BM03 - Crazy Little Thing Called Dead (21 page)

Beans was barking excitedly, hopping up and down on his front feet and Hambecker laughed, tipping his head back, his arms still wrapped tightly around me.

“We’d better go back to the boat before Beans tries to rescue us,” I said. “He doesn’t know he’s too small to pull us ashore.”

“Can he even swim?” He looked at Beans.

“Like a fish,” I said.

Hambecker kissed me again. “Next time we leave the dog at home.”

Hammie pushed me up onto the paddle-boat and then placed his palms on the deck and lifted himself up until he was able to slide his knees on board.

“Show off.”

“Gotta keep you interested.” He smiled that wicked half smile that turned my insides to mush.

“Oh, I’m interested.”

Hambecker reached over and pulled me tight up against him and we paddled for the dock.

***

I got up the next day resolved to go look at the house. There wasn’t anything that really needed doing, Max had been taking care of the horses, and he’d gathered the surviving chickens and added them to his coop, but I wanted to go. I needed to see the damage for myself.

Hambecker was at the barracks with Tom. He may be taking time off from work, but he did need to start checking in regularly on the Hart/Puccini/LeDonne/Ledroit case. The Ledroit Case could have been called the MacGowan Case as far as I was concerned. It was my life that had been altered, but Tom didn’t see it that way. He didn’t want anyone getting too emotionally involved and going off half-cocked. Especially me. And I agreed with him, to his face.

Meg took me up the hill. We stood in my drive awestruck by the devastation. The smell shocked me. It caught in my throat and made my eyes tear. It was acrid and invasive and disheartening. The shell of the house still stood, sided with asbestos shingle that wouldn’t burn. The porch was gone. Every door and every window had been blown out. I moved to where I could see inside, although the smell just about knocked me over. The inside was a hollow hole. Black and empty, at least from where I stood. Everything gone. On the far side of the house the wooden chicken coop had burned to the ground leaving the metal roof warped in the blackened remains. Beyond the hen house was a mound of fresh dirt.

I looked at Meg. “Is that…?” I couldn’t finish.

“Yeah. Tom had your animals gathered after the fire inspector gave the okay. They buried… them.” All that was left of them was left unsaid, but images came to me anyway.

“What’s that?” Scuffling and something almost like bird calls was coming from behind my truck.

“Don’t know,” Meg said. “You don’t think it’s an injured chicken, do you?”

“I don’t know what that is.” We walked around the back of Meg’s car to give us some distance from whatever it was.

“Skunk!” Meg jumped and ran back around her car. “Get away! It’ll spray and our cars will stink for days.”

“It’s just Stripes. He’s probably wondering why no one is feeding him. I’ll drop in on Max and ask him to do it.”

“You don’t need to drop in, I’m here. Saw you drive up.” Max was coming up the drive looking a little more disheveled than usual. His hair was curling up in grey wisps around his head and one side of his button down shirt was un-tucked.

“Max!” I threw my arms around him. “Thank you so much for saving me.” I backed off and smacked him on the arm. “I can’t believe you went into a burning building for my quilt. You could have been killed!”

“I’ve been around fire plenty, missy. I knew what I was doing. I knew that quilt was your Grandmother’s and I wasn’t about to let it burn when it would take thirty seconds to pull it out of there.”

I hugged him again. “Thank you so, so much,” I whispered in his ear. “You’ll never know how much that means to me.”

“I have an inkling.” He wiped his eyes. “Dang soot still floating around. Anyway, I didn’t do nothing anybody wouldn’t have done. You were already on the porch roof when I got here. Wicked bad fire. I’m sorry Bree.”

“Well, it had some help. The place was doused in accelerant before it was lit. Tom thinks I was drugged.”

Stripes came snuffling around our feet. Meg squeaked, “No!” and got in her car. Max bent down and petted the skunk.

“I’ve been feeding him, but he’s wicked distraught. I think he misses Diesel, Bree.”

“You handle him, Max?”

“Sure. I get a little skunky, but he never threatens to spray. You should have his scent glands removed; he’d make a fine pet.”

“I don’t know. If I did that, he couldn’t defend himself.” I looked at the creature rubbing against Max’s legs like a cat.

“He’s already dependent on you, Bree. Sure, he lives in the wild, but you already feed him. And since the house burned he’s been hanging around moping. Mourning for his friend.”

