by Brenda Novak
“About twenty feet from my window.”
“Did you recognize him?”
She clasped her hands in front of her. “I can’t say for sure. He was tall and slender, I know that.”
“What was he wearing?”
“Jeans and a black sweatshirt.”
“Did you see his face?”
“No, it was too deeply shadowed. He had the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up.”
“What was he doing?”
She lifted Dawson’s sweats so they wouldn’t drag as she walked over to the chair across from the couch. “Just standing there, staring at me,” she said as she perched on the edge of it.
“Did he come any closer? Yell anything? Make any gestures?”
“No. Once he saw me looking at him, he just turned, hopped the fence and ran down the alley.”
“What kind of shoes was he wearing?”
“I didn’t notice,” she replied. “I was so freaked out to have a man in my yard in the middle of the night, especially a man in a black hoodie, that I panicked and nearly screamed. I was just trying to get a grip and calm down when I smelled smoke and realized the house was on fire.”
“You’re convinced it was the man you saw who started the fire?”
“Who else could it be? The fire started on that side—the side where I’d also heard the rustling and banging.”
“I see.” He took a moment to jot that down. Then he said, “Do you have any known enemies? Anyone who might have a grudge against you or wish you harm?”
Again, Dawson could see her deliberating on whether or not to voice her suspicions, but habit—and fear—got in the way.
“She has no enemies,” Sly said, speaking for her. “Like I told you on the way over, I’d know if there was someone she didn’t get along with. Whoever set that fire has to be this guy right here.” He pointed at Dawson. “He’s the only thing that’s changed in this town over the past couple of weeks. And we already know what he’s capable of.”
Dawson wasn’t surprised by the accusation; he’d been anticipating it. Now that he was out of jail, he was the town bogeyman. Even Sadie had tried to keep him away from the fire, knowing he’d likely get blamed if someone saw him at the scene. “And what would be my motivation for that?” he asked calmly.
“Maybe you like her. Maybe letting her move out here under the guise of trying to help her is your way of getting her into your bed.”
Sadie started to say something, but Dawson overrode her. “Sadie’s my employee,” he said. “There’s nothing more between us.”
“Let’s face it,” Sly said. “You didn’t like the way I reacted to her working here, so you did it to get the best of me.”
Dawson chuckled at that. “Nice try. I admit I have no affinity for you. But this time I do have an airtight alibi. I was at the bar when the fire broke out and didn’t drive to Sadie’s until she called me. Several people saw me, one of whom was the bartender. I paid my bill after she called. The fire was already going by then.”
“No one’s accusing you,” Chief Thomas said. “Officer Harris is going through an emotional time right now, but he will behave more professionally in the future, right, Officer Harris?”
Sly’s nostrils flared, but his boss glared at him until he recited the desired answer. “Yes.”
“Because we don’t jump to conclusions,” Thomas explained, speaking mostly to Sly as if he were talking to a recalcitrant child. “We’re police officers, which means we investigate and go where the leads take us.”
“What if those leads take you to one of your own?” Dawson asked.
Sadie stiffened at his words. Dawson could sense her tension. But he kept his gaze riveted on Sly. If Sly could throw accusations around, so could he. Maybe it would get Sly to state what he’d been doing when the fire broke out—if he had a solid alibi.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sly jumped to his feet.
“I had nothing to gain by burning Sadie out,” Dawson replied. “You, on the other hand, have been trying desperately to get her to come back to you.”
“How dare you!” Sly charged toward him, but once again Chief Thomas intercepted by jumping up and grabbing the back of his shirt.
“If you value your job, you’ll sit down and shut up!” he snapped. “I only brought you here out of respect for your connection to Sadie. So if you can’t control your temper, I’ll send you to the car, and you can wait there until I come fire your ass. Do you understand?”
Sly’s face flushed red. It galled him to take a dressing-down in their presence. He knew how powerless it made him look, and being perceived as powerful and important, being admired, was what he loved most. Dawson didn’t know him well, but he was willing to bet on that.
“I won’t stand for you, of all people, to ruin my life,” he growled to Dawson and stomped out and slammed the door.
“Forgive Officer Harris,” Chief Thomas said. “He’s an...impassioned person, but he means well.”
“Does he?” Dawson challenged.
Chief Thomas looked him up and down. “He’s never been tried for murder.”
“Well, if you do your job, he’ll soon be tried for arson,” Dawson said. “Or, since two people were in that house when he set the blaze, I’m thinking the charge could be attempted murder, which isn’t too far off.”
Thomas dropped the feigned politeness he’d exhibited so far. “You’d better watch yourself, son,” he said. “I don’t take accusations against my officers lightly.”
“He’s not the one making the accusation,” Sadie said. “I am.”
Thomas studied her more carefully. “You need to be careful, too, Sadie. You’re talking about your husband.”
Her chest lifted as she drew a deep breath. “I’m talking about my ex-husband, the person who’s been stalking me for months.”
