Opal Fire (16 page)

“To frame me? Ruin my business? Monique is the only person who hates me that much.” Cin said.

I considered this. “I don’t know. I’m still leaning towards a cover-up of the murder.”

“But you said yourself, the body was there for more than twenty years,” Cin said. “Why now?”

“Jesus Lord, who gave that dog pepperoni!” Derek said and covered his nose. “I’ll have to get this ride overhauled just to get the stank out.”

I looked at Derek and a tiny bell rang in my head.

“Derek, you’re a genius,” I said.

“I am?”

“He is?” asked Cin.

“Yep, because I just figured out where it all started.”

CHAPTER 21

Thor grabbed a drink from the water fountain and I went to check in with Parker.

He was reading the comics when I knocked on the open door.

“Well if it isn’t the Angel of Death,” Parker said.

“Not funny.”

“Heard you had an interesting morning.”

“You said a mouthful.” Literally. He was eating a sub.

“Any new leads on the fire?”

“No, but you have fresh copy and photos, plus I’ll get you the piece on the coroner’s murder.”

“Any suspects?”

“Not yet. I’ll have to check in with Leo.”

“That reminds me. He called. Wants you to stop at the station.”

Before I could take care of any other business, I had to pump out a story on the murder of the coroner. I sent it to Parker, then called Chance.

“Tony has your Jeep, but I doubt it can be resurrected,” he said. “Then I think Leo wanted to scrape it for evidence.”

“Thanks. Did you find my bag?”

“Nope. Sorry.”

Damn. “Can you give me a ride to the DMV?”

“Anything for you, gorgeous.”

The implication of his words hung in the air like spicy cologne as I dialed my credit card company. Turned out explaining a lost card wasn’t as easy as it seemed. After spinning on the merry-go-round of customer service, in which they claimed I would need the account number or access code on the back of the card to request a new one, to which I countered, but it’s at the bottom of the lake and I’m not a deep-sea fisherman, I hung up.

Chance had the motor running when I walked out.

“I’m starving. Mind if we grab a sandwich?”

“That sounds great,” I said.

Over ham and cheese melts and green tea at Muddy Waters, Chance listened to the theory that sprang to mind when Derek mentioned overhauling his ride. Cinnamon had everything lined up to do renovations on the bar, which might have led to tuck-pointing and sealing the brick in the basement. If it looked like the structure was damaged in any way, old bricks might have needed to be replaced and the body could have been discovered. Perhaps whoever was responsible for the arson thought it might be easier all the way around if the place just burned to the ground. But it didn’t, so he or she snuck back in and filled in the three missing bricks.

He sat back, thoughtful for a minute, and ran a napkin over his lips.

“If Cinnamon filed all the paperwork to get the renovations done, there are dozens of people who could have access to that request. Contractors can freely bid on projects for historic buildings, although not all of them would get approved. Plus the office personal, city officials, and anyone on the historic preservation committee would have to vote on it for final approval.” He bit into a pickle.

I sighed. If the renovation request is what set in motion the need to cover up the body, and therefore the reason for the arson, then I had to be getting closer to Kathy’s killer. And, I suspected, Mr. Sagnoski’s. The question was, how did I find out exactly who had seen the documents? And even if I gathered that information, how do I know the person didn’t talk about the job? Anyone could have overheard a conversation like that anywhere in Amethyst. The rumor mill was a 24x7 operation. So even if I got my hands on the list of contractors and board members who needed to approve the work, that did not mean the person responsible for Kathy’s death wouldn’t have heard of it.

“Where do I start?”

“Talk to Kirk McAllister, the building inspector. He’ll know every hand that touched that document.”

I ran into Monique coming out of the DMV. She looked like she ran into a paint palette.

“Well if it isn’t Susie Sunshine,” she said.

“Hello Monique. I see you’re learning to color inside the lines. Good for you.” I brushed past her and gripped the handle when she stopped me.

