Rebuilding Faith Ch. 10

Once out of Bill's sight, Faith slipped on her flannel shirt and strolled cheerfully down the tree-lined path, swinging her brazier in lazy circles.

'I don't think Bunyan will be sleeping alone in his cabin tonight,' she decided, smiling at the high probability of pleasure.

Sunlight, shining through the bare hardwoods, cast spidery stripes across the trail. The earth smelled alive. Buds had popped open on the undergrowth, drinking in the rays before the treetop canopy blocked them out for the summer. Bending to look closely at the sliver of green peeking out between the brown shrouds, Faith thought how quickly the world changed. Two days ago, she was surrounded by cold and snow, and today was all sunshine and springtime, a pattern that seemed to be reflected in her own life, a change from cold and dark to warm and bright.

"Holder has made all the difference."

Was his timely arrival simply coincidence or a miracle?

"A miracle," she said aloud, with a tone of undeniable conviction. Walking on, she wondered what her kids would think of him and what he would think of them.

'I hope his daughter likes me.' The thought extended into, 'This must be really serious if I'm worried about relatives.' Faith smiled at the recognition of wanting more, of wanting Bill.

Getting back on the reality track, her mind downshifted into, 'How will I get the bunkhouse finished?'

As she began to prioritize practical needs, Faith approached the new bunkhouse from the back. Hershey ran around in front and started barking and snarling, followed by a wounded yelp.

Running anxiously in the dog's direction, Faith yelled, "Here Hershey, here Hershey... Please don't be skunked."

***

Rolling the wheelbarrow back to the segmented tree, Bill couldn't help but grin, thinking, 'I may be a fun ride, but Faith is the whole amusement park.'

Expending some of his newfound vigor, Bill tossed the abundance of cut wood into a pile, clearing the work area. As he worked, he tried to come up with some new ideas on how to tease Faith, and how much fun it would be if she tried to one-up him.

'I may be onto something; we'll have a who's-the-biggest-tease contest. There's no way I can win but, considering the outcome, losing is better.'

Bill frowned with the realization he'd surrendered to his sexual urges again. 'Damn, I'm a pig. Where is all this going? Focus, Holder, get a grip.'

Looking over what was left of the tree, Bill decided to cut up all of the smaller branches and leave the main trunk for another day. The telephone wires were already free from the debris. He could leave at anytime to pursue other interests. The thought of how sweet his other interest tasted made him shake his head in an effort to erase the memory of Faith's eyes inviting him in, as her legs opened wide.

With one pull, the chainsaw screamed to life and, concentrating on his mission, the logs fell in nearly equal lengths in rapid succession, until the engine coughed and died from thirst. Carrying the saw back to the truck for refueling, the buzzing in his ears was gradually replaced by a mournful howl. Looking in the direction of the sound, a billowing cloud of smoke rising above the trees made the blood drain from his face.

"God, no!"

Heart beating wildly, Bill threw the saw in the truck and scrambled into the cab. Turning on the ignition caused a tired cranking noise.

"Start, damn it!" The engine sputtered to life and he stomped the gas pedal down, ripping up the sod as he backed onto the road.

Shifting into drive, he accelerated toward the growing plume. The wheels spun and gravel flew.

"This is my fucking nightmare!" Bill screamed, pounding on the steering wheel.

Flames were already licking out from the new bunkhouse windows when Bill jumped from the truck.

"Faith! Faith!"

No answer.

Attempting to see inside, Bill circled the building. Fire blocked both entrances. A flood of helpless dread overwhelmed him. He knelt down and prayed, "God help me," to regain some rational thought.

The dog began howling again and Bill jumped at the sound. Racing to the far end of the building, he found Hershey sitting with her head back in a mournful wail.

"Where is she girl? Where's Faith?"

She ignored him and continued her cry.

There were no windows on the first floor at this end. If someone were inside, they'd be trapped. Pounding on the structure, Bill screamed, "Faith! Faith! Are you in there!" and pressed his ear to the wall.

Time to act was burning away quickly and there was nothing left to do but try.

Racing to the truck, Bill quickly refueled the chainsaw and ran back. Ripping off the vapor barrier to expose the nail heads, he started the saw and began working the tip through the plywood, four feet above the sill. When the wood was cut all the way through, the smoke poured out, drawing the fire to a new source of air. Bill knew he'd just shortened his rescue time, and let the chainsaw chew rapidly down. Just before meeting the floor the saw jammed and stalled. Something wet made him glance at his arm. Blood and clots of flesh were splattered over his forearm and shirt. His stomach retched. Unable to control his horror, He vomited.

