I thought he was right. It was just sad to hear. I didn't like bad things to happen to good people and I thought both Delilah and Harvey were good people.
“So what happened to Harvey then?” I asked.
“That's the million dollar question, I guess,” Jake said.
“Because it can't just be coincidence.”
“It could be.”
“But it's not. No way. All of this stuff happens at the same time?”
“Maybe he killed himself.”
“We found him. It wasn't suicide.”
“Technically, you found him...”
“Shut up.”
He chuckled, then shrugged. “I don't know what happened to Harvey. And my hope is we'll be gone before they figure it out because I think I've had enough of the goings-on up here.”
I sighed. I wanted to know what happened, but I was starting to agree with him. It seemed like fun was going to be hard to find at Windy Vista in the coming days and I didn't want to be a part of that. We were probably better served getting packed up and home to the kids.
We descended the bottom of the trail, leaving the trees and bushes behind us. The lower campground looked deserted. No one was out walking their dogs, no kids were out riding their bikes. But there were cars parked in front of campers so I knew we weren't alone. Jake maneuvered the cart down to a fork in the road and then continued on to the right. Then he slowed, leaning forward.
“What?” I asked.
“You smell that?”
I sniffed the air. “No.”
“Smells like gas.”
“Natural?”
“No. Like from a pump.”
He slowed the cart. The lots we passed looked abandoned, with rusted out campers and waist high grass.
“I don't think anyone's back here,” I said. “Why would we smell gasoline?”
Jake ignored me and leaned out his side of the cart as he drove, still sniffing at the air. Then he pointed straight ahead. “Well someone's back here.”
I looked to where he was pointing. The waist high weeds in the lot at the end of the path were flattened down in two rows. An old silver air stream trailer sat crooked on the lot, with two busted out windows, one flat tire and a sagging clothesline next to it. The flattened grass ran to the right of the trailer and disappeared behind it.
And I smelled the gasoline, too.
Jake hit the brake on the cart and we stopped.
I could barely make out voices on the other side of the trailer. Jake cocked his head to the side, then held his finger to his lips. The voices grew louder.
And we recognized them.
“Just pour it everywhere, I guess,” Jaw said, backing around the corner of the trailer, a red gas can in his hands. “Shoot, I don't know. I ain't never done this before.”
Chuck emerged on the other side, backing around the same way, an identical can in his hands, gasoline spilling out of it onto the grass. “Well, me, either, dude. I was just asking.”
“Just asking what?” Jake asked loudly.
Both of them froze and turned slowly in our direction. The blood drained from their faces almost simultaneously.
Jaw set his gas can down and wiped his hands together. “Uh, about watering the yard here. We ain't never, uh, taken care of a yard.”
“Watering a yard? With gas?”
Chuck and Jaw looked at one another.
“There ain't gas in here,” Chuck said. “It's water.”
“Smells a lot like gas,” Jake said.
“Probably because they used to hold gas,” Chuck said. “Yeah. That's why.”
“Are you going to set fire to that trailer?” I asked, horrified.
Both of them looked at me like they were seeing me for the first time.
Jaw then looked at Chuck. “Did you tell her?”
Chuck scowled back at him. “No, I didn't tell her. How could I have done that?”
“Well, how else would she have known?”
Jake had closed the distance between him and Chuck. Chuck realized it and dropped his gas can. Whatever was left in it spilled out and streamed toward Jake's feet. Jake took a step back and leaned toward the ground.
“Definitely gasoline,” he said.
“Aren't you guys out on bail?” I asked.
Neither said anything.
“Daisy, just pull out your phone and call the police,” Jake said.
“No!” Chuck yelled. “Don't do that!”
“We are so screwed,” Jaw muttered, shuffling his feet agains the weeds.
“Daisy, I'm serious,” Jake said. “Get your phone out.”
I reached in my pocket.
“It ain't our idea,” Jaw muttered.
“Quiet,” Chuck barked. “Or we ain't gonna get paid.”
“We ain't gonna get paid anyway if we go back to jail.”
“I'm not going back!” Chuck yelled, then took off running toward Jake.
Jake waited for him to close the distance, then slid over to get in his path. Chuck immediately recoiled as if Jake was going to tackle him and he fell to the ground.
Jake looked at me. “Well, that was easy.”
Jaw shook his head. “Man, you are so stupid.”
Chuck was sitting on his rear end, leaning back on his hands, unsure of what to do with himself.
“You said this wasn't your idea,” I said to Jaw, as I pulled my phone out. “What did you mean?”
Jaw bounced on his heels, like his feet were covered with biting flies. “I mean, it wasn't our idea.”
I looked around. I saw a couple of other abandoned trailers in the cul-de-sac. Overgrown yards. A red pick up. An old station wagon. Two bikes laid up agains one of the abandoned trailers, one of them missing a tire. But I didn't see another person.
“So whose idea was it?” I asked.
Jaw didn't say anything.
“And why were you going to burn it down?” I asked. “What's the point in that?”
“Just more trouble around here,” Chuck mumbled.
“So you're trying to make trouble around here?” I asked.
“It ain't us,” Jaw said.
“Well, I don't see anyone else around here,” I said, turning around, irritated. “I see a couple of old trailers. A truck. A station wagon. A couple of...”
Then I stopped.
My eyes moved back toward the truck.
A truck I'd seen before.
“Daisy?” Jake asked.
A red truck. That I'd seen at Delilah's office.
And a cold chill ran down my spine.
I looked back to Jaw and said “Is anyone else here?”
He looked at Chuck and his friend stared back at him. Then both of their eyes drifted back toward the trailer.
And the door of the trailer opened.
Davis Ellington walked out with a gun in one hand and a gas can in the other.
He smiled. “I'm here.”
THIRTY FOUR
“Drop that phone and both of you get your hands up,” Davis Ellington said, waving the gun back and forth between us, then setting the gas can down. “And you two knuckleheads can do the same.”
I looked at Jake, but he was staring at Ellington. He did have his hands in the air, though, so after I laid my phone on the ground, I did the same.
Ellington walked over and kicked Chuck in the butt. “Get up.”
Chuck scrambled to his feet and put his hands up. Jaw walked in my direction, his hands already aimed skyward, like he'd done it before.
Ellington frowned at us from behind his glasses. “Well, this is not something I counted on.” He glanced at me. “Lady, you have done nothing but give me a headache since you showed up.”
All of his small town, aw shucks attitude was gone. He was no longer the desperate salesman hoping to get our names on a contract. I'd been fooled and underestimated him.
“Me?” I asked, my mind racing. “What have I done?”
“You haven't left things alone is what you've done,” he said, frowning. “First you find Harvey in the bushes. Then you show up every time these two are on a job. Then you start asking questions.” He looked at Jake. “Your life must be hell, pal.”