“What about Wilson?” We were referring to Lisa’s golden retriever. He was the nicest dog I had ever met.
“They killed him!” Lisa started to cry.
Truth was that when I heard the reason that Lisa was so upset was due to a dead dog, I was relieved. Does that make me a bad person? I loved dogs but I loved my best friend more. At least nothing had happened to her.
“Someone killed Wilson?” I leaned in and hugged my best friend. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry.” We separated and I asked, “How? When?”
Lisa wiped her eyes and nose. She took a moment to regain her composure the best she could. “I was at physical therapy, working on my back. My parents came to pick me up. I wanted to just go back to my apartment but they insisted. You know how my folks can be.”
I forced a smile and the hint of a nod.
Lisa continued. “Anyway, they took me to our house. And when we got there the lights were out…”
I don’t remember every word Lisa said that night. Her story was long and my memory was good but not supernatural. But I can summarize what she told me had happened.
The Williams family arrived back at their house to find power out. Lisa’s dad, Mr. Williams, went out to the garage to check the fuse box while his wife and daughter were inside.
There was a smell inside that reminded Lisa of rotting meat and rancid milk. Signs of a break-in were everywhere. One of the windows in their living room was shattered. It looked as if someone had gone through every drawer and closet.
Mr. Williams figured out what was wrong. Someone had physically removed several of the fuses. Before he knew it, the sixty-eight year old man was struck from behind. I later learned he was at the same hospital where Lisa was receiving her physical therapy, for stitches.
Inside the house, Lisa and her mom looked for any flashlights. At some point, they separated. Lisa was downstairs and her mom went out to find her husband who wasn’t answering his phone.
Lisa said she felt like she wasn’t alone in the house. She’d heard things like footsteps or wood creaking. It wasn’t until she saw a shadow dart from her living room to her dining room that she got scared.
The Williams residence had a balcony on the second floor that loomed over the vestibule. Before Lisa could get out the front door to join her parents, she heard a wet thud. Having not found any flashlights, Lisa used the flash on her phone’s camera.
“…and, see for yourself,” Lisa handed me her phone. I took it. There was a picture of her dog, Wilson, dead. It appeared that he had been beaten to death. I had really liked that pup.
“Who the hell would do something like that?” Loretta was disgusted. The question was rhetorical.
“Is your dad all right?” I asked.
“He’s over at Saint Mercy’s. It’s nothing serious, thank God. They’re going to give him some stitches. That’s about it.”
“And your mom?”
“She’s there with him.”
I stood up. Without breaking eye contact with Lisa, I asked, “Do you need somewhere to stay tonight. You shouldn’t be alone.”
“Thanks, Riley, but I don’t know. I think I’m gonna stay here. It’s probably safer. You should stay here too. Sam thinks the guys who did this are the same ones who attacked us at your office.”
“Why does he think that?”
I hadn’t heard Sam walk up behind me. “They left this behind.” He dropped a white plastic rabbit mask on Loretta’s desk. “Looks like someone out there doesn’t want to forgive and forget.”
Heresy
I ended up spending the night with Lisa at the Stone Harbor Police Station. The following morning, I went home and slept through the day. Lisa and her parents returned to their house with police protection.
When I woke up, it was night time, and I had several missed calls. Most of them were from Lisa. One was from Richard Greyson. I decided to call my surrogate father back first.
Richard wanted to double check that I was going to go to the Fourth of July barbeque. Pastor Pritchard would hold one annually at his church. The whole Greyson family would go. Samantha would show up, too.
I confirmed that I was going to attend the barbeque. Then I called Lisa. She wanted to hang out. Admittedly, going over to her house creeped me out just a little bit. But I told her I was willing and said I’d be right over.
Before leaving my apartment in Briar Gardens, I made sure to retrieve my .38 revolver. If Sam was right, there were still people out there who wanted to cause me harm. Killing Lisa’s dog was a pretty clear message. I wasn’t going to be caught unprepared. If they came for me, I’d be ready.
It was a warm summer night. I didn’t get to enjoy it, though. My head was on a swivel. Every little movement caught out of the corners of my eyes was a potential threat. Each sound I heard raised my heart rate. Thankfully, the walk from my apartment to my car was short.
As I pulled out of the Briar Gardens parking lot, I decided to stop at the liquor store before getting to the Williams household. I needed to get something to take the edge off. Chances were Lisa would agree with me.
There were no liquor stores in Stone Harbor. I had to go to nearby Saluda. Saluda Liquors was right across the street from the Side Car Diner. I purchased a bottle of orange-flavored vodka.
The drive from Saluda to Lisa’s house wasn’t far. It took me a little over ten minutes. But I never made it there. Minutes away from the house, I was sidetracked. I could see smoke rising into the air. It was a plume of grey against the black night sky. Where was it coming from? The answer came swiftly.
