by Jessica Beck
“Three of our suspects,” Jake chimed in, correcting me.
“I still don’t think Curtis Mason is a viable candidate for a counterfeiter,” I said.
“I’m not saying he’s my top choice, but he’s been around an awful lot, sticking his nose into things. We have to consider the possibility that maybe he’s more than just a nosy neighbor.”
“Are you seriously considering Curtis?” Phillip asked. After a moment, he nodded. “Yes, I can see that. What if he’s been putting on a friendly act solely to get close enough to find out what we’re up to? It makes sense.”
“Who are your other two suspects?” Momma asked.
“We’re beginning to think that Lionel Henderson III may have had something to do with it. Momma, you said before that you knew him.”
“I do, though not well,” Momma said.
“Do you think there’s a possibility that he’s capable of being involved in this?” I asked her.
After a momentary pause, she said, “I have to say that I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Who’s your third suspect?” Phillip asked.
“It’s a real estate agent named Maxine Halliday,” I replied.
“I know her as well,” Momma said gravely, surprising me with her admission, though I wasn’t sure why. After all, my mother had her fingers in a great many pies in the area, quite a few of them dealing in real estate and investments.
“What do you think of her?” Jake asked her.
Momma mulled it over for a few moments before answering. “The truth of the matter is that either one of them could be involved in something illegal, and though I wouldn’t have suspected them of being counterfeiters, it wouldn’t surprise me, either. They are both too shady for me to work with, no matter how much they implore me to let them in on one of my deals. If that’s what it takes to make money in this world, then I’d rather not do it.”
“Why do you suspect them?” Phillip asked Jake.
“Mostly it’s their mutual interest in the property. It seems a bit excessive to us,” Jake said.
I expanded on that. “They’ve both been seen lurking around the flip house over the past several days, and we can’t help wondering if their interests were more because of what was going on inside the house or because of the property itself. We’ve spoken to each of them, but we plan to talk to them both again tomorrow after we finish working on the house.”
“I thought the Secret Service still had control of it,” Momma said.
“Oh. We forgot to mention that, didn’t we? Agent Blaze and her team were called away suddenly, and she turned the key back over to us,” Jake replied.
Phillip smiled for the first time that day. “That’s excellent news,” he said heartily. “I can’t wait to get my hands dirty again.”
I was about to ask him if that was wise, given his condition, when Momma shook her head slightly. I’d seen that motion from her quite a bit over the years, so I shut down that line of questioning before it even got out of my mouth. “It sounds like fun to me, too,” I said.
“Then it’s settled. Bright and early tomorrow, we resume demolition,” Jake said.
“I can’t wait,” Phillip answered when Jake’s cell phone rang.
“I wonder what the police chief wants,” Jake said as he glanced at his caller ID.
As the conversation developed, my husband’s expression began to turn rather grim. “Hey, Chief. What’s up? When? Okay. We’re on our way.”
Jake stood abruptly as he put his phone away.
“What’s going on?” I asked him.
“There’s a fire at our flip house,” he said. “We need to go.”
“I’ll drive,” Momma offered, and we all raced to her car so we could see just how much damage had been done.
I was beginning to feel as though the property the four of us had purchased actually was cursed, and as Momma raced to the scene, I had to wonder if the blaze had something to do with the counterfeiting or the inspection the Secret Service had conducted or if it was just a coincidence and not related to anything that had been going on there lately.
I hated coincidences though, and so did Jake.
No, I had to believe that this fire had to be directly related to what had happened over the course of the past few days.
What had they been trying to cover up, though?
It appeared now that we might never know.
Chapter 15
“WOW, THERE’S NOTHING left but cinders and rubble,” I said as I looked at the shell of the place we’d been in earlier that day. Full-on night had fallen, but you’d never know it by the way the scene was lit up from the fire trucks and the police cruisers standing by, all beaming their lights on the burned remains of the house we’d owned so recently. “How did it burn down so fast?”
Smoke still wafted up from several hot spots, and the fire department dutifully treated the smoldering areas, but the place was clearly a total and complete loss.
“These older homes can be tinderboxes sometimes,” Jake said. “I’m sorry I dragged you and Phillip into this, Dot. We don’t have enough to make up for your loss, but Suzanne and I will pay you back every penny it took for you to buy it.”
“Nonsense. I won’t hear of it,” Momma said.
“We insist,” I replied.
“Suzanne, I love you and your husband for making the offer, but I had insurance on the place, so we’ll be fine.”
“What if it was burned down on purpose?” I asked gently. “Will you still get the money?”
“As long as I wasn’t the one who set the fire, we’ll still be all right,” Momma said, “and I have three witnesses who can prove I was nowhere near this place this evening.”
The fire chief, an older man named Harley Lane, walked over to us and took his helmet off. “I heard this was your place, folks. Sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, Chief. Any idea as to what started the fire?” Momma asked him.
“Officially? No, that might take a while for the paperwork to go through.”
