Page 110 of In Cold Blood

“I’m sure we can get this settled once we find Dax.”

“Well, that’s simple. He came by earlier this afternoon.”

“How, if he doesn’t have a vehicle?”

“Uber.”

“What did he want?”

“He didn’t seem to want anything. He was acting strange. He certainly wasn’t himself. He kept pacing. Muttering under his breath. I asked him about his eye but he just waved me off. I offered him a beer. He…”

“What is it?”

“Thanked me. For my kindness. For not treating him like a criminal. I asked him if he was okay. You know, because he was worrying me. I haven’t seen him like that before. He looked nervous. And…”

“And?”

“His knuckles were red. Bleeding.”

“And you never thought to call me?”

“Of course. He said he wanted to see you this evening but he didn’t know where you were staying.”

“You gave him the address of the cabin?” Noah asked.

“Yeah.”

Noah scooped up the folder. “After this?”

“Oh, God. Noah. I’m sorry. I…” She brought a hand up to her head.

He didn’t catch the rest. He was halfway out the door and already on the phone to update Callie and to have her meet him out there. He reversed out, gunning it and reaching speeds of up to 90 mph.

The twenty-minute trip was extended by traffic.

Along the way, Noah tried to piece it together in his mind. Every scenario played out in brutal fashion. The message on the side of the truck. “GO HOME OR YOU’LL JOIN YOUR BROTHER, PIG!”

Could he have really been involved in Luke’s murder?

As he got closer to the cabin, the smell of burning wood followed by the sight of flickering orange flames and plumes of white and black smoke filled his heart with dread. As he came around into the driveway, he was met by the sight of an inferno.

The cabin offered little resistance to the hungry flames.

Consumed. Overwhelmed. The dry wood was devoured with a ferocity that was almost alive.

Noah jumped out. He could already hear the wail of fire engines in the distance. No doubt someone had called them. Noah squinted, lifting his forearm to his eyes as he skirted around the blaze.

“Ed!” he called out.

He expected to see him outside, down by the water, or at least on the phone with cops.

Instead, he saw him on the ground, face down. “Ed!” Noah rushed over and flipped him over, hoping, praying that he wasn’t dead. There was a large gash down his forehead. Noah placed two fingers on the side of his throat.

There was still a pulse. It was low but beating.

“Don’t you die on me, old man!” Noah moved him into the recovery position. The sound of sirens grew louder.

Firefighters leaped out of the truck and quickly assessed the situation. They began to unfurl a hose and connect it to the nearest hydrant. A chief barked out commands, directing his team to target the most intense parts of the fire.