by Kathi Daley
“You don’t think I’m intimidating?” Landon asked, feigning insult.
I smiled. “Sure, in a sweet, nerdy sort of way. But you also have an approachable and cuddly vibe going on most of the time. I’ll do the talking, but you can come along if you stay out of my way. Let’s go now. My feeling is Vern isn’t our guy, but he might know something.”
******
As I predicted, Vern was at home when we got there. He didn’t want to open the door at first, but I’d had the foresight to bring him a bag of goodies from Sarge’s kitchen. The chocolate cake was his undoing. He invited Landon, Yukon, and me in, but only for a minute.
I focused on the one-room shack in an effort not to allow my eyes to wander to Vern’s disfigured face. A lot of people with physical deformities and disabilities got on in regular society just fine, but Vern had chosen to live a solitary life. I had a feeling the real reason he lived this way was because of his emotional rather than his physical scars.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard about the explosion on the mountain,” I began, “but a friend of ours was killed, so we’re helping Officer Houston look into things.”
“I heard.”
“There are some people who think you might have been the one to set off the blast,” I continued, now watching his face closely.
He didn’t even flinch. “I didn’t.”
I smiled encouragingly. “Okay, great. Can you tell me where you were on Saturday night?”
“Here.”
Of course he was.
“Was anyone with you? Someone who can verify your story?”
Vern just looked down.
He obviously didn’t have an alibi, and while I was certain he lived with a great deal of emotional pain, I didn’t sense rage. “Do you remember me?” I asked. “From high school?”
“Sure. I remember.”
“I know you didn’t finish school, at least not in Rescue. Did you move after the fire?”
Vern’s expression grew weary. “Why are you asking me about that?”
I shrugged. “I was just curious. I guess I wondered what became of you after the fire. I know you live here now, but there was some time between the fire and your coming back to Rescue.”
Vern took several bites of his cake, seeming to ignore my presence entirely.
“Why were you up on the mountain that day, Vern? On the day of the fire, why were you there? I know you came back with the survivors, but you didn’t start out with them, did you?”
Vern set down his fork. “I can’t see how any of this is your business. Thank you for the food, but I have to ask you to go.”
I closed my eyes and fought the urge to sigh in frustration. It was then I remembered something I’d previously forgotten. “You were up there in the gorge with a friend,” I suddenly remembered. “I ran into you at the market the day before the fire. You were with another teenager I didn’t know. You were buying a load of food and camping supplies. You told me your friend was from out of town and had brought some fireworks he wanted to set off. We talked about it being illegal to set them off here in Rescue, but you said you planned to take them well away from town.” I looked directly at Vern. “You were going camping. Up on the mountain. You were going to go hunting and fishing and take the fireworks up to the gorge to set them off, where you figured no one would see what you were doing.” I paused as I picked up on Vern’s pain, which had grown intense. The worse his pain, the clearer his thoughts. “You and your friend were responsible for the fire that killed those kids and their chaperones.”
Vern put his hands on top of his head and began to rock. “We didn’t mean to start the fire. We didn’t mean to hurt anyone. We were just screwing around. My friend had some heavy-duty stuff with him and one of the bigger rockets got away from us and started a small fire. He took off, but I stayed to try to put it out, but it was hot and windy, and it spread so fast. Too fast. There wasn’t anything I could do. By the time I finally tried to follow my friend out of the gorge, it was too late. The only access was cut off.”
“You must have been terrified,” I said.
“I was, but then I saw those kids, and I knew if they died it would be our fault. One of the kids panicked and tried to run. He fell and hurt his leg. I tried to get him, but the fire was too hot. I don’t remember a lot after that. I think I was in shock. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital. My parents were afraid they’d be held responsible financially and legally for what I’d done, so when they found out everyone assumed I was with the church group, they told me not to say I wasn’t.” A tear slid down Vern’s cheek. “It was my fault, but I had to pretend it wasn’t. I couldn’t deal with everything, so after I got out of the hospital I took off. I’m pretty sure my parents were just as happy I did. I wandered around for several years before I came back here. I’m pretty sure they never even looked for me.”
I put my hand on my heart to keep it from breaking. One really bad decision had ruined the guy’s whole life. “What happened to your friend? The one who brought the fireworks?”
Vern shrugged. “Don’t know. I never heard from Zane again.”
Chapter 10
“Did you hear what he said?” I asked Landon as soon as we left Vern’s shack.
“I did. It was a terrible story. I feel bad for him.”
“Me too, but that isn’t what I meant. He said he hadn’t seen Zane since the fire. The guy from the frat rescue, Walter Ryan, said Zane had been bitten by zombies. That can’t be a coincidence.”
Landon stopped walking. “You think the Zane who started the fire is the same Zane who was bitten by zombies?”
“Zane isn’t exactly a common name.”
“True,” Landon acknowledged. “But the fire was in July and the frat rescue was in November. You aren’t saying this Zane was up on the mountain all that time?”
