by C. C. Coburn
“I don’t want to embarrass you by having to handcuff you, Carly. Will you come quietly?”
“No, she won’t!”
“Adam, stay out of this and let me do my job,” Matt growled. “Carly—”
But she was already climbing out of the bed and racing for the bathroom, wishing she hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning.
She stumbled into the room, gripped the sides of the hand basin and threw up. The spasms seemed to last forever as her stomach surrendered its contents, and tears sprang to her eyes. Mortified, she ran water into the basin, then reached blindly for a towel.
One was placed in her hand, and a damp cloth was applied to the back of her neck, settling her churning stomach and taking away the urge to be sick again.
“It’s okay,” she heard Adam’s soothing voice above the sound of the running water. “Hold on to me if you feel faint.”
Carly wanted to weep at his kindness.
He turned her gently toward him and wiped her face with another damp cloth.
“Rinse out your mouth and I’ll help you back to the room,” he told her.
Confused, grateful, Carly obeyed, splashing water over her face and using the towel Adam had handed her to dry herself. She must look a mess—she sure felt like one—but Adam’s dark eyes bored into hers, reassuring her and giving her the strength to return to the room where Matt waited to arrest her.
Arson?
Still shaky, she clutched Adam’s arm as he helped her into the chair beside the bed. He stood beside her, a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Is she okay?” Matt asked his brother, as if she were incapable of speaking for herself.
“I’m…” She cleared her throat. “I’m fine,” Carly said, gripping the arms of the chair. “But why on earth would you think I set that fire last night? My children were inside the apartment!” Her voice was shrill, but Carly didn’t care. Now that she felt better, she was getting downright mad at Matt and his ridiculous accusation.
Matt took a seat in the other chair. “There are a number of reasons, Carly. First and foremost, you’d locked the stable door, preventing any of us from getting in to save the children and the horses.”
Enraged, Carly sprang to her feet. “Kill my children! Are you insane? I didn’t go near that door! What gives you such a stupid idea?”
Matt didn’t flinch beneath her fury. “Sasha said you went out for a walk about ten minutes before the fire started.”
Feeling light-headed, she resumed her seat. “That’s correct. So?”
“You were the only person outside at the time. The rest of us were inside the house, talking to Adam. The kids were all upstairs in the apartment watching television. The ranch hands were in town for the night.”
“Matt, that doesn’t even make sense,” Adam said. “What evidence do you have that Carly set the fire?”
“At present, it’s mostly circumstantial. But in the past two years, Carly has been present at, or involved in, four sites that were the targets of arson attacks.”
“What about the dogs?” Adam asked. “You think Carly drugged them?”
Matt sighed. “I don’t know yet.” He paused. “I was starting to explain to you all last night that the sheriff’s department’s been investigating the fire in the apartment building.”
He turned to Carly to explain. “We have a national database into which we insert the names of fire victims and cross-reference links to other fires. It’s mostly set up to deal with insurance fraud, but in this instance, it flagged you on three occasions, Carly.” He glanced back at his brother. “Now four. However, I didn’t get to finish what I was saying last night because the stable bell started ringing and we all ran outside to find it on fire.”
Numb with shock, Carly could only sit there and listen to Matt. It was true; fire seemed to follow her everywhere.
Matt counted them off on his fingers. “The warehouse fire in San Diego that killed her husband. The firebombing of the Colorado Grand Hotel in Denver the night before it was due to open—”
“What the hell’s that got to do with Carly?”
Carly finally found her voice. “I was about to start work in their spa.”
Adam scowled at his brother. “Oh, come on, Matt! That’s got to be a coincidence.”
“Then there was the apartment building in town,” Matt went on relentlessly. “Last night it was the stables. Next time it could be the ranch house.”
“No! How can you think I’d do such a thing? How can you even think I’d hurt my children or anyone else?”
Matt shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “I don’t know, Carly. We’re also going to request a psychiatric assessment.”
“What the hell for?” Adam and Carly spoke at once.
For the first time since he’d walked into the room, Carly detected compassion in Matt’s eyes. “Because the court’s going to ask why a mother would put her children at mortal risk.”
“But I didn’t!”
“I don’t know anything much about psychiatric illnesses, Carly. Maybe you have some form of Munchausen’s syndrome by proxy?”
Carly shook her head. “I feel as if I’m trapped in some sort of terrible dream that I’m hoping to wake up from. But I suspect I’m already awake and this nightmare is my life.”
She got to her feet and said, “The sooner you arrest me and take me in for questioning, Matt, the better. I want to clear my name and help find the real arsonist.”
“Admirable, but you won’t be helping us do anything, Carly. You’ll be behind bars.”
“I have children! I can’t stay in jail! Who’ll look after them?”
“Arson is a very serious offence. The D.A. will be asking the judge for a very large bail amount.”
Carly slumped back in the chair. “Bail?” she muttered, staring at the floor. “I don’t have a cent to spare.” She stared up at Matt. “I realize you’re doing your job, Matt. But do you honestly think I’m an arsonist?”
