Like a chopping noise.
Ben pointed toward the clouds. “It’s Portia!”
Christina strained to see. “Who?”
A bright headlight shimmered through the smoke clouds. “I mean, it’s Mike, in Portia. He got the damn thing fixed!”
The chopping and whirring noises grew louder as the helicopter came almost directly overhead.
“That’s great,” Christina said, watching the flames catch the roof. “But how do we get from here to there?”
As if in answer, the passenger-side door opened and a red rope ladder fell out the side.
“That looks pretty dodgy to me,” Christina said.
“Consider the options.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Christina, I never cared much for heights, but I’m still going up that ladder. And if I can do it, I know you can!”
“Well, maybe, but—”
“You first.”
He walked her to the ladder and placed it in her hands. She slowly stepped up the ladder, one rung at a time. When she was halfway up, Ben stepped onto the ladder. The rungs were soft and they gave much more than he would have liked. But it held him. He was off the roof.
“Get us out of here!”
The helicopter eased away from the blazing church. Ben saw two heads poking out the side of the copter. It was Sheriff Collier—and Loving. The ladder was on a winch and they were reeling it in.
When he was about halfway up, Ben heard a tremendous crash below him.
He knew he shouldn’t look down, but he couldn’t stop himself. The roof of the church had crashed down into the flames. The entire building was consumed; there was nothing left but a gigantic glowing fireball.
Just in time, Mike. Just in time.
The conflagration had taken more than just the church. As Ben could see from his aerial perch, it had spread in all directions. The familiar loblolly pines were ablaze, as well as the kennel, and the garage that once held all that incriminating evidence.
But most importantly Ben saw that the fire had spread a hundred yards to the south.
To Coi Than Tien.
66.
THE FENCE SURROUNDING COI Than Tien, the barn, and most of the shacks, were all in flames. Ben saw people fleeing their homes, their dearest possessions on their backs, their children clutched to their chests. Others scrambled around trying to fight the blaze, to little effect.
Someone on the ground was organizing a bucket-brigade line from the well to the nearest point of fire. He couldn’t make out the face on the slender body, but he had a strong hunch who it was.
Sheriff Collier and Loving hauled Ben into the helicopter. It was crowded—five people in a small helicopter—but he wasn’t about to complain.
Before Ben could get his bearings, he was astonished to feel Loving wrap his arms around him—and hug him.
“Are you all right, Skipper?” An expression of profound worry crossed his macho brow.
“Yeah, I’m all right,” Ben said awkwardly. “But Christina isn’t. She needs medical attention.”
“No,” Christina said. She was staring out the window, watching Coi Than Tien fight the flames. “We have to go down there and help.”
“I can’t land too close,” Mike said. “Portia’s blades could fan the flames and make the blaze worse than it already is. But there’s a clearing on the other side of the settlement.”
Ben protested. “But I still think—”
Christina shook her head. “Take us down.”
As Ben suspected, Belinda had organized another brigade to fight the rampaging fire. This fire was several times as great as the one they had fought before, but this time Belinda had many more hands. She had three different lines aimed at different parts of the fire, radiating from the well like spokes from the hub of a wheel.
Most of the residents of Coi Than Tien had returned to fight the blaze, and many citizens of Silver Springs were there as well. Mike explained to Ben that the fire had broken out while he and Sheriff Collier were at Coi Than Tien investigating the latest death. Collier radioed for help. Every officer, off duty or on, turned out, and on their way out of town they raised the alarm at the Bluebell, Hatewatch, and just about every other place they could find people this time of night.
To Ben’s amazement, he saw Grand Dragon Dunagan standing on the sidelines with two of his ASP followers. He wasn’t helping, and for a reason: he was wearing handcuffs on both wrists.
Ben took a place beside Mike in one of the brigade lines. “How did you find us?” he shouted over the noise and the smoke.
