Racy shook her head.
Leeann backed up, but kept her hands on Racy's arms. "Billy Joe or Justin?"
Her heart lurched. She again shook her head, then thought about the exterminator's visit. She told Leeann, who grabbed a passing firefighter and relayed the information.
"You don't think—"
Leeann shook her head, cutting her off. "No, you said the appointment was yesterday morning. I just wanted Murphy to know because of the chemicals involved."
"Do you think that's the reason?"
"I don't know, honey."
"How did…how did you know about this?"
"I was at the station about to get in my cruiser when Gage came zooming into the parking lot. He told me about the fire as he headed inside. To change I guess." Leeann bit down on her bottom lip. "He was still dressed in his tux from last night."
Racy's anger burned as hot as the fire. "What else did he tell you?"
"What?"
"Did he tell you about our fight? How badly I screwed up? But that I was actually trying to entice him up to my room?" She knew she was being unreasonable, but with everything happening she wasn't thinking straight. "Did he tell you how drunk I—?"
"Hey, you only had a few glasses of champagne."
"Not that kind of drunk. No, that's an easy drunk." Her voice shook as she paced in the already trampled snow. "No, I'm talking about being drunk on living in the moment, believing in the slightest chance of happily-ever-after."
Her hands balled into fists as her emotions turned raw. "About buying into the notion that good things are possible and that a person can climb out of the box life shoved them into—"
"Racy, you're not making any sense."
"No, she isn't."
She jumped at the sound of Gage's voice. Closing her eyes, she drew a deep breath through her nose, determined not to gag on the smoke. When she opened them and turned, he stood there, dressed in his usual garb of jeans, leather bomber jacket and off-white Stetson.
"Leeann, could you give us a moment, please?" he asked.
Her friend turned away from her boss. "You okay with that?"
Racy gave a quick jerk of her head.
"I'll see if Murphy has anything to report." She looked back at Gage, then left after he nodded in agreement.
"Let's get a bit farther from the fire, okay?"
Racy skirted away from his hand, refusing to be lulled by his soothing tone. Marching past a couple of trucks and Gage's Jeep, she finally stopped when they were near her car. "What?"
He glanced at the fire. "I know it looks bad—"
"Looks bad?" She thrust out her arm and pointed at the engulfed remains of her house. "It's gone! That was my way out. That was the collateral for my loan to buy The Blue Creek. You saw the paperwork! I want the Creek, I want it to be mine, but that's not going to happen now."
"Why?"
"Respect! I want respect. I want people in this town to look me in the eye when I walk down the street. I want people like Donna Pearson to know they can't come into my business and tell me how to run it."
She jabbed her chest with her thumb. "I wanted to prove it didn't matter who my father was, or how many times I was stupid enough to get married—or where I live—" She choked on her words. "Where I lived."
He moved closer, but she scurried back a few steps. She had to. She knew how to get through this. Alone.
"Racy, please, I can fix this. We can fix—"
She shook her head. "No, we can't."
"Tell me what I can do for you. I'll do anything."
"Anything?"
He put his hand over his heart. "You have my word."
It took only a minute for her to reach for the duffel bag in the front seat of her car. She came back and slapped a folded stack of papers to his chest.
"Sign this." Her voice was cold and lifeless. "Sign it and drop it off at the bar. I'll get it back to the lawyers."
Chapter Thirteen
A n aging furnace had destroyed Racy's dream. Gage sat at his desk and looked again at the county fire investigator's initial report that arrived two days after the fire was extinguished.
He'd taken it home and read it over day-old pizza and a beer. Details were still needed, but the area of origin for the fire was the twenty-year-old furnace in her basement.
And she didn't have homeowner's insurance.
He'd read that in the report, too. The house was paid off years ago, so it wasn't a requirement. Racy had told the investigator she'd let the insurance lapse in order to help pay for her college education. Her plans to use the property as a loan guarantee required insurance, and she had been days away from getting it reestablished.
He'd thought about calling her as soon as he'd read the report—hell, he'd thought about calling every moment since he'd watched her red Mustang head down the road, Leeann driving and Racy curled up in the passenger seat.
He knew she and Jack were staying with Leeann. She hadn't been at The Blue Creek, much less in town, since Saturday morning, and despite what she'd said, both at the inn and at the fire, he still loved her.
What was he going to do about it? He hadn't figured it out yet. But he'd signed the divorce papers and dropped them at the bar like she'd asked. He'd hated the sound of the pen as he'd scrawled his name across the last page, but for whatever reason, at this moment, this was what Racy needed from him.
And he'd promised.
But if she thought he would just walk away…
That wasn't going to happen. He couldn't do that any more than he could refuse to take his next breath.