“I’ll think about it, but I can’t take him to Meg’s. The dogs would kill him. Maybe when I have a place of my own again.”

“He could come live with my cats.”

“Max, it’s not something I can arrange right now. I’m sorry, but I can’t focus on him.”

“How about I just take him on up to my house. He can live in the barn with the outside cats; I don’t think the missus will fuss about that. And we can figure out the rest when you’re settled.”

I hugged him again. “Thank you. You always take care of me.”

Max looked at the ground. “Well now, you take care of me too. That’s what neighbors are for.”

He left soon after, tucking Stripes under his arm like there wasn’t any danger of getting sprayed at all. Meg got out of the car and came to stand by me.

“That man is bat shit crazy. Picking up a wild skunk. It could be rabid.”

“Stripes isn’t rabid. The vet came out and immunized him when he first adopted me. Max is right. I should have him de-skunked. He’d be a good companion for Beans.”

Meg started for the car. “I’m heading home. You coming?”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’m going to take a look around. I’ll bring my truck down the hill.”

I waved as she drove away, and went to stand by the grave of my animals. My companions, really. My family. I squatted and put my hand flat on the dirt. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry I couldn’t save you.” And I spoke their names. “Beagle Annie, Tank, Ranger, Diesel, Annabelle Cat.” Tears ran down my face and watered the dirt. Then I went to the barn and got my wheel barrow, pushing it to a rocky spot at the bottom of the pasture. I gathered as many stones as I thought I could push up the hill. Sweat dripped off me as I muscled the load to the grave. I unloaded the rocks onto the grave and went for more.

I lost count of the number of times I went back for more rocks, but I didn’t stop until every inch of fresh dirt was covered and the pile was a good two feet high. Then I rolled the barrow back into the barn, I glanced into the tack room as I went to grab my spare keys and saw the dog beds in a line under the saddle racks. My mind filled with the image of the four of them lying there, keeping watch while I polished bridles, with Annabelle Cat curled on a saddle above them.

Rage filled me, and burned.

***

Hambecker found me sitting on the rocks with my hands and feet in the water. I had blisters on my palms and the cold water of the White River was taking the sting away. He moved my dusty shoes away from the edge and squatted down next to me. He looked uncomfortable in his heavy work boots, black jeans and a buttoned up button down shirt.

“Trouble,” he said.

“Hambecker.”

“How long have you been down here?”

“Not too long. Take off your shoes and stay awhile,” I said.

“Not really my style, but thanks for the invitation.”

“You’re just going to squat there until I’m ready to go?”

“You have your own vehicle. I don’t have to wait until you’re ready.”

I smiled the sweetest, most accepting smile I could manage under the circumstances. “I’ll see you back at Meg’s I’ll be there for dinner.”

Hambecker sighed and unlaced his work boots. He sat on his butt and pulled them off. “I’m going to regret this,” he said and plunged his feet in the water.

“You’re supposed to roll up your pants.” I lifted one leg from the water. “So they don’t get wet.”

“Again, not my style.”

I watched the river slide past his legs, the fabric wicking the water up toward his knees and shrugged. If I was to be truthful the whole pant-leg-in-the-water thing was kind of sexy, and my heart did little flip-flops over the fact he’d put his feet in the water at all. I was turning into an idiot where Hambecker was concerned. I leaned into his shoulder and caught his smile.

“Hammie.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, I was just saying your name. You forgot to tell me not to call you that.”

“I’m finding that futile. I’ve surrendered. You win.”

“No, that’s not right. You can’t surrender yet. Try again.” I paused. “Hammie.”

“Don’t call me that, Bella.”

“Ugh. I hate being called Bella. Rewind. Hammie?”

“Don’t call me that, please.”

“That’s better. I think I’ll call you Hammer instead.” I laughed at my own humor and was surprised to see him considering the nickname.

“You want to call me Hammer?”

“Maybe
The
Hammer.”

His lips twitched until he couldn’t hold it in and he grinned. “The Hammer?”

“It was that or Hamster, and I didn’t think you’d appreciate that as much.”

“Hamster? Yeah, no. Hammer I can live with.”

“You don’t want me to call you Hammie anymore?”

