Fire Away

by R. L. Syme

  “You’ll figure it out.” Joe clapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “Meantime, I have to be at work in an hour. But if you need me, I can always leave after I open. Owen will be there tonight and he can run the place without me.”

  “I should go to the storage unit.” She looked up at her long-time friend, and tears threatened once again. “Thanks for checking up on me.”

  “That’s just one of the perks of being back in Somewhere, sweetheart. You get the full Joe Stalker treatment.” His dimples showed when he smiled, which was infectious.

  “I’m not moving back to Somewhere.”

  Joe laughed as he walked out, his boots clipping on the tile. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, honey.”

  Claire sank against the back of the couch. She would keep telling herself. This is only short term. Just a couple of weeks and it was back to Austin. Hopefully for good.

  Maybe if she could put a period on the sentence of Jane’s life, she’d really be able to leave and never come back. Leave the heartbreak… and Aidan… in her past.

  Where they belonged.

  Chapter Five

  Spending a night in jail wasn’t as bad as Aidan had expected. After Allan left on patrol, Jeff snuck in the fire burger that he’d been craving all day, and let him have the Clive Cussler novel that laid absently on someone’s desk.

  Then, when the shift changed and both deputies were gone, the new guys mostly left Aidan alone to read and sleep. They were more interested in an ongoing game of Risk than in tormenting or socializing with a prisoner.

  Prisoner.

  Aidan knew them both from work. They were good guys. Good enough, anyway.

  The bed was uncomfortable, but Aidan had slept on worse, and when he woke, he was surprised to see Jeff back. With breakfast. It was only a bowl of cereal with a paper carton of milk, but it was better than what he’d expected.

  At least someone felt sorry for him.

  “You awake now?” Jeff’s voice rang through the office and Aidan peered down the hallway. He was in the first cell, so he could see through his bars and the main hold bars. Jeff stood just outside, jingling keys.

  “Yup. What time is it?”

  “Almost nine. As soon as Judge Taylor’s office is open, I’ll take you over for arraignment.”

  Aidan swallowed a spoonful of his leftover milk, then decided to drain the bowl. “Why wasn’t I arraigned yesterday?”

  “We didn’t finish processing your documents until after the courthouse closed, so Sheriff said we should take you in first thing this morning.”

  “Will my…”

  “Your lawyer will meet us at the courthouse,” Jeff interrupted. “Hurry up before Allan gets back. I’d like to take you over before he’s here.”

  “Allan doesn’t like me, does he?”

  Jeff shrugged and opened the main hold bars. “He doesn’t like anyone.”

  Aidan put his arms through the opening, and Jeff clapped the cuffs on him. “But he really doesn’t like me.”

  The cell door opened and Jeff escorted Aidan out through the office and down the hall to the courthouse annex before answering. They stopped and stood facing each other in the dark hallway.

  “Allan thinks he has some kinda sixth sense about criminals. Sometimes the Sheriff will just release people because Allan doesn’t think they’re guilty. Like he can smell it on them or something.” Jeff scoffed. “The guy is a pompous ass. He doesn’t really like any of us. Not me, not the Sheriff, not your dad. Those VonBrandts are just so… well, they’re arrogant.”

  Aidan straightened his shoulders and kept his mouth shut. Adam VonBrandt had played football with him in high school and had been a stand-up guy. He couldn’t imagine Allan falling far from that tree, given they had the same dad. Sure, they were a strange family—too close, probably—but they weren’t bad people.

  “Why are you telling me this, Jeff?”

  Jeff glanced from side to side, then leaned in. “Because I overheard Allan tell the Sheriff you were guilty, and that usually means something around here.”

  Aidan’s chest tightened. He leaned back against the wall and pulled against his cuffs. Dammit.

  Jeff continued to come in closer, putting his hand on Aidan’s shoulder. “Look, you’re going to get a low bail, I’m pretty sure. You may even get ROR’d.”

  “ROR?”

  “Released on your own Recognizance. Means they let you out of jail until you’re convicted, basically.”