It was Pastor Pritchard’s church. Surrounded by cop cars and a fire truck, the old wooden building was fully engulfed in flames. A strong wind carried the unmistakable smell of fire and glowing embers.
Someone stepped out in front of my car and made me stop. My headlights revealed that someone to be Detective Sam Greyson. He motioned for me to pull over across the street.
“When did this happen?” I asked as I got out of my car.
“About ten minutes ago. We got a call from the neighbors. The church just suddenly went up in flames.” Sam walked with me, towards the fire.
“Nobody saw or heard anything?”
“Not a thing. From what we were told the church was fine one minute, and the next it was burning.”
“The pastor?” We stopped just far away enough to stay safe, but close enough that I could still feel the intense heat.
“I called him as soon as we got here. He’s on his way.”
I felt bad for Pastor Pritchard. The church was his whole world. He had only just moved from the apartment on its second floor a year earlier. Who would do such a thing? Or, maybe it wasn’t a work of malice.
Fires could be caused by a great many of causes. One of the most common was electrical malfunction. Frayed wires or shorts produced sparks that could lead to infernos. Perhaps a candle had been accidently kept lit. A breeze or a mouse could’ve knocked it over. Or the fire could have been the work of people or a person.
“Do you have any idea of what caused this?” I asked, pointing to the burning church.
“This isn’t exactly my area of expertise. It would help if we had a fire marshal in this town. But since we don’t…”
“It falls in your lap.”
Sam nodded. “I’m only one man. And as important as finding out what happened here is, I have other responsibilities as well.”
I knew Sam would have a hard time asking. He was that stubborn sort of man who refused to admit that he needed help. So, I decided to relieve him of that hardship. “I’ll help. It’ll be my number one priority.”
A station wagon came speeding down the street. It came to a screeching halt, just short of hitting a police cruiser. Pastor Pritchard got out. He was clearly very upset. I’d never seen him so angry and sad.
Sam and I both tried to comfort him. We offered words meant to calm and reassure, but nothing had much of an impact. Fate seemed so cruel to hand such a good man that disast
er. I remember feeling very bad for Pastor Pritchard.
When I got back to my car, the vodka I bought earlier in the night was still in my passenger seat. Spending the night drinking with Lisa didn’t sound quite as fun as it had before. Then again, if I went home I’d just obsess over the fire and Pastor Pritchard. My next stop was Lisa’s place.
Comfort
There is something to be said about the comfort of familiar things. For me, that comfort was in the booths of the Side Car Diner. That comfort was in the food and the staff. There, I felt all of my nerves eased. There, I could think with a clear mind.
I had a significant amount of thinking to do. There were people after me. Their identities were unknown, as were their reasons for wanting me dead. There was an arsonist on the loose in Stone Harbor. Although I didn’t have any evidence that the church was burned on purpose, I had a gut feeling. And lastly, there was the issue of my parents, which was never far from my thoughts.
“Long night?” Carol, the waitress, was standing next to my table. She refilled my coffee.
“Something like that. Thank you.”
“What can I get you?”
“I think this morning calls for waffles.”
Carol smiled. “Waffles it is.”
I stared out the windows as I waited. It was a lovely summer morning. Through the glass and over the noise of the restaurant, I could hear the birds chirping. The warmth of the sun leaked onto my booth.
Carol came back with a plate full of warm waffles. I covered them in butter and syrup. Each soft and sweet bite made my worries melt away.
I had a busy day ahead of me. Pastor Pritchard’s barbeque had been cancelled, for obvious reasons, but Richard decided to have one at his house. Sam wanted me take a look at the site of what used to be the church. It seemed best to do the work first, and then I’d stop by the Greyson’s.
Independence Day
The Fourth of July in Stone Harbor was a big deal. It may have been a small town but everyone in it still made a big effort. The end result was very festive. Decorations could be found all over the place. People put up banners and streamers, turning everything red, white and blue.
At night, there were multiple private fireworks displays. They were illegal but lit anyway. Partiers could be found all over the town, drunk and sometimes disorderly. Independence Day was not my favorite holiday, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Before attending the barbeque at Richard’s house, I had to stop by the burnt remains of the church. I had promised Sam I’d take a look. Even though he didn’t formally hire me to look into the cause of the fire, I agreed in principle.
When I pulled up to the church, my heart sank. I used to go there as a kid. I used to take bible study classes in its basement. It was an institution in Stone Harbor. And it had been reduced to its smoldering foundations.
Even though I had been there the night before, seeing the site in the harsh light of day was a whole different story. The flames had been extinguished and all that was left was charred wood and ash. It smelled like a fireplace.
