Reverse Metamorphosis book one of the Irrevocable Change trilogy (38 page)

“I understand.” Clay changed the subject,
“When was the fire?”

“About ten months ago.”

“Got any idea what happened.”

“Don’t rightly know.”

“Did their dogs survive, and did somebody
local take them in?”

“Never saw any dogs the night of the fire,
and haven’t noticed any since then.”

Clay had been looking at the burned out ruins
as he and Sam spoke. The log cabin had been completely consumed. A
few of the log end pieces had fallen and rolled away from the fire,
but the entire structure and everything in it had been totally
destroyed; likewise with the garage. Looking closer Clay noticed
the remains of the Jeep and the pickup truck were there along with
a small motorcycle and the tractor Joe had used to mow the
clearing. The training building though was a different matter. As
would be expected, the metal building had survived the fire far
better than the wood structures. The steel beams supporting the
walls and roof were warped and twisted and the metal siding and
roofing were gone for the most part. “Seems strange doesn’t it how
a fire could start in one of the buildings and spread to the others
without catching the woods on fire even in October? I’d think it
would take some strong wind to spread the fire to the other
buildings wouldn’t it?

“Yes, it does seem strange. The night of the
fire some teenagers were messing around up on one of the Forest
Service observation towers and spotted the fire and smoke. Went to
the nearest house they could find and called it in at about two in
the morning. I’m on the volunteer fire crew and got here first,
since I lived just up the road. Then, as a deputy I was assigned to
work communications with the Forest Service emergency crews. When
the fires were about out I noticed three strangers roaming around.
Don’t know where they came from, or how they learned about the
fire. Tough looking guys they were; short hair, muscular, looked
like military to me. Later when I got free I looked for them, but
they was gone by then. At first light the next morning two suits
showed up; both of them from Washington. Never could figure out how
they heard about it and got here so fast, or why they were even
interested.”

Upon hearing the last information Clay’s
instincts told him to tread lightly from here on; but he had a
dozen questions he had to have answers to. “Where do you think the
fire started and what caused it?”

“Well, there’s another strange thing. Those
guys from Washington issued a report instead of the state Fire
Marshall. They said gas leaked in the cabin from the line to the
kitchen stove and caused the fire to start there. Then they said
wind carried embers and ignited both the garage and the metal
building. But, like I said, I was the first one here. There weren’t
no wind blowing; barely had any breeze at all, and when I pulled
in, all three buildings were already burning. And they were burning
from the inside out. They didn’t start at one end or on the roof
like they would if embers had blown over there.”

Clay tried to act nonchalant when he asked,
“Would you mind if I look around a bit?”

“Yeah, I sure would mind.” Sam replied as he
pulled the pistol from his belt. “In fact the F.B.I. guy from
Washington said somebody just might come nosing around and we was
to hold Mr. somebody until he could get back here. Now Mr. Joseph
Stassi, how about if you just march over to my sheriff’s car and
we’ll put you in the back seat, after I cuff you.”

“Wait a minute; I was just curious about what
happened to the nice couple who lived here. I didn’t even know
their names.”

“I’m not so sure I believe you. You looked
awful interested when I was talking about the fires. And why would
you want to look at those burned out buildings if you aren’t
involved in this someway? You’re going into town with me; you can
try to convince the government fella about what you know or don’t
know when he gets here. Now walk.”

Clay walked toward the car with Sam about
three feet behind him. When he was near the car Sam said, “Stop
right there and don’t pull any funny business. I will shoot you if
I have to.” Sam moved around the car to the driver’s door, opened
it and reached inside to retrieve a pair of handcuffs. Approaching
Clay he said, “Turn around and put your arms behind you while I
cuff you.”

Clay ignored the directions and kept pleading
with Sam, saying he didn’t know anything. While Sam had been on the
other side of the car he had positioned his right foot slightly
forward in preparation of Sam’s return. When Sam got within three
feet he again told Clay to turnaround, this time more forcefully.
Clay looked past Sam’s shoulder, put a surprised expression on his
face, and yelled, “Oh Shit,” while rolling forward on the ball of
his right foot. Sam was caught off guard and hesitated just long
enough for Clay to grab the gun in the deputy’s right hand and
deflect it just before it went off with a deafening blast. The men
wrestled each other for possession of the gun as Sam was shoved
over against the car.

