Firebreak: A Mystery

by Tricia Fields

  Doug shook his head. “We didn’t want to move anything until you came on scene.”

  “Good. Get on the other side and let’s move this couch directly back.”

  Doug and Ned lifted the couch up, moved it back about four feet, and set it down. All three looked down at the bare space under the couch, largely untouched by the fire. Sitting about five inches from where the bottom of the couch would have been was a plastic syringe. They all approached it at the same time and bent over to see that the needle was still attached.

  Ned looked at Josie. “Were either of the Nixes IV drug users?”

  “I don’t think so. Highly unlikely.”

  “What about the victim?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  “I have some pull with a toxicology lab up north,” Ned said. “I’m sorry you had such a wait getting a fire marshal out here. I’ll put a rush on the toxicology. I have a great lab I work with. They may be able to get us results in forty-eight hours if we’re lucky. We’ll hopefully know whether we’re looking at recreational drug use, or the method of death.”

  * * *

  When Josie arrived back at the office she found Otto just about to walk in. “You need a shower, Chief.”

  Josie looked down and noticed the black smudges on her uniform pants and shirt. “Think that comes out in the wash?” she asked.

  “Call Delores. No doubt she’ll have some vinegar remedy.”

  They both stepped into the building and sighed. The air-conditioning felt like heaven. Josie washed her arms and hands as best she could in the bathroom sink upstairs and met Otto at the conference table.

  “The fire marshal find anything new?”

  Josie summarized the marshal’s confirmation that the fire was set intentionally by a liquid accelerant, and the discovery of the syringe under the couch.

  Otto listened to Josie’s account and said, “We have two dead men, an arson, and a suicide that we’re not sure we believe.”

  “Brenda claims Billy won’t even take aspirin for a headache. She basically admitted to searching his luggage when they go on trips. She swears he didn’t have any pills with him in the hotel.”

  “Here’s another thing. While you were with the fire marshal today I tracked down the clerk at the liquor mart who was working the night Billy drank himself to death. He remembered Billy coming in at about eleven thirty and buying the whiskey.”

  “What did he say about Billy’s demeanor that night?” she asked.

  Otto shrugged. “He claimed Billy was normal. The clerk told me he was a fan of Billy’s so he asked him about the recording contract. Billy told him they were getting close to a deal. He even told the guy that if they got the deal he’d bring him a signed copy of the CD when it came out.”

  Josie frowned. “Doesn’t sound like a guy getting ready to go drink himself to death.”

  “I agree. Seems odd a guy would dash off a quick ‘I’ll be back’ note, leave his wife in a hotel room, then go buy enough whiskey and prescription drugs on the street corner to kill himself.”

  “Who would want both Ferris and Billy dead? Brenda would want Ferris dead, but not Billy. If you go the jealousy route, other bands might want Billy dead, but couldn’t care less about Ferris,” Josie said.

  Lou buzzed Josie on her desk phone. “Cowan’s on his way up to see you.”

  Josie grinned at Otto. “Cross your fingers. He wouldn’t drive over here without significant news.”

  They listened as Cowan slowly clumped his way up the wooden stairs to the office. He appeared in the doorway and took a deep breath before entering.

  “Good morning. I trust I’m not disturbing you too terribly with an unannounced visit?”

  “Come on in. Would you like coffee?” Josie asked.

  “Yes, please. Half cup. Cream and heavy sugar.”

  Cowan sat down with a sigh of relief and then got straight to the point.

  “First, OxyContin and Ambien both were present in Billy Nix’s bloodstream. Amounts will come later.”

  “Good,” Josie said. It was no surprise, but the confirmation was necessary.

  “Now, on to Ferris Sinclair. Dental records confirmed the burn victim is indeed Ferris. I also initiated an HIV antibody test which came back positive. To confirm, I used the more reliable Western blot test, which also came back positive. Ferris Sinclair was without a doubt HIV positive.”

