Page 47 of Ink and Ashes

Colson

H olland and I pull up in front of my parents’ house shortly after six, the tension in my truck cab palpable.

We’re here to talk to my dad about the cause of the Welland Ranch fire thirty years ago, and based on the silence neither of us have been willing to break, we both have a bad feeling about how this conversation will go.

Without a word, we exit the vehicle and make our way up the front steps. My mom welcomes us with a warm smile and hugs, but she can tell something’s up. And when we sit down at the dining room table for dinner, my dad wastes no time cutting right to the chase.

“Is this about the arsonist?”

I glance at Holland, who gives me a soft nod.

“Yeah. We think these fires may somehow be connected to the Welland Ranch fire. There’s obviously something about this year and this town that is significant, and that’s the only explanation we’ve been able to come up with.”

Dad’s brows pull together. “That seems like a stretch, son. The Wellands are gone. ”

I jerk my head with a swallow. “We know, Dad. But why else would the arsonist escalate their behaviour this year if it isn’t related to something like that?

We haven’t had any new residents move to town, so Holland believes whoever it is has been here for a while, likely setting fires the whole time.

Which means something about this year in particular is important to them. ”

“It could be anything, though. It might be entirely unrelated to fire.”

“All due respect, Mr. Caldwell,” Holland pipes up.

“It’s not. After what happened at the church, I realized that this guy isn’t just an arsonist. He’s a murderer who uses fire as a weapon.

That’s not typical, which means there’s one hundred percent a reason for it.

And considering there aren’t any records of other large fires in Ember Grove in the past thirty years, I’m betting that reason has to do with the ranch fire. ”

My dad swallows roughly, glancing over at my mom. She looks as shocked as him, but something in her face tells me there’s more they aren’t sharing.

“What is it?” I ask, keeping my gaze trained on my mom.

She looks at my dad. “Tell him, Will.”

“Tell me what?”

Dad pauses for a moment, then stands from the table. He leaves the room, then a moment later, returns with an envelope.

“This was left in our mailbox the other day.”

I take it from him, and Holland leans in close to look too. The envelope is addressed to my dad, with only his name on the front of it. That means it couldn’t have been mailed—someone must’ve left it.

I open the envelope to find a note that reads, Joseph Welland is still alive , and I’m pretty sure Holland and I both stop breathing.

“Who left this?”

Dad shrugs. “We didn’t see. I thought it was strange but didn’t think anything of it, because I didn’t realize you guys had found a connection between these fires and that one, and there’s no way Joey Welland is still around.

But now…” he trails off. “Sorry, son. I should’ve told you ab out it sooner. ”

“Mr. Caldwell…” Holland starts, looking up from the note. “What was the cause of the fire at the Welland Ranch?”

Dad’s brows pull together while he thinks back. After a moment, he simply says, “Candles.”

We’re two days out from the next expected arson-caused fire, and we’re still no closer to figuring out who it is. Yesterday, we talked to more people around town to see if anyone else can remember anything important, but that didn’t help much either.

At this point, Holland is certain these fires are somehow related to the Welland Ranch fire.

With what my dad told us, it’s too much of a coincidence that these fires have been started by candles when that’s the same thing that started that one.

Couple that with the note about Joseph Welland, there’s no question that these are related.

But we still haven’t been able to figure out why. The Wellands weren’t super involved in the community outside of providing the town with crops, and even those in town who did know them can’t think of anything relating to that night that might help explain what’s happening now.

After we left my parents’ the other day, we took the note to PD, and Holland has been working with them to uncover more about that fire and figure out if what the note said was true.

I can’t figure out how it could be, given that there’s a death certificate for Joseph Welland and everything, and I don’t believe it would’ve been that easy for a homeless drug-addict to fake his death.

Then again, crazier things have happened.

I’ve been leaving most of the research to Holland, partly because it’s her strength and partly because this is all so overwhelming for me. The mere suggestion that Joseph Welland could be behind these fires seems absolutely insane, and I’m really not sure what to make of it.

In the meantime, I’ve been spending lots of time with Ollie over the past few days, both out of guilt for ever thinking it could be him and because I’m worried about him.

Checking in with him has been a good distraction from my reality right now, and I think he appreciates having someone around too.

He’s doing better since his release from the hospital, but it’s going to take him a while to come to terms with everything that happened.

The doctors wanted to keep him even longer at the hospital to give his burns more time to heal, but he was adamant about being at the funeral, so he’s been home for the past week and a bit resting.

Chief Whitlock and I had returned the day after everything happened to tell him the news about Finn, and Ollie has been beating himself up for it ever since.

I really feel for the kid, because he looks a lot like I did five years ago when Ellie died.

Mind you, he doesn’t have the press breathing down his neck blaming him the way they did me, but he’s blaming himself enough for everyone.

I’ve tried to tell him it wasn’t his fault and so has everyone else, but our words fall on deaf ears.

Ollie isn’t ready to accept that he isn’t to blame for what happened, and until he is, nothing anybody says will change anything.