I got out of my car and started walking the grounds. There are some specific clues you could look for in order to determine if a fire was the result of arson or accident. My forensics teacher spent a whole week on arson at George Mason College. Luckily, I remembered most of it.
Every fire had three common elements. Fire needs oxygen, heat and a fuel source. Oxygen was the easiest element to obtain since it was in the air around us. A fuel had to be a flammable or combustible substance. Most arsonists used fuels that were easy to obtain such as gasoline, high proof alcohol or propane. And lastly, your igniter had to be up to the task of reaching the ignition temperature of the fuel.
I walked around the remains of the church. What I wanted to figure out first was where the fire started, so I dug out the stairway to the basement.
Some arsonists started their fires underneath a structure. That way the fire burned upwards, providing a more reliable and destructive blaze. But I found the basement intact. There were no signs that flames even touched it. So I ruled that out.
When I went back upstairs, I started a more thorough search. I didn’t have a dog with me or access to a lab, so detecting the presence of accelerants beyond gasoline was hard. There wasn’t any broken glass beyond the churches windows. There were no visible remnants of a bomb.
For a good hour and a half, I scoured the remains of Pritchard’s church. It was showing signs of being unsolvable, at least with my resources. Then something caught my eye.
There was a warped piece of what appeared to be piping. It most likely had carried water or waste. That got my attention because in building or house fires it typically didn’t get hot enough to melt metal. And those pipes looked like butter stuck out in the sun.
I took dozens of pictures of the scene with my cell phone camera. Satisfied that I had done all I could, I got back in my car. Next stop was Richard’s house.
When I arrived at the Greyson’s house, I had trouble finding parking. Everyone must’ve been already there. And as per usual, I was late. I ended up parking a block away.
No one was outside the front of the periwinkle blue house. But I could hear people in the back. They got louder as I got closer. I waited outside the front door for awhile, without knocking or ringing the doorbell.
“Heeey, Riley, where have you been?” greeted a drunk Amy Paxton. She was a recent hire at the Stone Harbor Police, but I’d known her since high school. From the looks of her, she’d been drinking since at least noon.
“Hey, Amy. Is Richard around?” I returned Amy’s greeting with a hug then tried my best to disengage.
Amy first pointed out front. Then she pointed upstairs, then to the backyard. “I think he’s out there.”
I smiled and nodded at the young police officer. The back door was open. That’s where I headed.
My mouth was watering from the smell of cooking ribs. I cannot properly explain to you in the written word how amazing that aroma was. When I opened the back door it hit my senses like a freight train.
The small backyard was completely full. I recognized everybody. Live in a town as small as Stone Harbor and nobody would be a stranger. Though, I was surprised to see Pastor Pritchard there. And I was even more surprised to see that he didn’t look very upset. When I had seen him the night before, he was a complete wreck. It was amazing what a good night’s sleep, or something else, could accomplish.
“Pastor?” I walked up to Pritchard. The investigator in me couldn’t let it go.
“Riley, how are you child?” Pastor Pritchard turned away from the small group of people he was talking to.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Pastor Pritchard looked down at the grass, then back up at me. I could feel the uncomfortable tension. “I’m doing fine, all things considered. My insurance company is going to cover the damages. They can’t replace what that church meant and still means to me. But I can build again. It’s not the end. So, instead of staying home and feeling sorry for myself, I decided to take your dad up on his offer.”
“To come here?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, I’m glad you could make it.” I hugged the pastor. But I didn’t believe everything that he had told me. Parts of it could be true.
“Riley!” A tall, lean, handsome man called to me from across the yard. It was Sam Greyson.
I walked over to Sam who was with his two kids, Rich and Jenny. They flanked him on either side. Standing across from him was his ex-wife, Samantha. All of them except for Samantha smiled when they saw me. The kids even ran up and hugged me.
“Auntie Riley!” the kids said, almost in unison.
“Where have you been? It’s like…” Sam checked his watch. I swear he was one of the last people alive who still used such a relic. “It’s almost four.”
I kneeled over and grabbed a beer from a nearby cooler. As I opened the bottle, I explained myself. “I was at the church, or w
hat was left of it.”
“Find anything interesting?”
I took a swig of the cheap booze before answering. Samantha rolled her eyes at me. I let it go. “Not really. I don’t have the means to look past what I saw with my own eyes. And there wasn’t much to see.”
Why didn’t I tell him about the melted metal? To this day I’m not entirely sure. I guess I wanted to prove that I could do it on my own.
“That’s too bad. Well, keep on it and I’ll do the same. Enough about work, though. This is a party. Let’s have some fun.” Right then and there I knew I was in trouble. Sam had been drinking, too. And when he drank, he started to flirt. All that could lead to was uncomfortable situations.
Jamie Garrett - Riley Reid 02 - Fire and Lies Page 2