  “Can you tell how much virus was in his body?” she asked, handing him his coffee.

  Cowan gave her a look like he didn’t understand the question.

  “I used to hear people refer to someone as having full-blown AIDS. Those people you could look at and know they had the virus. I want to know, can you tell if it would have been obvious to others that Ferris was HIV positive?”

  “Ah, I see. HIV is the virus that attacks a person’s immune system,” Cowan said. “A person can have HIV and show no outward symptoms. AIDS occurs when your immune system is severely compromised and it can take years to develop. It’s the final stage of the disease after the immune system is too weak to deal with all of the other infections. I believe what you’re asking is, was Ferris Sinclair’s immune system compromised to the point that others would know that he had the disease.”

  “That’s exactly what I want to know,” she said.

  “With the body as severely burned as it was, there’s no way at this time for me to know what kind of infections he might have been fighting. In short, I can’t answer your question.”

  Josie nodded, frustrated with the answer.

  “I’ll run the same tests on Billy Nix and let you know ASAP.”

  Otto seemed to be mulling the conversation over. He finally said, “Maybe Ferris came right out and told Billy. Maybe he thought it would buy him some sympathy. Get him more attention.”

  “Would a diagnosis of HIV give Billy Nix the motive to kill Ferris?” Cowan asked.

  “Maybe,” Josie said. “Trouble is, Billy was two hours away when the fire was started at his home. Billy didn’t kill Ferris, and neither did Brenda.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s troubling me,” Otto said. “It’s not the idea that Billy would commit suicide, but rather how he did it. If Brenda is right, and he didn’t have the pills with him, who brought them to him? If someone brought him a deadly combination of prescription pills, knowing that he was already drunk, then did Billy Nix commit suicide, or was he murdered?”

  “Ahhh.” Cowan took a sip of his coffee and smiled. “The conundrum. Is the gun seller who provides a man the gun that the man uses to murder his wife culpable?”

  “He is if the gun seller tells the guy to go home and kill his wife,” Josie said.

  “What about all the Internet sites that explain how to commit suicide? They provide instructions for how to end your life. If you follow those instructions and end your life, are the people on the Internet culpable in your murder?” Cowan smiled again, apparently enjoying the debate.

  Otto looked annoyed. “So what are you getting at? If someone gave Billy those pills and said take these, they’re culpable in his murder?”

  “I’m saying no such thing. I’m simply suggesting that you have a mess on your hands.”

  Otto stood and said, “Okay. Thanks for bringing the information, Cowan. It was much appreciated. We’re headed back to the crime scene.”

  Cowan took the cue and stood himself, taking several gulps to finish his coffee. Once he had left the office Josie gave Otto a look. “We’re going to the crime scene?”

  “I couldn’t take any more theorizing. We have a murder to solve. I just said that to get him out of here.”

  Josie grinned and walked to the whiteboard at the front of the office. “I don’t know why you have to give him such a hard time.”

  Otto ignored her comment. “What if we have two suicides? Ferris confesses to Billy and Brenda he’s HIV positive. Billy shuns him so he stays at their house and commits suicide.”

  “Who used the stun gun on him
then?”

  “Damn.”

  “Susan, the deputy from Presidio County, called Ferris promiscuous. Juan called him a whore dog, and Dave agreed. Maybe someone else found out Ferris had HIV and feared he infected them. That person could have killed him too.”

  Otto nodded. “But it had to be somebody who knew Billy and Brenda were leaving. Their house would have been the perfect place to commit murder. The murderer would have assumed it was in the line of fire so it would cover up any evidence. They lure Ferris to Billy’s place, stun him, and kill him.”

  “That means we’ve narrowed the killer down to someone who knew the Nixes. Who knew the inside of their house well enough to know there was a stun gun in a box in the bedroom.” Josie pointed a finger at Otto. “Know who was in their house just a few months ago? And told me he was at the Hell-Bent during the evacuation, so he knew when the Nixes left town?”

  Otto looked at her.

