Read Death at Gills Rock for Free Online

Wrestling coach. The whole bit.”
    â€œYou’re lucky,” Cubiak said, as a bitter childhood memory engulfed him. “Dad! Dad, get up.” He was eleven and Davey to everyone who knew him. He saw himself in front of the meager building where he lived with his parents, three of them in three rooms. He was leaning over the prostrate figure on the parkway, trying not to inhale the stink of vomit and beer from his father’s shirt. “Dad!” he begged, and while his two best friends watched from across the street, he wrapped his thin arms around his father and pulled him to a sitting position. “Dad! Get up, please. I have a game. I’m pitching. I’m gonna be late.”
    Walter tossed the wool throw on the table and dropped back onto the bench. He seemed exhausted.
    â€œNone of this seems real.”
    â€œIt never does,” Cubiak said. After a moment, he went on. “I hate to ask this: but do you know any reason anyone would have wanted to harm Big Guy—or either of the other two men?”
    Walter jolted upright. “No! They were the guys everyone loved. Maybe there was a little envy, but to do something like this?” He jerked his head in the direction of the log cabin. “No way. You aren’t thinking …”
    â€œI’m not thinking anything, just following procedure. The questions don’t always make sense… You checked out the space heater?”
    â€œNot really. It was already shut off when I got here. Then someone said you were on your way, and I figured I shouldn’t touch anything anyway, that maybe you’d want to look at it first.”
    â€œI gave it a quick once over but wouldn’t mind looking at it again.”
    Walter hesitated and then got up with the sheriff.
    They remained quiet walking to the cabin. At the door, Walter stopped and let Cubiak pass.
    â€œThe window was broken,” Cubiak said, indicating the cardboard, as he stepped inside.
    â€œYes,” Walter said. His voice sounded hollow, as if he were speaking from a different part of the universe. Still outside, he peeked in and glanced around. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with this place now. Maybe tear it down.”
    â€œIt’s a nice cabin. Give it time,” Cubiak said.
    As the sheriff bent over the space heater, he realized that when Walter arrived that morning the bodies of the three men had already been carried outside. This was his first time seeing the scene of the deaths. No wonder he was reluctant to cross the threshold.
    â€œLooks solid. Venting pipe seems fairly new. I don’t see any cracks or holes,” Cubiak said, as he heard Walter approach from behind. “Where’s the tank?”
    â€œIn the woods,” Walter said. He was ashen in the dim interior.
    â€œAnd the vent?”
    â€œOut back.”
    Cubiak led the way outside to the rear of the cabin.
    â€œThat’s it.” Walter stopped and pointed down. The small metal hood was low to the ground and painted black, making it nearly invisible against the dark exterior.
    Cubiak knelt and ran his hand along the underside of the cover. “Not much room is there?” he said, squeezing his thumb and index finger into the narrow opening. “What should I be feeling?”
    â€œSteel mesh. There’s a piece covering the exhaust hole.”
    Cubiak felt a soft lump inside the metal hood. “That’s not it. There’s something else here,” he said as he scratched at the obstruction.
    A small clump of dried leaves and grass fell into his hand.
    Walter leapt forward. “What the hell, those fucking squirrels,” he said, tearing at his hair.
    â€œSquirrels?”
    â€œWhat else? Chipmunks maybe, but I’d lay odds it was squirrels. The little bastards build nests and hide shit all over the place.”
    Cubiak stood and brushed off his knees.
    â€œYour father seems to have run a very successful