Understory

by Lisa J. Lickel

  He regretted suppressing the funny feeling he should clean the chimney flue. It hadn’t acted up before yesterday, though, and he hadn’t remembered Wally having this trouble, though there were a lot of things he’d never known about living in the cabin. He stared at the smoke. Never would, now, probably.

  Sven steered his pickup with much twisting of the wheel, making each snow rut seem deeper, bumpier. Cam’s stomach was already churning before they’d gone a half mile, following the red and black fire department ladder truck and tanker.

  “How’d you hear about this, anyway?” he shouted.

  “I was at the station already,” Sven hollered back. “The call came in, and I just knew it was your place.”

  “Did anyone figure out who called?”

  “County sheriff.”

  “So they don’t have any idea how long…” Cam let his voice die off. Of course not. It could have been as soon as he’d left. He’d been a little distracted, sure, between thinking about Lily and his appointment with Minerva, but not enough to forget about the fire.

  “I saw you take care of the stove before we left your place last night,” Sven said, as if he could read Cam’s thoughts. “I know you’re careful.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Didn’t feel right, though, that smoke from inside the hotbox.”

  “Nope. Worked fine after that.”

  “Hope your dogs are okay. I’m glad you’re not stuck out there with no vehicle, and Lily.”

  Cam studied Sven’s profile. Ole—he didn’t have to like him to trust him. Sven, on the other hand, would make a good buddy.

  “You fish much, Sven?”

  Sven took his eyes from the road for a couple of seconds to look back. “There’s some good holes over to Christmas Creek, up the valley. Some on the Yellow. O’ course you might want to boat on the Barter River flowage. Bass and such.”

  “Maybe we can try it next season.”

  “Maybe.”

  When they finally got up the yard, weaving in and out of the smoke, which hung low and wispy among the pines and birches, Cam got out of the truck slowly, staying away from the hustle of the firefighters. Lear and Iago howled and romped toward him, charging right through the gaggle of men and equipment. “Hey, there! I’m glad to see you too.” Dropping to one knee, he greeted the dogs, trying to settle them. “You guys all good? See anything, huh?” He wished they could tell him everything and was fiercely glad they appeared to be fine. Cam rubbed Iago’s black and brown pointed ears while the dog slobbered all over his cheek.

  “Ick, boy. Love ya too.” He switched to Lear, who stood more quietly, wagging his tail gently as he faced the action. Lear swung his chunky reddish-brown head between Cam and the smoking kitchen quadrant of the cabin. The building was strangely beautiful with icicles from the sprayed water.

  “Look at that,” Sven said. “Freezing on contact.” He patted Lear and headed closer to the fire trucks.

  Under the glittering rainbow ice crystals, most of the garage was gone, charred timbers and belching shingles in a heap. The house was being hosed, but it didn’t appear a total loss. He’d considered rebuilding the kitchen anyway, at some point. Adding a bathroom, a generator. He’d need a water heater. If he lived out here, maybe with someone else who cared about such things.

  But first, he needed to consider the insurance. Uncle Wally’s policy transferred to him, and was all paid up. What a terrible excuse to visit Rune Johnston again, but here it was. But if this was caused by vandals…how’d that policy go again?

  Cam stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched into his coat. Another car inching along his drive grabbed his attention. Everyone in the neighborhood must want a piece of someone’s tragedy. He squinted. This vehicle had Texas plates.

  Texas…sincerely not good.

  Dark faces peered from the windshield.

  “Who’s that?” Sven asked, as if Cam should know everyone who drove in.

  Cam swallowed. “The only person insane enough to drive to Wisconsin from Texas, in winter, is my sister. And she hates winter.”

  Sven whistled and chucked Cam on the shoulder. “Ain’t a great welcome, then? Hope they weren’t planning to stay with you.”

  Cam closed his eyes, groaned, muttered an insincere prayer for grace under pressure, and strutted his best stuff toward the towering rage of Georgia Weams.

  “If you would have called,” he hollered over the noise of the spraying hoses and shouting firefighters in the background, “I could have told you not to come.”

