“You guys still functional? I know it’s been a rough day.”
“I doubt either of us is gonna get much sleep tonight, so come on in,” Dee said.
He did so and the three took seats in the living room after Raul declined their offer of a drink or something to eat. Nugget, worn out by spending the last few hours trolling the living room and kitchen for dropped treats, positioned himself at Dee’s feet and promptly fell asleep.
“So, what’s the verdict?” Jeff asked. “Arson or accident?”
“Arson,” the sheriff said, his tone terse. “The FD investigator instantly picked up the scent of gasoline. He found evidence of it on the foundation. Whoever did this wasn’t a pro and didn’t do much to disguise their act.”
“Jeff told you it was the cabin where Michael stayed, right?” Dee asked. Raul nodded in the affirmative. “Which means someone burned it down either because they thought it contained incriminating evidence or to send us a message.”
“I’m guessing it’s door number two,” Raul said. “O’Bryant has all of Baker’s electronics. Laptop, phone, tablet. We went through the place looking for additional clues and it’s a sure bet you did the same once we were gone.”
“Only because I had to put together all of his belongings,” Dee said, feeling a little guilty for following up law enforcement’s thorough investigation of the cabin with her own snooping.
Jeff wrinkled his nose. “Sorry to interrupt, but the garbage is really starting to stink. I’m gonna put it in the bear box.”
He got up and went to the kitchen, where he picked up a trash bag. He walked over to the side door, which led out of the apartment to the side yard, where the bear box that protected trash from hungry visitors like Stoney was located. He stopped.
“Huh. That’s weird.” Jeff bent down and picked up an envelope from the floor. “Did you see this?” he asked Dee. “It’s addressed to you.”
“It is?”
“Only your name. Not your address.”
Jeff put down the bag and gave Dee the envelope. Her name was typed on the outside of it. She opened it and removed a sheet of paper. Dee read it and paled.
“What does it say?” Jeff asked. “From the look on your face, nothing good.”
“If we’re looking for confirmation it’s door number two—someone burned down the cabin to send a message—we got it in this note.”
Dee handed the missive to Raul. Jeff read its contents over the sheriff’s shoulder: STOP POKING YOUR NOSE IN OTHER PEOPLE’S BUSINESSES . . . OR ELSE.
CHAPTER 25
“So much for feeling like we were finally accepted by the locals.”
Dee’s voice shook as she said this. It was one thing to intuit people weren’t “fans” of theirs, to use Hollywood jargon. It was another to have a threat hand-delivered.
“Don’t write off the whole town,” Raul said. “This is from one person. Most likely, our killer.”
A frisson of fear coursed through Dee. She gulped. “Which means the killer either was here—like, pretending to be a volunteer—or slipped the letter under the kitchen door.” The apartment, which she’d come to feel was a refuge, now felt more like a potential death trap.
Jeff’s lips formed a thin line. “We’re changing the locks tomorrow. The doors are sturdy. Jasper Gormley probably wanted to make sure they were bearproof. So new locks should do it, regarding better security. And I’m spending the night on the couch.”
“I’d say ‘you don’t have to do that,’ but I’d be lying.”
Jeff lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and she gave it a grateful squeeze.
“I’m holding on to the note,” Raul said. “The envelope too.” Dee handed it to him. “And I need a list of everyone you can remember who was here tonight. If you don’t know their names, write down what you remember about them. With enough detail, I should be able to identify anyone from Foundgold or Goldsgone.”
“I already made a list of suspects,” Dee said, hastily adding, “Of course, you have one too. Duh. The expression ‘duh,’ not the bad show I was on. Are you going to question them?”
“I have to proceed with caution.” The sheriff carefully placed the paper back inside the envelope. “Otherwise, O’Bryant will be all over me. Law enforcement can be very territorial, if you haven’t noticed.”
“We have,” Jeff said. Dee gave a vigorous nod of agreement.
“Step one is checking the note for prints. Wearing gloves when you drop off a threat like this is Criminal Activity 101, so I doubt we’ll find any besides Dee’s. Which reminds me, stop by the station tomorrow so I can take yours.”
“I’ll come by first thing in the morning.”
“Good. Then it’ll be on to step two.”
Raul stood up. Dee and Jeff walked him to the door, where he stopped. “I don’t have to tell you to keep this note business to yourself, but I’m gonna say it anyway. There’s another reason why we wanna proceed slowly and carefully and let as little information out as possible. We don’t want to put a scare into our prime suspect. A scared suspect is a dangerous suspect. From my experience, someone who’s killed once has a whole lot less trouble doing it a second time.”
With that ominous observation, Raul departed.
Jeff, who had parked himself on the couch, threw his head back and splayed out his arms. “I love how when you think things can’t get worse, they somehow manage to.”
Dee, brow furrowed, tapped her index finger against her lips. “Raul may have to play by the rules, but we don’t. The four people hovering around the punch bowl were Liza, Shawn, Jonas, and Brian. Liza is too smart to literally hand me a drugged cup of punch. We know there’s something sketchy with Jonas and the warehouse. We need to do a little recon on Shawn and Brian. Not sure how to poke around Brian, but it’s my turn to schedule a private training session with Shawn.”
“God be with you on that. I don’t think my neck will ever be the same.” Jeff winced and rubbed the offending body part.
“Let me see if Gym Dandy has a website, or if you have to make an appointment in some old-timey way, like having the request delivered by Pony Express.”
Dee left the living room for the bedroom, where she retrieved her laptop from between her mattress and box spring, the rudimentary hiding place where she’d tucked it when volunteers began flooding the motel. She returned and set up shop on the dining-room table.
“Yay, Gym Dandy is twenty-first century when it comes to their business. I can schedule a session right from the comfort of my own home. Let’s see what Shawn’s avails are for tomorrow.” She typed and then examined her screen. “Except for an appointment with none other than Verity Gillespie—who, by the way, I noticed was not part of our volunteer brigade of firefighters and kind, helpful citizens tonight—Shawn’s schedule is wide open. I’ll book an appointment for eleven, after I get fingerprinted at the sheriff’s station.”