The old man was stronger than Clay would have
given him credit for and fought back with a vitality belying his
age and appearance. Using the car body for leverage Sam pushed back
and Clay felt himself giving way. Then Clay lost his footing in the
loose gravel and fell down and backward, still clinging to Sam’s
gun hand and left shoulder. Sam landed on top of Clay and was
cussing him while trying to regain control. Sam had some advantage
by having landed on top, but Clay knew he had leverage from the
solid ground while his opponent had to depend solely on weight and
strength. Releasing his grip on Sam’s shoulder he moved his right
hand to slash at the deputy’s eyes with his fingers then grabbed
the man’s throat and squeezed hard. Sam was blinking rapidly while
trying to focus and grabbed Clay’s hand, trying to break his grip,
but in doing so lost any advantage of being on top. With all his
strength Clay pushed his left arm up to maneuver the gun to the
side of Sam’s head. Sam realized what was happening and had a
fearful expression as Clay squeezed the deputy’s trigger finger.
The discharge of the .45 cal. revolver inches from his own head was
thunderous and the bullet’s impact caused Sam’s head to be thrown
to his left before his body jumped and jerked as if high voltage
had him in its grip. Finally the body relaxed and the mutilated
head dropped onto Clay’s shoulder.

Clay quickly pushed the dead man away, rolled
to the left and stood up shouting, “God damn it, damn it, damn
it!!! Why in the hell didn’t you just leave me alone old man? I
didn’t want to kill you!” It was apparent the man was dead because
most of the left side of his head was gone. Clay leaned down,
picked up the revolver and then ran to the trailer and entered to
see if anyone else was inside the three small cluttered rooms. The
rooms were empty and Clay went back outside and dragged the
deputy’s body into the bedroom. In a mirror in the bathroom he
learned he had blood on his right shoulder where Sam’s head had
dropped and even more blood where it had splattered all the way
down his right arm when the bullet exited. He had other clothes in
the Jeep, so he removed the shirt and threw it in the bedroom on
top of the deputy. Pulling a wallet from the man’s jeans pocket he
removed one hundred and fifty four dollars. After locating and
removing keys from Sam’s pants pocket he washed up in the
bathroom.

Walking around outside the trailer he
discovered a new twelve foot by twelve foot metal shed behind the
trailer. Beside the shed was a diesel tractor with a belly mower.
Inside was a push lawn mower, a roto tiller, a chain saw, and three
five gallon fuel cans; one half full of gasoline and two full of
diesel fuel. After moving the deputy’s car behind the trailer he
moved his Jeep there also, hoping passersby’s would not see either
of them.

He still needed to satisfy his curiosity
about what had happened to Joe and Joan. Apparently Sam didn’t know
the cabin was heated with wood, and no one seemed to know all
cooking was done in the metal building. There was no gas piped into
the house. Who ever set the fire assumed every one would believe
there was gas in the kitchen for cooking. Wrong. The intensity of
the fire in the cabin had destroyed everything. Nothing he could
identify remained. The garage was the same. Only the larger pieces
of equipment and some steel hand tools could be recognized.

The training building was another matter. He
remembered where the partition walls were placed and as expected
saw piles of ash where they had burned and either crumbled or fell
over. But in the storage room the ash was four inches deep wall to
wall and all around the equipment storage lockers. With the amount
of ash present additional wood must have been piled around the
lockers to ensure everything was destroyed. He could make out
several gun barrels from the Remington 700 rifles stored in the
lockers. Over in the corner of the room, he found something else he
recognized; the remains of a chainsaw and melted fuel cans sitting
on the floor. After loading the building with firewood the saw had
been left there instead of being returned to the garage. Joe would
never have left it there; it was kept in the garage with the other
tools. At the end of the building nearest to the cabin he found the
remains of two one hundred pound propane bottles. Both had popped
their safety valves and one had exploded during the fire. Looking
over toward the cabin it was just as he remembered; no gas bottles.
Now he knew why the “Guys out of Washington” had gotten there so
fast. They had silenced Joe and then set the fires. The first three
tough looking guys Sam mentioned were probably C.I.A. Clay knew why
they were there. But why had the FBI gotten involved. What was
their role in this? By then he was mad and decided to let them know
someone had figured out what they had done.