  “Mick Sinner.”

  * * *

  Josie and Otto hit the jackpot. In calling around to track down Mick, they discovered from Vicki that he was at the Hell-Bent practicing with the band for a performance later that night. Josie drove and Otto rode passenger. She followed two other cars down the road, both of which turned down the lane for the Hell-Bent. The parking lot was packed.

  “I bet there’s a hundred cars,” she said.

  “Since when does the Hell-Bent draw a crowd at ten on a Friday morning?” Otto said.

  They stepped inside and found a mass of people milling around the dance floor. Josie noticed pockets of people crying and hugging.

  “Oh, hell,” Josie said. “You know what this is? These people are here for Billy.”

  Most of the crowd was wearing blue jeans and cowboy boots but a few women wore dresses. Josie noticed Angela carrying a tray full of Budweiser over to a table surrounded by a dozen people. Grieving or not, she thought ten was a little early for a Bud.

  Above the low rumble of conversation they heard raised voices coming from the stage, where they could see Slim Jim and Mick Sinner facing each other in heated conversation. Otto motioned his head that way and Josie followed him.

  When they reached the stage they could see that Mick was holding a cable where he was apparently attempting to set up his sound system. Jim stood between Mick and the speaker and was yelling something that had to do with Billy. People milling around the dance floor were migrating that way to check out the argument. One of the patrons, wearing a cowboy hat and a black concert shirt that read BILLY AND THE OUTLAWS, yelled, “You tell him to get the hell off the stage, Slim. He oughta have more respect than that.”

  “This is bullshit!” someone else yelled.

  Josie followed Otto through a door to the left of the stage and walked out to stand between Slim Jim and Mick and the people on the dance floor so they could have a semiprivate conversation.

  “What’s going on, fellas?” Otto said.

  “This son of a bitch is up here about ready to do a sound check! These folks came out to pay respects to Billy. They’re hurting right now. We all are.” Slim Jim choked up and had to stop and take a deep breath. “We want a little respect.”

  Josie faced Mick. “We actually came out here this morning to talk with you. You mind if we go back to the dressing room for a minute?”

  He threw the cable he was holding onto the floor. “I got a job to do. I’m on the schedule this morning, and this is the only time I can make it today. I got people coming to town from Nashville to watch the band tonight.”

  “You aren’t playing tonight.” Slim Jim said the words through clenched teeth.

  “Like hell I won’t! I got a scout coming to hear the band. You know how hard it is to get someone from Nashville to travel all the way to West Texas? You had your break and you—”

  Slim Jim raised a fist and reared back. Otto raised his own hand and stepped directly in front of him. Slim kept his hand in the air for another moment and then dropped it to his side.

  Josie broke in. “Otto will talk this over with Hank. He’ll take into account Billy’s death and the schedule and what needs to be done for the crowd. He’s the owner here, not you guys. His decision stands.” The men stared each other down until Mick finally turned and walked back toward the dressing room. Josie took off after Mick and figured Slim Jim would follow Otto to take up his case with Hank.

  Josie entered the dressing room and was pleased to see the other two members of the Calloway Boys: bass player Craig Wells and drummer Tim Holton. She had arrested Craig for possession of marijuana about a year ago. He gave her a crooked smile and tipped his head at her, looking vaguely embarrassed. Craig was a stereotypical doper with heavy-lidded eyes, a lazy smile, and slow speech. He was also an awesome bass player who’d been asked to tour with several big-name stars, most recently Kenny Chesney. Craig had notoriously turned down the offers, claiming allegiance to the Calloway Boys.

  He sat on a tattered couch in the corner of the room with a binder and what looked like sheet music spread out on a large coffee table in front of him. Josie walked over and shook his hand and said hello.

