by L. T. Vargus
Her eyes strayed to the beer koozies. Please God, let there be usable prints.
“I think I’m going to take a break,” she said. “Try to come back and look at it with fresh—”
She cut herself off mid-sentence. Something new in the video had caught her eye this time. Movement in the top left quadrant, from the camera mounted closest to the parking lot. “Go back. Back to when starts pumping the gas.”
Beck let out an annoyed puff of air and adjusted his hold on his cigar before typing a command. The video reversed in fast speed. When he let it play again, Darger held her breath and watched.
Yes.
In the moment just after the man removed the cap from the gas can, a car sped past the gas station. The headlights of the passing car illuminated a silhouette in the cab of the truck.
With a fingertip, she gestured at the screen.
“Rewind again and watch the feed from this camera.”
Loshak’s mouth took on a hard, straight line. His focus sharpened.
When he saw it, he sucked in a breath.
“Someone else was in the truck?”
“A girl,” Darger said. “He had a girl in the truck.”
* * *
By the time Corby’s crime scene tech arrived, they were all eager to give their eyes a rest from staring at the CCTV footage.
They’d zoomed in on the figure inside the truck, the same way they had on the mystery man. Frame by frame they advanced through the brief moment when she was illuminated by the lights of the passing car. It was definitely a woman. Young, with dark hair and an average build. And scared. There was an unmistakable panic in her movements.
Darger watched the tech examine the door handle using an alternative-light-emitting LED, but couldn’t keep her mind from straying to the girl in the truck. Who was she? Was she still alive, or had she already become yet another of Leonard Stump’s countless victims?
Then again, they still hadn’t proven it was Stump in the video. She had to be careful about that. If they were wrong, and it wasn’t him, they’d have wasted valuable time chasing ghosts.
Was Loshak giving himself similar internal warnings? She glanced at her partner and thought not. And that only made it more important that she keep her assumptions in check. Her feet needed to stay firmly on factual ground.
She played the video over in her head. By now she’d seen it enough times to have it memorized. The man hadn’t been wearing gloves, despite knowing he’d touch the door handle, the money, the gas pump. Would Stump take that risk? He had to know his prints were on record from his previous arrest.
Then again, both the money and the door handle would have loads of prints from other people. Perhaps he figured they’d never get a usable print off either surface. But then he’d gone and picked up that koozie. Was he that brazen?
Suddenly Beck was shouting and waving his cigar in the air.
“They’re getting this-this-this powder over my entire cash drawer! I can’t give this as change now, it’s ruined!”
Corby sniffed and said, “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. We’ll be taking that into evidence.”
“Evidence! But this is my money! You’re… you’re stealing! That’s legal tender, you can’t just—”
“You’ll receive itemized documentation of everything taken today, for which you will be reimbursed by the county once you submit the proper paperwork.”
“Paperwork! I’m trying to run a business here!”
Corby’s phone trilled. He reached for it while simultaneously trying to appease Beck.
“I do apologize for the inconvenience, but this is an official investigation by the Sheriff’s department.”
The manager’s tone took on a harder, mocking edge. “The inconvenience, he says! Well, we’ll just see what the Small Business Coalition has to say about this. I’m a citizen, you know. It’s my hard-earned tax dollars that pay your salary.”
Darger had to bite her lip to keep from smirking.
She glanced over to see if Loshak was enjoying the show as well, but he’d stepped back into the office to watch the video again.
Corby was on his cell now, holding one hand out and asking Beck to quiet down for a minute. The store manager was still reading him the riot act, arms swinging, face turning purple.
Leaning into the office, Darger nudged Loshak with her elbow.
“We might need to mediate soon.”
Loshak’s eyes never left the screen.
“Hm?”
Corby barged into the office then. Beck — still ranting — made to follow, but Corby closed the door in his face and engaged the lock.
Finally tearing himself from the video footage, Loshak raised an eyebrow at his partner. She shrugged.
“Sorry about that. Go ahead,” Corby said into his phone.
Beck pounded at the door, shouting about property rights and eminent domain, but Corby barely seemed to notice. His face was grave. When he hung up, he made eye contact with Loshak and then Darger.
“We got something.”
“What is it?”
“Car fire about a mile down the road.”
“The truck from the video?”
He shook his head. “Honda Accord.”
“Let’s go.”
Chapter 13
Corby led the way with his siren and flashers on, but the road was desolate this time of night. They didn’t pass a single vehicle on their way to the scene.
Darger caught sight of the fire from some distance. The bright orange glow was like a beacon in the night. Three squad cars were already on the scene, with one deputy standing in the road to direct any potential traffic away from the burning car and two others setting down a line of emergency flares on the pavement.
Corby pulled to the shoulder and parked. Loshak followed suit.
The first thing Darger noticed when she climbed out of the car was the sound: a rumbling, hissing roar.
The second thing she noticed was the smell.
