Page 22 of Colton’s Inferno

Aiden’s alarm beeped and pulled him from a deep and dreamless sleep. Even before he opened his eyes, his head ached. His body was sore. And the palm of his hand stung. He peeled his eyes open and picked up his phone, silencing the alarm.

Like a current in a stream, the tug to go back to sleep was strong. Aiden had never been a morning person. Today, that didn’t matter. He’d told Lucy that he would be at her house early.

As far as he was concerned, 5:00 a.m. was the definition of early.

Swinging his feet to the floor, he sat on the edge of the bed. A wave of dizziness swirled around him. He sat without moving and waited for it to pass. He stood slowly, holding on to a bedside table for balance.

The pain in his head lessened.

Maybe Ryan had gotten it wrong last night. Maybe Aiden didn’t have a concussion at all. Without turning on any lights, he walked across his bedroom and across the hall. Once inside the bathroom, he flipped a switch. Light flooded the tiny space, reflecting off the white tiles. It felt as if an ice pick had been driven between his eyebrows.

“Dammit all,” he cursed, turning off the light.

Ryan wasn’t as wrong as he’d hoped.

Without the light, he splashed cold water on his face and brushed his teeth. There was a bottle of ibuprofen tucked into the medicine cabinet. He took two tablets and washed them down with a glass of tap water.

Aiden padded down the hallway and entered the kitchen. His apartment, located in downtown Red Grove, was made up of four rooms. The bedroom. The bathroom. The kitchen/dining room combo. The living room. Sure, the space was small, but the best bars and restaurants were within walking distance, and he loved the excitement of living in the middle of everything.

He turned on the light above the stove and found everything he needed to start a pot of coffee. While the coffee brewed, he went back to his bedroom and stripped out of his shorts and T-shirt. He redressed in a long-sleeved Red Grove Fire Department T-shirt and pair of jeans. He went back into the kitchen. The last few drops of coffee fell into the pot. Aiden filled a travel mug and took a sip straight from the cup. He screwed on the lid. Finally, he grabbed his phone from the charger and his keys from the kitchen table.

By 5:15 a.m. he was out the door.

His car, a sporty red sedan, was parked at the curb. As he stepped onto the sidewalk, he pressed the starter and unlocked the door. The lights flashed and the engine started. A cloud of exhaust rose from the tailpipe into the cool morning. Aiden pulled up on the handle and opened the door. He slid into the driver’s seat and took a second sip of coffee before wedging the cup into the holder. After closing the door, he fastened his seat belt and put the car into Drive.

His headlights cut through the darkness, and Aiden realized that his headache was gone. He didn’t know if it was the over-the-counter meds or the coffee or both. But he relaxed in his seat, happy to be pain free.

As he drove, the sky lightened, and the stars disappeared one by one. The eastern horizon had turned purple and pink at the edges. In the distance, mountains rose up like jagged teeth. A sign was attached to two tall poles. The words Five Steers Ranch had been burned into a slab of wood.

After turning on his blinker, he pulled onto the dirt lane. Woods lined the road on each side. A two-story blue house with a wide porch sat atop a rise.

He mentally mapped out the property. Entrance. Lane. Woods. House on a hill. Behind the house and to the left were the outbuildings, including the one that burned down. To the right of the house was the field used by the Bryant Bros. Carnivals.

He let his foot off the gas and rolled slowly past the house. All the windows were dark. Was Lucy still asleep? Or was she already up and at work?

The back pasture came into view. For the span of a heartbeat, he couldn’t make sense of what he saw. The tents and the rides and the games were gone. The grass had been flattened by last night’s crowds. It was the only evidence that the carnival had been there at all.

He followed a rocky and pitted lane. His car jostled with each bump in the road. Ahead were four wooden buildings and a heap of blackened debris. It was amazing that nothing else had caught fire and that nobody had been seriously hurt. Aiden let his foot off the gas, and the car rolled to a stop. He put the gearshift into Park and pushed a button, turning off the ignition. He opened the door and stepped out of the car. His evidence collection kit was stowed in a black messenger bag. He pulled it from the back seat and slipped the strap over one shoulder.

Tendrils of fog clung to the ground and the scent of burnt wood hung in the crisp air. Aiden walked slowly toward the charred remains. The barn door lay near the structure. A slurry of ash and water clung to the boards.

Kneeling next to the door, he examined the wood. The burn pattern and blistering were consistent with the fire. Rising to his feet, he walked into what would have been the barn itself. The floor was bare dirt, something he knew from last night. It was harder for a fire to burn soil than wood. What did that mean for the cause of the fire?

Turning in a slow circle, he took it all in.

The wall, near a back corner, had been burned all the way through. The boards that remained were white with ash.

Bingo.

That was where the fire had burned the hottest and the longest. He waded through the standing water, his footfalls squelching. A board lay on the ground. Next to it was a piece of metal. He unzipped the top of the messenger bag and looked inside. There were tweezers, a camera, pen and paper, collection bags, numbered paper tents. At the bottom of it all was a pair of latex gloves. Aiden pulled on the gloves and knelt next to the ring. It was the size of a nickel with a hole in the middle. He picked it up and placed it in his palm. Without question, he’d found a grommet.

There were four more scattered nearby. Had an old tarp been stored in this corner? Well, maybe the chief had been right. Maybe someone had taken a smoke break in the barn. It didn’t even have to be kids. A smoldering butt could have started the blaze.

He took a step back. There, on the ground, was a blackened scorch mark. Aiden removed two evidence bags from his kit. He dropped the grommet in one bag. Using a small trowel, also stored in his bag, he scooped up the soil. He brought the dirt to his nose and sniffed.

The stench of chemicals was unmistakable.

It could be the foam used by the firefighters. Or it could be an accelerant. The state’s crime lab was located in Bismarck. Aiden needed to get both the soil and the metal ring there to be tested. He scribbled on the front of both bags, making note of what he had found and where it was located. He also logged the date, September 3, along with the time, 5:49 a.m.