The heat blowing out through the slot in the wall put him in motion once again. Moving over to the next stud space, he cut a hole two feet above the floor and reached in to feel for anything in the way. Nothing there, he opened the hole big enough to crawl into.

"Faith!" he yelled, and reaching to the left, grabbed and pulled on an arm.

Dragging the body outside into the light, the dead stare from Butch's eyes made his stomach churn again. The deep fracture above his right ear meant Butch never felt the new cut on his leg.

Letting the lifeless body fall to the ground, Bill crawled inside. The smoke was blinding and the heat tremendous, as he felt around for anyone else.

"Faith!" He yelled and choked at the same time.

There was a small groan and a cough to the right and his hand landed on a boot. Swiftly, he knelt and cradled a familiar weight in his arms. Bill turned and stumbled to the dim opening, laid her down, jumped out and then pulled her through.

"Faith, can you hear me? You're going to be all right." Tears streamed down his face, as he carried her further from the fire and smoke.

Faith's eyelids fluttered and she began to cough violently. Blood was caked on her forehead and her sooty face looked battered. Her hands were tied behind her back and her ankles must have been tied together, but he couldn't see because her pants were down. The flannel shirt hung open, the fabric torn. Faith was completely exposed.

"What did he do to you?" Laying her in the grass, Bill went to the truck and grabbed wire cutters from the toolbox.

Faith, began to cough and struggle.

"It's all right, Faith, you're safe now," he said, rolling her onto her side, and cutting the nylon wire ties that bound her wrists and ankles.

Coughing and groaning, she blindly moved to pull up her pants.

Trying to help, Bill touched her leg and she struck out wildly.

"It's okay, Honey. No one's going to hurt you," he said, trying to sound soothing and calm, just the opposite of how he felt.

Faith recognized his voice, and stopped fighting. She let him cover her and croaked one word between coughs, "Hurts."

Bill's heart ached. "I know, Babe. We're going to get help. Hang on." He fastened two remaining shirt buttons before lifting her into the truck.

Ignoring all laws and limits, Bill sped to town. Faith lay on the seat with eyes closed, and coughed continuously. He remembered seeing the firehouse near the church and concentrated on getting there without crashing, all the while talking a steady stream.

"You're safe now, Faith. You're going to be all right. We're almost there. Hang on," unsure of how much she heard.

Holding her body steady with one hand, Bill wheeled into the firehouse parking lot. Even before he hit the emergency call button concerned citizens were already rushing toward them. As the siren wailed, bringing help from distant homes and fields, a new panic grew inside him. 'Who can I trust?'

"We need an ambulance! There's a fire at Faith Simmons' house!" he yelled, as people closed in.

When Pastor Tom came running from the church, Bill felt some relief. He knew Faith liked him and he had to depend on someone.

People were yelling questions and Bill tried to answer. The Preacher took control and began barking orders. The crowd answered, "Yes, Sir," and "Okay, Chief."

Pushing past Bill he began to examine Faith, asking calmly, "Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you understand." Bill saw a slight movement of her fingers. Pastor Tom continued, "I'm going to give you some oxygen. It will help you breath." Turning to Bill he demanded, "Tell me what happened." And seeing the blood smeared on his arm, he asked, "Are you hurt?"

As Bill gave him the details, someone drove up in the ambulance and an oxygen mask was placed over Faith's nose and mouth. The Preacher froze momentarily when Bill told the part about Butch, but he never looked away from Faith.

Finally, Bill added, "When I found her she was..." the words stuck in his throat, "She may have been sexually assaulted."

The Pastor briefly closed his eyes, and seemed to be trying to regain control of his emotions or praying. Looking around, he yelled, "Jack! Come here," and while Jack checked her vital signs, the Pastor left to talk with another firefighter.

Returning, Pastor Tom moved Faith to a stretcher, saying, "We're taking her to Saint Lucy's Hospital, right now."

"I'm going with you."

"No! You're not," and then with a hint of compassion added, "We'll take good care of her. There's nothing more you can do for her now. You need to stay here and talk to the police. They're on the way."

A fire truck siren smothered any attempt to argue.

As the ambulance pulled out a State Trooper arrived. Bill stood dazed and swayed with emotion as the fireman, whom Pastor Tom had spoken with earlier, relayed information to the Trooper. When he finished, the volunteer got into his car and sped after his squad.

The Trooper walked briskly over to Bill, and said, "Sir, I'm Officer Baker and I understand you have some information about this fire. May I have your name, please?"

"Bill Holder."

Pointing at Bill's arm, he asked, "Are you hurt, Mr. Holder?"

"No. It's someone else's," and then, wanting to get things rolling in the right direction, he blurted out, "Someone killed Butch... I don't know his last name. Then they set the fire and left Faith inside to burn."

