Chapter 18 #2
Hank wondered if the children had suspected it, too.
Maybe that explained why they all left Cobbler Cove so abruptly after the fire and had broken off all contact with their father.
Of course, they could’ve scattered because Lucas was a hard man and harder to be around.
He supposed that was for the Shoemacher children to know and none of his business.
Up front, Lincoln gave himself a little shake and resumed reading.
“I was in debt past the bottom of my pockets. How I got there is my shame and I’m taking that secret to my grave. Telling all of you wouldn’t help a soul but me, and it’s too late to help me. What matters is the barn was insured for a lot more than it was worth, and I needed it gone.
“There was a trucker who hauled hazardous chemical loads through here in those days and drank at the roadhouse outside of town.
I bought him a bottle of expensive whiskey one night and got him drunk and talking.
He told me how a fire could be set with the stuff he was hauling.
He said if it was put inside an enclosed space it would smolder for an hour or more and look like faulty wiring started the fire.
He told me once it got going good it would definitely burn hot enough to take down the barn.
When he finally passed out, I went outside and stole a couple buckets full of the stuff he was hauling.
“I figured I would put the powder down with some hay in a couple spots just inside the main barn doors and light it. I’d get it smoking so folks would realize the barn was on fire.
While it smoldered the barn crew and I would have plenty of time to get the horses out.
Then, about when the fire department got there, the fire would light off good and I would stand in my yard with everyone else acting shocked and watch it go up in flames.
“What I didn’t expect was for someone driving by to see a wisp of smoke coming out of the barn and call the fire department.
And I didn’t expect them to get there so dad-blamed fast. I was just about to call the farm employees in from the fields where they were bailing hay that day when I heard the fire truck’s siren in the distance.
“I panicked. They were going to put the fire out and save the barn, and I was going to go bankrupt and lose everything.
I ran to the nearest barn door and padlocked it.
Then I ran up into the hay loft and started a fire up there.
I had a bucket of the white powder left, and I threw it down in a pile of loose hay and threw my cigarette lighter into the pile.
Then I ran outside and almost made it back to the house before the truck came up the drive.
I met the truck and directed them to the locked end of the barn to delay them.
“The hayloft went up in flames faster than I expected, and by the time the firemen had their hoses out, flames were coming out both ends of the hayloft. They climbed ladders at both ends and went in to spray down the fire.
“The guy at the bar never told me what would happen when water hit the stuff I set the fires with. Turns out when calcium carbide is dropped into water, it gives off the same gas welding torches burn. If there’s any kind of spark or fire near it, the gas burns instantly and as hot as a welding torch.
As soon as the firemen hit the stuff I’d dropped into the pile of hay with water, it exploded into a massive blaze.
“The workers came running in from the fields and headed for the barn to pull out the horses. But I guess water from the hoses upstairs must’ve started flowing between the floorboards and hit the two little fires I’d started downstairs.
About the time the first stable hands reached the unlocked barn door a huge fireball exploded out of the alleyway and drove them back.
“I hollered at the men not to go in. And I hollered for all I was worth at those firemen to get out of there. I want my children to know I hollered. I didn’t want anyone to die in that fire. But nobody could hear a thing over the roar of the fire and the screaming of all those horses.
“I stood there in the yard praying for those firemen to back out of the hayloft and get out of there before the whole thing when up in flames. But it burned so hot and so fast they never had a chance. I stood there and watched eight better men than me die inside a fire I lit with my own two hands.”
Sutter’s voice had gone raw. He cleared his throat as he turned the page.
“I let this town grieve around me for five years like I was one of you. I stood at the memorial church service every August and prayed for the souls of those men with you. I meant my prayers for them, I’ll have you know.
This summer I lay in my bed and let this town tear itself apart over a question I could have answered with one sentence.
“I should’ve said something. I had a hundred chances to come clean over the years. But I was afraid of losing everything. Afraid of going to jail. Most of all, I was afraid to look any of the people listening to this in the eye once you knew what I’d done.
“I did mean to burn down that barn, but I never meant to kill those horses, and I absolutely never meant to get any people hurt, let alone killed. And that’s the God’s honest truth. There’s no apology the size of any of it, so I won’t insult anybody by trying to write one here.
“I’ve written each of my children a letter of their own.
What’s in those is theirs and nobody else’s.
To the eight widows I made . . . I will not insult you by putting your names on the same page as mine.
To you, I leave the truth. It’s the only thing I ever owned outright, and I’m sorry it comes to you this late.
“Sheriff Wheeler. This letter is my confession, given of sound mind, sworn and notarized. Close your case. The person you were looking for was always me.”
Lincoln looked up. “It’s signed, Lucas A. Shoemacher, notarized and dated one week ago today.”
Lincoln sat down and folded the pages.
Trent Shoemacher surged to his feet and strode out of the room.
A moment later a door slammed hard at the back of the house.
Hank stepped into the hallway to follow him but stopped when he reached the kitchen.
He watched Trent stride across the yard to the fence line and take hold of the top board with both hands.
He stood there, his back to the house, head down, like a man trying to hold his whole world together as it disintegrated around him.