chapter ninety-six

There were no lights visible from the front of the house, but we walked up the driveway and rang the doorbell anyway. Nothing happened, so I rang it again and waited. After a few minutes, the door opened a crack. The bald man looked like a frightened mouse with one eye.

“Hi, Mr. Sanders. It’s Billy Ellis. I talked to you this morning, and this is Cameron Blair.” I didn’t know if I should introduce him as my friend or as a detective, so I did neither.

“What do you want now?” Mr. Sanders and his eye weren't opening the door any further than they had to.

Cameron leaned forward and jumped into the conversation. “I heard you called in the fire on Mr. Hickory’s property today. You might not have been aware that I purchased that land this morning, so the secondary fire was on my property.” Technically, my name was on the deed, but I let it go. “Would you mind if I asked you a few questions about what you saw?”

That was a sticky point. If Sanders was trying to maintain distance from the destruction of the documents, he would refuse to talk about it, but if his conscience was starting to plague him
as Cameron suspected, he just might welcome a chance to get it off his chest.

“I know it’s late, so we won’t stay long,” I added. That seemed to settle the debate in the man's mind, because he opened the door and let us in. He showed us into a formal sitting room where two white sofas stood at an angle to each other. I sat down on the edge of one of them, not wanting to disturb the perfect symmetry in the room. The firm seat didn't give an inch. It was one of those couches that screamed, "Please don't stay!" I was feeling more awkward by the moment and felt relieved when Cameron took up the conversation where he had left off at the front door.

“So how did you come upon the fire this morning?”

“I was driving by,” Sanders said, standing between the two sofas and eyeing me.

“About what time?”

“9:30.”

“Where were you going?” Surely he could tell Cameron was a detective by now.

The man was staring at me and did not seem to hear the question.

Cameron tried another approach. “Did you call in the first fire as well?”

Mr. Sanders took a step towards me. “What were you trying to do to me this morning?” he asked, his voice tight.

I could only be honest with him. “Well, you said I should ask the big guy about you, so I did, and I thought he told me to touch your eyes.” I was sure he wouldn't believe me.

“That explains some things,” he mumbled to himself as he rubbed his eyes. “I thought you hit me with a taser or something - I got such a shock that it knocked me over.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I apologized.

“No, it didn't hurt, I'm fine, but when I opened my eyes, I did see some very strange things." He seemed reluctant to go on, so I nodded encouragingly. "Well, there were two black faces floating in the air, one above Applewood, one above Tait." He shook his head, seemingly unable to believe what he was recounting. "They were the most evil things I have ever seen and it scared me half to death. I panicked and yelled at them to leave. They did, taking Charlie and Henry with them. Those guys probably thought I was going crazy, and they might be right." He paused and looked at me for a moment, his lips quivering. "When I went into the bathroom, I saw another twisted face in the mirror, above my own head." His breath was coming rapidly now. "I was hoping someone could tell me what to do.” He rubbed both hands over his face, clearly distressed, and sagged onto an immovable sofa.

“I'll try. What do you want?” I asked.

The words came out in a rush. “I want to get rid of this evil thing. I don’t want anything to do with Applewood and Tait anymore, and I want my wife back.” He was desperate and yet less afraid once the words hit the air.

“I guess you could start by confessing what you've done that might have brought this evil thing into your life,” I said.

“Before you say anything, I should let you know that I’m with the police,” Cameron interrupted.

Sanders glanced at Blair, hesitated for a moment, and then began to spill everything. He had never wanted anyone to get hurt. His ideas were all about clever paperwork: careful placement and manipulation of names, figures, and contracts that would benefit Allstar but never be traced back to them. He had gone along with issuing threats because he believed they would never be carried out. Then Tait had taken it a step further, insisting that a few well-placed incidents would insure the secrecy of key people. Despite Sander's misgivings, the other two men had gone ahead with their preventative measures. Sanders did what he could to make sure that the damage was minimal while protecting his involvement with Allstar, but he was growing tired of an arrangement that was becoming increasingly uncomfortable for him. As an act of defiance to his two partners, he had impetuously called in the second fire on the Hickory house and identified himself, hoping it would lead to an investigation. However, the fire chief was deep in the corporation’s pockets and everything was conveniently swept under the carpet.

Mr. Sanders sighed. “I don’t want to stay in this partnership anymore, but I can’t get out. I know they wouldn’t think twice about hurting me, or more importantly, Viola." He turned his pleading eyes to Cameron and then back to me again. "I do love her, despite how I’ve treated her. Sometimes when you find yourself in a bad situation, it's just easier to take it out on the person closest to you than to face it. It's not an excuse, I know.” He sighed again and looked at his feet.

“Do your partners know about your desire to get out?” Cameron probed.

“I don’t think so. Though after I chased them out this morning, who knows what they are thinking.” Sanders shrugged and fell silent.

After a moment of consideration, Cameron offered, “If you are willing to testify against them, I can put you in protective custody.”

Mr. Sanders shook his head uncertainly. “That’s pretty drastic.”

“You can’t go halfway on this.” Cameron was firm. “You try and bow out quietly and I guarantee the destruction will find its way to your family.”

“It already has,” Richard Sanders said with resignation and slumped forward. I looked helplessly at Cameron, who met my gaze and held it, as if asking me to trust him. We waited.

Suddenly, the bald man was on his feet. “Let’s go. There’s nothing left for me here.”

We drove Mr. Sanders down to the police station where Cameron made the necessary arrangements for his stay and did some other detective business that couldn't seem to wait till Monday morning. It was after one in the morning by the time he dropped me off at my apartment, and I was so relieved that the exhausting roller-coaster of a day was finally over that I went to bed without ever realising that the case against Allstar had just been cracked wide open.