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The black and white pulled away but the blue sedan and the plain clothed officers stayed behind. The one built like a linebacker never muttered a word while he was there at Steve’s and I began to think he might be a mute. The smaller one, Sergeant Bower, waved us over to him and his partner by the curb.
He waited until we were closer and standing in front of them to say to Steve, “Son, I need to ask you a few questions, okay? But I want you to know you’re not in trouble here, so be honest with me.”
Steve nodded and said that he would.
“Did your brother happen to say anything to you about that fire up the street at all?” he asked. “Maybe brag about setting it or anything?”
“No sir,” Steve responded without hesitation.
Bower scribbled in his notebook and continued. “Have you ever seen him set anything on fire? Anything he shouldn’t?”
This time Steve waited a moment as if thinking and said, “No, sir. I don’t think so.”
“Hmm, okay. Do you know if your brother had any problems with anyone around the neighborhood? Was he mad at anybody that lived around here?”
Steve shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Alright,” Sergeant Bower said and closed his notebook, returning it to his back pocket. “One last question for you.” He hesitated this time before he spoke. “Do you know a woman named Emily Manning?”
My heart froze in my chest. I saw Jason look at Steve with fear in his eyes. What did he know about her and why was he asking us? Unless, of course, he knew what had really happened up at the abandoned house.
But without missing a beat, Steve told him, “Yeah, she lives down the street. About eight houses.”
The policeman just stared at Steve for a long, long time, studying him and finally said, “Was Jacob angry with her for anything, do you know? Had he threatened her at all lately?”
Steve puffed out his bottom lip, wrinkled his brow as if in long thought and said, “No. I don’t think so.”
And Sergeant Bower seemed to be content with that. He smiled and patted Steve on the shoulder and said, “There may be an officer coming by in the next day or so to talk to you and your mom about what’s going on with your brother, maybe take some statements from you. Okay?”
Nodding, Steve told them that it would be fine.
But as the two officers were walking around to get into each side of their sedan, Steve looked to his left and our attention shifted there as well. In their driveway, standing by the garage door, was Mr. and Mrs. Maherrin. Mark Payne, the young man that rented their guesthouse was with them. They were shading their eyes from the sun, looking in our direction, probably wondering what the police where doing at the Hanel house. When Steve saw them a smile flashed across his face and retreated just as quickly.
“Sergeant Bower,” Steve said just as the officer was getting into his car. “Sergeant Bower, I think there’s something you should know.”
***
Frisbee Page 70
