Chapter 4

It was almost an hour later that I got the call. There was an accident at the job site and I should get there as soon as possible. I asked to talk to my wife and was told she was not available. That’s the damn truth!

I arrive about 30 minutes later. I am met by the volunteer fire chief. He introduces himself and starts to tell me what he thinks happened. I ask about my wife. He says for me to walk with him to the ambulance. She is not there. An attendant tells me to sit down. Then I am told she is dead. I try to cry but I can’t. The tears just won’t come. So I start to demand to know what happened. The chief, who I think works at the bank, tells me they believe it was a faulty gas heater. Since this was the first cool day and with all the rain lately THEY probably lit the heater to stay warm. Something happened and a spark of some sort set it off.

“The Sheriff and the County Corner are on the way. I notified them when I found the bodies.”

“You keep saying ‘they’ and ‘bodies’. Who was with her?”

“We know it is your wife and we believe the other person is the general contractor, Sam Billings. This is hard for me to tell you. But you should hear it now. We found them together in bed, naked. They were engaged in making love. He is on top and they are still ... Shit there is no easy way to say this! They are melted together. He is still fucking your wife. The corner is going to have his hands full trying to separate them.”

I put my face in my hands to keep him from seeing me laugh.

“That lying, cheating whore!” I scream at the top of my lungs. I can’t believe she would do this to me. This is our dream and she is cheating with the contractor. That bitch! That whore!”

About that time the Sheriff and a black hearse drive up. I stay seated in the ambulance but the fire chief runs over and starts talking. I hear him tell them that I was pretty upset until I found out what was going on in the trailer. Now I am just mad! They ask what he is talking about and he explains how they found the bodies. The sheriff is trying hard not to laugh. The coroner, who is an older man and a doctor at a small clinic in town, asks to see the bodies. The sheriff and a young deputy follow the fire chief and the coroner into the burnt out trailer. In seconds the deputy is back throwing up his lunch in the front yard. The coroner goes to the hearse and brings back two body bags. He passes me and shakes his head.

“I’ll do my best to separate them but it may be easier to take them back to my office. They are really stuck together. I’ll contact you sometime tomorrow about claiming her body.”

“You can throw that whore in the dump for all I care. Do not call me.”

He walked back into the trailer.

Just about that time another car drives up. Out jumps a woman in some type of fireman’s uniform. She walks over to me and asks who I am. I tell her I am the owner of this property and my wife and her lover were killed in the fire. I guess I said this with venom in my voice.

“So I take it you did not know about the lover?”

“Not even a hint.”

“I am the with state fire investigator’s office. These volunteer fire departments do not have the funds to train an investigator so I handle this part of the state. I’ll need to talk to you tomorrow after I finish my investigation so where can I find you?”

“I’ll be at my office until about 4pm. After that you can reach me on my cell phone.” I hand her my card.

“What about the funeral arrangements?”

“I will not be making any arrangements for that whore. Maybe her mom and dad will want her but not me. The coroner said they were melted together and he was going to try and separate them at his office. Well fuck that. They want to be together, bury them together.”

Then we watched as they carried one body bag to the hearse. The deputy had the other in his hand so I guess both were in the same bag. The ambulance, the hearse, the sheriff and all the volunteer firemen left. I watched as the woman fire investigator entered the trailer and began her investigation. “She is not going to find anything,” that was what I was thinking.

The next afternoon.

I parked my car in front of the house and looked around. One thing was certain. Nan and her lover had done a great job. It was almost finished and its beauty was back. Now what am I going to do with it?

I was walking around the downstairs when this cute little red headed girl walks in. I ask if I can help her.

“You don’t know me but I am one of the sub-contractors. My father and I own a paper and painting company. We are getting the walls ready to start papering the downstairs later this week. You are going to complete the job, right?”

“Of course he is going to finish this place. It is beautiful and it will be even prettier when it is all landscaped and the garage and stables are finished.”

I turned to see that woman fire investigator walking in the door. She walks directly over to the red head and kisses her on the mouth. Ok, lesbians. Lesbians I have no problem with that. Who cares what somebody does in their bedroom, not me.

“I thought I saw your truck pull up. I guess this is as good a time as any to have this talk. Let’s find a place to sit.”

We go into the kitchen and find a table where the workers eat lunch.

“First I need to spend some of your money.” She takes out her cell phone and looks for a number then calls.

“Buck, yeah, Sandy here. Listen can you get over to that old anti-bellum house off 78 early in the morning? Of course I want you to bring your back-hoe. There was a trailer fire yesterday and I am finished my investigation. I overheard the owner saying he wanted that off his property and I told him it would be too hard and costly to haul off. He decided to dig a big hole and just bury it. I told him I knew just the guy for the job. I want you to dig a big hole off to the right, remember the right, the septic system is on the left. Then push everything in the hole and cover it up like it was never there. Sure 7 am is fine. Just see Lori and she will handle getting you paid. Thanks. Remember the right side. Ok, bye”

Now she looks across the table directly into my eyes.

“I or we I should say, don’t want any sheriff or deputy snooping around and find what I found now do we?”

“I guess not,” was all I could manage.

“I see you have met my partner, she is an excellent painter and paper hanger. I am sure you will appreciate her work.”

With that the red head reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. What the hell is going on?

“Captain Tim Jones, eight years in the Marine Corps, EOD unit commander, hell you taught at the EOD School in Yuma, Arizona. Then you trained those Nigerians in Africa. I know you were even a “special consultant” to the CIA. Teaching classes on bomb making. And you gave it up for that slut. Bad mistake on your part, but good for us. Oh, before I forget, if I did not know what to look for I would not have found it. So good work.