“I hear you’re investigating about what you found inside your cousin’s bar. Planning on printing all the gory details? Not a good idea.”

“Who told you that?”

Her white furry hat reminded me of a horny rabbit I had once. “A man who loves my company who is just young enough to please me, but not too young to get me arrested.”

Derek. Now I had an excuse to let Cinnamon kick his ass.

“Monique, when you start sleeping with my editor, then you can tell me what to print. Seducing the photographer doesn’t carry any clout. Didn’t they teach you that in slut school?”

She fumed. “Stacy, tourists hate to read about dead bodies and murders while they’re scarfing down burgers. Ruins their whole weekend. Don’t suppose your grandmother can support herself on Social Security.”

She smiled the way Lucy would before she yanked the football away from Charlie Brown.

I was too tired to think of a clever comeback so I pulled her hat over her face and went to get my license.

Chance graciously waited for me and dropped me at City Hall when I was finished. He hugged me close and said, “Please be careful.”

“I will. Thanks for the ride.”

A smile formed on his face as his mind minced my words into a double entendre and he drove away.

I was about to rap on Kirk McAllister’s door when I heard a loud voice drift through the wood.

“Kirkie, no. I wanna go home now.” The slow drawl belonged to Eddie, Kirk’s brother.

Eddie. He won the bid for the mason work.

If Kirk responded I couldn’t hear it.

Eddie came through again, shouting. “You can’t make me! I do good work!”

A muffled tone. Then Eddie said, “You stop now! I’m going!”

The knob twisted and I stood there facing Kirk and Eddie.

Eddie pushed past me and ran down the steps.

“Eddie!” Kirk shouted, but his brother kept going.

He sighed and turned to me. “What can I do for you, Stacy?”

“I was wondering if I might take a look at Cinnamon’s proposal for the renovations she had in mind at the Opal.”

“Okay.” Kirk’s eyes watched as Eddie shoved the door open. “Well, I can dig it out for you, but it will take a while. It’s been filed already.”

“I can wait,” I said. “Actually, I was really interested in the bids.”

“The bids? Why?”

Good question. Why would I want those? “Well, I thought I might have a patio put in at the cottage, so I could use some contacts.”

“I could put a list together for you.”

Of course he could. That was the kind of week I was having.

“Well, it’s been my understanding that when it comes to the businesses and the historic nature of Main Street, contractors can be quite fair. For the private sector, though, I heard prices vary greatly, so I was just hoping to get an idea of what to expect someone to charge per hour.”

Kirk looked at me like I was snowing him, which, of course, I was.

“The bids are confidential until the request filters through the entire approval process and since the fire, everything has been put on hold. We’re waiting for the insurance report.”

“But I thought Eddie was pretty much approved to do the job?”

“Well, he was in the lead, he’s the best mason worker around, but the initial request called for carpentry and metal work as well. There was a newer construction company with subcontractors who could have done it all at a pretty fair price that I was about to show to Cinnamon before the fire.”

Kirk said he would give me a call after he pulled together the contact list. I thanked him and left City Hall non-plussed. But something about that brotherly exchange didn’t sit well. The vision I had at the Elk’s Lodge–Kirk standing over a fresh grave–penetrated my mind.

I thanked Kirk and jogged across the street to meet Leo.

Could Kirk have had something to do with the fire? And who was lying in the gravesite? I tried to recall the voice I had heard from the scrying session. I thought it was deeper than Kirk’s, but could it have belonged to him? He would have been just past thirty in 1989. Eddie was ten years younger.

“Stacy?” Betty interrupted my thoughts. Her bouffant hairdo took up all the space in the threshold and her lilac perfume took up all the space in my lungs. “You coming in, honey?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“He’s waiting for you in his office.” Betty went back to her tabloid and I pushed through the little half gate.

I sometimes wonder if, had I knocked first, things would have turned out differently.

Leo smiled when he saw me and I barely got the door closed when I said, “You are going to be proud of me.” I slithered to his desk, leaned over and grabbed his shirt.