  “Way cool!” Devon, all of twelve, climbed out of the backseat, eyes and grin wide. All arms and long colt legs, he tripped over a ridge of ice and went sprawling. Raucous laughter followed from the other side of the backseat.

  “That’s enough, Hessia,” Georgia’s husband, Adam, told his daughter as he got out.

  Georgia stood with her hands on her silver down-coated hips, expression hidden behind huge sunglasses as she stared at the smoking cabin.

  “Guess we can go to back to that hotel now,” Devon said. “Do they have a game room?”

  “Quiet, child,” escaped Georgia’s taut lips.

  Cam shook his brother-in-law’s outstretched hand while keeping his sister visible in the corner of his eye.

  “We came at a bad time,” Adam said.

  Like any time was good. “You could say that.” Cam turned, aware he’d left Sven standing, and beckoned. Anything to prolong the expected unpleasant encounter with Georgia. “Adam, meet my friend, Sven.”

  Sven ducked his head, but came back up with a smile and a handshake. “Hi, how ya doin’,” the universal greeting, was exchanged. They turned as one to study Cam’s sister, instinctively waiting, as if she could provide all the answers she read in the smoke plumes.

  One of the geared-up firefighters approached the group. “Hello, folks. Sorry about your garage, Taylor.”

  The tag on the uniform said Captain Hadley, which corresponded with his white helmet. “Thanks,” Cam replied. “Anything show up about how the fire started?”

  “Officially—can’t say yet.” He turned and studied the ruins. “We tell people not to leave any paint or rags or turpentine lying around.”

  “I didn’t.” Belatedly, he made introductions. “Captain, my brother-in-law, Adam Weams, and his family.” Georgia turned at this and slowly removed the gigantic eyewear. “And my sister, Georgia. Kids, Devon and Hessia.”

  Hadley nodded at him. “Not a very pleasant welcome for you folks. Okay, then.” He pointed at the house. “Looks like we’re wrapping up. Even with this cold, there could be hot spots, so we’ll watch for a bit yet. The ice’ll make things a little slippery, so be careful. You have insurance?”

  “Yes. With Rune Johnston.”

  “He’s good. Call him, he’ll get here quick.”

  “Thanks for everything.”

  “What kind of snowmobile do you own?”

  “None. I never had one.”

  “Might want to call the sheriff, then, too.” He glanced at the others standing near. Sven bobbed his head and told Devon, “C’mon, let’s run the dogs over here. These guys love chasing things!” Devon opened his mouth most likely to argue, but an eyebrow raise from his mother sent him scurrying.

  “You were saying, sir?” Georgia said.

  Even Hadley paled and dropped his voice. “There were some tracks going around back. We had to step in some of them, but Chad got pictures first. They’re still good, though, farther out.”

  A bolt of anger down his spine made Cam clench his fists again. A flash went off, and he turned to Matt Heuer taking several shots of the firefighters, his family, and his ruined property.

  “Captain! Was it arson?” Matt called.

  Some friend, Cam thought sourly and folded his arms. Lear bounded back and howled. “Shush!”

  “Before you go, how much damage do ya think there is here?” Matt persisted, with his pen recorder in the captain’s face, an eager news hound expression
lighting his features. A little excitement in the big woods. But not number four on the list of exciting events, for sure. Cam hoped he’d had time to interview Minerva properly before coming out here.

  The beep-beep of a car horn and the arrival of another vehicle occurred simultaneously.

  By golly, there was Minerva ensconced in the front of Matt’s Chevy, politely calling for his attention and waving him over, at the same time a staid navy Buick with Neighbor’s Insurance magnets adorning the doors rolled to a halt between Sven’s pickup and Adam’s sport utility vehicle. Joy. Rune was here to the rescue.

  Too many options. “Excuse me, folks. The insurance guy drove in and so, apparently, did my lawyer. Matt! Knock it off. My sister and her family came up here from Texas. They don’t need to be a feature in the paper.”

  Matt glared but went over to the firefighters. Hadley trailed after the reporter.