There was a moment of silence. Then Chief Thomas said, “If he’s been stalking you for months, why is this the first time I’ve heard about it?”
“I was afraid of what he might do if I reported him. The divorce isn’t final. We’re still fighting over money and custody issues. I knew lodging a complaint against him would only make matters worse. So I tried to convince myself that if I could keep the peace long enough, we’d eventually wade through the divorce and he’d move on, find someone else. I never dreamed the opposite would occur. That he’d only get more fixated on me. That the behavior would escalate. That he’d go so far as to burn me out of my house!”
“These are serious allegations,” Thomas said. “Are you sure you want to make them?”
“I have a little boy to protect, and I may have lost everything I own tonight. I don’t need any more trouble, so I don’t do this lightly. I’m afraid of Sly, Chief Thomas. I need you to know that. I’m not saying I know he’s guilty of setting my house on fire. But I am saying my gut tells me he did it, so please don’t let him be the one to investigate.”
Chief Thomas rubbed his chin for several seconds before responding. “This puts me in a very difficult situation.”
“Because you’re his boss?”
“That and I can’t believe he’d ever go so far as to commit arson. Sure, he acted up a bit tonight. But it’s killing him to lose you. And he’s worried. He feels as if his wife and son are out here alone with a man who hacked his own parents to death. How do you expect him to react?”
Sadie seemed so weary when she answered. “As I keep saying, I’m his ex-wife. That means I can stay where I want. And if he really cared about his son, he’d—” she caught herself and finished with what Dawson figured was a broader statement than she’d originally intended ”—treat us both differently.”
The police chief studied her. “It’s been a hell of a night.”
“That’s why I’m hoping you’ll honor this o
ne request,” she said.
“Dawson has an ax to grind when it comes to the department,” Thomas said. “You realize that.”
“I do. But from what I’ve seen, he’s got good reason.”
The police chief stiffened. “That won’t help, teaming up with a suspected murderer against all the rest of us law-abiding citizens. Now you’re giving Sly some credibility.”
“I have a right to my opinion. Dawson was found innocent. That means, in the eyes of the law, he has the same rights as the rest of us. I think it’s time we consider him innocent until proven guilty.”
“Fine. I’ll put someone else on it,” Thomas snapped and stalked out.
Dawson shoved his hands into his pockets as Sadie closed the door. “Do you think whoever he asks to investigate the fire will be impartial enough to do a decent job?”
“I doubt it. Sly is friends with everyone on the force. He’ll be doing everything he can to poison the minds of those working the case. And let’s face it—even if that weren’t true, the police would rather villainize you than him.”
She seemed so wiped out Dawson couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. He understood that kind of weariness; he’d experienced it. “You shouldn’t have sided with me.”
When she said nothing, simply moved to the window and looked out, presumably at the taillights of the squad car Chief Thomas and Sly were in, Dawson added, “So why’d you do it?”
“I believe you’re innocent,” she said without turning. “That means I had to say it. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t?”
“That’s not a popular position here in Silver Springs.”
Closing her eyes, she pressed her forehead to the glass. “Oh well.” She straightened again. “Sometimes, the truth is just the truth.”
He wished he could touch her. He’d had plenty of sexual thoughts where she was concerned, but this was more about comfort. “If Sly set that fire, he could be capable of almost anything. So if it makes any difference, I think you did the right thing telling Thomas about him.”
“Except it might push him further.”
“Or it might be the only thing that keeps him in check.”
She sighed. “I hope it goes that way, but I don’t think it will. I’m pretty sure I just started World War III.”
And she had a child to protect. The odds were stacked against her. But Dawson wasn’t going to let Sly get the best of her, not if he could help it. “Like I said, you can stay here until you get on your feet.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, but he could tell her thoughts were a million miles away. Was she psyching herself up for the battle ahead? Or was she remembering past times when taking a stand had only made her situation worse?
Putting his arm around her, he gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. He didn’t want her to think he was hitting on her; he just didn’t want her to feel so alone. But he wasn’t even sure she noticed. She didn’t react to his touch. She just stood there staring out at the darkness.
15
When Sadie woke up, Jayden wasn’t in bed with her. Her chest tightened in panic as she sat up and looked around. How was it that she hadn’t felt him get up? Where had he gone? They were no longer in their little house with the small, fenced yard and Maude puttering about outside. They were on a large piece of land—especially from his perspective—and that piece of land had lots of places to get hurt or lost. It even had a pond.
The instant terror tempted her to call his name, but she held off in case Dawson was still sleeping. As late as they’d both gone to bed, he should be sleeping. The clock on the nightstand indicated it was only nine-thirty. That wasn’t too late, considering it had been almost five when Sly and Chief Thomas left. No wonder she hadn’t felt her son slip away. She’d been passed out from exhaustion.
Without so much as a thought for her tangled hair, she scrambled out of bed and hurried past Dawson’s room, pausing only long enough, once she saw his door standing open, to see that he wasn’t in there. She was halfway down the stairs when she heard Dawson talking in a low whisper. “You want more cereal?”