Matt took his time answering. “I hope not, Carly. I want to believe you aren’t, but we’re talking about people’s lives here. Every time there’s been a fire, you haven’t had a viable alibi.”
“Oh, Matt.” Carly couldn’t restrain the disappointment in her voice. In the short while she’d known him, she’d gauged Matt to be rock-steady, not the type of person to believe in hearsay and coincidence. “What alibis?”
“You claimed you were out shopping when the warehouse in San Diego went up. Yet you couldn’t produce any receipts when asked.”
“I didn’t claim anything! I was shopping!”
“Let me finish please, Carly,” Matt said. “You left your children with a sitter at your home in Denver and went out. During your absence, the hotel was firebombed.
“You told investigators you were working at the day spa in Spruce Lake the day of the fire in the apartment building, yet records show you’d left there nearly an hour earlier.”
Carly opened her mouth to explain she’d gone grocery shopping, but Matt held up his hand.
“And last night, you conveniently went for a walk ten minutes before the fire broke out.”
Carly’s lips thinned. To think she’d liked Matt once upon a time. Now he was sounding like some sort of crazed, redneck law enforcer, ready to round up a posse and hang her from the highest tree!
“First, when Michael’s superintendent told me about the warehouse fire and…and that he was missing, I dropped everything and drove like a maniac to the scene of the fire.” She could feel her voice breaking at the memory. “So of course I didn’t have any sales receipts! Neither did I have the items I bought. They were dropped somewhere on the streets of San Diego. Check your records.
“Three days after the fire and my husband’s de
ath—” she paused to let him absorb that “—I was questioned by the authorities as to my whereabouts at the time of the fire. It was only then that I realized I didn’t have my wallet. Or my shopping. I’d driven straight to the scene, was told my husband had died and I collapsed. I was a basketcase for days afterward. People were coming and going, taking care of me and my children, so I hadn’t needed to buy any food, or anything else for that matter. Once I realized what I’d done, I reported my credit cards missing and applied for another driver’s license, ID and so on.” She looked at him pointedly. “There’ll be proof of that in the official records.”
Matt nodded, but Carly wasn’t sure he entirely believed her. “I was seven months pregnant, Matt. I was in so much shock, I nearly lost Charlie. The last thing I was worried about was some dumb shopping!”
Adam squeezed her shoulder and she reached for his hand, needing his touch. She smiled up at him, but Adam was glaring so hard at his brother, he missed it.
Carly returned her attention to Matt, determined to clear her name. “Second, yes, I’d left the children with a sitter while I went out to purchase some supplies in Denver. I’d be working during my older children’s school hours and wanted to make up some dinners to freeze, so I’d have time to help them with their homework when they got home.”
That sounded pretty thin even to her ears, yet it was exactly what she’d done.
“You moved to Spruce Lake within days of the Denver fire.”
“Yes! I needed a job, since I no longer had one in Denver. The owner of the building I was living in offered me an apartment in Spruce Lake at a discounted rate, since it was slated to be demolished next summer. I wanted to get away from the city, start over in a small town, someplace where people cared about one another. I found a part-time job at the day spa, and I liked living in that apartment building. The rent was affordable, the neighbors were wonderful. I love Spruce Lake and thought I had a future here. Why would I jeopardize such an opportunity by setting fire to my home?”
“That’s one of the things we’re hoping the psych evaluation will tell us.”
Too angry to protest, Carly could only close her eyes and shake her head. Eventually, she felt strong enough to open her eyes again and say, “I’ll come quietly, Matt. But please, no handcuffs.”
Chapter Thirteen
“I saw something moving outside and went to investigate,” Carly said.
Matt exchanged a look with Adam.
They were sitting in the interrogation room at the sheriff’s department in Spruce Lake. Carly’s lawyer, Mike Cochrane, was present, as was Adam—at her request.
“I was hardly going to alarm the kids and say I thought there was a prowler in the yard, was I?”
“And was there?”
“No, it turned out to be a fox.”
“What did you do then?”
“I walked away across the paddocks that are closest to the stables.”
“We found your footprints in the snow,” Matt confirmed.
“Then did you find the footprints of whoever set the fire?” Carly asked, hopeful.
Matt shook his head. “The snow around the stables was trampled. People have been walking all around that area, and it was impossible to distinguish one footprint from another.”
“Just my luck,” Carly muttered.
“So you walked away from the stables?”
“Yes, I slipped out the rear door, because I didn’t want any of you seeing me from the house.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. She held up her hand. “I didn’t want you seeing me and thinking I was snooping around, trying to listen in on the meeting Adam had called with his family. He’d made it seem so personal and acted pretty abrupt when he asked me to make myself scarce earlier in the day.”
“I’m sorry, Carly,” Adam said. “I hadn’t meant to sound like that when I talked to you, but I had a lot on my mind. I needed to confess something very personal to them first.”
“First?”
“I was going to tell you afterward.”