His explanation sounded surreal. 'This isn't just a nightmare anymore.' The horrible consequences of his failure to protect her weighed heavily on him, along with guilt for not staying by her side. Absently he muttered, "It's all my fault."

"Before you say anything else, Mr. Holder, I need to advise you that you have the right to remain silent, if you give up that right..."

After the Officer finished, Bill said, "You need to find Bob Engles. I think he's responsible for what happened."

"Are you talking about, Bob Engles, the town supervisor?"

Bill explained everything that'd happened -- from stopping Butch's assault on Sunday to what Faith overheard outside Engles office this morning -- leaving out his own ideas about motive. 'They can figure that out.'

When Officer Baker was done writing down the summary of Bill's statement, he said, "Come with me please, Mr. Holder."

Bill found himself in the back of a police cruiser for the first time in his life. The radio was crackling with coded messages, as they headed back to Talon Mountain.

The new bunkhouse resembled the ash pile of the old one. The only difference, the new one was still smoldering and was cordoned off by yellow crime scene tape. Along with the firemen, there were a number of police, wandering around, searching for clues.

Officer Baker parked next to another State Trooper. "I'm going to talk to the Investigator in charge. You can get out and walk around, but stay on this side of the tape."

Baker opened the backdoor. Bill got out and walked along the tape, staring at the rubble in disbelief. A gray tarp covered Butch. The huddled officials listened, as Officer Baker recited from his notes, and then all eyes turned in his direction.

To ease some of his worry, Bill looked for Hershey. "Here, Hershey! Here, girl!"

A few seconds later, she came slinking out of the woods and he knelt to comfort the frightened dog. "Good girl. You saved Faith's life, do you know that." Suddenly, he found himself wiping away uncontrollable tears.

A Ford Bronco, with the Town of Woodhaven's official seal emblazoned on the door, arrived. A heavyset man in a blue nylon windbreaker stepped out and headed for the police huddle. A rumbling growl from Hershey supported Bill's suspicion that he might be Engles and he grabbed her collar in time to keep her from attacking. The vicious barking attracted everyone's attention, including the new arrival. The man actually jumped sideways, and banged his leg against a car bumper. The grimace on his face was quickly erased and Bill had the impression the man was doing his best to conceal an injury.

The officials walked over to meet and greet him on the civilian side of the tape.

Holding tight to her collar, Bill said, "Hershey, no!" and walked in the suspects direction.

"Keep that dog away from me," warned the late arrival.

Hershey was fighting hard to get free. "She doesn't seem to like you very much. Why is that, Bob?"

The shock of hearing his name from a stranger flashed briefly across Engles face.

"Hi, Bob," said the lead officer, as they approached, "What can we do for you?"

Ignoring Hershey, Bob shook hands and said, "Just stopped by to check on my neighbor. I was home picking up some paperwork and I heard on the scanner that there was a fire up here." Glancing at Bill, he said, "Butch told me he caught one of Faith's guests getting fresh with her on Sunday. When I talked to her this morning she told me the guy was still here and she was afraid of him. I sent Butch to check on her earlier and I never heard back from him. I wanted to see what happened." Looking sweaty, he asked, "Is Faith okay?"

"Thanks for the information Bob. Officer Baker here will take your statement. This is now a homicide investigation and whatever you can tell us will be appreciated."

Bob said, "Anything I can do to help."

When Engles posture relaxed, Bill had the impression he seemed pleased to hear someone's death was involved.

With precise timing, the lead investigator added, "You'll be happy to know that Faith will recover."

Engles' answer sounded shaky, "Well... That's great news!"

Officer Baker pointed to the dark circle on Engles pant leg, and said, "You're bleeding."

Bill couldn't resist asking, "That wouldn't be a dog bite would it?" as he held Hershey back.

Engles edged away, saying, "I need to get back to the office. If I think of anything else I'll give you a call."

Looking at his notes, the Investigator asked, "Is it true that you want Faith's land, Bob?"

The question pushed Bob to the breaking point and he ran several feet before Officer Baker persuaded him to stay. As Baker read him his rights, Engles kept repeating, "I want my lawyer."

Bill asked permission to go to his cabin and the police said he was free to go.

Taking Hershey with him, Bill wandered the short distance, feeling numb and empty. Mechanically, he undressed and showered, vacantly watching the day's grim evidence flow down the drain. When he was dressed and about to go out, someone knocked on the door.

Outside stood Officer Baker. "Mr. Holder, the doctor's at Saint Lucy's would like to see you. Ms. Simmons is awake and very agitated. They've had to sedate her. She keeps asking for you."