Oblation: A Spine-Tingling Crime Thriller set in Small-Town California, page 10
He wanted to stay and ponder this new discovery, but the heat inside the house was growing more intense by the second, and the rolling black smoke was making its way into the kitchen. Turning toward the back door, he made his way out of the house and into a spray of water that kept the flames at bay.
SEVENTEEN
Merri Boles watched the silhouettes of the firefighters through the windows of the burning house. As flames erupted through the left side of the roof, the thought that there were people inside made her even more nervous.
The day had been bad enough. She did not need anything else piled on top of it. Five children had gone missing, and she was the one who had initially reported the bus as missing. All day she had dealt with her students’ anxiety concerning the missing bus. When the news came that the bus had been located, the initial joy and hope faded quickly with the dispiriting news that five children were still missing. The students started asking the obvious questions: “How could this happen?” “What do we do if someone tries to take us?” “What would you do, Ms. Boles?”
She had no good answers to any of the questions. By 2:45, she was emotionally and physically exhausted. She just wanted to go home, hold her fiancé Aaron, and watch the sunset with a glass of wine. But Aaron had training this evening. He had joined the volunteer fire department six months before and had passed all the physical and academic requirements. At his induction as a volunteer fireman for Cedarville only the month before, he had been so excited, and then, when Chief Santos asked him to be inside the house, he was overwhelmed with a euphoria that lasted for days. She had promised him that she would be here, and despite the events of the day, she was not going to disappoint him.
They did have an hour of porch time, during which she finished off a bottle of California Red she had opened the night before. Aaron preferred beer. Any beer, as long as it wasn’t an IPA or didn’t have a fruit taste. But tonight, sitting on the front porch of their rented house, he stuck with water. He did not want anything impairing him in any way since he was about to spend the evening inside a burning house. Merri was happy he had not had anything to drink. The idea of him being in the house was bad enough. She did not want to think about him in the house after drinking even one beer.
Now outside the house, sitting on lawn chairs with a bottle of wine along with her best friend, Rhonda, she watched the silhouette of her fiancé through the living room window. What could be more natural than this? She thought sarcastically.
“Whoa! Did you see that?” Rhonda exclaimed, pointing at the house.
“What?”
“A flame just shot out from the crawlspace vent just to the left of the living room.”
She looked at the window, but the smoke was too thick. “Do you think they’re okay?”
“Relax, Merri,” her friend responded with a slight giggle and a pat on her leg. “Chief Santos knows what he’s doing. He won’t let anything happen to his guys… and gals.”
Easy for you to say, Merri thought, your husband isn’t inside the house. He’s out here on one of the fire hoses. Rhonda and her husband, Josh, had lived in the apartment below Merri when she moved into Alturas two years before, and she and Rhonda had quickly bonded over their love of California wines and the San Francisco Giants. It was Josh and Rhonda who had introduced her to Aaron shortly after the start of her first year of teaching. Aaron and Josh worked together at the local steel foundry. It was also Rhonda and Josh who had convinced them to move to Cedarville from Alturas. “Small town, Quiet life,” they said.
They were right on both counts. Though Merri sometimes thought it was a little too quiet and too small. Aaron loved the small-town life, though. He said he liked the privacy. And because she loved Aaron, she was willing to live just about anywhere.
When the people around her started standing and clapping, Merri looked up and saw that the flames had consumed the roof above the left side of the house, and it looked to her that the entire roof was about to collapse. “Oh my God,” she gasped. “Where’s Aaron?”
Pointing to a group of people to the right of the house, Rhonda said, “Merri, it’s okay. They’re all out of the house. They’re right there.”
Merri took a deep breath and felt the heat from the fire enter her lungs, causing her to cough.
“You okay?” Rhonda asked.
“Yeah. I think I just took in a little smoke.”
“That’s why they wear those big old masks.” Placing her hand on the small of Merri’s back, she gave her a little shove. “Come on. Let’s go see the boys.”
When Josh saw the two women crossing the street, he handed the firehose he was manhandling over to his second and waved toward them. “That was amazing,” he said excitedly. “You see that roof collapse?”
“Yeah, it was pretty awesome,” Rhonda said as she kissed him on his cheek. “But Merri’s going to need a few more fires before she will agree with you. She jumped at every little thing.”
Josh glanced over at Merri, who was looking past him at a group huddled around Chief Santos. “Merri,” he said, “it’s perfectly normal to be nervous. Rhonda won’t admit it now, but she was a basket case every time I had to leave on a call. Like I said, she won’t admit it, but I could tell because we had some of our best sex after each call those first couple of months.”
Rhonda hit him on the shoulder, causing him to flinch. “Now she barely even notices that I’m gone and doesn’t even wake up when I get home.”
Merri Boles laughed, which felt good. “Then I guess it’s a good thing they canceled school tomorrow because it sounds like I’m in for a long night.” She winked at Rhonda and left the couple behind as she walked toward Aaron and Chief Santos as they stepped away from the group. She hugged him and held him a little longer than was normal. She did not want to let go and knew that Josh’s joke about lovemaking held a ring of truth. The house continued to burn and put off heat, though it did not look like a house anymore but simply a pile of burning timbers. “I can’t believe you were inside there!”