“I got Portia fixed this afternoon,” Mike explained, “so I flew her to Coi Than Tien. When the fire broke out, we ran toward the church and saw all these ASP creeps in costume bolting out the back door. Collier and I arrested Dunagan and a couple of the others on suspicion of arson.”
“I don’t know about that,” Ben said, passing another bucket into Mike’s hands, “but I can give you some even juicier charges to work with.”
“Great. They wouldn’t tell me where you were at first, but after I leaned on one of the sidekicks, he told me you and Christina were still inside the church. I knew I couldn’t get through that wall of fire on foot, so I decided to try an aerial rescue.”
“How did you get him to talk?”
“Oh, you know. Held his head close to the fire. Threatened to handcuff him to the front door. That’s all.”
“Oh, well,” Ben said. “Nothing the Supreme Court would disapprove of, I’m sure.”
The buckets of water continued to fly down the human spokes of Coi Than Tien. The fire had spread to almost all the buildings, but it didn’t seem to be getting any worse. At least they were containing it before it devastated the entire countryside.
Ben had been on the line a full fifteen minutes before he noticed that the man passing buckets to him was none other than Sheriff Gustafson. Ben hadn’t even noticed. Their eyes met, but neither said a word.
Ben scanned some of the other lines. The other deputies were there, and he saw District Attorney Swain, too. Mac was there along with several of the Bluebell regulars. John Pfeiffer and Frank Carroll were there with Belinda. Pham and his contingent formed an almost continuous line. Colonel Nguyen was helping them, with a boy Mike identified as Nhung Vu. He had a patch over his right eye, but he seemed strong and able.
And then a miracle occurred. Ben heard the wailing of the siren first. The sound grew in pitch and intensity as it Doppler-shifted closer to them.
Ben saw the large red vehicle drive through the entrance gates of Coi Than Tien. It was a fire truck—a real one. And it was carrying ten professional firefighters.
“Thank God,” Mike said. “Collier called them in from Yell County.”
“You knew they were coming?”
“Yeah. But I was afraid the fire would be out of control before they arrived.”
The firefighters unhooked their hoses and started to work. The brigade lines kept going, but they cleared a path and tried not to get in the professionals’ way. The truck didn’t have access to a hydrant, but they dropped a sump pump in the well and had a limited supply of water on the truck.
It was slow going, but it was making a difference. The citizens had brought the fire under control, and the pros were now extinguishing it. They killed the fire at Coi Than Tien, then put out the remaining flames at the church and the outlying areas. By two in the morning, the fire was gone.
But so was Coi Than Tien. All that was left was black, smoking embers. The barn was the only building still standing, and it had suffered, significant damage. The church was gone, all but the charred remains. Worse, the mountain countryside between the two was ruined.
The fire had taken its toll on everyone. And everything.
67.
BEN STOOD IN THE center of what was once Coi Than Tien, barely able to contemplate all the waste and mindless destruction. Where would these people go now? he wondered. What would they do? What could they do?
Mike approached him, hauling Dunagan along by the short chain of his handcuffs. “You had something you wanted to tell me about this man?”
“Damn straight.” Ben continued to gaze at the pitiful ruins. “Well, Dunagan, it looks like your mission is accomplished. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t set this fire.”
“Maybe not, but you set into motion the forces that made it inevitable.” Ben saw a face he recognized running past. “Pham!”
Dan Pham stopped. “What do you want?”
“I’d like a few words with you.”
“I have matters to attend to—”
Ben grabbed Pham and pushed him toward Dunagan. “We’re all going to talk. And if you won’t stay voluntarily, Mike will arrest you on suspicion of arson.”
“Arson? What are you talking about? Are you suggesting I set fire to my people’s homes?”
“No. But I think you torched the ASP church, and that fire blazed out of control and spread to Coi Than Tien.”
Pham folded his arms across his chest. “You have no proof of these accusations.”
“You told Colonel Nguyen you planned to retaliate tonight. You must’ve heard about the ASP meeting just like I did. What I don’t know is how you found their secret meeting place.”