“You’re talking in riddles, Adam. Tell me what?”
“He’ll tell you later,” Matt interrupted. “Right now we need to get this interrogation over and done with.”
Carly dragged her eyes from Adam. “Okay, then let’s get it over and done with, so I can get back to my kids,” she snapped. She rarely snapped at anyone, but this farce had gone on long enough. “I had Sasha lock the apartment door from inside. Then I went out the back door of the stables. I left it unlatched so I could get back in that way. At no time did I lock the front stable doors.”
Matt nodded. “Go on.”
“I noticed the fox, realized that must’ve been what I’d seen, so I walked a little farther into the paddocks to get some fresh air.”
“There was a fox around and you kept on walking—away from the protection of the buildings?” Matt asked, incredulity dripping from his voice.
“I’m not afraid of foxes,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “And I’m pretty sure if there’d been a wolf pack nearby, I would’ve heard them.”
“That’s risky thinking,” Matt pointed out.
“I wasn’t intending to go far and, like I said, I wanted to get some fresh air,” Carly stated. It had been the secretive way the creature had moved that had caused her to investigate. Then she’d seen the fox and, knowing they move stealthily, she’d stopped worrying about a potential prowler.
She decided it was pointless to explain that to Matt again. “I was about to turn back when I heard the bell ringing,” she continued. “I saw that the stables were on fire and ran like hell. The horses were going crazy in their stalls, but right then I just wanted to get to my kids. Luckily Sasha and Nick had collected everyone and started downstairs. I met them at the bottom of the staircase.”
She glanced at Adam. “It was about then that I heard someone breaking down the front stable doors.” She paused. “I’d heard the noise when I first entered, but as I said, the only thing I focused on was getting to my children. Later I discovered that the sound of splintering wood was Adam breaking down the door with an ax.”
She paused again. “I remember something else.”
Everyone in the room leaned forward.
“Yes?” Matt prompted when she didn’t elaborate.
Carly held up her hand. “I’m trying to remember exactly when I realized this. Give me a few seconds.” She ran through the events of the evening, starting with the moment she’d first walked outside.
“I was in the paddock walking away from the house, when I realized the dogs weren’t barking and hadn’t barked while the fox was around. I know they do that when strangers or wildlife are close by because Megan warned me about it.”
She glanced over at Adam. “That’s the reason I turned back to the stables. I knew something was wrong. It was at that same moment that the bell began to ring.”
“But someone doped the dogs,” Adam said.
Carly nodded and turned to Matt. “But how did he get to the dogs to dope them in the first place without the dogs kicking up a fuss? I heard nothing while I was upstairs.”
“Because whoever doped them was probably familiar to them,” he said.
“And you’re assuming that was me?”
He shrugged. “Like I said, the ranch hands were in town, the rest of us were in the house. You were the only adult not accounted for.”
“Do you know how stupid and downright irrational that sounds?” Adam demanded of his brother.
“I can only go with the evidence.”
“Yes, all of it circumstantial!” Adam sprang to his feet and grabbed Carly’s hand. “Did it occur to you that it would be easy to dope a dog if you offered it a steak? The dogs were barking earlier, the
n they quieted. None of us went out to investigate!”
“He’s got a point, Matt,” Mike Cochrane said. “It wouldn’t be hard to coax a dog with some meat. They’d swallow it whole.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Adam said, pulling Carly to her feet.
Startled, Carly complied. She’d never had a truer champion. And right now, she’d rather be anywhere than here. Right now, she’d go wherever Adam wanted.
“Sit down!” Matt growled.
Carly glanced at Mike Cochrane and he nodded. Reluctantly, she resumed her seat. Even more reluctantly, she withdrew her hand from Adam’s grasp.
“Adam, I’d like you to leave the room,” Matt said, his voice low and threatening. “You’re confusing Carly and clouding the severity of the matter. She’s been charged with arson. In a few minutes we’re going over to the courthouse where the D.A. is waiting to arraign her. Unless Carly can raise a substantial amount of bail, she’ll be going to jail indefinitely.”
“I haven’t got any money for bail!”
“Then your children will be placed with protective services until your trial da—”
“No!” Carly cut him off. “How can you be so inhuman?” she demanded as tears filled her eyes.
Carly felt close to the breaking point. The past year and a half, after Michael’s death, had been a living hell. The fight for the insurance payout, the decision to move from San Diego to get away from the unwanted attentions of Jerry Ryan and the peripatetic lifestyle she’d been forced to live since then—everything was all piling up, drowning her. And now to be falsely accused of arson?
“Believe me, Carly, I’m not trying to be, but I have to remain impartial. This is how we treat people who commit a serious crime and who can’t pay the bail.”
“I’ll sell my house in San Diego!”
“I’m sorry, Carly, but posting a property bond is rarely done. So until you can sell your house, or post a bond through a bail agent—which, by the way, will cost you a minimum of ten percent of bail and in this case, it could be around fifty thousand dollars—you’ll be in jail. And your children will be taken from you.”
