Page 139 of The River We Remember

“What do you think, Connie?” she said.

“About what?”

“Tyler Creasy.”

“One shot and it wasn’t to take out Grange. I think the man came to the end he wanted. Maybe deserved.”

Charlie wondered aloud if his end had been from that single shotgun blast they’d heard, or if the fire had been the agent of his demise.

“Does it matter, Charlie?” Graff said. “His misery’s over, and the misery he caused.”

Brody stood up. “I need to get inside the barn.”

“What for?” Tom said.

“To make sure Creasy was in there.”

“Nobody saw him leave.”

“People miss things.”

“Wait here.” Tom walked toward the pumpers.

Graff said, “He’s done for, you know that, Brody.”

“I need to be sure,” the sheriff replied.

Tom came back with Norm Castle, the fire chief, who was looking none too happy. “I understand you want to go in there, Brody,” Castle said.

“Yeah. And now.”

“I’d prefer you wait until I’m sure everything’s cooled down and we’ve got no hot spots. I also don’t know how damaged that floor is and what kind of weight it will or won’t hold.”

“I’ll be careful, Norm.”

“If you go, I don’t want you going in there alone.”

“I’ll go with him,” Tom said.

“Okay,” Castle said. “I guess we’re ready when you are.”

Brody, Tom, and Castle headed to the barn, with Sam Wicklow trailing behind, moving that stiff leg as rapidly as he could to keep up. Castle gave orders to the firefighters, and the streams of water that arced against and into the barn were cut off. Castle handed Brody and Tom each an ax, then accompanied them as far as the barn door, or what was left of it, and stood watching as they entered. Wicklow positioned himself in the doorway, camera raised. Charlie and everyone else stood watching, holding their breath. Smoke still curled up from inside the charred walls, vining tendrils glowing electric in the late sunlight.

“If they get themselves hurt,” Charlie heard Garnet whisper, “I’ll kill them both.”

They emerged a few minutes later. Brody came out at a run. He went straight to the Quinns.

“He’s not in there, Marta. You’re sure you didn’t see him leave.”

“No.” She looked at her children.

“We couldn’t see the back of the barn,” J.P. said. “He could’ve gone down the stairs and out through the cattle yard, I suppose.”

“Why did he fire the shotgun?” Marta asked. “If he was just going to run away?”

“Obfuscation, maybe,” Graff said. “He may have wanted you to think he was still in there while he hightailed it. He’s gone off his rocker, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a plan.”

“He threatened to get back at the people in this county he had a grudge against,” Brody said. “Maybe he figured burning the barn took care of the Quinns.” He thought a moment, then looked at Graff. “He threatened Bluestone, too.”