Aaron kissed her on the lips. “Merri, I have never experienced anything like that.” He looked back toward the house. “It was almost a religious experience.”
Ignoring the statement, Merri turned to Santos. “No offense to you, Chief Santos, but if you ever take my fiancé into a burning house again, I’ll kill you.”
Santos laughed. “No problem, Merri.” Then, patting Aaron on the shoulder, he continued, “You did a good job in there, Aaron. You handled yourself well.”
“Thanks, Chief,” Aaron smiled as Robert Santos left to join his own family.
“What does he mean, ‘You handled yourself well’?”
“Not sure. Maybe it’s just that I didn’t freak out.” He took her arm and led her to where Josh and Rhonda were busy talking to members of Josh’s hose team. “I have to tell you, Merri, that was something. I don’t know how to describe it. I’ve heard people talk before about fire being alive. I could feel that tonight. It moves, breathes, and almost has its own will.”
“Its own will?”
“Yeah. I mean,” he continued thoughtfully, “we were in the living room, and suddenly we realized the fire was under our feet, advancing through the crawlspace. It was like the fire was trying to outsmart us. We were expecting it to come through the attic, but it snuck up on us from below. If that is not something that has its own will, I don’t know what it is. It was reaching for us.”
“That’s spooky.”
He continued his reflection, ignoring her comment. “I just can’t let myself get caught by it. If I think it has a will of its own, I have to respect it and out-think it.” Gazing back at the burning house, Aaron finished, “Yeah, somehow it’s alive.”
The sounds of sirens traveling through the town a block away interrupted his thoughts. Two unmarked vehicles, followed by the sheriff’s Tahoe, could be seen racing down the highway between the houses. Merri was yanked back to her horrible day. Everyone turned and watched the vehicles’ lights as they faded up the hill outside of town, heading toward the Nevada border. No one wondered or asked what might be going on. The jovial party atmosphere suddenly turned somber and silent. Quiet prayers rose to the heavens from almost everyone gathered around the burnt-out house. Aaron’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar and unexpected voice. “What’s going on, little brother?”
Aaron turned to see his brother, Chip, standing there in the flickering light of the burning house. “Chip. What the hell are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d come visit my little brother. My ship docked at San Francisco a few days ago, and I was finally able to get away.”
“Oh, my God. Merri, this is my brother, Chip.”
Merri looked at the handsome young man standing in front of her. He was fit, and his red T-shirt clung to his biceps and his chest like they were painted on. His square jaw matched the lines of the rest of his face, and she could feel herself breathing deeply. The effect was surprising and uncomfortable, but she managed a stammer as she stretched out her hand. “Glad to meet you, Chip.”
“Is this the girl you’ve written me about?” Chip asked Aaron.
“Yep, this is her.”
Chip gave her a hug that squeezed out whatever air was left in her lungs. “Then a handshake is not going to do.” When he released her, she took in a deep breath and reached her hand out to Aaron for support.
“You certainly are strong,” she managed.
“Chip was the best thing to come out of our town,” Aaron said. “Star football player, the smartest kid in the class, and by far the strongest.” He slapped his brother across the back. “Come on, Chip. Let’s get a beer. I’ve got some friends I want you to meet.”
“Lead the way, little brother.”
Merri watched as the two brothers walked across the street, arm in arm, toward a circle of firefighters. This is going to be a long night. Good thing school was canceled.
EIGHTEEN
When Tarpley arrived home, tired and frustrated, it was almost 3:00 am. The stolen van provided no useful information. Other than the foil juice packet, no recovered evidence indicated that the children had even been in the van, and because they had enough things on their plate, Nevada quickly handed jurisdiction over to the CBI. The interior of the van was examined, and the exterior was checked for fingerprints before being wrapped, loaded onto a flatbed, and transported to a lab in Sacramento. Some hope existed that hairs or fibers might be found and provide further proof that the children had been in the van, or possibly even who the driver might be, but given how clean and sanitized the van appeared, this was a long shot.
Tarpley opened the door to her small home and heard Samantha making her way through the dark living room. From halfway across the room, Samantha leaped, and Tarpley caught her, cradling the dog against her chest while being rewarded with dog kisses. “Hey, sweetheart. I’m glad to see you too,” she muttered heavily.
Putting Sam down, she made her way into the kitchen with the dog close on her heels. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed a Budweiser from the top shelf, popped the tab, and took a sip. The cold liquid refreshed her, and she took another drink that left the can half empty.
The pushed-back chair at the Formica kitchen table stood exactly where she had left it, and the half-eaten bowl of cereal sat as a witness to her morning’s hasty retreat. She plopped into the chair and examined the disintegrating Cheerios in the curdling milk. She looked at it, knowing that she should wash the remains down the sink but feeling too tired to even do that.