As I was kissing him a voice said, “So why is that, Miss Justice? Did you
not
find any dead bodies this afternoon?”

Son of a bitch.

I pulled back, pasted on a smile, and faced the Mayor.

“That’s right, Mr. Mayor. Just the one.”

“Well maybe things will pick up.” He filled the folding chair in Leo’s office. Legs crossed, hands steady, he had the practiced aura of a man who never lost at poker.

“So,” I turned back to Leo, “what did you want to see me about? Did you find any evidence in my water-logged vehicle?”

“No. We’re still working on the Jeep, it’s some mess. No prints on the scalpel either.” Leo darted his eyes to his favorite uncle. “I wanted to give you this.” He handed me an envelope.

I raised my eyebrows at him and opened the envelope. Inside were a brochure and a ticket for a cruise. I was flabbergasted.

“We’re going on a cruise!” My voice raised an octave and I smiled back at the Mayor.

He avoided my eyes.

“Wow, Leo, this is perfect. As soon as things settle down.”

Leo stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Actually. It’s just for you. I thought you could use a break.”

I dropped the envelope.

“Are you kidding? Leo, I’m working on a story.”

“You mean interfering with an investigation,” said the Mayor.

I backed up, so I could look at both of them.

“No. I’m working on a story.” I said it slow and clear so no one would be confused.

The Mayor stood. “Is that what you call telling the parents of a lost girl that their daughter is dead?”

“That was an accident.”

“Yes, well your accident,” he used finger quotes. I hated that. “Had me on the phone for an hour with a distraught mother. I had to promise her we would find the girl’s killer.”

“We will,” I said.

“WE HAVE NO BODY!” The Mayor shouted. “Now, if it even was the Sims girl, how do I tell them they can’t bury their daughter?”

No one spoke for a minute. A wave of guilt washed over me.

I spoke softly. “It was her. The clothes she was wearing, the pin. I saw the same pin in a photograph at her home.”

“Gone,” said Leo.

“But I saw them. I can identify her possessions,” I said, aching for her parents. I knew I screwed up, but I couldn’t do anything about that now.

The Mayor stepped forward. “You will do no such thing, Miss Justice. I want you off this story, before you screw up this case and more people wind up with their throats slit.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Mayor, you have no authority over me. You can’t force me into submission.”

“No.” He reached for his hat and coat. “But I do have authority in this town. Things like Bed and Breakfast licenses, building permits and liquor ordinances are well within my reach.”

I watched him leave and then I turned to Leo. “Did he just threaten my whole fucking family?” I said.

Leo looked down and raked his hand over his hair.

“Leo?”

He sighed. “Take the cruise.”

“What?” I was shocked. “Are you kidding me?”

“Stacy,” Leo said sharply, “I’m afraid what will happen to you if you keep pushing this. You have taken this thing to a whole different level. It’s not your job anymore, you made it personal. You’re not thinking clearly and you need to stop and gain some perspective.” He raised his voice, “Leave the investigating to me. Are we clear?”

I was so angry my hands were shaking, but my voice was low and steady. “Now you listen to me, Leo. I nearly died in that fire. My cousin nearly died. She lost her livelihood. The business she poured blood, sweat and tears into. Someone ran me off the road, tossed a rock through my window, and planted an explosive on my porch. It is personal, goddammit!”

I stopped talking when I realized I wasn’t helping my case.

Leo put a hand on my shoulder. “Please, get out of town for a while. Let me figure out who’s doing this.”

I shrugged him off. I had every intention of telling him about how the fire started when I walked in there, about the mysterious deliveryman. But now, something made me keep that from him.

“I can’t walk away, Leo.” I met his eyes and said, “And if you can’t understand that, we’re done here.”

Leo stepped forward, his dark eyes meeting mine. “Okay,” he sighed. “We won’t talk about it anymore. I’ll call you later.”