A tiny smile crept across Pham’s countenance. A smile Ben didn’t like at all.
“You followed me,” Ben said. “I led you to it.”
“I have had a man following you since you became counsel for that hatemongering killer.”
Ben grabbed Pham’s shirt and shook him with all his might. “How dare you? How dare you use me to further your terrorism!”
“Terrorism? Are we the terrorists? All I did was defend my home. They are the terrorists!” He pointed an accusing finger at Dunagan. “I saw more than just a church meeting tonight. I saw two men painting a black truck in the church garage. The pickup that has been used to strike against Coi Than Tien time and time again!”
“It’s true,” Ben told Mike. “I saw it myself.”
“These gooks moved in where they don’t belong,” Dunagan grunted. “They asked for trouble.”
“Where we don’t belong?” Pham countered. “We were here long before you!”
“No, my people were here long before yours.” Pham and Dunagan were standing nose to nose. “You declared war on ASP. And that war is going to go on and on until your people crawl back to the rice paddies where they belong!”
“We will not go back!” Pham cried. “We will fight you to the last man!”
“Will you listen to yourselves!” Ben pushed himself between them. “When in God’s name will you ever learn? Violence is not the answer. Hate doesn’t do anyone any good. One of you swears to fight, the other one swears to retaliate. And look what happens. Look!”
Ben grabbed them both by the back of their necks and forced them to look at the smoky remnants of Coi Than Tien, the huddled families that had nothing left and nowhere to go, and at the crest of the hill, the church that was now a waste heap waiting to be shoveled over and forgotten.
“Both of you were determined to hurt your enemy. And both of you ended up hurting yourself. Can’t you see how wrong this is?”
Dunagan turned away, his eyes closed. “I never meant for this to happen,” he said quietly.
“It’s too late for regrets,” Ben said. “As soon as I have a conversation with the district attorney, ASP is history. You might as well tell your men to start packing up the camp now. Hate is going out of fashion.”
Dunagan’s face flushed with fury. “You think that’s going to accomplish anything? You think you can stop us? So you run us out of Arkansas. So what? We’re everywhere. Everywhere. We’re in your schools, in your churches. We’re in your armies and your police forces. We’re the skinheads in Portland. We’re the KKK in Corpus Christi. Stopping me won’t change anything.”
“Mike,” Ben said through clenched teeth, “please take this … man away.”
“Gladly.” Mike grabbed Dunagan by the cuffs and hauled him back toward the sheriff’s car.
Ben faced Pham. “Once ASP leaves town, you can disband your resistance league.”
“We still have many grievances—”
“Who doesn’t?” Ben laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got to put your hate behind you. And start rebuilding.”
“There is too much to do,” Pham said, gazing at the vast destruction. “I cannot possibly—”
“You’ll need help. And I know where you can get it.” Ben pointed toward the front gates. Colonel Nguyen was heading away from them. Leaving.
“Colonel Nguyen!” Pham shouted.
Nguyen turned and cautiously approached. “I know what you will—”
“You were right,” Pham said, interrupting him.
Nguyen fell silent, surprised.
“I was wrong. Armed attacks were not the solution. We accomplished nothing. Nothing good.”
Nguyen shook his head. “At least you were willing to take action. To try. He turned away. “I am leaving—”
“Our people have suffered much tonight, Colonel. There is work to do. I cannot do it alone.”
Nguyen stopped walking.
“But,” Pham added, “I believe that we can do it together.” He held out his hand.
Nguyen clasped it and squeezed tightly. “Together.”
Several moments later Colonel Nguyen bowed politely. “If you will excuse me, Mr. Kincaid. I need to have a … conversation with my wife.”
Ben nodded. “There’s still the matter of the woman who was murdered,” he said to Mike.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Mike replied. “We found a handgun in the shack where her body was found. The bullets match. She wasn’t shot during the ASP attack. She killed herself.”
