The Winter's Guest

Years passed after that murder night, when a family was murdered and the kid went missing. It has been 16 years since that incident. No cops were able to find that kid and the murderers. They simply let the case closed and forgot about it. 

It was a cold morning of the winter, when a man arrived at the famous pub of the Texas city. He was dressed in a long black suit, with red tie and shiny shoes. 

"A glass of drink please." He asked the bar tender. 

"What brand do you want, sir?" The man asked. 

"That Scottish whiskey, gimme that one." He asked about the costly one. 

"Never saw you here, are you new to this city?" I asked. Judging by his looks and choice of the drink, it seemed like he was a rich guy. 

"Yeah, I just arrived here." 

With those words, he started drinking. The man sat alone, lost in thoughts as he sipped his whiskey. 

"So, what brought you here, in this city? On a business trip or something?" I asked out of the curiosity. 

"Nah, it's none of your business." He wasn't in a mood to talk. I decided not to disturb him. 
Just when he was about to pick money from his pocket, I heard a metallic voice. As an experience of being a detective for more than 10 years, I was sure it was the voice of a gun, colliding with the bullets. I began to think that this guy can be dangerous and he must have some target in this city. I tried again holding a conversation with him to clear all my doubts. 

"You know, this city is filled with bad people everywhere. You might get attacked by some street thieves since you look like a rich guy having enough money. If you want, I can help you in reaching the destination you want to go." I somehow tried. 

He heard my words, gave a slight gaze at me and then took a photo from one of his pocket. 

"This place. You know where is it?" He showed me the photo. I knew that place. 

"Yeah it's around 3 km away from here. But why do you want to go to such a place. There was once a fire out there and since then, the place got destroyed that no one lives there right now."

"I've got things to do there. Just want to search inside this home. It was my father's working place which he kept a secret with his family." 

"I see. You want me to give you the ride? It's cold out there, and you probably won't find a vehicle to reach there." 

"Fine by me." He took his time to think and then answered. 

"Well my name is Shibajaki. I was once a detective but I left the job after a few months when my wife died in a car accident." 

"I'm, Austin, Austin Bruno. Nice to meet ya detective!"

I felt like I've heard that name before. I thought but couldn't come to a conclusion. His tone kind of changed when he introduced himself. 

"Yeah nice to meet you too! Well then, shall we go?" I sipped my remained drink and asked him immediately. 

"Sure" He proclaimed. 

Both of us left the place together. He sat with me in my bike and then I headed towards that burnt street. All the way I was trying to remember where have I heard his name. It felt like once I had a connection with this man. 

"Well, what's your age, Austin?" I asked on the way. 

"I'm 22 years old detective. Why did you ask?" 

"Uh, it's nothing, I was just being curious you know!" 

"So, by any chance, do you happen to know anything about this 'burnt street'?" He asked. 

"Well I don't know much, but few years back, a fire suddenly broke out in that street which led a few people die. The exact cause of the fire was unknown but it was believed that a gas cylinder was blown up in the house that you showed me." I explained him. 
"So, what's your relation with this place?" I asked. 

"16 years ago, my parents and my brother were killed by some unknown men..."

I immediately stopped my bike. No it can't be him. It can't be him! The incident sounded just like the case which I worked on, 16 years ago. By any chance, was it him? It could be him. I remember his name now. Austin Vanetti, it was the kid's name who fled that night. He probably changed his surname. 

"What happened detective, something's wrong?" He asked after I stopped my bike. 

"You real name is Austin Vanetti, right?" I asked him.

"What made you think so? Mind if you elaborate?" 

"First tell me, you're the same kid that fled that murder night right?"

"Well, you're certainly right. It's me. And I'm looking for the revenge of my family death that happened 16 years ago." 

"I was right. I was thinking again and again that I've heard this name before. I feel sorry for your loss. You know, I was the detective of the crime scene that happened on that night. I worked for more than 5 years, but couldn't find anything regarding those murderers. Moreover, the police team searched for you for a whole week and you were no where to be found, that we thought that the trauma caused you to the death bed." 

"I see. So detective, tell me everything about your investigation that you looked upon in those years. Take me to them...Those bastards, I know you know something about them." 

His eyes, they were all filled with anger and pain. The incident had a deep effect on him. He looked dead from the inside, burning in a strong flame of revenge. 

"See, calm yourself down. Let's first go to this place that you're looking for. As even we detectives weren't able to catch up to this 'work' of your father that you are talking about. I might be of some help to you!" 

We then reached the street. Austin immediately ran off my bike and marked his steps towards that home that he was looking for. I followed him. 

"Keep quiet, someone's inside." He picked out the gun from his coat and stood before the main gate.

Just by looking at his handling of the gun, I knew that he had mastered this weapon. Had he ever killed someone? I wondered. I couldn't stop his raging eyes, moreover, I wasn't armed either. I decided to follow him and make sure he kept his anger down. 

Slowly, he opened the door, it wasn't locked. He immediately pointed his gun right after opening the door. There was no one. I picked up a rod that was lying on the floor. Someone's voice was coming from the upper floor. It seemed like he was talking to someone on the phone. Austin and I slowly climbed the stairs and found a man standing in a room with his back facing us, talking on the phone.

The man turned around as he heard us enter the room, and his eyes widened in shock as he saw Austin, pointing his gun towards him. 

"Who are you?" the man stammered, fear etched on his face.

"I'm the one you've been hiding from," Austin growled. "The one you thought you could outrun."

The man tried to make a run for it, but Austin caught him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. I could do nothing but watch his anger flowing through his every action. 

"Who else was involved in the murder of my family?" Austin demanded, his voice low and dangerous. 

"Austin, calm down. Don't be so hard. Let him speak, we..."

"Just shut the hell up!" He shouted in a tone of anger. 

The man on the phone hesitated, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of us and the guns pointed at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he finally spat out.

Austin tightened on the trigger of his gun, and the man on the phone flinched.

"Don't lie to me," Austin snarled. "I know you were there that night. I know you saw what happened."

The man on the phone's eyes flickered with fear, and he finally gave in.

"Alright, alright," he said, his voice shaking. "I'll tell you what I know."

Austin and I leaned in closer, eager to hear what the man had to say. It was finally time to get the answers we had been searching for, and Austin was in no mood to let this man slip away.