“And unofficially?” Momma asked him with a gentle smile. “After all, as you said, I have a vested interest in the place.”
“It was an accelerant, no doubt about it. Based on the three gas cans we found burned up inside, whoever did it wasn’t taking any chances.”
At least that eliminated the Secret Service and their investigation. I’d been worried that there might have been a short in one of the switches, but I was no electrician, or fire chief either, for that matter.
“At least no one was in the house,” Chief Lane said, and then he looked curiously at my mother. “Dot, please tell me that no one was in there.”
“If they were, they were trespassing,” my mother said as she stared at the volunteer fire department crew waving their hoses around and extinguishing the slightest bit of smoke. The smells were heavy and acrid, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to get the odor out of my clothes.
“Everything we can see looks good, but we’re still trying to get into the basement,” the chief said.
“Chief. Over here,” a firefighter called out, and the fire chief excused himself.
“Who would do something like this on purpose?” Momma asked out loud. I wasn’t sure if it was rhetorical or not, but even if it had been, it didn’t stop Jake from answering.
“Whoever was using the place for their counterfeiting activities might have had a reason to burn it down.”
“He’s right, Dot. The fire has to be related to the counterfeiting,” Phillip added.
“I’m just glad that no one was inside when it happened,” I said, trying not to think about what might have been if Phillip and Jake had been trapped inside when the blaze had started.
“Hold that thought,” Jake said grimly as he pointed to the chief, who was summoning Chief Grant over to him. “Something’s going on.”
I looked to where he was pointing and saw that the crew had begun in earnest to clear the debris from the steps leadin
g into the basement. Stephen Grant tried to go down the stairs the moment they were cleared of debris, but he and the fire chief started having a heated argument about it. I could hear Chief Lane saying that it wasn’t safe yet, but Chief Grant wasn’t paying any attention. It wasn’t that hard to eavesdrop on their conversation, because both men were clearly emotional about something.
“I have to see the crime scene for myself while there is still anything down there to see,” the police chief said stubbornly.
“It’s too dangerous,” the fire chief answered.
“It doesn’t matter,” Chief Grant said. “Now you really need to let go of my arm. I’m thirty years younger than you are, and I’m in better shape, too.”
“Do you think I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to?” the fire chief asked him, suddenly lowering his voice. As Chief Lane finished speaking, six of his volunteers rallied around him, and I didn’t like the odds against my friend.
Chief Grant took a deep breath, and then he said calmly, “I need two minutes, and then I’ll come right back out. One of your men can go down there with me if you’d rather I didn’t do it alone.”
“I’m going with you,” Chief Lane said.
There were several protests from his men, but he killed every last protest with a look that could catch concrete on fire. Chief Lane might be older than everyone else on the scene, and in the worst shape of the entire crew, but he was their leader, and there wasn’t a single doubt in anyone’s mind about that. When Chief Lane saw that his men were going to stand down and let him do as he’d promised, he turned back to Chief Grant. “Two minutes, and then we’re coming right back up. You’re on the clock right now.”
As the men disappeared into the basement, I found myself holding my breath. These two chiefs weren’t acting out of machismo or even some elevated opinion of their abilities. They were both just trying to do their jobs in the best way they could, and I found myself admiring both of them for their bravery.
I started counting from the moment they disappeared, and two seconds before I hit one hundred twenty, they came back up again.
We’d been watching idly by, but clearly the volunteer firemen hadn’t. Two of them had retrieved a stretcher while the dual chiefs had been gone, and I had to wonder if they’d been expecting one or both of them to pass out while they’d been underground.
But the fire chief turned to his men as soon as they emerged and said, “Collect the body and then get out of there, pronto.”
What? What body? “What’s going on?” I asked Chief Grant as he rejoined us. “What did you find down there?”
“Unfortunately, the house wasn’t empty when it burned down after all,” Chief Grant said grimly. “They’re pulling the body out right now.”
“Were you able to identify who it was?” Jake asked.
“No, I’d never seen whoever it was before. It must have been the smoke that killed them, though.”
“Why do you say that?” Momma asked him.
“There was no sign that the victim had been anywhere near the fire, and based on where we found the body, it would have taken quite a while for the fire to reach them.”
“What if something else killed them and just left them there to burn?” I asked, not even realizing that I’d said it aloud. “That could have been the real reason for the fire, to hide the fact that whoever you found in the basement was murdered.”
“What are you talking about, Suzanne?”
I couldn’t shake the suspicion I was experiencing at the moment. “I have a feeling that when the coroner inspects your murder victim, the cause of death is going to be something not related to the fire that ended up killing them.”
“So, you think this is related to the counterfeiting?” Chief Grant asked.
“It has to be, doesn’t it?” Jake asked him. “Otherwise it’s just too much to swallow. The real question is who is that body that they’re carting off?” he added as he pointed to the firemen carrying the stretcher out of the basement and toward us.
“We might be able to help with the identification,” I volunteered, despite the fact that my stomach was doing flip-flops at the mere thought of seeing another dead body.