"Hey, you got a minute?"
Startled, he looked up. His brother Garrett stood in the doorway. Gage checked the wall clock over the teen's head. "What are you doing here? It's just after noon."
"We had a half day at school." He switched his backpack from one shoulder to the other. His football letterman jacket hung open and a Duke University T-shirt peeked out.
"Can we talk?"
It was the first time his brother had approached him since the drag racing and bonfire incidents. The only other time they'd spoken in the last couple of weeks had consisted of Gage lecturing and Garrett protesting his innocence. Gage missed the lively debates they used to have over sports, or Garrett's devotion to hip-hop versus Gage's preference for classic rock and country music.
"Sure. Take a seat." He waved at the chair in front of his desk.
Garrett stepped inside, dropped his backpack to the floor and motioned to the door. "Ah, can I close this?"
Gage's internal radar went on full alert. Was his little brother here to confess more mischievous deeds before he heard about them through official channels? "Is it necessary?"
His brother jerked his head in a quick nod.
"Okay, go ahead."
Garrett shut the door and then slouched in the wooden chair on the other side of the desk. He seemed more interested in playing with his class ring than talking, so Gage waited.
"That sucks about what happened to Ms. Dillon's house," he finally said, looking up. "Gina says she's a real nice lady."
Gage hoped his surprise at his brother's words didn't show on his face. This was the last thing he'd expected Garrett to bring up. "Ah, yeah, it does…suck."
"She's at all the home games, ya know, helping with the refreshments 'cause The Blue Creek donates food and stuff," Garrett added. "She's really pretty, too—Racy…ah, Ms. Dillon, I mean. Some of the guys on the team think she's a total hottie. You know, in a cougar sort of way—"
"Garrett, is there a point to this?" The last thing he wanted to hear was the fantasies a bunch of high school boys had about his wife.
Correction. His soon-to-be ex-wife.
"Ah, yeah. Anyway, I heard you and mom talking about what caused the fire this morning when you stopped by for breakfast. It's being ruled an accident, right?"
"That's not public knowledge yet, but it looks that way."
Not that he was a hundred percent convinced, desp
ite what the report said.
"I didn't know if I should say anything." Garrett paused and let out a sigh. "It's probably gonna get my home confinement extended, but I thought—well, it might mean something."
He was talking in riddles. "What might?"
The kid squared his shoulders and pulled in a deep breath before releasing it with a rush of words. "On Saturday morning I snuck out and took Leenie Harden on a sunrise snowmobile ride."
Eileen Harden, the oldest of the mayor's three teenage daughters. Wonderful.
"How?"
"Huh?"
"I'm not even going to touch the fact that you're grounded, but where'd you get a snowmobile? Mine is locked up and the two at the house still aren't fixed."
"Oh, ah…we took her dad's."
Gage closed his eyes and tried to rub away the beginnings of a headache. "You stole it?"
"No! We borrowed it. Technically."
He dropped his hand to the desk and opened his eyes. "Technically?"
"Leenie had the key to their shed."
"Garrett, if you didn't have permission, that's steal—"
"Save the lecture until I'm done, okay? There's more."
Gage nodded and remained silent.
"So anyway, we took it out in the woods and ended up on a ridge that looks down on the highway. We stopped to wait for the sunrise. Leenie brought a blanket and some hot chocolate—"
"I really don't want to hear this."
"Give me a break, bro. We were dressed in snowsuits, boots, helmets and gloves. Do you know how hard it is to kiss a girl with a helmet on?"
"Not hard at all after you take the helmet off."
Garrett rolled his eyes. "Whatever. We were sitting there idling when the machine suddenly stopped. Leenie panicked, but I told her I could fix it. So I started poking around the engine and that's when we heard voices."
"Voices?"
"Yeah. Leenie really started to freak, so I told her I'd go see what was going on. I made my way up this small hill and at the top, I looked down and realized we were right over Racy Dillon's place."
His brother had Gage's full attention now. He and Racy had still been wrapped in each other's arms that early on Saturday morning. "What did you see?"
"Two men. They were carrying boxes up out of the basement, through the bulkhead, and loading them into a pickup truck. I think it was her brothers."
A hard knot formed in his stomach. "Why would you think that? What did the men look like?"
"Average height, but one was a bit taller and broader through the shoulders. The other looked heavier, all stomach. Both wore jeans, work boots, flannel shirts and ball caps."
Impressed, Gage wrote down his brother's descriptions. "That's very detailed."
"You always say the attention's in the details. Runs in the family, I guess."
He smiled. "Yeah, I guess so. But why do you think it was Billy Joe and Justin Dillon?"