I narrowed my gaze as I considered. “Logic would say no. It would seem there was no way a teenager could survive all alone for five months on the mountain. More importantly, why would he stay up there? If he survived the fire, why not make his way down when he was able? But the frat guy said Zane had been bitten by zombies. It seems to be too much of a coincidence to be random.”
“You do realize there aren’t any zombies up there on the mountain, right?”
I glared at Landon. “I didn’t say Zane was actually bitten by zombies. I’m just staying there’s a coincidence we should check out.”
Landon took my hand and began walking again. “It does warrant some additional research. I guess we should have asked Vern what Zane’s last name was.”
“Hudson.”
Landon lifted a brow. “And you know this how?”
“He thought it. Vern, I mean. When he said he hadn’t seen Zane since the fire, an image of Zane Hudson flashed through his mind.”
Landon stopped walking again. “So you did it. You read his mind.”
I frowned. “Yeah,” I groaned. “I guess I did.”
“You make it sound like that was a bad thing.”
“That’s because it was a bad thing.” I looked directly at Landon. “Would you want to walk around with other people’s thoughts in your head?”
“No,” Landon admitted. “I guess not.” He started walking again. “I’m sure you just picked up on his thoughts because you were empathizing with him, which, by the way, was amazing. You really seemed to know how he felt and you got a lot out of him. Even though he doesn’t have an alibi for this week, I think we can safely take him off the list of suspects.”
“Yeah. He’s in pain, but he’s created his own form of penance for his sins, and he lives it every day. I didn’t sense he saw himself as a victim. Besides, when we connected, however briefly, I could sense a totally different energy. Vern isn’t our guy.”
“So I guess that leaves Paul or Walter.”
“Or the zombies,” I teased.
******
Landon and I took the dogs for a walk before we started back in
on our research. I’d called Houston and given him my opinion that Vern wasn’t our guy, and he was close to clearing his list as well. It looked as if when all was said and done, we’d end up with Paul Gentry and Walter Ryan as our only suspects unless someone came up with something new or we got back some physical evidence from either the shell casings Landon had found on the mountain or the photos that had been left for me. There were still the footprints in the snow to consider as well, but it was surprising how many men in the area wore a size twelve boot.
“I spoke to Jake while you were in the barn checking on your old mule,” Landon said when the dogs had taken up their usual positions and we set off across the meadow behind my cabin.
“Did you give him an update on our visit with Vern?”
“I did. He was as surprised as I was to learn he hadn’t actually been with the church group, and even more surprised to hear about your theory that Vern’s friend was the Zane who was bitten by the zombies. I think Jake’s afraid the stress has become too much for you and has made you delusional.”
“I’m not delusional and I didn’t say Zane was bitten by the zombies,” I argued, feeling a bit flustered. That was when I noticed Landon’s grin. I hit him on the arm with the hand that wasn’t holding the rifle. “You’re such a jerk.”
He laughed out loud.
“Did Jake say anything else?” I asked.
“Actually, he had some good news.”
I picked up a stick and tossed it for the dogs. “I could use some good news.”
“Wyatt is doing much better and is being released from the hospital tomorrow.”
I smiled. “That’s wonderful.”
“Jake’s planning to pick him up and take him to his place for a few days. He wants to be sure he can get around okay on his own and doesn’t overdo it too soon.”
“I bet Wyatt was thrilled with that idea,” I said sarcastically.
“I’m sure he was less than thrilled, but Jake isn’t wrong to worry. Wyatt doesn’t always know what’s best for him. I could totally see him trying to do too much and reinjuring himself.”
Jake and Landon had a point. Wyatt was exactly the sort to overdo. Besides, he lived in a dump with lousy heating. Jake had a much nicer place for him to heal.
“Jake also plans to reopen the bar on Thursday. He wanted me to let you know to come in for your regular shift.”
“I’ll be there.”
“And because Wyatt will be home tomorrow, he thought it would be nice for the whole team to get together and have dinner at the bar. Austin’s family chose to have him buried in Ohio, but the dinner would be the team’s memorial for him.”
I paused and looked up at the darkening sky. “I love that idea.” I stood a moment longer. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Landon asked.
Honey and Lucky were sitting at my feet and Kodi and Juno had just joined them. I was about to call for the other three when I heard a rash of loud barking.
“We should go back to the house,” I said, lifting my rifle in the air and taking a shot. When the noise had cleared, I called the dogs back.
“Is someone out there?” Landon asked.
“Not someone. Something.” I pointed to some prints in the snow. “Cougar.”
All the dogs responded to my call, and I suspected the gunshot had scared off the cougar, but my intuition told me to get everyone inside just in case. As soon as we arrived at the cabin, I sent Landon and the house dogs inside while I took Kodi and Juno to the barn to get them settled. While I was there, I fed everyone and cleaned out Homer’s stall, then made sure everything was locked up tight before I went back to the house.
“Do you often get cougars out here?” Landon asked.
“Sometimes. Why don’t you go ahead and get started with the research? I’ll clean the cat boxes and feed everyone, then I’ll wash up and make us something for dinner.”
Landon raised a brow. “You’re going to cook?”