He got Sam’s chainsaw and a pair of gloves,
then walked to the woods and started cutting dead trees. When he
felt he had enough he began putting the logs and branches inside
the trailer, under the trailer, into the shed and then crammed as
much as he could into the sheriffs car. Sam’s body was placed on
top of the logs and branches in his bedroom and the chain saw
placed next to his body. On his last trip out of the trailer he
removed a six pack of beer and meat and bread from Sam’s
refrigerator and put them in the Jeep.

He took the five gallon can of gasoline and
set it in the bedroom. After dousing the inside of the trailer,
shed and car with the ten gallons of diesel he moved the Jeep over
to the lane and put on a clean shirt and pants. He had remembered
this place as a tranquil spot in the forest and of times spent with
good friends; now those memories were displaced with one of
bloodshed and death. While taking one last look at the place he lit
a torch and tossed it inside the trailer. The flames slowly spread
through the limbs loaded into the kitchen and outward toward the
rooms located at each end.

At the blacktop road Clay opened a beer,
turned right, and drove away without looking back. He had paid cash
for his room the night before, and since he had checked in late at
the small dump, had not even been asked to sign in. The next
morning he had gotten up early and left without speaking to anyone.
Junk food bought the day before had sufficed for his breakfast and
lunch. Hopefully, by the time Washington was notified people would
not recall him clearly. The time was almost seven o’clock; he had
spent an hour sifting through the debris and over three hours
preparing Sam’s funeral pyre.

Apparently there had been some change in the
way Joe’s past employer viewed his status and people had been
dispatched to silence him. Clay wondered if he were somehow the
catalyst for what had befallen his mentor. If so, they could also
be searching for him. Surely they weren’t aware of his identity or
he might already be dead. They may have just reached the point
where they were concerned about Joe maintaining his silence. He had
been having a severe problem living with his past. Maybe the agency
just decided having him around was simply too big a risk with no
benefit in his being alive. Clay couldn’t think of any loose ends
which could lead anyone to him from the month he spent training
with Joe. And he was certain he had not left evidence linking him
to the visit he had just paid to the home site. He questioned his
handling of destroying Sam’s trailer in the way he did it. By
loading everything with logs and leaving the chain saw near Sam’s
body he was showing them someone knew what they had done. But, damn
it the bastards needed to be confronted.

Before returning the Jeep to the car lot in
Knoxville he stopped at a car wash and thoroughly cleaned it inside
and out. Even the engine got washed. Every surface he could have
touched got rubbed down. Then he put on gloves and delivered the
Jeep back to the car lot at six a.m., leaving the keys in the
ignition. The owner would be opening by eight or nine and would
find the keys then. Clay tried to bury the episode in the far
recesses of his mind but couldn’t and relived the incident over and
over during the drive home.

T
he following
October, Clay had taken the truck on a run through Michigan, Ohio
and Indiana on a pre-holiday season buying trip. During the two
weeks he was away he continued his practice of not calling while on
the road. He didn’t want to set a precedent of reporting in during
his trips away, regardless of what business he was conducting. No
one needed to know where he was and he didn’t want phone company
records to place him in a specific area at a specific time.

While in Cambridge Ohio he had done very well
at several shops buying glassware and was ready to leave Friday
morning. Instead of heading west, he decided to drive east to
Pittsburg Pennsylvania and rent a car. From there it would only be
a four hour drive to Falls Church Virginia, where Adrianna lived.
He called her from a pay phone and arranged to stay with her over
the weekend. Clay was pleased at the direction their long range
relationship had begun to take, and used any excuse to visit her.
He had made it a point to see her almost monthly.