"One of the men, the bigger one called the fatter one Billy. When the man popped his head out of the bulkhead his ball cap fell off. It was Billy Joe Dillon."
Gage's mind raced with questions. What the hell were Racy's brothers doing at her place, especially since both lived elsewhere? And what were they taking from her house at that time in the morning?
"Did you see what was in the boxes? How big were they?"
Garrett shook his head, hair falling into his eyes as he gestured with his hands. "I don't know, two feet by two feet?"
More note taking. "Did you get a look at the truck?"
"It was red I think, but it was filthy. It had a camper shell, black. I couldn't see inside."
"What about a license plate?"
"Darn, I never thought of that." Garrett ran his hand through his hair, pushing it off his face. "Sorry, bro."
"Hey, you did a good job bringing this to me." Gage looked up from the notebook. His brother's grin was so much like their dad's. "Anything else? Did they see you?"
"No, I don't think so. I was crouched behind a couple of fallen logs. They weren't really doing anything wrong, but I've heard the Dillon brothers don't have the best track record when it comes to being upstanding citizens, ya know?" He shrugged. "I guess instinct told me to stay out of sight."
"Then what?"
"Then I left. It had only been about ten minutes, but Leenie was alone. So I went back and luckily got the snowmobile going again and took her home. I was on the couch chowing on a bowl of cereal by eight o'clock."
The estimated ignition time of the fire. "Have you told anyone about this?"
He shook his head. "Like I said, I didn't really think about it until everyone was talking about the fire in school yesterday. I mean, it's their sister's house. Why would they do anything to her?"
Gage could think of numerous reasons and all of them illegal. He jammed the notebook in his shirt pocket and stood. "I want you to keep this to yourself for now. We're going to have to fill out some official paperwork on what you witnessed, but right now I need to do some checking."
He grabbed the fire report and walked around the desk as his brother rose, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. Gage reached for his jacket and Stetson, shoving the report in an inside pocket.
"Ah, Gage?"
He opened the door, then looked at his brother. "Yeah?"
"Am I in trouble for sneaking out?"
Gage paused for a moment before he answered. "I think we'll let this one slide."
"Cool." Relief showed in Garrett's wide smile. "Thanks."
"But I think you need to have a talk with the mayor."
He didn't wait for his brother's response. The widening of Garrett's eyes and the drop of his jaw told him it was the last thing he wanted to do. But he would. Gage would make sure of it.
He stopped at the front desk and described the pickup truck to Alison, asking her to run a check on anything that matched and report back only to him. He got in his Jeep, took a moment to double-check his weapon and headed for The Blue Creek.
Justin was the easiest of the brothers to start with. Gage hadn't been crazy about him working at the bar, but Racy had seemed confident he was on the road to redemption. Both he and Billy Joe had been quiet since that first night at Racy's.
A little too quiet.
He arrived a few minutes later, parked and went inside. Less than a dozen customers filled a few tables. Good. He walked past them all, nodding hello to a few, and sat in the last booth in the farthest corner, his back to the wall.
His gaze scanned the room again, and despite it being a part of his job, he was looking for Racy. She wasn't here. He pushed away his disappointment. It was probably for the best.
A couple of waitresses worked the tables. He was glad to see his sister wasn't one of them. Jackie, an assistant manager, was behind the bar. He caught her eye and waved. She gestured to the beer taps, but he shook his head. She brought over an ice water instead.
"Afternoon, Sheriff."
"Hey, Jackie, can I get a Blue Creek Burger and fries?"
"Sure." She leaned against the table. "Anything else?"
"Is Justin working?"
Her eyebrows rose, but she only nodded.
"Let him know I'd like to speak with him, when he gets a free moment."
"Will do."
Gage looked over his notes again, then waited. Ten minutes later, a plate of food dropped on the table with a clunk. A jar of ketchup and silverware wrapped in a napkin appeared next.
Justin stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. "You wanted to see me?"
Gage had figured he'd be the one to bring out his order once Jackie had told him who was looking for him. He squeezed a generous helping of ketchup on the plate. "Join me for a minute," he finally said.
"Is that a request or an order?"
"Whatever it takes to get you to sit."
Justin sighed, dropped his arms and slid into the booth. He automatically put both hands on the table. Fingers spread wide, the ones on his right hand tapped an off-b
eat cadence.
"Old habits die hard, huh?"
Justin looked at his hands, then met Gage's eyes again. "Some, I guess."
Gage mentally matched the broad shoulders and muscular build inside the dark T-shirt with Garrett's description. He'd already assessed the man was taller than average, but it was close enough. Then he noticed the small cuts and bruising on the left side of his face. "What happened?"
The Sheriff's Secret Wife Page 18
