The policeman stood up and yelled to another patrolman across the lot.
“This Skip’s place… it’s on this road?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s about a mile down. He’s probably long gone, now.”
The other policeman had come over. He stood slightly taller than the first, wore a mustache and despite the cold air, had a dark tan. They talked out of earshot for a moment and then the first officer turned back to the car.
“I’m going to need you two to show us where this place is. We need to find him and ask him some questions.”
Javier nodded okay and the policeman turned and talked to his partner. Javier swung his fist hard and backhanded Robert in the chest.
“What the fuck are you doing? Now we’re caught up in this bullshit.”
“We’re caught up in this bullshit either way,” replied Robert. “They ask around and someone will tell them we were at Skip’s when it happened. Let’s just take them to Skip’s and we’re done with this.”
Javier looked back through the front window. He saw the cop get into his car and motion to them to lead the way.
“This’d better be quick,” he did a U-turn and headed back toward Skip’s. The patrol car followed and within a few minutes they were climbing out in the parking lot again.
Robert and Javier led the two officers into the diner where Skip and Andi were waiting at the counter.
“These two gentlemen said the owner of the car lot down the street was here earlier. Is that correct?” asked the tanned officer.
“Yeah, he was here,” said Skip, “He was in the alley behind the kitchen. He kind of caught me off guard. These two came back because they heard a commotion and they helped me get him out.”
“What kind of commotion?” asked the officer.
“He was just yelling. Kind of roaring like he wanted to scare me away.”
“He did this from the alley?”
“No, actually he popped up out of the dumpster and then followed me in here. I hit him and dropped him pretty quick. These two came back and we tried to get him to calm down and get some help, but he left.”
The mustachioed officer looked at his partner who was writing it all down, “This was about thirty minutes ago?”
“Probably,” said Andi.
The officer with the pad pulled his radio from its holster, “ Suspect is on foot. Last seen in town about one mile from the lot. He’s not armed but could be dangerous. Suggest a sweep.”
Javier gave Robert a withering look but Robert pretended not to notice.
“Can I ask what’s going on? What’s he a suspect for?” he asked.
“If you see him again, don’t confront him. Just do me a favor and call this number,” he handed Robert a business card with a handwritten cell phone number on the back.
“Why? I mean, the guy has been living here for years and never harmed anyone.”
“Well, it looks like that’s changed,” said the tanned officer. “His entire family was found murdered in their home this morning. If you see him, call that number as quickly as you can. We need to get him in custody and find out what happened.”
Everyone’s eyes went wide.
“His whole family?” asked Javier.
“Every one of them,” said the officer, following his partner out the door. “Keep an eye out and stay safe.”
“Holy shit,” said Skip, pulling his hat off and running his other hand over his stubbly scalp.
Javier looked up at him and grinned, “Too bad one of his wives didn’t have a ladle. She could have hit him in the balls and avoided all of this.”
Skip flipped him the finger as Robert tugged Javier back toward the door, “Come on. We’ve still got some shit to do.”
“So we goin’ to the cemetery?” asked Robert as they reached the Charger.
“Not right now. I’ve got a bunch of people to call. Business at Jim’s is closed until further notice. I can’t have this much heat sniffing around and feel comfortable.”
“It was a good thing I talked to that cop. Otherwise, you’d have never known.”
Javier grunted and put the car in gear.
“Am I right?” asked Robert.
“Don’t push it.”
Javier punched the gas and spun gravel into the air as he pulled back out on the road.
XVI
When Robert got home he dialed J.B.
“Did you hear about Anderson?”
“Yep. Just talked to Skip. He said the guy was whacked out of his skull. You think he’s on something?”
“Sure looked like it to me.”
“Craziness comes to The Wash,” mused J.B. “It had to happen sometime I suppose. We still open tonight?”
“We’ll be open, but it may not be the busiest night we’ve ever had.”
“That sounds like a good idea. You think Cindy’s comin’?”
There was a moment of silence on the phone.
“Look,” said Robert. “It’s obvious this thing with me and Cindy is bugging you. I’ll call her and ask her to stay home. I’ll tell her we need a guy’s night. She’ll understand.”
“No man,” replied J.B. “It’s not that. There’s some stuff we need to talk about. Ouray left me a message. I need to bounce some things off you and frankly, they’re going to sound a little crazy.”
Robert thought for a moment, “I’ll call her and make sure she doesn’t swing by until later. So, I’ll see you at the bar at 4:30?”
“Yeah. You want a ride? I can pick you up if you want.”
“That’s okay. I’ll bike it again.”
“If you want to be an icicle, go right ahead. If you change your mind though, call me.”
Robert hung up. He stepped out the door into the cold and quickly paced off the twenty yards between his gate and Ruth’s back door. He heard her turn the bolt and open the door for him.
“You heard about Anderson?” she asked, moving back so Robert could step inside.
“That’s what I was coming to tell you about.”
Ruth led him past the small bathroom in the hall and into the kitchen.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“I was hoping you’d offer,” he took a seat at the table and watched her use both hands to delicately pull out a cup and pour the coffee.
