ground. The nurse was looking him over. "Do the same for this man," I told them. "Don't let anyone close to him, or even see him. The Aussie tried to kill him once and failed." They nodded solemnly.
The nurse looked up. "I need some blankets. All the ones around here are wet. This man needs the helicopter. Would you make sure it's been called?" I trotted off, hoping the siren meant the sheriff was on his way. I didn't know what else to do, but felt confident that my elderly protectors would do their job well. You can't grow old in this country without developing a lot of strength and common sense. On the other hand, I was aware that I wasn't operating at a hundred percent myself. I felt shocky, my mind reeling with questions, fears, unknown danger, but action felt best.
I ran past the booths to
the fence and through the narrow walkway to the Hog Heaven store and its telephone.
There were cars parked in front of the store now, but I was sure everyone had run to the explosion. If Clyde had stayed with the store, I'd have him telephone, while I got blankets and pillows from the house. I tore through the door and to the telephone I'd seen on the back wall by the storage room.
Clyde wasn't there, but Yvonne was. She was in the back room, sweeping. I snatched the receiver. Sweeping? Receiver in hand, I stared at her."What are you doing?"
"Cleaning up for Clyde." She put down the broom and joined me.
"Didn't you hear the explosion?" I dialed Information.
"How could I help it? I figured they had enough gawkers, I'd stay with the store."
"Do they have nine-one-one here?"
She shrugged. Her cool detachment drove me wild. "Max is hurt; Dan is near death," I shouted. Anything to jar her complacency. "There's a nurse there. She needs blankets and pillows. Get them from Clyde's—"
Information answered.
Yvonne ran out. I followed her with my eyes as I spoke to the operator. Sweeping? Information dialed the number I needed. As it rang, I looked around the storage room. The shotgun shells that had been on the table by the reloading machine were gone. I couldn't tell if the tiny stones were still there; I'd have to get a closer look.
Emergency answered. Yes, someone had called; the helicopter was on its way. I slammed the receiver back on the hook and dashed into the storage room. The table had been wiped clean—no stones, no fuzzy-wuzzies—and if any other stones had been on the floor, Yvonne had swept them up. There wasn't time to go through the overflowing wastebasket and a quick glance didn't tell me if she had dumped the sweepings there.
Hurry, I thought. I had to hurry. Had to get back to Max, and Dan. I snatched a bottle of water off the shelf as I ran through the store and out the door. Questions spun like a kaleidoscope in my head. What about Yvonne? Had she swept the room clean of evidence? Or was she doing a simple act of kindness for Clyde? Surely that was it. I saw her ahead of me, running through the walkway, blankets under her arms. She disappeared past the rows of booths. I followed, struggling to open the water bottle with no success. I was through the walkway and past the empty leather goods stall when Charlotte shot out in front of me, her eyes fixed on Yvonne's back, her face contorted in the most horrible grimace I'd ever seen. I glimpsed Yvonne again, but then she disappeared into the crowd that ringed the still-raging fire. Then Charlotte. I followed.
Smoke hung in the air, acrid, choking. Disorienting. I panicked for a moment, then saw Max. His guards gave me a thumbs-up sign. They had moved him farther away from the fire. Sugar perched on his stomach. I nodded my thanks and peered through the smoke, holding one hand over my nose and mouth, the other still clutching the water bottle. I couldn't see the Aussie among the lines of men and women beating frantically to contain the edges of the fire. Nor did I see Yvonne.
The water truck moved slowly around the fire's perimeter, playing out a stream of water. I turned to where Dan lay, and saw Charlotte push through the men surrounding him.
"Hey!" a man's voice roared. "Break it up. Break it up."
I took off at a sprint. Yvonne lay sprawled on the ground beside Dan, the blankets thrown to one side. Charlotte sat on her back, pummeling her shoulders, her neck, her head. "You did it!" she screeched, emphasizing each word with a blow. "You killed Ronnie Mae! I know you did. How could you do it? How could you?"
Yvonne bucked and kicked, flailing her arms and legs, knocking Charlotte off balance. Quick as a snake she twisted onto her back, grabbed one of Charlotte's arms and landed a blow of her own. She got to her knees, then her feet. "Get this crazy woman off me!" But Charlotte clung with a tenacious grip, clutching her shoulders, shaking her with surprising strength.
The men fell back, apparently more willing to take on a wildcat than two fighting women. I wasn't much better, numbed by the flying words. Yvonne? Was Charlotte right? Yvonne killed Ronnie Mae?
Tears streamed down Charlotte's cheeks. "I didn't want to see it," she wailed. "I didn't want to know. But you did it, didn't you? I saw the blackness drop over you. I pushed it away because I thought you were my friend."
I tried to step in. "Charlotte." I reached for her arm. They lurched against me and I ducked back, afraid I'd fall on Dan.
Yvonne twisted her hand in Charlotte's hair, struggling to break her hold. Charlotte's grip loosened, but the words wouldn't stop. "You were going to kill Dan, too, weren't you?"