It was the acrid, chemical stench of burning plastic, upholstery, and enamel. It stung her nostrils and brought tears to her eyes. She covered her mouth and nose with her hand, more out of instinct than because she actually thought it would protect her from the smoke.
Corby hailed the deputy standing in the road for traffic control. He had to shout to be heard over the crackle and pop of combustibles igniting.
“You call Fire and Rescue?”
“Station 56 and 48 are on their way, sir.”
Every inch of the car was consumed by flame and smoke. Darger’s eyes followed the dancing, twisting, billowing vapor for a time before coming to rest on the back end of the vehicle. What would they find in the trunk this time? The mystery girl from the gas station footage? Would there be another girl with her?
The heat of the fire prickled at her skin, even at a distance. Melted plastic sizzled as it hit the ground, so hot it stayed a glowing red, like the car was leaking magma. Then came a loud pop. Darger flinched, and her first thought was that it was a gunshot.
But Loshak pointed at the car and said, “Tires.”
He gave her a reassuring half-nod, but the orange glow wavering against his face turned it into something demonic.
“The air inside expands from the heat and eventually they explode.”
She studied the car. He was right. The left rear tire was gone, popped like an overfilled party balloon. A second mini-explosion followed and then another.
Each time, the group took a few steps back.
Just after the last tire exploded, flashing lights approached from down the road, and then the whine of the fire engine’s siren. The truck came to a halt, and Corby crossed the pavement to meet the two firemen who hopped down from the cab.
Loshak tapped her on the shoulder.
“Things are about to get real messy,” Loshak said. “I’d recommend sitting in the car for this part. Gets pretty nasty out here with all the steam and smoke mixing into a big toxic cloud. Not to mention t
he smell. Jesus.”
She gave the flames one final glance, then followed Loshak back to their car. They climbed in and closed the doors. Loshak turned the key and the dash lit up.
“Stood right out in the open last time,” he said, hitting a button to set the vents to recycle the air in the cabin. “Probably took a year or two off my life doing that. Like smoking three dozen cartons of Newports in the span of ninety seconds.”
Through the windshield, they watched the firemen get into position. A second truck had arrived by then, and the crews hustled around, uncoiling hoses, checking pumps and gauges. While one of the men let loose the first blast of water, the others stood by with the second hose.
It was faster than she imagined, only taking the single hose and a few minutes to extinguish the flames. Even after the fire’s glow had died, both of the men manning the hoses went around the vehicle spraying inside and out. At times, the steam and smoke were so heavy the car was completely obscured.
Again Darger’s eyes fixed on the trunk, and her stomach churned at the knowledge of what probably lay inside.
A knock at her window startled her from these macabre thoughts. She lowered the glass and Corby bent down so his head was level with hers.
“It’ll be another few minutes before they’re ready for us. But the cabin of the car is clear.”
“The trunk?”
“Welded shut, more or less. Probably they’ll have to resort to cutting it open.”
Indeed, it was only a few minutes later that one of the firemen emerged from behind the fire engine lugging a chop saw in his gloved hands.
The saw whined like a dentist’s drill as it bit into the frame of the car, bucking in the man’s grip and spraying the air with sparks. The other men shouted instructions and encouragement over the noise. And all around them, a haze of steam and smoke still hung in the air.
Neither Darger nor Loshak had spoken for some time when he broke the silence.
“I feel like I should get my lighter out.”
“What?”
He gestured at the men gathered around the destroyed car.
“We’ve got smoke, pyrotechnics, flashing lights,” Loshak said. “Remind you of anything?”
Her eyes slid over to her partner.
“Warn me if you’re going to start screaming out requests for ‘Freebird.’”
He smirked but kept his eyes on the show. She continued to ponder the idea in a more serious light.
“That’s why he does it, don’t you think? The spectacle?”
Loshak nodded and then said, “That and the all-consuming, destructive power of fire. He loves that, I’m sure. The elemental nature of it. Fire was early man’s first step toward shaping the modern world.”
The man wielding the saw stepped away from the car, setting the tool at his feet, and shrugging out of his heavy jacket.
“I think they’re in,” Darger said, springing out of the car without waiting for Loshak.
Her feet skimmed over the blacktop, bringing her closer to the grimy shell of the car. The ruined vehicle reminded her of the desiccated husk left behind by a molting cicada.
Two of the firemen gripped the rectangle of sheet metal cut from the top of the trunk and lifted, but one of the corners stuck, and it was another several seconds before they could pry the piece free.
Darger bounced on her feet in anticipation, then remembered Loshak’s comment about her sneaking peeks at her Christmas presents. The bouncing stopped. She shouldn’t be so eager, knowing what was likely to be inside that trunk. Still, the suspense of it caused her fingers to clench into fists.
Finally the men tore the top of the trunk away. Darger stepped closer, holding her breath as she peered inside.
It was empty.
She exchanged a baffled glance with Loshak, who had come up to stand beside her, along with Corby.
Staring back into the empty black pit of the trunk, she couldn’t help but feel lost.
It was a moment before anyone spoke, each of them privately mulling it over before they could form words.