I made a face at Landon’s tone of disbelief. “I’m going to heat up soup to go with our grilled cheese sandwiches, so I guess you could consider that cooking.”
Landon chuckled, then settled in at the computer. The first thing we hoped to find out was what had become of Vern’s friend Zane. We had a full name, Zane Hudson. From what I remembered about that day in the market, he must have been a few years older than Vern and me. Maybe three or even five years. Landon and I had discussed it and decided he would begin with a narrow search and then widen his parameters if necessary. He began with birth dates that would make him three to five years older than me, then added births in Alaska as an additional parameter. Vern had told me his friend was from out of town, but he hadn’t specified exactly what he meant by that. We needed a way to narrow down all the Zane Hudsons in the United States, so starting close to home and then widening the search seemed to make sense.
While Landon worked, I saw to my cats. Before the shelter opening, I’d taken in every stray that crossed my path. Some I was able to find homes for; others ended up sharing my admittedly tight space. Honey was the last stray I’d made a permanent part of my family, although I’d found homes for all her puppies.
After I cleaned the cat boxes and fed the cats and dogs, I called Kelly to check on the bears. The permanent bear cage was supposed to be ready to move in to as early as Thursday; I just hoped Kelly could manage with the dog pen until then. Ultimately, it would be great to have several wild animal cages at the shelter so we could be involved in both domestic and wild animal rescue.
By the time Kelly finished assuring me everything was fine with both our bear wards, Landon had pulled up his first set of results.
“I found a Zane Hudson born in nineteen eighty-five and reported as a runaway by his parents in 2001. The parents were in South America as part of a research project and Zane was attending boarding school in Seattle when he disappeared. I haven’t been able to confirm that he was ever located yet. There’s a photo of him in the missing persons report.” Landon turned the laptop so I could see the screen. His hair was longer when I met him, and he was a few years younger, but I was sure right away.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
Landon typed in some additional commands. “Now that I have a birth date and a social security number, I’ll do a broader search to see what he’s been up to since the report was filed. If he died in the fire, I probably won’t find anything. If he lived but took off, as I suspect, he would have gotten a job or a driver’s license or something in the ensuing years.”
“Tomato or chicken noodle?” I asked.
Landon looked up.
“What kind of soup do you want with your sandwich?”
“Either is fine.”
I headed into the kitchen while Landon continued to work. I really should learn to cook at some point, but I ate at the bar every night I worked, which was usually five or six times a week. And when I was off, I normally hung out with Chloe, who owned a restaurant and so took over the cooking duties, or I went out with Houston, or Harley when he was in town. I was almost never home for dinner.
Val had never really learned to cook either. When the three of us lived together, we either ate in the bar or brought food home from there. Sarge was such a good cook, why go to all the hassle of making something different from what he prepared?
I thought about Val as I stirred milk into the tomato soup I’d picked. I missed her every minute of every day, but somehow, I’d gotten used to her not being there. Sharing the memory of her last minutes with the killer had brought back the deep sorrow, loss, and hopelessness I’d experienced the first weeks without her. The depth of emotion he seemed to feel at the moment of Val’s death really bothered me. If he’d been a monster who’d kidnapped and killed her, or some random guy who’d happened upon her after she became disoriented, he might feel something when she passed into the next life, but not something as intense as the emotion I’d picked up that night on the mountain.
I’d been trying to
figure out who’d be affected by her death in quite that way. Sure, the search-and-rescue team members were devastated, but I sensed a level of hopelessness and despair I couldn’t quite reconcile with anyone other than Jake and me. I understood why Houston had put men like Vern Cribbage, Walter Ryan, and Paul Gentry on his suspect list, but none of them even knew her beyond as a casual acquaintance. Something wasn’t adding up.
“Any luck?” I asked Landon as I turned down the heat on the soup to low and put the bread for the sandwiches on the grill.
“Not so far. It’s early in my search, but the missing persons report filed by Zane’s parents is the last mention of him I’ve come across. It’s occurred to me that he might have changed his name if he managed to survive the fire and left town.”
“If he did, we’ll never track him down.”
“It would be unlikely unless his image is in a system. I could try using facial recognition software, but I’ll need to use my computer at home to do that.”
I set bowls of soup on the table. “You know you don’t have to stay here and babysit me. I’m perfectly safe with the dogs.”
Landon shut down his computer and pushed it aside while I went back to the kitchen for the sandwiches. “I know. But I feel better that I’m here, and I know Jake’s glad I’m with you too. We have a lot of work to do in relation to the investigation, so we’d be spending a significant amount of time together anyway. I don’t suppose you have a beer to go with this wonderful dinner?”
I went to the refrigerator, grabbed two beers, opened them, and set them on the table. I checked to make sure Landon had everything he needed, then sat down across from him. I started to raise a spoonful of soup but set it back down before I’d completed the journey from bowl to mouth. “Have you ever lost someone you not only cared for deeply but whose absence left you unanchored and terrified?”
Landon paused. “No, I can’t say I have. I’ve lost people for whom I’ve mourned— Austin, for one—but I’ve never lost anyone whose absence left me in despair. You’re thinking of Val?”