“Thanks, but that’s not necessary. We’ll figure it out soon enough,” the chief said, trying to mollify me.
“If I can help, I want to do it,” I insisted.
To Stephen’s credit, he didn’t look at Momma, Jake, or Phillip; only me. “Are you sure you want to do this, Suzanne?”
“I’m positive,” I said.
“Okay,” he replied. Jake and Momma both looked at me inquisitively, but I just gave them my bravest smile.
The men stopped beside us once they reached us, and Chief Grant unzipped the black plastic body bag.
I’d already been expecting to see a familiar face, so it only took me an instant to identify the victim.
“That’s Curtis Mason. He lives, or I guess I should say lived, right over there,” I said, pointing to the edges of the man’s house through the darkness.
Chapter 16
“DO any of you have an explanation as to why he might have been in your house as it was burning down?” Chief Grant asked us.
“He must have been curious about what we were doing,” Jake said.
When no one else spoke up, the chief said, “There’s something you’re not telling me. He’s one of your counterfeiting suspects, right?”
“It’s probably a reach, but we discussed the possibility,” Phillip answered truthfully.
“That figures. Is that why you think he might have been skulking around inside? Do you think there’s a chance that he started the fire himself to get rid of some evidence and he got himself trapped in the basement before he could get out?”
“You got down there okay with the house in ashes around you,” I pointed out. “What makes you think Curtis couldn’t have done the same thing?”
“If there were smoke and flames, he might have gotten disoriented,” the fire chief said from behind us. “It happens more often than you might think.”
“I don’t know. I’m having a hard time buying it,” I said.
“Suzanne, we really must leave this to the experts,” Momma said. “They’ve dealt with these things more times than we can imagine.”
“Of course I’m not discounting that,” I said. “It just doesn’t feel right to me. I was never all that serious about Curtis as a suspect, and I certainly never pegged him as an arsonist.” I turned to Jake. “How about you?”
“At this point, I’m willing to believe that anything is possible,” Jake said. “If you look at it one way, it does make sense. Suzanne, I’ve been in a few fires over the years, and what the chief said was on the money. When the smoke is billowing and the flames are racing, it’s hard to tell up from down, let alone right from left.”
“Maybe,” I said with a shrug. “It’s just kind of convenient, don’t you think?” I asked him.
“What do you mean?” Momma asked.
“A suspect dies in the very fire that destroys the last bit of evidence,” I said. “Everything is suddenly wrapped up in a nice neat package, if everybody goes along with the chief’s theory.”
“I never claimed that I knew that was what happened,” Chief Grant said. “I just realize from experience that most of the time, the most obvious answer turns out to be the right one.”
“I get what you’re saying, but Suzanne still has a valid point,” Phillip said. Was he coming to my defense, or did he actually believe what he was saying? I didn’t care at the moment, because either way, it was really sweet of him.
“It’s too soon to know anything until an autopsy has been performed,” Chief Grant said.
“When do you think that will be?” Jake asked him.
“The coroner’s kind of backed up at the moment, so it’s probably going to take a few days,” the police chief conceded. “We’ll know more then.”
“And in the meantime?” I asked him.
“I’
d say you should all keep doing whatever it was you were doing before this happened, but that’s going to be tough, isn’t it? I’m sorry about your loss. Is there any chance you had insurance on the place?”
“I never sign paperwork for any real estate purchase without having insurance,” Momma said. “It’s been a sound policy all of my adult life, so while we won’t profit from the purchase, we won’t lose anything, either.”
“Except the chance to make something broken whole again,” Phillip said. I had to wonder if he was still talking about the flipped house, or himself. It had to be pretty traumatic hearing the news that he had cancer, and my heart went out to him and my mother. I hoped it all worked out in the end, but I knew they had a rough handful of months ahead of them even if everything worked out, and I didn’t envy them any of it.
“Don’t you worry,” Momma said as she patted her husband’s shoulder. “We’ll come up with something else.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he said. After he sighed for a moment, he added, “I’ll be in the car if you need me.”
After he was gone, Chief Grant asked, “Is he okay? That man was my boss since I first joined the force, and I can tell that something’s going on with him.”
I wasn’t about to tell the police chief what was really going on, and evidently neither was anyone else. “He was counting on working on the flip house,” Momma said by way of an explanation.
“There’s plenty of time to find something else to do,” Chief Grant said, trying to cheer Momma up.
It was exactly the wrong thing to say, since Phillip may have been running out of time even as we spoke, but if it bothered my mother, she was too gracious to acknowledge it.
“Thank you for your kind words,” she said. “I understand we have no right to learn the truth about the official cause of that man’s death, but he passed away in our house, and I’d honestly like to know what happened to him.”
“Like the fire chief said, it was probably smoke inhalation, but I’ll let you or someone in your family know as soon as I do,” Chief Grant said.
“I would greatly appreciate that,” Momma replied before turning to us and heading for her car.