  With a backward glance at his sister’s pursed lips and sucked-in cheeks, Cam hiked to Matt’s car first. Rune could wait a few minutes. Minerva waved her hand under her nose when the window glided down. “Phew. What a shame. This must have been a lovely place to get away from it all and write. And you have company, I see.”

  “Thanks. Yes, it was, and yes, my sister and her family surprised me with a visit.”

  “Not a very nice surprise for them, I’d say. Perhaps some of the cabin can be saved.”

  “That’s what I hope. Can I touch bases with you in a bit? My insurance guy just came in, too.”

  “Of course. Never rains but it pours. But first, do you think this has anything to do with our earlier conversation?”

  Cam hesitated but agreed. “Probably. The captain said there were snowmobile tracks through the yard. I don’t own one, and hadn’t any visits from anyone I know who drove one over. I haven’t looked at them yet.”

  “Documented?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm. Let me call the sheriff for you while you discuss matters with your agent.”

  “Thanks.” The window slid back up, and Cam joined Rune Johnston who’d introduced himself to Georgia and Adam. Hadley came back too.

  “Mr. Taylor,” Johnston said. “Cameron. Sorry about this, especially with the upcoming holiday and your lovely family here. But your policy is all in order, up to date. As soon as the investigation report crosses my desk we can—”

  “Excuse me, as soon as?” Georgia butted in.

  “Investigation?” Cam asked.

  Johnston looked at the bright, shining, inquisitive faces circling him. Matt, sensing discord and photo ops, wandered back and snapped some more pictures.

  “Yes.” Rune cleared his throat and smiled solemnly under his black hat. “It’s standard. Your policy has an arson clause. Very common, actually.”

  “I see,” Cam said. He’d suspected as much.

  “Arson?” Georgia’s voice rose.

  “And what is this clause?” Cam frowned at his sister, then waved his hand at his house. “I didn’t keep my important papers in the garage, but they were in a box in the kitchen, which you can clearly see might be a problem.”

  “It’s a sixty-forty compensation.”

  “So,” Matt said, “if someone burned down my business, I’d only get covered sixty percent?”

  Johnston’s already serious features under bushy eyebrows and slicked-back hair turned morose. “Forty.”

  Matt whistled. “Is that what I have for coverage? I’d better come in for a consultation, Rune. That kind of policy sounds useless.”

  “We offer our insureds the best policy for the most affordable premiums,” Johnston declared. “We carefully account for all the criminal activity in a given location—”

  “Speaking of which”—a new voice joined the conversation from behind Cam’s right shoulder—“we need to have a discussion. Special Agent Forbes on assignment with the Attorney General’s office.”

  Cam twitched when the agent extended his arm to shake Johnston’s hand, gloves and all. Trust him to show up. He didn’t even want an inkling of Georgia’s reaction. Devon returned and stood next to his father. “A real live FBI guy?”

  “I’m not with the FBI,” Forbes said. “I left a message with your receptionist earlier, Mr. Johnston.”

  “Yes. Perhaps—”

  “Perhaps you can do your business elsewhere,” Cam snapped. “What about now, Johnston? What am I supposed to do now?”

  “You can sleep on the davenport at our house,” Sven said.

  Cam was touched. “Uh, my family—”

  “Already decided to stay at the Starlite,” Adam said.

  “Am I to understand,” Forbes asked Johnston in a deadly idle tone, “your office makes and keeps records of suspicious activity that should best be shared with local law enforcement, not to mention your clients?”

  “I…uh, never thought of it like that before,” Johnston said.

  Minerva beeped the horn of Matt’s car again, Matt clicked away, and an SUV decorated in Sands County sheriff colors drove in.

  The grit of exhaustion sandpapered Cam’s eyes. Lying down under that fir tree where he’d found Lily, and taking a nap, felt like a good idea.

  “I’m going back to the car, Adam. I’m cold.” Georgia tucked her scarf tighter around her throat and frowned at Cam. “We’ll talk later.”

  Johnston pulled out a tablet computer and studied the screen. “Good news! You have the Super Comfort Replacement add-on. I’ll set up an account immediately at the Starlite Motel. Food vouchers, clothing, anything you need.”