  “Right.” Aidan had a vague memory of having learned this process once, but it all escaped him once it was real and present. And dangerous.

  “I don’t normally do this, but…” Jeff gave him a pitying look. “I don’t think you did this. I believe your statement and Allan doesn’t. Unfortunately, the Sheriff doesn’t much care if I believe you, and I’m not golfing buddies with Judge Taylor, so I’m going to give you some advice.”

  He leaned closer. Aidan could smell the coffee on his breath.

  “You need to skip town.”

  Jeff nodded in short bursts while he waited for Aidan to respond, but there was just no reacting to a statement like that from a police officer.

  “Get your bail posted, or get your ROR, and they’re going to tell you that you can’t leave the state or whatever, but you have to get the hell out of Somewhere.”

  Aidan pushed out a long breath and stared at the ceiling. What the hell was Young doing? This was obviously why he’d wanted to bring Aidan down to Central Booking on his own. But what the hell did a guy do with talk like this?

  “Why are you saying this, Jeff?”

  The pudgy deputy glanced back the way they’d come and hushed Aidan still for a moment. “Look. I told you. Allan told the Sheriff you’re guilty. I guarantee the first thing that Randall did when he got home last night was to call up Rick Taylor and tell him all about it. That’s the way things work around here. You can say all you want about trial by jury, but once the system decides you’re guilty, that’s all she wrote.”

  He spread out his hand like a finish line.

  Like the end of Aidan’s life.

  “They’ll give you ROR or a low bail because they think you won’t go anywhere, but I’m telling you, if you don’t skip town right now, you’re going to spend the rest of your life in prison.”

  Aidan’s stomach contracted like he’d been sucker-punched. “I don’t know, Jeff, I mean… I’ll get a jury trial for sure. The judge can’t over-rule a jury trial.”

  “Think about it.” Jeff squeezed his shoulder. “We’ve got circumstantial evidence that you can’t disprove. There’s no other suspect, and it looks like your father suppressed evidence for years. Or at least didn’t follow due diligence. That looks like conspiracy.”

  Aidan tried to flex Jeff’s hand away, but it remained. Hot and sweaty and stymying, anchoring Jeff’s words in a way Aidan didn’t appreciate.

  “But I didn’t do it.”

  Jeff smiled. “I know that, and you know that. But can you prove it?”

  Aidan stepped out of Jeff’s grip and walked toward the courthouse. Jeff caught up and held Aidan’s arm like he was the one doing the escorting.

  “Just trust me,” Jeff whispered. “You need to run.”

  Aidan increased his pace, eager to get into the same room as his lawyer. He wasn’t certain he would tell her what had transpired in this hallway. But he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t, either. If the system was really rigged in this town, someone else would know about it. Wouldn’t they? It wouldn’t be obvious only to a lunk like Jeff Young.

  And if Allan VonBrandt was really running things around here, why hadn’t Aidan heard wind of this before? Had Allan always disliked him? Or was there some reason Allan had it out for him?

  Too many questions with no answers. And Aidan didn’t have time to entertain them all. He paused in front of the holding cell while Jeff fumbled with the keys. Quick footsteps sounded behind him, and he heard Allan VonBrandt’s voice.

  “Hold
on, Jeff. Sheriff wants us both there for the arraignment.”

  “Who’s manning the office?”

  “Willa is at the phone. She’ll flash us if anything happens.”

  Jeff’s mouth tightened and the door finally clicked. Aidan lowered his head, trying to stay off Allan’s radar.

  “I see you fed him already, too. That could have waited.”

  “He may not be coming back to the jail if they ROR him.”

  Allan laughed. “They’re not gonna ROR him. He’s a flight risk.”

  Jeff made strangled sounds and glanced at Aidan, but didn’t finish his thought. They entered the holding cell, and the bright smile of Yumi Croy greeted him. She had two file folders in her hands and looked down at Aidan’s handcuffs.

