Page 14 of Demise

So, my question is, how did this man know about her? How did he know that was Bones’ weakness?

I toss the disinfectant spray I used to clean the blood beside the corpse, slamming the hood shut, hearing its echo through the chilled wood.

I’m perplexed, to say the least, baffled by this whole goddamn situation. I exhale, listening to the crunch of my boots. Stepping onto the porch, I walk back into the empty cabin. I study the broken chair that lies in the corner—the iron chair that’s turned on its side. I’m sure Bones was tied to it, and I wonder how long he sat there.

Knowing the man well, I’m positive this was no easy situation for him. To seem helpless period, but helpless in front of Bexley. “Hmm.” He’ll be disappointed the person who is responsible for this shit show is no longer breathing.

Possiblyresponsible.

Empty water bottles lie scattered about, but there aren’t many of them. I remove my gloves and take Pop’s Zippo from my pocket. Tossing the gloves in, along with the cloth I used to clean up, I walk over and grab a piece of fat lighter that rests beside the stove.

Why do they have wood?

Why kidnap someone just to keep them alive and warm? Buying time, perhaps?

But for what?

I chuckle as I light the thing, tossing it into the stove. What a web of confusion here.

I watch as the fire starts to spark to life in the stove. The woods crackles and pops. I warm my hands for a moment while thoughts of burning the cabin down cross my mind, but I don’t want to attract any more attention out here than necessary.

Gunshots are not abnormal. People hunt in these woods often, but a whole cabin burning would bring a responsiveness we do not need. My phone buzzes and I slip it from my coat pocket.

“John.”

“I’m here. There’s a body.”

“Are we sure it’s the one responsible?” Paul asks.

“Hmm,” I say to Paul. I pause, and he’s quiet on the other end. I look at the glass of the window as the fire reflects off it.

“I see,” he says.

“Can you satisfy the pigs?” I ask.

“The news as well,” he says.

I nod even though he can’t see me.

“I’ll be taking a trip to the butcher, and then I’ll head back to the hospital.”

“Safe travels, brother. The roads are icy.”

I hang up and head to my car. I turn the radio on to keep my thoughts from trailing, but they seem to do it anyway. I don’t have a good feeling about this. I believe Miles’ hand in this was just bad luck on his part.

MaybeI’mwrong. Maybe he’s the idiot who decided his own fate by kidnapping Bones and Bexley. The only reason I could see is because Bones roughed him up a few times. Not because he didn’t deserve it, but I’m sure the man didn’t see it that way.

I just don’t think he was quite smart enough to pull Samuel’s death and the kidnapping off alone. He had to have had help. I’m very interested to speak with Bexley and Bones about what they learned while in the cabin.

I’m at the butcher’s before I realize. After pulling into the parking spot and stepping out of the car, I knock on the door three times.

“Come around,” Charles calls out.

I nod and climb back into my car, reversing. I watch for the sides of the building as I pull around back. Charles wears his butcher’s apron, and his hair is longer on the sides but tamed. The man’s face is aged with deep lines, and his eyes are topped with bushy brows. A lone light shines down on him.

“How’s it going?” he asks.

“Been worse days,” I reply, popping the trunk.

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