by Jenna Brandt
Chad’s brows came together in an angry furrow. “That’s not true. That’s not me,” he pointed to the picture on the table. “I texted Miss Deveroux to come over right after I left the gala.”
“We can clear this up really quickly. What are the dates for the other fires, so my client can provide his whereabouts for them,” the lawyer requested.
The detective rattled off the dates as the lawyer wrote them down. “Can you recall where you were on these nights, Chad?” she asked, slipping the paper over to him.
He looked at the dates. He shifted in his seat, then shrugged. “Miss Deveroux can confirm those dates, as well.”
Who on earth was Miss Deveroux? Why was Chad spending so much time with her? Christian wondered to himself. He leaned over and looked at the business card the lawyer had given the detective.
Miss Deveroux
Dominatrix
Christian had to force himself not to burst out in laughter. How typical, an abusive man who thrived on lording his power over others secretly liked being mistreated in private.
“We’ll be looking into your alibis for the fires, but if they don’t check out, you’ll be hearing from us,” the detective warned.
Christian watched as Chad and his lawyer stood up and exited the interview room. He turned his attention to the detective once they were alone. “You know that his alibis don’t mean anything. Miss Deveroux’s services can be bought; he could have easily paid her to cover for him.”
The detective nodded. “I know, but it’s all we have to go on. There were no prints on the bottle you recovered.”
“True, but I just got the list for where the acetone is sold locally. There are only two beauty supply stores in town. Hopefully, one of them will be able to give us a detailed description of the arsonist. My money is still on Chad Mortonson.”
“He does seem like he’s hiding something. Of course, with a ‘fine, upstanding’ guy like that,” the detective stated sarcastically, “it could be a myriad of other things.”
“I’m going to head over to the beauty supply stores. Do you want to come with me?” Christian offered.
The detective shook his head. “I have some other cases I need to handle. You’re more than capable of taking care of this on your own. Call me and let me know what you find out.”
“Will do.”
An hour later, Christian arrived at the first beauty supply store. He made his way inside and asked to speak with the manager.
A petite woman with dark skin and a friendly smile came from the back and introduced herself. “Hello, officer, I’m Corrine Wilks, the manager of this store. How can I help you?”
“Investigator Perez,” he corrected, handing her one of his business cards. “I’m an arson investigator for Disaster City Search and Rescue. I’m working with the Dallas fire department investigating a string of arsons here in Dallas. The accelerant used to start the fires is acetone, a brand sold here at your store.” He pulled out a picture of the bottle and handed it to the woman. “Have you sold any of this chemical in the past month?”
The woman took the picture and went over to the computer screen behind the counter. She spent a couple of minutes typing, then looked up with disappointment. “I’m sorry, Investigator Perez, but we haven’t sold any of that particular acetone in nearly three months. We’re thinking of discontinuing it as there’s been newer ones that have come out that are easier on nails. Even though they’re more expensive, our customers seem to like them better.”
“So, you’re saying the one used to set the fires is cheaper?”
She nodded. “By half, but it’s much more corrosive to the nails, so a manicurist has to be really careful when using it.”
That made Christian question his theory that it was Chad. He was wealthy and would be more likely to buy an expensive chemical, thinking it was of higher quality.
“Thank you for the information, Mrs. Wilks.”
“Miss Wilks,” she corrected, adding, “and you can call me Corrine. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance, but you can call me any time if you have more questions.” She took a business card from the counter, flipped it over and wrote a number on it, then handed it to him. “That’s my personal cell number. You can use it any time.”
Christian ignored the woman’s blatant flirting. It wasn’t the first time, it probably wouldn’t be the last, that someone behaved that way when they saw him in uniform. Not wanting to be rude, he took the card, and slipped it into his pocket.
He exited the store and drove across town to the other beauty supply shop. He entered it, and immediately noticed that the place was much more rundown than the other store.
“Can I speak with the manager, please?” Christian requested.
The retail worker went to the back and a few minutes later, an older Asian woman came out. She had a stern look on her face, like she was put out that whatever she had been doing had been interrupted.
“Yes, what do you need?” she snapped out.
Christian introduced himself like he did before and explained why he was there. “Have you sold any of this chemical in the past month?”
The older woman took the photo and went to the computer, just like the last manager. This time, however, she looked up with a pleased look on her face. “I sold a dozen bottles of this in the past month.”
“Do you have any records of who you sold it to? Did they pay with credit cards?”
The woman lifted a finger up. “Four bottles were sold to one of my regular customers. She owns a nail salon down the street and paid with her credit card. The other eight were sold to a man I’ve never seen here before. He was a bit strange, acting a bit jumpy, and wearing a hoodie and baseball cap. I thought he might try to steal something. Instead, he bought eight bottles of my cheapest acetone. I thought it was odd, so I asked him what he was using it for, since we don’t get a lot of men in here. He told me he was going to use it to prepare metal before a soldering project. I didn’t think anything of it, since it can be used for that. No credit card number; he paid cash.”