“Your hands acting up?” he asked.
“A little more than usual. Nothing I can’t live with though. Tell me about Anderson. Word has it you saw him at Skip’s.”
She brought him a cup and sat down.
“Yeah, it was weird. He didn’t say much. He wouldn’t take my hand when I offered to help him up. He called me ‘the dragon’ or something. Then he left.”
Ruth looked toward the window above the sink.
“Anderson is a strange man,” she said. “I ever tell you about what he did when he first moved here?”
“Not that I remember.”
“When he first opened up his car lot, I’d been living in this house about four years. He came by about a week or so after he opened his business and offered to buy my house. I declined. I love this house. You know that. I wouldn’t sell it to anyone.”
Robert nodded.
“So I told him I wasn’t interested but he didn’t seem to understand,” continued Ruth. “He offered me $200,000 in cash on the spot.”
“Holy shit!” said Robert straightening up in his chair. “Phillip Anderson offered you $200,000 and you didn’t take it?”
“Hell no, I didn’t take it.”
“Unbelievable. What did you pay for this place when you bought it?”
“About $80,000.”
“I’d have taken it,” Robert confirmed.
“And done what with it? You live like a monk.”
Robert smiled back at her and shrugged, “So what did he do when you wouldn’t sell?”
“He got a little angry. He said it was important to his family that he be on this land and asked me to think about it. I told him I would but likely wouldn’t change my mind. He only came
back a couple of times. On both occasions he was civil but I could tell he didn’t like my responses.”
“He never said why it was so important?” asked Robert.
“No. I figure he must be some relation to the Ogdens. That would make sense. Anyway, that’s why he bought that patch of land on the other side of the cemetery. Other than that, I haven’t had much interaction with him. I used to bump into his wives every now and then at the Farmer’s Market but that’s about it.”
“$200,000,” Robert shook his head. “That could have set you up nicely, Ruth.”
She took a hand and patted Roberts’ across the table, “All I need is what I already have.”
“So, do you think he killed them?”
“It’s hard to imagine,” said Ruth. “His wives and children were beautiful. They were always smiling and always so pleasant. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to harm them, especially him.”
Robert sat silent for a minute and sipped his coffee. Outside the wind was picking up and it rattled the chimes on Ruth’s front porch.
“What do you know about Ogden Cemetery?”
Ruth looked surprised, “Why do you ask?”
“I saw something weird last night on my way home. I stopped by the wall there to get out of the wind and someone walked out the gate. Is there a caretaker there or something?”
“I only know of the people who go in there to mow and trim. As far as I know, there’s no ‘caretaker’ per se. The gates are never locked. Besides, all those graves are pretty old. I think the last person buried there was in the 1930s. Did you get a look at who it was?”
“Kind of,” said Robert. “I think I recognized him from the bar, but it’s hard to say. If I’m right, then he’d have no business there. That’s why I was hoping there was another explanation.”
Ruth took a sip off her coffee, “Well, I don’t know anyone who would have any business there. Like I said, it’s an old place. Originally it was supposed to house just the Ogden’s extended family and I believe that holds true except for a few special exceptions.”
“Really?” asked Robert. “I’ve never been in it but just from the road it looks like there’s quite a few stones.”
“Well, remember that the Ogdens were Mormons,” replied Ruth. “It was a big family and as far as I know, the last person buried there was a niece. I ran across mention of her when I was doing research on the history of this house. Other than that, I only know that there are two mausoleums on the premises. One holds James Ogden, two of his wives, a daughter and a son who died as a child. The other holds Charles Ogden, James’ oldest son, his three wives and four children who died very young. As far as I know, Charles children never made it past their early teens. I never researched how they died but it could have been almost anything. It was the early 1900’s so if you got sick with something serious, you were a long way from getting help.”
“I can imagine,” replied Robert. “There’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask about. A week or so ago, Randall Thompson said something to me about a ghost town and said you’d know what it was.”
“He’s talking about Old Ogden Wash,” Ruth said matter-of-factly. “There were four buildings still standing about thirty years ago, but a boy from The Wash died while playing out there. Turned out most of the kids in the area were sneaking off and exploring the place and the buildings weren’t stable. A group of people drove out when the conditions were good and burned all four buildings down.”
“That was probably a good idea,” Robert said.
“The thing that’s interesting though is why the town moved from there in the first place. There’s not much history written about it. Old Ogden is the place where James Ogden and his group originally settled. Within a few years, it was a thriving community. It became a regular stop for wagon trains moving west.
“Then according to the records it was very suddenly abandoned and the new Ogden Wash was built up where it is today. This house was built right after the move. In all the research I did on this place, I couldn’t find any mention of why Old Ogden was abandoned. I talked with a historian one time who worked for the Mormon Church in Salt Lake City. She told me that although she’d never seen a written account of it, the story she’d heard was there was some sort of sickness that spread through the town. She likened it to a plague where the people who contracted it were quarantined in Old Ogden.”
Robert leaned back in his chair.