  “Those won’t be necessary,” she said, pointing to his hands. Jeff unlocked the handcuffs, and Aidan massaged his wrists. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been pulling against them during his conversation with Jeff until they were no longer on.

  “We’ll wait just outside while you consult with your lawyer,” Allan said in a clipped, quick voice. “The court is right through that door.” He pointed across the room. “We’ll take you in for arraignment and then back to the jail, through this cell.”

  “Not if I can help it,” Yumi said, grinning at Aidan. He wanted to smile back, but Allan’s stern face pinned him.

  “We’ll just see about that.” Allan closed the door, locking himself and Jeff in the hallway. Aidan sighed and sat in the metal chair across the table from his lawyer.

  She had on another power suit, dark grey with purple pinstripes, and a light purple silk top underneath. The skirt was smart, knee-length, and businesslike. She was not to be taken lightly.

  Aidan wanted to trust her, but after Jeff’s hallway confession, he wasn’t sure whom to trust any longer.

  Claire’s face came to mind, and he almost asked Yumi if she would be around. He still couldn’t believe what she had done for him, how she hadn’t backed down, even in the face of evidence that could have circumstantially pinned him to guilt.

  “This whole process will go rather quickly,” Yumi was saying. She flipped open the top file and produced another copy of the arrest warrant. “The prosecutor will outline the charges. You’ll enter your plea, and they’ll set bail.”

  “Ok.” Aidan nodded, everything in front of him blurred. He couldn’t read the words, even when she turned the document around to face him. This was all too surreal.

  “Here’s a copy of the charges, just so you know what they’re going to file.” She pointed to the words Homicide and First Degree, then down farther to another set of words explaining their reasons for bringing the charge. He could barely make anything out.

  “They’re filing two sets of charges today. Homicide charges, and then the Arson. Now, because you work at the firehouse and your father’s involvement will likely be under investigation, the prosecutor will try to encourage the judge to set bail. So we’ve arranged with the county for you to take an extended leave of absence,” she produced another document with the county seal at the top, “and promised that you won’t come within a hundred feet of the firehouse or the jail unless ordered by the court. This is all outlined in your request. I need you to sign this. Make it official.”

  “Ok.” He nodded again and signed with her offered pen.

  “That should help us make a good argument for ROR.” She closed the first file and opened the second. “This is a copy of Claire Milton’s statement and your sister’s statement regarding your community ties. They will both be present at the arraignment.”

  Aidan’s insides constricted like a snake had them in its coils. Claire. Poor Claire.

  Thank God she was here, but he still wished he could save her from having to go through this.

  Yumi continued. “The governor’s son is also present, although he likely won’t make a statement. Still, even his presence should help our case, whether he speaks or not.”

  “Did you arrange all of this?” Aidan’s voice was tentative. He didn’t know Yumi Croy, but she appeared to be a crackerjack attorney, and he would find some way to thank her for all she had done.

  He felt indebted.

  “I must admit I didn’t. Claire offered to do it all when she called me last night. She went to the county offices this morning before they opened, and I called in a couple of favors.” Yumi covered his hand with hers. “That woman is a keeper.”

  Aidan smiled, and a lump formed in his throat. She wasn’t his to keep, but yes, she was that.

  ***

  Claire sat on the opposite side of the courtroom from Marin Conley and her hoity-toity boyfriend. No, fiancé. She hadn’t voted for his mother and didn’t like him. But they’d agreed to show up for Aidan, and Marin had gladly written her statement. Legally, if he was released, Marin would be the one to take responsibility for him, and Claire was grateful.

  But it didn’t mean they had to sit together. Especially not after the cupcake fiasco. No matter what Aidan had said about talking his sister out of the cupcake, Claire knew better. She knew Marin Conley better than Aidan thought. Once she had her sights set on something, she locked on and she fought until the got it.

  That’s how she landed Mr. Snooty Pants Assface who had insisted on hiring private security to escort them into the courthouse and had worn an idiotic combo of sunglasses and hat to disguise himself. Like Somewhere had a press corps or some kind of paparazzi swarm that cared if he sat in the audience at a local courthouse to watch proceedings on a Tuesday morning.