“I don’t get it.”
Loshak stroked his hair. “Me neither.”
“It’s like… he wanted to get us out here to see the spectacle and then—”
Darger threw her empty hands in the air to finish the thought.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Loshak said. “I’m glad there’s no body. Obviously. But it does feel like a bit of an anticlimax.”
Corby frowned and hooked his thumbs in his belt.
“You think the gas station kid is being funny? Playing some kind of prank for media attention or something?”
Loshak scoffed.
“No way. You saw that kid. I’d be surprised if he could muster enough attention span to saran wrap a toilet seat.”
They stood and studied the car for a while before Corby spoke up again.
“What if…” he started but then trailed off.
“Say it,” Loshak said.
Corby sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.
“What if the girl was in the car when he started the fire, and she… what if she was still alive, and she ran off into the desert?”
He gestured to the rocky landscape surrounding them. Beyond the lights from the vehicles and the flares, it was pitch black.
“But the trunk was closed,” Darger said. “And all the doors, too.”
“I know. I just don’t have any better ideas.”
They stood at the edge of the road and stared off into the night, wondering what secrets might lay in the desert.
Chapter 14
As soon as Emily wakes, she can feel his presence in the room. Something off. Something aggressive.
She opens her eyes. Scans for him.
There.
He sits in the dark at the edge of the room, tucked back in the shadows. Motionless.
When he speaks, it sounds like he’s continuing a thought, like he’s been talking for a while now, whether she could hear him or not.
“In that way, it’s like all of this was meant to be. It couldn’t have happened any other way. Not for you. Not for me. Not for any of us.”
He swallows, and his throat clicks.
“The first time, I was so drunk, I don’t think I really knew what I was doing. Didn’t know why, that’s for sure. It was like a dream, I guess.
“But there was a moment that somehow made it make sense. Sobered me up. I had the two girls — mother and daughter — in this cottage they’d rented. Way up in the San Juan mountains.”
His tone is conversational. Relaxed, even.
“I was working maintenance up there at one of the resorts. Mostly cutting the grass in the picnic area, whacking weeds along the trails. And every evening I’d watch all of these girls disappear behind these cabin doors. Beautiful, mysterious creatures going into some other world. Apart from me. And I knew for a long time that I wanted to disappear there, too. I wanted to walk through one of those portals, wanted to be in one of those cabins in the worst way. On the inside.”
Emily shudders a little, a gesture she doesn’t even notice until the handcuffs tinkle against the steel bar of her desk.
The noise jars her out of her daze. Startles her.
She goes motionless. Drops her gaze to the floor. Watches the man’s face out of the corner of her eye.
The dark figure licks his lips. Blinks a couple times. But if he noticed the sound of her rattling chain, it doesn’t show on his face. After a beat of silence, his tale goes on.
“They were these weird little buildings nestled in the forest. Vacation spots for rich people, I guess. Wide wooden planks on the exterior the color of dark chocolate, and these gauzy curtains hung over the windows. Semi-sheer like pantyhose or something. You could almost see through them. Feminine silhouettes moving inside and stuff.”
He trails off for a moment. His eyes drifting up to the ceiling.
“I didn’t know what would happen inside there, but I knew that whatever it
was, it had to happen. It wasn’t my choice, you understand. It was destiny. It was a mist in the air that seeped into my pores. Wormed its way under my skin. Pulled me along.
“Even after I’d kept the two of them tied up in there for three days, I didn’t know I was going to do the first girl until it was done, you know? The daughter. Maybe seventeen. She bled out in the bathtub. All the color leaching out of her so fast, like the drain sucked that down, too.”
He inhales.
“And I remember she was so cold almost right away. Her skin was like touching raw chicken in the meat department.”
Emily’s shoulders jerk a little, and she remembers to breathe. Is he talking to her? Talking to himself? She doesn’t know. He seems far away.
“Her mama had watched the whole thing, you know. And she’d been sniffling a long time through the gag I had on her, whimpering and whatever, but then she got real quiet.”
He lets a stillness fall. Perhaps it is intentional. Or maybe he’s only recalling the moment in his mind, reliving it.
“She’d been the fighter of the two of them. Wouldn’t keep still, so we’d been fighting and everything. She bit the heel of my hand. Drew blood. I’d choked her out a couple different times just to make her stop thrashing. And I’d put a plastic bag over her head for a while there. One of those crinkly white bags from the grocery store, you know. I took it off her at some point. Didn’t know why when I did it. Guess I wanted her to see. To see what was going to happen in the tub, I mean.”
Emily stares down at the desktop, not wanting to hear any more. But he goes on.
“When it’s done, I walk out of the bathroom, and she’s sitting there on the bed, and she’s looking at me. I’m covered in her daughter’s blood. Just drenched in red. And she’s blinking up at me. Tied up. Hands and feet. A sock wadded up and duct taped into her mouth to shut her up. And she’s different. I can see that she’s different now. Changed. And I guess I want to know what that’s about.”