"Shut up!" Yvonne jerked Charlotte's hair, snapping her head back.
Dan, I thought. Yvonne wanted to kill Dan, too. Pieces began to fall in place. Yvonne and Colton. Dan's partners. The gem gravel. Yvonne sweeping the salting evidence from Clyde's back room.
I danced around the two women, uncertain what to do. I needed to stop them. Charlotte's words were turning into gasping sobs. "I saw you running down here," she said. "I saw the demon clinging on your back." The last of Charlotte's words were swallowed by the ear-piercing whoop of a siren.
Suddenly Yvonne broke free, drew back her arm and landed a fierce blow on Charlotte's jaw. Charlotte spun and fell, caught by one of the men before she hit the ground.
Without thinking, I stepped in and swung my water bottle with both hands like a baseball bat and struck Yvonne along the side of her head. She reeled and fell on her seat with a bone-jarring thud.
A heavy hand on my shoulder pulled me aside and Rusty stepped into the circle of spectators. With a swift glance he took in Charlotte, still supported by the man who had broken her fall; Yvonne, who sprang to her feet with a venomous glare at me; Dan, lying on the ground, the nurse once more at his side taking his pulse; and the circle of rather abashed men who had been guarding him.
"All right," Rusty demanded. "Who can tell me what's going on here?"
The men all pointed to me. "She can," they said.
Rusty turned to me. His shoulders drooped in weary recognition, as if to say, "Not you. Not again!"
I burst into tears.
Chapter 27
I'd reached the end of whatever it was that had kept me going. Completely mortified by my loss of control, I pulled myself together enough to blubber, "Dan! They're trying to kill him."
"Who is?" Rusty snapped.
"Wiley Colton, the Australian." Brokenly, I told him about the bag of black powder, the fuse that Sugar had snatched in the nick of time.
One of the older men stepped forward. He pointed at me and said, "She told us to stand guard over him. Said someone tried to kill him, but this one"—he pointed to Yvonne—"barged right in. Told us she was a relative and she'd take care of him. Guess we shouldn't have let her in. Don't know what she was going to do, but your wife here, she stopped her. Fierce little thing, she is," he said with a grin.
I stared at Yvonne, finding it as difficult as Charlotte to accept that a woman whom I'd liked so much could be a conscienceless schemer, or much, much worse. Yvonne turned as if to walk away, but one of the men took her arm.
"She wanted to kill Dan," Charlotte spoke up.
Rusty reached out and pulled his wife to his side. "You all right?" he murmured.
Charlotte nodded.
"She's crazy," Yvonne spat out. "I was trying to help him. I brought blankets and a pillow."
"I don't know what she was going to do to Dan," Charlotte said, "but she killed Ronnie Mae, Rusty. The night we went to Hog Heaven to get Opal's pictures, she went to Dan and Ronnie Mae's trailer. Said she wanted to say hello. Opal told her she didn't think they were home, but she went anyway. That's when you switched her medicine, isn't it?" she asked Yvonne bitterly. "When you came back I could barely see your face. You didn't have an aura, just a muddy pall clinging close to your body." She shuddered.
"What kind of evidence is that?" Yvonne jerked her arm out of the man's hold. "If anyone killed Ronnie Mae it was Dan. He's the one who had access to her medicine."
Doggedly, Charlot
te went on, "I didn't know what it meant then. I didn't want to know. You were my friend. I tried to brush it away, but the murk clung to you. When I saw you run toward the fire with the blankets I knew you were after someone else. I couldn't hide from it anymore. Clouds of blackness swept out behind you like wings of death." She covered her face with her hands.
"Hush, Charlotte," Rusty said. "She's right, it's not evidence."
"She's a crazy woman," Yvonne snarled. "She's out of her mind."
"Even so," Rusty said, taking a firm grip on her arm, "I think some questioning is in order." He flagged down a deputy, spoke quietly to him for a minute, and turned the protesting Yvonne over to him.
Charlotte was distraught. "I should have told you, Rusty," she kept repeating when Rusty turned back to us.
"It's okay." He rubbed her shoulders and made soothing noises while surveying the scene over her head. "Look, why don't you go sit with Max over there? Sugar's with him. Maybe you can find Twila."
She looked around, dazed, as if seeing the conflagration for the first time. "Yes, Sugar." She wrapped her arms tightly around her body and walked away.
"You, too," he said, taking my arm and urging me in the same direction, but I dug in my heels.
"I don't know what to think about Yvonne and Ronnie Mae," I said, feeling almost as dazed as Charlotte, "but I know the Aussie tried to kill Dan and I'm pretty sure he killed Opal, too. I found evidence. You need to pick him up; he's dangerous. Last I saw him, he was running around out there pretending to fight the fire. I think he set it," I said, remembering how Colton had disappeared behind the Powder House shortly before the first explosion.
Dead in Hog Heaven (A Thea Barlow Mystery, Book Three) Page 22