“No. You can call me Hammie if you want. As long as we’re not in public. I don’t want it spreading.”

I smiled. “So it would be my special name for you? The thing I call you in intimate moments?”

“Don’t push it, MacGowan.”

“Is this another one of those door and window things?”

“Something like that.” He put his arm around me. “I’d like to kiss you again now, if that’s alright?”

“Let’s get something straight right now, shall we? You never, never have to ask me if you can kiss me. Is that…” But I didn’t get the chance to finish because he’d taken my face in his hands and my mind shut down.

After what seemed like both and eternity and an instant—sorry, but when my mind shuts down I can only come up with clichés—Hambecker broke off the kiss.

“Let’s get out of here before someone shows up and tells us to get a room.”

“Hmm.” I looked at the red spots and blisters on my palms. The numbness from the river had worn off and they were hurting again.

“What did you do?”

“I felt the need to cover the dogs’ grave with stone.” My voice caught and he slid his arm around me. “I guess I let my hands get soft. Been letting Max do more than his share of the work.”

Hambecker took my hand and ran his fingers gently over the palm. “I would have helped you.”

“I know. It was something I had to do myself. Atonement or something.”

“What do you have to atone for?”

“For not being able to save them. For not hearing anything before it was too late.” I took in some air trying to keep the tears at bay.

“You were drugged, Bree. And the accelerant was planted when you weren’t there. The basement was loaded with hay and wood pallets. Some gasoline was used, but really it probably would have burned fine without it. It was an old home; once the timber started burning there wasn’t much to stop it. The animals would have died of smoke inhalation, not from the fire.”

“But why didn’t they wake me? They should have been howling and jumping on the bed.”

He looked down at the water and sighed. “I didn’t want to be the one to have to tell you this. It looks as though they were all locked in the basement before the fire was started. Annie was with you so they couldn’t get to her.”

“Annabelle Cat? She was already dead when Annie went to get her? Damn it!” I dashed tears away. “I want to be able to talk about this without the fucking waterworks.”

He hugged me too him with both arms. “Give yourself a break. It’s brand new. If you shut down it will just take you longer to recover. Cry now. We’ll talk again later.”

“I don’t want to cry,” I sobbed into his shirt. “I hate to cry. It’s so girly.” But the tears had gotten hold of me and I couldn’t stop.

“You are a girl, Trouble, so I wouldn’t worry about it.” He rocked me while I cried, stroking my hair. I sniffed and choked for a long time trying to calm myself. A horrible empty pain filled me when I cried. As much as I knew I needed to feel it, I didn’t want to. It felt like the world would never be the same again.

After a while Hambecker said, “I don’t know about you, but my feet are numb. Can we get out of here before they break off and float down river?”

I disengaged myself from Hammie and wiped my face on my dirty t-shirt. We picked up our shoes and walked gingerly over the warm rocks to the dirt patch where the vehicles were parked.

“I hate to make you drive yourself. Do you want to leave your truck here? We can come back and get it later.”

“No. I’m a big girl. I can drive my truck back to Meg’s.”

He planted a kiss on my head. “I’ll see you there.”

The ten minutes it took to get to Meg’s house was enough for me to pull myself together. What remained in my mind was revenge. I wanted to burn every last thing belonging to Michèle Ledroit. I wondered how difficult it would be to find out how many properties she owned. I’d burn them one by one, shrinking her world as I came for her. Taking out everything she’d ever loved. Fire burned in me and I was going to let it out.

I wasn’t sure if I should talk to Hambecker about burning Ledroit or not. I knew he was with me, but there would be constraints. He’d be satisfied with jail. I would not. Although maybe jail, after I’d destroyed her world. But that could escalate into a two-woman war. It would be better to make it final. After I’d destroyed her. That was crucial. She had to be totally devastated before she died. She had to know what she’d done and that I wouldn’t let it go. You don’t fucking mess with my loved ones.

Chapter Fourteen

I embraced all the clichés that I’d ever heard about anger. It burned hot in me, pushing aside the grief. It vaporized all the civilized, cultured or sympathetic parts that had remained after the fire. The hatred ignited vengeance and gave me the justification to be inhuman. I knew it, I saw it, but I didn’t even try to hold on to my humanity. If I let myself think about it for too long it scared me. I didn’t think. I grabbed on to the inferno and held it to me.