I know that better than most. But that won’t stop me from trying to convince him otherwise anyway.

He hasn’t been cleared to return to work yet, and he won’t be for at least another two months.

He’s pretty banged up from what happened, and the whole team has been trying to help him through it, but there are some things people just have to deal with on their own.

For Ollie, this is one of those things. I did give him the contact information for my therapist Dr. Talbot, though, just in case he wants to talk to someone that isn’t one of us.

All my time outside of being with Ollie or Holland has been spent at the station.

There’s been a tension in the air on every shift over the past few weeks, all of us trying to cope with the loss of Finn and Ollie’s injuries.

Couple those with the weight of knowing the arsonist is still out there, that any of us could be next, has tension rising even more.

Holland went through all their files again yesterday and told me there wasn’t anyone who stood out, but part of me also thinks she’s keeping details of the investigation close to her chest so that I don’t start questioning all my teammates like I did with Ollie.

But it’s too late for that. Whether she tells me who she suspects or not won’t stop me from looking at everyone and wondering if it could be them.

I still haven’t told anyone else that the arsonist is a firefighter.

Beau and Dom have been following up with me about everything, but I’ve continued to keep that part on the down-low on the off chance that we’re wrong.

But given that we have two days until the next one, I figure it’s probably time I fill them in.

I’m not sure how either of them will take the news, but maybe sharing that information with them will help. They may know things I don’t.

I should probably tell Chief Whitlock too. He’s stayed out of the investigation for the most part since I told him we had it handled, but I know he offered his help when he spoke to Holland at the funeral. If we can’t get to the bottom of this on our own, it might be worth it to enlist more help.

But I’m not ready to do that quite yet. I need to talk to Beau and Dom first.

I stand from my desk and make my way over to Beau’s quarters next door. He’s on the phone when I broach the doorway, but when he spots me, he says, “Yeah, Mom. Hey, Col just walked in so I’ll call you back, okay?”

I huff a laugh as I vaguely hear her say, “ Tell Col I say hi ,” on the other end of the line.

I raise my voice slightly to say, “Hi, Hannah,” and Beau laughs as he finishes the conversation.

“Talk to you later, Mom. Love you.”

She says it back, then he hangs up the phone.

“How’s she doing?” I ask.

“She’s good. Has a new boyfriend named Greg. Once this whole arson ordeal is over, she’s gonna come up for a visit with him.”

“Sounds good,” I tell him, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “Speaking of the arson ordeal…”

His brows pull together.

“Where’s Dom? I should tell you this together.”

“Right here, brother,” Dom’s voice says from behind me. I turn around to see him heading toward us. “What’s up?”

I jerk my head for him to join us in Beau’s office, then shut the door behind him.

“What’s going on, Col?” Beau asks.

I glance out the window, keeping my eyes trained on the guys in the bay for a moment. Then I turn around, and with a low voice, I say, “We’re pretty sure the arsonist is a firefighter. And that it’s someone in this station.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Beau says, rising from his desk chair. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

I blow out a breath, then fill them in on everything. They both listen carefully as I share all the information we’ve found, including the tidbit about Joseph Welland, and when I’m done, they just stare back at me in disbelief.

Dom is the first to speak. “How is this possible?”

I shake my head. “I have no idea. But it’s true.”

“Holland have any suspects?”

“I don’t know. If she does, she hasn’t told me who. And I haven’t asked.” I blow out a breath. “I don’t think she’s found much about Joseph Welland either. Nothing to suggest that he is still alive, anyway.”

“If he is,” Beau starts, looking between the two of us. “Then it’s possible it’s not someone here, isn’t it? That he’s framing the fires to make us believe he's a firefighter?”

I shrug. I hadn’t thought about that. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Then let’s hope that’s the case. I don’t wanna believe any of our guys are behind the fires.”

“Trust me, neither do I.”

Dom’s brows pull together. “How long have you known?”

I swallow roughly, keeping my gaze trained on the floor. “Three weeks. Holland told me a few days before the church fire.”

Dom clenches his jaw. “You should’ve fucking told us sooner. Maybe we could’ve prevented that.”

I flinch as his words land. That’s a thought that has crossed my mind daily since it all happened.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to believe it, so I was pretending like it didn’t exist. Clearly, that was the wrong thing to do, but I can’t change what happened. And even if you’d known, you wouldn’t have been able to, either.”

Dom’s throat bobs as he swallows, then he nods. “Have you told anyone else?”

“Just my dad, and Holland told me Ollie figured it out. But I don’t want to tell anyone else until we have a better idea of who it isn’t. If we tell everyone, we could spook the arsonist, and I don’t want to think about what might happen if that does.”

The two men across from me nod in agreement.

I blow out a breath, feeling relieved now that they know the truth. I’ve become a damn good secret keeper through all this, and I hate it. I’ve never been one to keep things from the people I love, and I feel slimy doing so. But right now, I don’t have much of a choice.

At least Beau and Dom know now.

And it’s only a matter of time before everyone else will too.