Waking Nightmare (30 page)
A voice sounded from inside the house. “Just a minute.”
Abbie glanced at Ryne. His burgundy shirt was the only splash of color against his black suit and tie. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes.
Despite her trepidation after their conversation this morning, it had been amazingly easy to face him again at headquarters, and she knew she had Ryne to thank for that. When she’d entered, she’d found him at his desk, poring over Larsen’s arson investigation report. Other than an initial searching glance, he’d been all business as he’d given her a run down of what he’d learned so far. It had been simple to follow his lead.
She could almost forget that the revelation she’d shared with him hadn’t been entrusted to anyone else in years. Not since her third interview with Raiker, prior to being hired. And that had been unavoidable. Adam Raiker didn’t tolerate secrets.
And now, apparently, she’d met another man who demanded the same level of candor. She was less sure how she felt about that.
The door opened as far as the security chain would allow. “Yes?”
“Ms. Larsen?” Abbie recognized the woman from a photo that had been included in the arson case file. She shifted to position herself in the woman’s view. “I’m Abbie Phillips. We spoke on the phone earlier. With me is Detective Robel.”
“I’m going to need to see some ID.”
Ryne held his shield up where she could see it, and the door closed. The rattle of a chain sounded and then the door opened to reveal a woman wearing what Abbie thought of as the new medical uniform: patterned smock, white pants, and pink rubber crocs.
“Sorry. I’m still a little nervous after all that’s happened.” Larsen stepped back and waved them inside.
“Perfectly understandable.” Abbie gave her an encouraging smile and glanced quickly around the small living area. The house was slightly bigger than the one she was staying in, and sparsely furnished. But there were fresh flowers in a vase on the TV. Some framed prints on the wall. Brightly colored throw pillows were placed on the couch. The room was as tidy in appearance as was the woman herself.
Larsen’s dark blond curls fell to her shoulders, framing a narrow face, carefully made up. Her lipstick was the exact shade of the polish on her neatly manicured nails, and the small hoop earrings she wore. “This is about the fire, right? Because I’d really like to get things settled with my insurance company. I lost all my things and I can’t afford to buy much until I know what the settlement is going to be.”
“We’d like to talk to you about the fire, if you have a few moments.” Ryne took his glasses off and indicated for the woman to sit. She looked from him to Abbie and back again before sinking slowly onto the couch.
“Where’s Officer O’Hare? He’s the one I’ve always dealt with before.”
“He’s still active on your investigation,” Ryne replied. “We’re here because there’s a possibility that your case is related to one we’re working on.”
The woman looked puzzled. “I don’t understand. The fire was started by a candle I left burning that caught my bedroom drapes on fire. Stupidly careless on my part, I admitted that. But how could my case be connected to any others?”
Ryne sat on the opposite end of the couch, facing her. “Some details in the fire investigator’s report caught my attention. For instance, there was some burned cable near your bed that has been identified as electrical cord.” He waited a beat. “Since most people don’t keep it lying around, it raises some questions.”
Larsen sent a quick glance toward Abbie, as if looking for help, found none forthcoming. “Exactly what kind of case are you two working on?”
“The cord?” Abbie pressed.
Larsen lifted a shoulder jerkily. “I had some leftover TV cable in a closet from when I had cable installed. But it wasn’t connected to anything. I’m not sure what that could have to do with the fire.”
Cable wiring and electrical cord were two very different things, but Ryne let it pass. His interest in the woman, however, deepened. He pretended to consult his notebook . “You told the investigator that you’d been out earlier that evening at some nightclubs.”
Larsen flushed, and her gaze dropped to her hands, linked in her lap. “I’d had a bad day. I decided to go out for a few drinks, something I
never
do. I mean, hardly ever. And yeah, I was pretty wasted when I got home, which is the only reason I would have been so careless with the candle.”
never
do. I mean, hardly ever. And yeah, I was pretty wasted when I got home, which is the only reason I would have been so careless with the candle.”
“And the locks on your doors.”
She looked up sharply at Abbie’s words. “What do you mean?”
“Woman living alone, coming home late . . . it was after the bars closed, right?” She didn’t wait for Larsen’s nod before continuing. “The report says you managed to escape before the fire truck came by smashing the bedroom window with a chair and climbing out. But the lock on your front door wasn’t secured when the firemen got there.”
Karen checked her watch. “I have to get going soon. I’ve got to be at work.”
“By eleven, you said.” Abbie smiled easily. “We have a bit more time. Do you remember locking the front door?”
“If you say it was unlocked, I believe you.” The woman shrugged, looked embarrassed. “You have to understand, I don’t normally hang out in bars. I’m not much of a drinker.”
“How much did you have to drink that night?”
“A half-dozen margaritas. And my usual limit is two, so I topped the stupidity factor in all areas that night. Now I’m living with the consequences, right?”
Because she detected the self-recrimination in the woman’s tone, Abbie sent her a commiserating smile. “Must have been a
really
bad day. I’ve had them myself. Something happen at work?”
really
bad day. I’ve had them myself. Something happen at work?”
“No.” Karen twisted a silver ring on her finger. “I was just feeling kind of blue. Lonely, I guess. I’ve only lived in Savannah since March and I haven’t met that many people.”
“So you just wanted to get out for a while to a place where crowds gather and interact with people,” Abbie said encouragingly. She didn’t look at Ryne but was aware of the way he was sitting back, letting her assume the lead in the interview. “Sounds perfectly normal. Did you meet anyone special to pass the time with?”
“Ran into some women I know from Memorial.”