“Suicide?”
“Yeah. I think she’d been there for some time before she was found. Here, I took a picture.”
Ben took the Polaroid. He recognized her immediately. It was the young woman he had rescued from the first fire. The one who disappeared.
Mike pulled a sheet of paper out of his coat pocket. “While I was still in town I got a copy of the corpse’s prints from Deputy Gustafson and faxed them to the FBI database in Washington. We got a response about an hour ago and someone relayed it to Collier over the radio. Take a look at this.”
Ben took the paper and read. His jaw fell. He couldn’t fathom it—
But of course. It was the final piece of the puzzle. Now it all made sense, everything he had seen and heard, everything Vick had told him. Everything.
“Mike,” Ben said. “I think I’m going to have a chat. …”
“Want me to come with you?”
“No. Maybe I can get Colonel Nguyen—” He spotted the Colonel sitting in front of his home, locked in a tight embrace with his wife. “Never mind. You get Christina to a hospital.” After making sure no one was listening, he whispered a few more words in Mike’s ear.
“I’ll take care of Christina,” Mike said. “Are you sure you can do this?”
“I—” His voice cracked. He inhaled deeply; after a few moments, he was able to continue. “I’ll be all right.”
Mike nodded. “Good luck.”
“Too late for that,” Ben said. “Much too late for that now.
68.
“THANKS FOR COMING,” BEN said, when Belinda entered what was left of Coi Than Tien’s barn.
“I came as soon as Mike told me where you were.” She ran up to Ben and clasped his hands. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“I heard you were trapped inside that church. My God—you might have been killed!” She reached up and brushed some of the black soot from his face. “I was so worried.”
“Belinda—” He gently pushed her away.
“What’s wrong? What’s bothering you now?”
“Belinda—” Ben’s eyes began to swell
up. He fought it back. “Belinda. I know.”
“Know what? I don’t understand.”
Ben looked down at the dirt. He hurt so much he wasn’t sure he could go on. “I know you killed Tommy Vuong.”
“Me?” A horrified expression crossed her face. “Is this some sort of sick joke?”
“Of course not.”
“What could ever make you think I killed him?”
Ben unfolded the paper in his pocket. “Cindy Jo Simpson. The last name threw me off at first, but then I remembered that you were married previously. Your husband’s name was Hamilton, and you didn’t retake your maiden name when you were divorced. I had Mike check it out. You were born Belinda Todd Simpson.” He crumpled the paper in his hand. “Cindy Jo Simpson was your younger sister.”
Belinda fell back against several bales of hay stacked against the wall.
“I remember Mary Sue described the woman who visited Vick as resembling you, only younger,” Ben said. “And when I first saw her in the smoke of the Truong home, I thought she was you. Small wonder there was a resemblance.”
All at once tears tumbled from Belinda’s eyes. “How much do you know?”
“I think I’ve figured out most of it, but I’d rather hear it from you. Revenge, right?”
Belinda brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I told you my sister was always in trouble. And it was always my job to get her out of it. To set the world right again.”
“I know Vuong was accused of rape about a year ago. Your sister was his victim, wasn’t she?”
Belinda nodded. “It was a date rape. She had been hanging around him and some of the others since she met them in Porto Cŗisto. She followed them up here. I think she had a crush on Tommy, but at first he wouldn’t give her the time of day. Finally he asked her out. She was thrilled. So excited. So … vulnerable. On the way home he threw her down in the forest and started beating her. He was beyond mean—psychotic. She had bruises on her face and breasts that lasted for weeks.” Belinda paused, trying to steady her voice. “And then he raped her.”
“Didn’t she report it to the police?”
“Yes, but she had no proof other than her own testimony. Tommy had a squeaky-clean reputation, and everyone knew she liked him and that she wanted to go out with him. They assumed it was consensual intercourse. He winked and jabbed and told them she liked it rough. And they believed him.”
Perfect Justice Page 28