  “Yippee!” Devon said. “Maybe they’ll let me stay in your room. Do they have a pool?”

  “No, they don’t, kid,” Matt said.

  “Thanks, Rune.” Cam could have gone there right then and shut the door on this whole business, though he was somewhat suspicious of the sudden appearance of help when Forbes made his remark. Still, he’d take it.

  “Good afternoon, folks,” a sheriff’s deputy said as he joined them. “Who’s the homeowner?”

  “He is.” Five fingers pointed at Cam.

  Cam introduced himself.

  “Deputy Gray.” He pulled out a notebook. “Seems you had some trouble here.”

  “Yes.” Cam stopped himself from voicing the snarky things he wanted to say. Allies were in short supply these days and included a set of twins—one of whom didn’t care for him, a federal agent he’d just met, and a woman who liked his dogs and looked good in his sweatshirt. He wasn’t sure whose side his sister was on.

  “Yo! Captain!”

  Cam and the others watched a firefighter jogging toward them. “You better come over here. We found something.” Cam really didn’t like the man’s expression.

  “What?” Johnston asked and then belatedly tagged along toward the back of the cabin.

  “Go back to the car, Devon,” Adam said, that parental urgency making his voice tense and tightening Cam’s shoulders even more.

  “Da-ad!”

  “Now.”

  Two of the firefighters who’d been picking at the charred area of the cabin had turned away, while the other stared at their boots. The messenger pointed. “There.”

  In the space where Uncle Wally’s table once stood was a blackened hunk of wood. Cam squinted, frowning. “What? I don’t see anything,” he said, feeling a little foolish. “Is that a roof timber?”

  Forbes stood at his side and leaned an elbow against his shoulder. “That would be your standard issue burned human remains.”

  “Oh my,” Johnston said. “I don’t think your policy covers that.”

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Lily raised her miserable face when Deegan poked his head around the door of Kenny’s hospital room after lunch. “I’m sorry, Lily. Your father can’t take a call or visitors,” he said. “Apparently he’s had his quota for the time being.”

  Visiting dear old dad was not high on her list of priorities right now, anyway. She chided herself over the relief. Someone else could share the glad tidings ab
out Art. “I only wanted to tell him what happened. He should be informed about family…events…issues…medical, um, trouble? Right?” She stared at Kenny, who still slept. “It’s not exactly an emergency, I guess. Not like he can do anything. I just thought it was right he should know.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Deegan didn’t leave.

  After a couple of minutes she asked, “Something else?”

  “I responded to a call at your sister’s place right after the biggest part of the storm. Your stepbrother was at your sister’s trailer.”

  “Were they fighting again?”

  “The trailer was empty. Your stepbrother claimed to be checking in on your sister and her son.”

  Lily stroked Kenny’s hair again. “I wonder how long he was gone—hiding out, afraid for his life.”

  “I don’t know about that, ma’am.”

  “And you said nobody was there? Did you or Art ask around, check if anyone in the park knew where they were? Berta was probably high and forgot to feed him. Maybe he was at the neighbor’s.”

  “That could be,” Deegan said. “At the time, I canvassed the area. No one reported seeing your sister or the boy.”

  “They’re tight.”

  “I figured that out. Yeah. Yes, they are.”

  “I hoped my father might have an idea about where to look for Berta.”

  “I can go out there, interview him.” Deegan stood feet shoulder width, hat in hand, twisting it.

  “I appreciate your help, Officer Deegan.”

  He stared at Kenny, the machines, and finally at her. He was one of the good ones, Lily thought. One who hadn’t been jaded yet by all the horror people inflicted on each other.

  Deegan blinked out of whatever reverie held him, and nodded. “Officer Jenner is due to relieve the agent. I’ll be back later. Ma’am.” He left the room. A slight commotion at the door a minute later indicated the next guard arrived.

  That must be the most boring duty ever. Who else had been visiting Roman? She’d been out of touch for so long she didn’t know anything about his current friends.