“Weird,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “So the people just abandoned it and left the others to die?”
Ruth nodded, “That’s what the lady told me, but again, she didn’t know if it was true.”
Robert let the information digest a minute.
“So how did the house end up in your hands?”
“Well, after Charles’ death it was inherited by his nephew, Richard Ogden who lived with his family in Provo. He sold the house to a family by the name of Johnson who raised four kids here. The husband and wife retired and moved to Florida just before I bought the place.”
“And it’s the oldest house in town.”
“One of two from that time,” Ruth confirmed.
Robert looked up at her a little surprised, “Two?”
Ruth nodded, “The Walker place was built not long after this one.”
“Cindy Walker’s place?”
“That’s the one.”
Robert seemed to soak that in for a moment. Outside he could hear the sound of the wind picking up and blowing past the windows.
“When are you going to bring that girl around here?” asked Ruth.
Robert sipped his coffee and smiled, “In time.”
“You should bring her over for dinner some time.”
“So, getting back to the cemetery, why did they close it?”
“I guess they ran out of room,” said Ruth. “Now everyone gets buried down in Panguitch.”
“You said there were some exceptions as far as who was buried there.”
“Yes. Cindy’s grandparents are buried there. There are a couple of others that aren’t Ogdens but my guess is they’re daughters that married off.”
Robert finished his coffee, “Mind if I get another cup?”
Ruth waved him on, “Help yourself. You know you don’t need to ask.”
Robert stood up and poured them both more coffee. When he replaced the pot, he stood looking out the kitchen window at the field of snow. It stretched on about two hundred yards until it hit a salted dirt track; the continuation of the road that ran behind the cemetery. That was the road that ran past Anderson’s. He’d never given much thought to how close they were to his house until now.
“You think you’re going to be all right if Anderson comes round here?”
Ruth grunted, “Shotgun’s loaded and behind the door. I don’t think he’ll come round though. He’s got no reason to bother me.”
“Well, I’m working tonight. We’ll probably close relatively early though. You know to call me if you need me.”
“I know,” Ruth smiled. “Don’t worry about me though. He’s not coming back this way.”
Robert caught her eyes,“I bumped into him on the way home last night.”
“And you’re worried about me? Seems he’s everywhere you are,” chuckled Ruth.
“Yeah, I guess it does. Either way, he was acting desperate. He was lying on the side of the road and he was really scared.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Nothing. He just got up and ran. He was hiding from someone. A car came by and he jumped in the ditch. Once the car left he just started running for town.”
“Did you recognize the car?”
“No,” Robert lied.
Ruth stayed quiet and sipped her coffee.
It was about 3:00 when Robert left Ruth’s house and headed back to his own. The temperature had dropped further and there were the first hints of moisture in the air. It was enough to convince him to call J.B. for a ride. As the two men pulled away from
Ruth’s house, neither of them saw Phillip Anderson hiding behind the half-buried propane tank.
XVII
Ruth Biden had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when she heard the screen door in the back creak open followed by a short knock.
‘It couldn’t be Robert,’ she thought as she left the sink and headed to the door. Parting the thin curtains of the window, she gasped. There on the steps, stood Phillip Anderson. His head was cut in a couple of places and one eye was bruised black and swollen. Even in the fading light of evening, she could see his hair was matted with dirt and under his ski jacket, his blue blazer and tan slacks were ripped, torn and wet with icy mud.
Ruth reached over into the coat closet, wrapped her hand around the shotgun inside it and pulled it up so he could see what she was holding.
“I’m not looking for trouble,” Anderson yelled. “Ruth, I need help.”
“You ain’t comin’ in this house, Phillip Anderson. You want help, I’ll call help for you. Right now though, I think it’s best you stay on the other side of that door.”
“You don’t understand,” Anderson pleaded. “I’m not looking to harm you. You know me, Ruth.”
“I don’t know you well enough to let you in this door,” she replied, putting her left hand around the stock of the shotgun and resting her finger on the trigger. “You try to come in here and I’ll put twice the holes in that suit than you’ve got now.”
Anderson shook his head, put both hands on either side of the door frame and gently shook it. It moved slightly.
“Look,” he said. “If I had wanted to harm you, I’d have put a shoulder to this door, walked right in and grabbed you before you had that gun. I knocked, Ruth. I knocked because I want your help. Please believe me. I need to get inside this house.”
Outside, the light was fading and with it, the wind continued picking up. Ruth could see it swirling snow around the outside of Robert’s house.
“It’s getting dark, Ruth. I’m not going to last another night unless I’m inside this house. You have to let me in.”
“I don’t have to do anything. Now go on out of here!”
Through the window, she could see he was beginning to look panicked. He started to shake the door frame. Behind him, Ruth saw the last small sliver of sun dipping down behind the ridge and for the first time, she felt scared. Instead of looking out over the miles of flat land toward the mountains, it looked like a murky lake bottom. The features of the ridge were there, but they were distorting; like trying to see a candle through darkly stained glass. The darkness seemed to be gathering itself up, smoothing itself off, growing.
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