  Josie knew the drummer, Tim Holton, fairly well. He was sitting on a chair next to Craig, playing his drumsticks on his thighs. She and Tim worked out at the high school gym in the evenings on roughly the same schedule. Josie had talked to him about applying for the evening dispatch job when the job opened up in a few months. He had seemed genuinely interested. In his midtwenties, Tim looked more like a clean-cut engineering student from Texas Tech than a drummer for a country band. He wore a pair of khaki pants and a shirt buttoned almost up to his neck. He smiled and said hello when Josie reached out her hand to him.

  She turned to see Mick standing in what appeared to be the kitchen area. Hideous kitchen cabinets from someone’s seventies kitchen remodel hung on the wall and a burnt-orange countertop ran the length of the wall and was cluttered with junk. The rest of the room appeared to be a jumbled mess of accumulated stuff from the various bands that played at the Hell-Bent.

  Josie said, “I appreciate you talking with me, Mick.”

  “You know what bullshit this is? Do you have any idea how much more talented our band is than Billy and the Outlaws ever thought of being?”

  “Dude,” Craig said. “He just died, man. Lighten up.”

  Mick turned on him. “We got a shot this weekend. Right? We might finally catch a break, and Billy screws us over again.”

  “Dude, seriously.”

  “I’m not kidding. Only Billy could orchestrate his death so perfectly as to screw me out of my chance to leave this little corner of hell.” He kicked a plastic chair and it clattered across the room as his band members exchanged looks that appeared to say, Here we go again.

  “When was the last time you were at Billy’s house?” Josie asked.

  He slowly turned around and tilted his head as if he’d not heard her correctly. “What did you say?”

  Josie repeated her question.

  He laughed, wide-eyed and openmouthed, looking at his band members like he couldn’t believe the question. Tim looked toward the door as if he was considering leaving.

  “I told you.” Mick said each word distinctly.

  “Look, Mick. I get you’re upset about your band not getting your big break, but being a smart-ass isn’t going to help anybody. Two men are dead. One man was murdered, the other committed suicide. I’m going to ask as many questions as I need in order to find out who killed Ferris Sinclair and why Billy decided he needed to end his life.”

  She had their attention. All three band members looked shocked, presumably at the news about Ferris.

  “What do you mean who killed Ferris?” Mick asked.

  “Ferris Sinclair was found murdered in Billy’s home.”

  “What the hell?” Mick said, barely whispering the words.

  “Now, please answer the question. When was the last time you were at Billy’s house?” she said.

  Mick’s glare softened somew
hat and the fists at his sides unclenched. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly before continuing. “Vicki and I delivered a couch there a while back.”

  “Give me a month.”

  He sighed as if frustrated with the question. “I don’t know. February, maybe March.”

  “So, not too long ago. Were the Nixes home when you delivered the couch?”

  He looked surprised. “I don’t remember. We deliver stuff all the time, all over the place.”

  “Think back to that day when you took the couch inside. Was Billy there to greet you, tell you where to put it?”

  “No, I don’t guess so. They just left the door unlocked for us.”

  “Did you look around?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  Josie noticed the other two band members staring intently at Mick, waiting for his answer.

  “No! We just dropped the couch off.”

  “You’re sure? Because Vicki might remember it differently.”

  “What the hell are you getting at?”

  “Did you look around the living room? Maybe look at the pictures on the wall, open up some boxes sitting on the end tables, check things out.”

  Mick evidently considered what Vicki might have to say, because his expression changed. He smiled, ready to laugh it off now. “Come on. You can’t help looking at somebody’s pictures hanging on the wall. That’s what they hang ’em up for. It’s not like I went room-to-room snooping through the house though.”

  “Did you open any boxes? Open any drawers in the living room? Look around the house?”

  He shrugged, made a face like, Yeah, no big deal.

  “Did you find anything?”

  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Did you find anything troubling? A gun or something that would make you worry about the Nixes? Maybe something in the living room that made you worry about things they’re into?”

  He gave her a look like he had no idea what she was talking about. “No. We were there like five minutes. You’re making this into something more than it was. We delivered a couch. That’s it.”

  “Have you been back since?”