  No one cared. But he insisted.

  When they called the court to order and opened the docket, a little thrill went through Claire’s body when they called Aidan’s name. A side door opened, and a giant, broad-shouldered man with light hair escorted Aidan into the courtroom. The same man from the day before who had been flanking the Sheriff.

  The judge rapped his gavel and opened the proceedings. Aidan stood next to Yumi, and the prosecutor stood. Everyone else sat with rapt attention. No doubt, they were not here about Aidan. There had to be other people going to court that day.

  Marin glanced over at Claire and smiled tightly. Aidan’s sister had opted for a business suit, similar to the one Yumi wore, and it seemed out of place in the audience. Even her fiancé, with his designer clothing, blended in more than she did.

  Knowing Marin, that was intentional. She was a heart-faced, wide-eyed, beautiful girl with an athletic build and strong features. Anyone in the room would have picked her out as Aidan’s sister. They had practically the same face, although Marin had more baby fat than her brother, but it only served to enhance her beauty.

  Still, she always looked too attentive. Like she was watching everything a bit too closely. Claire had always been a little intimidated by Marin’s double-Type A-ness. Claire much preferred to be behind the scenes, rather than on the catwalk.

  She’d rather design clothes than model them. Marin would have been a terrible designer. She needed the attention too much. Needed the camera to be on her too often.

  Of course, the camera loved her. That helped. Aidan had always said that if their father hadn’t been so obsessed with sports, Marin would have been a beauty queen.

  Aidan suddenly spoke and Claire’s attention woke up.

  “Not guilty, your honor.” He was leaning over the microphone, then went back to Yumi’s side.

  She may not get much about the court proceedings, but she understood those words. Not guilty.

  Yumi pulled out a file folder. “We’re offering statements about the defendant’s ties to the community. One from his sister.” Yumi gestured and Marin stood. Mr. Snooty Pants Assface pulled his hat down.

  Claire wanted to punch him right in the mouth.

  “We also have one from the victim’s sister.” The whole courthouse buzzed. A shutter clicked from far in the corner, and Claire froze.

  She hadn’t considered the fact that she would represent her family—and, subsequently, Ja
ne—in the courtroom. To the outsiders, she was equal to Jane. And everyone was undoubtedly noting their extreme resemblance for future reference.

  Claire also stood, her heart goose-stepping through her chest.

  “You are Claire Milton?” the judge asked, looking up from the presented paperwork.

  She cleared her throat. “I am, your honor.”

  “And you are vouching for the defendant’s ties to the community in defense of his being released to his own recognizance without bail. Do you understand that?”

  “I do.”

  “You know what that means?”

  “I do, your honor.”

  “Do you speak for your family?”

  The courtroom buzzed again. She wasn’t sure how to answer that. If the headline in the paper the next day was all about Aidan Conley’s murder trial and the family’s support, someone would call her mother. But if she claimed not to speak for the family, they might discount her statement.

  “I am the victim’s sister, that is true. And my statement was my own.”

  “So you do not speak for your family?”

  She sucked in a breath. “I did not feel the need to consult my family about the content of my statement regarding Aidan’s ties to the community, your honor. Aidan is a well-known member of the Fire and Rescue squad. He owns property here. He’s lived here his whole life. He did not flee after the fire, and he won’t flee today.”

  “The fact is, Miss Milton, the defendant is a well-known recluse. He is rarely seen outside of fire-related emergencies, shops in Spicewood, and doesn’t engage with the community at-large here in Somewhere.”

  Marin stood again, calling out, “My brother isn’t going to run. He owns his house, has very little money saved, and gives away almost as much as he spends. He may live on the edge of town, but he risks his neck every day for the residents of Long Rock County, and he’s not going anywhere.”

  Claire sat, praying her interrogation was finished, and was happy to yield the spotlight to Marin. She and the judge talked back and forth for a moment; Claire ignored them, focusing in on Aidan.