Christian had his suspicions the arsonist was hoping that whoever was assigned to his case wouldn’t think to check beauty supply stores and would stick to hardware stores, instead.
“Did he look like this guy?” Christian asked, handing her the photo from the nightclub footage.
“Yes, it could be the same man. I know that the guy who came in here had brown eyes.”
Brown eyes. Chad had green eyes. It was beginning to look more and more like Chad wasn’t behind the fires.
“I noticed you have cameras out front? Can I get the footage from the day you sold that acetone to the man?” Christian inquired, hoping he might be able to see what type of car the arsonist was driving, or even better, the license plate, if he was lucky.
She shook her head. “They don’t work; they’re just there to scare people from stealing.”
Christian tried to hide his disappointment as he turned around to leave. “Thank you for the help,” he called out over his shoulder.
“Wait, I have some information that might be helpful,” the younger worker said, calling out from behind him. Christian turned around, hopeful this wasn’t a dead end, too. “The guy’s hands were full with the bags, and he forgot to take his receipt. Mrs. Chung had already headed to the back to continue inventory, so I rushed out with the receipt. He was already in the car taking off, so I never saw him without his hoodie and baseball cap, but I can tell you what his car looked like.”
Christian came back over to the counter and pulled out his notebook. “Go on.”
“He was driving a dark blue sedan. It was in really nice condition.”
“Did it have two or four doors?”
“Two doors, BMW.”
“You don’t happen to remember the license plate, do you?”
“I do, because it was a personalized plate. It had ‘Oil Born’ on it.”
This new piece of information really confused Christian. He’d l
ooked into Chad’s background, and his family’s money didn’t come from oil, like many did in Texas. His family made their money in mines generations ago, and trust funds had been set up for all the future generations, including Chad. Each piece kept proving that Chad didn’t do this, or at the very least, the clues meant he had someone else do the dirty work, just like Megan suggested. Still, if he could catch the guy who set the fires, they could get him to admit that Chad hired him.
“I really appreciate the information,” Christian said, before turning around to leave. “You’ve helped possibly save someone’s life.”
Christian climbed into the driver’s seat of his SUV. He called Detective Bradshaw and told him what he had found out. The detective told him he would run the plates while he had him on the phone.
“We’ve got a hit. The car is coming back as registered to a William Wagner. He fits the description of our perp. Now that we have an address, I’m going to take a SWAT team to go pick him up.”
“Let me know when you have him in custody. In the meantime, I’m going to call Megan and see if she has any connection to the guy.”
“Let me know if there is. Good work, Perez.”
Christian ended the conversation and called Megan on his vehicle’s Bluetooth. She answered after the second ring. “Hi, Christian, I’m so glad you called. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
“I’m flattered, and I’ve been doing the same, but right now, I’m calling about the fires,” he explained. “We finally have some tangible evidence. One of the workers at the beauty supply stores saw the arsonist’s car and remembered the plate. We were able to run it through the police database and find out the car is registered to a William Wagner. Do you know him?”
Megan gasped on the other end. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered in a shrill voice.
“Who is he, Megan?” Christian probed, every fiber in his body wanting to find this guy and lock him up forever.
“He’s Heidi’s brother. Last I heard, he left town after his father’s death.”
“Well, he’s back, and it seems, set on revenge. I need you to be careful, Megan, until we find this guy. He’s not going to stop until we make him stop. Detective Bradshaw is heading to his house with a SWAT team, so hopefully all of this will be over soon.”
“Thank goodness. All of this has been so awful. I can’t wait for my life to be mine again. Can you come over and wait with me until we hear something?”
“Do you mind if I pick Cinder up first? I’m almost at the DCSRA facility now.”
“That’s fine,” Megan said with a heavy sigh. “I think I might lie down until you get here. My parents went to a party. I didn’t go because I’m exhausted and didn’t want to answer questions about the fire.”
“You’re there alone?” Christian questioned protectively. “I thought I told you to never be alone, Megan.”
“I’m not. My dad left a pair of bodyguards with me.”
Christian relaxed a little, knowing Megan would be safe until he got to her. “Okay, good. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
He hung up the phone and turned on some music for the rest of the drive. He couldn’t really concentrate on the songs that played, his mind preoccupied with thoughts about the fires. The arsonist had been really good at not getting caught, but he was starting to unravel and make mistakes. That was good for the case, but it worried him for Megan’s safety. If he got too desperate, he might jump to a final grand finale quicker than he intended. He just hoped Detective Bradshaw arrested him before that happened.
Megan was resting in her bed, when she heard a strange, scraping noise downstairs. Her eyes popped open, her body stiffening with frightened confusion. Was it one of the bodyguards? They were generally quieter than that, but perhaps a stray animal had gotten into the house. When she didn’t hear the noise again, she closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep until Christian arrived to be with her.