“More chocolate milk!” Jayden’s eager enthusiasm made his voice much louder.
“Shh!” Dawson said. “We’re trying to let Mom sleep, remember?”
Sadie reached the ground floor as Dawson poured her son more chocolate milk. “It’s okay. I’m up.”
“Look, Mommy! We have cold cereal!” Jayden cried.
“Where did we get that?” She was the one who’d bought the groceries so far, and she hadn’t purchased any processed cereal. Dawson had never mentioned that he wanted some, and she rarely let Jayden eat that kind of thing. The carton of chocolate milk Dawson put back on the table was new, too.
“We went to the store!” Jayden held up a sucker. “And I got this!”
“For later,” Dawson quickly inserted. “After lunch or dinner. We talked about that, remember?”
Jayden didn’t seem pleased about waiting, but he set the sucker reverently by his plate. “Yeah.”
A grin tugged at Dawson’s lips. “I wish everyone was so easy to please that a sucker would make all the difference,” he said in an aside to her. “My sister’s like that.”
“Children are so innocent. She sounds the same. I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
“She’s definitely innocent.” He gestured at the chair next to Jayden. “Want to sit down and have some cereal?”
Sadie almost said no. She doubted she could eat even if she tried. Her stomach hurt every time she thought about last night—the fire, whether or not she’d have anything left once the police allowed her to go back in, Sly’s behavior when he came out to the farm with Chief Thomas. Everything she’d tried to avoid with him seemed to be happening, despite her efforts. But Dawson had turned what could’ve been a confusing and sad morning into a happy one for Jayden, and she didn’t want to spoil her son’s fun. “Sure. I’ll have a bowl.”
Dawson slid the box and the milk over to her. “You okay?” he murmured while Jayden was busy pretending his spoon was a rocket ship blasting off from his bowl.
“Yeah. I think so.”
“You didn’t get much sleep.”
She covered a yawn. “Neither did you. And then you got up with my kid. I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize he’d climbed out of bed.”
“I had those guys coming to clear away all the junk and take it to the dump this morning, so I had to get up early. I couldn’t miss them.”
“So that pile of stuff that was in the yard is gone?”
“It is.”
She crossed to the window to check. Sure enough, all the broken furniture and other things Dawson had thrown out were no longer cluttering up the place. Somehow that helped, was yet another thing from the past that’d been squared away. “Looks great. It’ll be nice to have it gone, but I’m sorry you didn’t get to sleep in, like I did.”
“They were so loud I’m surprised they didn’t wake you. Jayden certainly enjoyed watching the process.”
“I feel bad you got stuck babysitting for me.”
“I didn’t mind, so don’t worry about it. I hope it’s okay that I took him to the store. I would’ve asked, but I hated to wake you, and I didn’t dare leave him here alone while you were sleeping. I haven’t been around him much—haven’t been around kids in general—so I have no idea how far he might wander.”
“I appreciate you being cautious, especially with the pond out back. But wake me if something like this ever happens again. I don’t expect you to take care of my child.”
“I wouldn’t mind helping now and then.”
She took a bite of cereal but couldn’t even taste it. “I wonder what the police will find out about the fire,” she said when she’d swallowed.
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up too much.”
/>
She gripped her spoon that much tighter. “Why not?”
He glanced at Jayden, who was still making motor sounds with his mouth and pretending to send his spoon to “outer space.”
“If it was who we think it was, I’m sure he was careful not to leave a trail.”
She stirred her cereal around in the milk, trying to gain enough enthusiasm to take another bite. “He’s smart,” she agreed. “I doubt he would’ve done something like that unless he was sure he could get away with it.”
“Exactly. Then there’re the other factors—that he could possibly sway whoever investigates or tamper with the evidence. I wouldn’t set my sights on getting some resolution for fear you’ll only be disappointed. But we can hope that the fire was put out before you lost too much. What I heard last night made that sound like a real possibility.”
“Yeah. I don’t know how I’ll replace what has been lost, so I’m praying it wasn’t a lot.”
He seemed to notice that she wasn’t particularly interested in her food. “Try not to worry, okay? It won’t help.”
“Then we should stay busy. Are we going to work in the fields today?”
“With Jayden?”
“He’ll just play close by. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“No, you stay inside. Maybe you can both have a nap later. I’ll take care of the fields. But I’m not going to work until afternoon. Last night Gage Pond, the bartender at The Blue Suede Shoe, told me a vagrant matching the description of the hitchhiker I picked up a year ago was spotted the same night by a man building a bunker for Alex Hardy.”
“What man?”
“He didn’t get a name—or can’t remember it if he did. Do you know Alex?”
“I do. He comes into the restaurant all the time.”
“What’s he like?”
“He’s about thirty-five. Shaves his head. Wears camouflage. Collects guns. Talks about buying junk silver and stocking up on ammo and food. Brags that he could survive on his property for a year even if the rest of civilization went to hell in a handbasket.”
“He married?”