“Is that the hospital you work at?” asked Ryne.
“One of them. I’m a temp nurse. I go wherever there’s a shortage. So I’ve worked at all the hospitals and some of the private practice clinics in the area, filling in as needed. You can actually make better money doing that than you can in a full-time nursing position,” she explained. “If you don’t mind the uncertain hours and last-minute calls.”
“So you hung out with these women most of the night.”
Larsen shook her head slowly, her gaze sliding away from Abbie’s. “Just chatted for a few minutes.”
“Meet any interesting guys while you were out?”
The woman’s expression closed. “I wasn’t out looking for men. I’m not a slut. I don’t do that. I’m not like that.”
The vehemence in her voice made it obvious that Abbie had struck a nerve. Striving for a note of humor, she said, “Sometimes we don’t have to be looking, we just have to be there. Men are like flies. They don’t wait for an invitation to land.”
An unwilling smile tugged at Larsen’s lips. “Yeah. Well, I encountered a few bar
flies
, but no one special. And I really have to go, or I’m going to be late for work.”
flies
, but no one special. And I really have to go, or I’m going to be late for work.”
She rose, and Ryne and Abbie followed suit. “One more thing, Ms. Larsen,” Ryne said. “Could you verify the places you went that night prior to returning home?”
Larsen looked wary. “Why?”
“Just part of our investigation.” He checked a page in his notebook, reading off the list she’d given to the officer on her case. Looking up, he said, “Are there any others that you forgot to mention earlier? Maybe one you didn’t stay long at?”
She swallowed hard, shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why are you here? What difference does it make where I was? What case are you working on?”
“We’ll be in touch,” Abbie said. She already had more questions than when they’d come here, but she knew they’d get no more from the woman right now.
They walked themselves to the door, as Larsen seemed to be rooted in place, next to the couch. Ryne opened the door and Abbie turned, as if just remembering something. “Oh, Karen. The fire investigator’s report mentioned as many as a dozen partially consumed containers, of the type used to hold candles. Did you light them all that night?”
“I must have.” Her voice was flat. “I probably did. Candles are romantic, right? Until one burns down your house.”
“Men are like flies?”
Still in the process of buckling her seat belt, Abbie smiled at the wry note in Ryne’s voice. “Just establishing a rapport. I didn’t mean it. Much.”
He flipped his glasses open and settled them on his nose before turning the key in the ignition. “I can imagine you’ve had your share of men circling around you. And we didn’t cover this earlier, but just so you know . . . I’ll be the only one ‘landing’ on you for the near future.” The look he sent her was unmistakable, even with the shades shielding his eyes.
“What a lovely sentiment,” she said tartly, smarting at the crude innuendo. “Maybe you can have it inscribed on a greeting card.”
He turned his attention back to the street as he pulled away from the curb. “It was your analogy. And it’s been a long time since I’ve done exclusive. But this . . . with us . . .” He halted, then muttered what sounded like an obscenity. “As long as this lasts, I won’t share,” he said flatly. “If that’s a problem for you, better tell me now.”
Her throat clogged, her ire of a moment ago fading as abruptly as it had formed. She believed his assertion that he hadn’t had a long-term relationship for a while. If anyone had “lone wolf” written all over him, it was this man.
Which made her reaction to his demand all the more powerful. The fact that he wanted an exclusive relationship now, with her, had tiny bursts of pleasure pulsing through her system. And alarm. That, too, of course. His notion that she had scores of men waiting in the wings was as ridiculous as it was flattering.
As was his assumption that she would know how to handle an “exclusive” temporary sexual relationship with him.
She busied herself tightening the seat belt that didn’t need adjusting. “I can live with that.”
“Good. So what’s your take on Larsen?”
Not for the first time, she was grateful at the way he could skate from personal to professional in an instant. “She’s hiding something, that’s a given. How far did the officer go to check out her story about the bars?”
“Not very.” Ryne took a left to head back to headquarters. “There was nothing suspicious about it. The fire investigator determined early on the source of the fire, and the insurance company is claiming negligence and balking at paying. It looked pretty cut and dried, although Shepard, the investigator, says she was damn lucky to escape through a window. The flames had already spread to block Larsen’s exit from the bedroom door. She got out a few minutes before the first fire truck rolled up.”
“She’d have to be sleeping pretty soundly for the fire to have gotten that far without her waking up.”
“Maybe she was passed out.”
“And maybe she was tied up, and couldn’t get free before then.”
They shared a glance. “A definite possibility. A good length of cord was found on the floor next to the bed.”
They mulled that over for a moment. “All those candles,” Abbie mused. “A dozen, you said.”
“That’s right. Nearly three o’clock in the morning, she comes home from a night of drinking, ‘wasted’ by her own account, and lights what would be, by anyone’s estimate, a large assortment.”
“Not that it happens frequently, but when I’ve had too much to drink, all I want to do is go home and go to sleep. What about you?”
His hesitation was barely noticeable. “I don’t drink anymore.”
Anymore.
She hadn’t missed the inflection he’d given the word. Nor had she missed the no trespassing signs in his voice. She filed the statement away to be explored later. “But she doesn’t go to sleep; she lights candles. Leaves the front door unlocked.” She shot him a glance. “What’s that sound like?”
She hadn’t missed the inflection he’d given the word. Nor had she missed the no trespassing signs in his voice. She filed the statement away to be explored later. “But she doesn’t go to sleep; she lights candles. Leaves the front door unlocked.” She shot him a glance. “What’s that sound like?”
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