A few moments later, she heard the noise again. This time, louder and longer than the first time. Every inch of the little scared girl living inside her told her she would be better off staying in her bed, but she couldn’t help herself. She needed to know what was going on downstairs.
Megan swung her feet over the side of her bed and slipped on her robe, covering up her silk pajamas. She picked up her cell phone and padded down the hallway and stairs that lead to the lower level of the mansion.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she froze in panic. “Will, is that you?” Even as the words spilled out of her mouth, she didn’t need him to confirm who he was. He looked just like Heidi with his blond hair and brown eyes. “What…what are you doing here in my parents’ house?” she stammered out, as her hand dropped behind her back. She pressed the button on her phone to call Christian, then slipped it into the pocket of her robe without Will seeing it. She hoped Christian picked up and could hear what was going on.
“We both know why I’m here, Megan. I’ve come here to get justice for my sister.”
“What are you talking about?” she squeaked out. “Will, you need to go.”
“I don’t have to do what you tell me. I came here to make things right.”
Megan glanced from side-to-side, hoping to see one of the bodyguards somewhere in the vicinity.
“Looking for someone? No one’s here, Megan, the staff left hours ago. Your parents are still at their party, and I sent your bodyguards on a wild goose chase. I used an app that let me make a call that looked like it came from your phone. They think you snuck out to go to some nightclub downtown and went to find you. You’ll be long dead before they figure out the truth.”
Megan’s mouth went dry as her eyes rounded with fear. She was all alone with a man that wanted to kill her. Her only chance of surviving was to convince him to stop what he was doing. “I’m not sure what you’re planning, Will, but it’s not too late to change your mind.”
Will narrowed his eyes and growled out, “I’m not going anywhere. You deserve to die for what you did to my sister. Her death ruined my whole life. My father died last year from a broken heart, and my mom has never been the same since. Your money might have bought you a way out back then, but it won’t keep you from paying for what you did to my family now. You were always a vapid, spoiled, prima donna that cared more about material things than you did people. It’s why I’ve slowly taken away everything you loved. First your spa where you killed my sister, then your flagship gym, then the tutor center where you were trying to pretend that you were a good person, and finally, your home. I should have known you would have Daddy to fall back on. He’s the one that always gets you out of trouble, so it’s fitting that he loses everything he loves, too.”
“You don’t have to do this, Will,” Megan pleaded. “Your sister was one of my best friends. I loved her dearly, and no matter what you think, I wasn’t responsible for her death.”
“You sound really convincing, but I don’t buy it. It’s why I chose to use acetone for the accelerant. I did my research. I knew it was something that would have been used during my sister’s birthday spa party and would be overlooked at the scene of the crime. It also could be mistaken as a paint thinner for the remodel at the gym and at your apartment for maintenance.”
“But you messed up, Will. You accidentally left a container outside my apartment. The investigator figured out where you bought it—showed the picture from the nightclub across the street to the beauty supply store, and they identified your car. They went to your house today to find you.” Megan was stalling, hoping that the longer she kept Will talking, the sooner Christian could rush to her location, and stop Will before it was too late. “You’ll never get away with this.”
“I know all about what happened today. The police tripped my sensors, and I watched them on my cameras fumbling through my house like idiots. I’m not worried about the authorities, or that dull-witted firefighter you’ve been spending time with. I’ve left some evi
dence at your ex-boyfriend’s home and plan to give an anonymous tip once I’m done here. Even if they were able to identify my car at the beauty supply store, I can blame all of this on him. We look enough alike that I could say he took my car to make it look like it was me.”
Megan realized that Will actually thought he was going to get away with setting the fires, as well as what he planned to do with her next. The longer she talked to him, the more she realized that he seemed unhinged. She hoped she could appeal to even a small part of him that was willing to listen to her and understand how badly she felt about Heidi’s death.
“I’m truly sorry about what happened to your sister. I should have done more to keep her from taking those pills. If I had, she might still be alive,” Megan said, tears filling her eyes. “I was so self-absorbed back then, but her death changed me, Will. I’m a different person now. I’m trying to help others to make up for failing Heidi.”
Will shook his head back and forth violently. “No, no, I don’t care how much you want to pretend you’ve changed. You’re still the same selfish girl who caused my sister’s death and used your daddy’s money to buy off the cops and district attorney. It’s why I decided to come here tonight and make you understand once and for all there are consequences for your actions.”
It was becoming more and more clear that there was nothing she could say that was going to change Will’s mind.
“I’m done talking about this. It’s time to finish this once and for all,” he said, lifting a lighter up in the air and flicking it.
The small flame was bright in the otherwise dark foyer, glowing in an ominous way that made Megan’s heart lurch with fear. The strong smell of acetone penetrated Megan’s nose. Though the knowledge that the igniting liquid had always been there had been in the back of her mind, it wasn’t until she saw the flame that she truly realized he planned to set the mansion on fire with her in it.