Sam jumped onto her lap and settled in as the sheriff absent-mindedly scratched at her left ear. She took another drink of the beer, enjoying the simple pleasure of the feel of the cold liquid in her throat and the warm dog on her lap. “Did you get fed?” she asked the dog. “Did Atta come by and feed and walk you this afternoon?”
The sheriff knew the answer to her own questions. Had Atta not come by, there would have been a nice, soft, smelly present left by Sam just inside the front door as a reminder that she had been forgotten.
Sheriff Tarpley felt guilty that her job kept her from spending much time with the dog. She had played with the idea of taking Sam with her like a “Take your daughter to work day,” but that was not feasible. Too many people were afraid of dogs, and given Sam’s history of abuse, Tarpley was not willing to crate her in the back of her vehicle.
“It’s been a bad day, girl.” Thinking of nine-year-old Atta next door, she saw the faces of the five missing children. “Yeah, a really bad day.” She bent over and kissed the dog on top of the head. “The van offered no clues as to where they might be, and the interviews of the children in the hospital had not helped either.”
Lifting Samantha and looking directly into the dog’s eyes, she gave her one more hug as the dog wiggled in close to her body. Releasing her, she signaled Samantha to the floor, finished the last of the beer, and set it next to the warm bowl of cereal. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better.”
NINETEEN
Alturas Herald, November 2nd
“A Tragic Day”
“A tragic day for the city of Alturas and Modoc County.” These were the words of Governor Charles Ivey as the news began to spread that the search for the missing children had come to an unexpected and tragic end with the discovery of five bodies in the crawlspace of a burnt house in Cedarville.
Because of pending identification and DNA analysis, the bodies at this time have not been officially identified as the five missing children from Hamilton Combined School, but the bodies are assumed to be those of Alex Guerro, Le Nguyen, Jasmine Kalmins, Jordan Hendricks, and Ubay Emami.
Halloween saw the death of not only these five children but also long-time bus driver Eric Crenshaw. Because Mr. Crenshaw was supposed to be driving the bus that picked up the five children, all six murders are believed to be connected, according to local law enforcement and Kip Raimer of the California Bureau of Investigations.
At this time, no suspects or persons of interest have been identified publicly. Based upon the investigation of this reporter, there do not appear to be any leads at this time.
An interdenominational service is planned at All Saints Catholic Church this evening at 7:00 for all six victims, and the public is welcome to attend. A timeline of the disappearance and the investigation can be found on page 8A, along with a biography of each of the victims.
This newspaper offers its condolences to the families caught up in this tragedy. This will not be an easy couple of weeks for Modoc County, but we pledge to our readers that we will stay on top of this story and continue to pass along any information we receive concerning the investigation of the murders.
TWENTY
After four years, I’ve gotten nowhere. Five children and one adult dead. No suspects, no leads, very little evidence, nothing that even points toward anyone. After the murders, complete silence. No other similar cases—nothing. The FBI and CBI both moved on to other more pressing matters and the killings dubbed by the press “The Modoc County Murders” officially became a cold case. As the sheriff of Modoc County, I couldn’t let it go.
Mentally, I’ve gone through the crime and the crime scenes over and over again. The children, each wrapped in their own blanket with only their faces exposed. According to the coroner’s report, each child’s lungs showed evidence of smoke and fire damage. Meaning they were all alive when they burned to death. That in and of itself brought pain and anguish to those of us investigating the case. The saving grace was that the smoke and fire damage did not extend deep into the lungs. Meaning the children were most likely sleeping when they died. But these were not quiet deaths. Their bound wrists and legs showed evidence of bruising consistent with stress. The coroner figured that the bodies convulsed as each child unconsciously struggled to breathe as the smoke and the heat seeped into their lungs.
The coroner also identified melted plastic around each victim’s eyes. Speculation regarding this mysterious plastic simply led to further confusion. Micro-processing of the plastic revealed that it was the melted remains of a straw. Just a common straw like you would get at any drive-through restaurant. But the amount of plastic was far less than what is found in a straw. The eyelids showed bruising, and the burn patterns around the eyes were indicative of them being open when the bodies were burnt. But if the children were sleeping, their eyes would have been closed. An intern in the coroner’s office suggested that perhaps the straws were being used to keep the eyes open. Why would the killer want the eyes to be open?
The school lost a third of its teachers that year. Some moved away, others moved to other schools. Principal Oakes retired and moved out of town. Said he was going to the middle of the country to try to forget what had happened to his children. The faculty and staff could not walk into the school every day without remembering the dead children. Counseling was offered to the children, but who knows what the memory of the murders will do to those kids? The older children are in high school, and teachers talk about discipline and academic problems. But are these caused by the trauma? Who knows? The younger children seem to be coping better. Maybe they are more pliable, but again, who knows? We will just have to wait and see.
Chief Santos is one of the saddest pieces of collateral damage in this whole affair. Guilt drove him out of the fire department. He’s convinced that the children were under that piece of plywood flooring when he did his final walk-through of the house. He knew the board was out of place and blamed himself for not investigating why the board was there. “Those kids would still be alive if I had done my job.”
