Fan the Flames (20 page)

“It was a complete piece of junk—the gun, I mean—”

“Where are you staying tonight?” Callum interrupted.

At the apparent non sequitur, she paused before answering, “Home.”

“Alone?”

Now she could follow his thoughts, because she'd just had a similar discussion with Ian not even twelve hours earlier. “It's the safest place I could be, believe me.”

His concerned frown didn't lighten. “I'd be more inclined to believe that if you hadn't had four Riders break in just a few days ago.”

The reminder of her failed security made her scowl to hide the anxiety that burned through her. “They broke into the shop. Not my home.”

“I thought your shop was connected to your home,” Lou said, jumping into the conversation. “Where's your house, then?”

“That's one reason why it's safe,” Rory nonanswered. Although Lou grinned at that, Callum still looked unhappy.

“Fudge!” Lou glanced at the clock and hurried toward the door to the back room. “I need to start closing. Keep talking, though, just make it loud so I can hear.”

Quiet settled over the shop. Without Lou as a buffer, Rory felt a little awkward, sitting with the watchful, quiet Callum.

“Why did you visit Julius?” he asked, which made her jump and then breathe a silent sigh of relief that he'd broken the silence.

“I thought he might act like a decent human being.” When Callum just waited with a lifted brow, she explained, “I was hoping he remembered seeing Ian wearing his necklace—”

“Pendant!” Lou yelled from the back room.

“Pendant,” she corrected, rolling her eyes, “recently. Billy had already coached him, though, so Julius gave me some line about not seeing the neck—I mean,
pendant
—since last fall.”

“That is such a lie!” Lou barreled back behind the counter, her eyes lit with such fury that Rory was surprised flames didn't shoot from her ears. “Someone took that pendant just a few weeks ago while he was in the shower at the clubhouse.”

“Julius stood up to Billy at the end, though. Maybe he'll reconsider.” Rory wasn't too optimistic that Julius's liquor-soaked testimony would hold up in court, though. “Who took it?”

“Good question,” Lou said. “The reservoir was frozen until the training exercise, so whoever snagged it must've planted the pendant sometime between when I kicked poor Willard and when it was entered into evidence.”

Rory tried to process what the information meant. “How could he—or she—have attached it to the weight?”

Callum shook his head. “Wilt pulled that weight out of the water, and he didn't see anything on it, although it was covered in plants and algae. It's possible he missed it.”

“Maybe.” Lou frowned. “So someone most likely planted the pendent on dead-guy-discovery day. The scene was so chaotic, though, that anyone could've done it.”

“Oh!” Rory sat up straight as she remembered something. “Dep—I mean,
someone
with the sheriff's department told me that there was an issue with the weight's chain of custody. It was supposed to be checked into evidence at the scene, but somehow it got overlooked. It wasn't actually entered into evidence until the next day.”

“Whoa,” Lou breathed. “That'd make tampering with the weight a lot easier.”

“And it had to be someone who was at the clubhouse when Ian was showering,” Rory added, watching as the other woman's face brightened.

“You're right! This does narrow it down.” Turning toward Callum, who was shaking his head, Lou scowled. “Great. You're about to smash my hopes with some of your obnoxious logic, aren't you?”

“Yes.” The smile he directed at her was sweet, and Lou dropped her mock-frown and returned it. Uncomfortable, Rory looked away, feeling as if she were watching a moment too intimate to be witnessed by an outsider. “The person who took the pendant didn't have to be the killer, or even the framer. He or she could've been paid by someone else to get it from Ian.”

“There it is!” Lou threw up her hands in pretend exasperation, although Rory could see the smile tugging at the other woman's lips. “There you go with your
facts
and
sensible reasoning
.” She looked at Rory. “How annoying is that? I can't tell you how many of my wild—yet interesting—theories he's smashed into bits.”

“It's what I do,” Callum said, straight-faced, making Lou laugh. Even Rory had to smile.

“That's the key, then,” Lou said. “We prove that Ian still had the pendant in his possession up until a few weeks ago, and all the so-called evidence against him goes away. Poof!”

“That's why I wanted to talk to Julius.” Rory's frown returned. “I just didn't think his loyalties would be so turned around.”

Lou's grin didn't dim. “Julius isn't the only one who's seen Ian over the past six months. The whole fire department would testify that he's been wearing the pendant up until a couple of weeks ago.”

Chewing on the inside of her lower lip, Rory shook her head. “I don't know how much weight that would carry. I mean, they'd testify that he was bald and green if it helped him.”

With an amused snort, Callum said, “You're right. Who else would have noticed the necklace—someone more impartial, I mean?”

“Pretty much everyone in town,” Rory said after a pause. “I just doubt that they noticed or that they'll remember whether or not it was around his neck.”

With a frustrated growl, Lou nodded in grudging agreement. “You're right. I couldn't even tell you if he was wearing it when I saw him a month ago, and I was ogling him pretty hard.”

Callum gave a grunt of protest, and she reached over the counter to pat his arm. “In a purely objective way, of course.”

The antsy feeling was returning, and Rory stood. “I'll let you close the shop.”

“Are you going to visit Ian?” Lou asked.

Rory grimaced. “Deputy Lawrence took great pleasure in informing me that visiting hours were on Monday nights.”

“Deputy Douchebag,” Lou muttered, making Rory laugh.

“You headed home, then?” Callum asked, that concerned look returning.

“No.” If she did, she'd just pace and fret and jump at every shadow. “Station One. I'm going to see if the guys have any ideas. I've joined Ian on his shift for the past two nights, so I'm feeling wide awake right now.”

“Good idea.”

“I'll let you know when North arrives tomorrow morning,” Lou said.

“Thank you.” There was that word, once again. It felt like the hundredth time she'd used it in the past eight hours or so. “I have more information to pass on to North before the arraignment.”

“Yeah?” Lou said with interest, leaning forward. She looked ready to leap over the counter and shake the information from Rory.

“Later,” Rory said, turning toward the door. “If I don't leave now, we'll be here until midnight, and you still won't have gotten all your closing done. Call me tomorrow morning, and we'll talk. Early is fine—I doubt I'll be sleeping.”

“You're going to make me wait all night before telling me what you know?” Lou practically wailed. “That's so cruel!”

“Rory's right,” Callum said. “Start closing. You'll survive a night of curiosity.”

“Fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow then, and it had better be good!” She softened the threat with a smile.

With a wave, Rory left the shop and headed toward her truck. Outside, it was fully dark, and the warm yellow glow from the coffee shop window made the shadows even more ominous. Something rustled on the far side of the parking lot. Her head whipped around even as Rory told herself to quit being twitchy. Worry about Billy's possible vengeance was making her imagination go into overdrive.

Was there something there, though? She thought she saw a shape that was slightly darker than the surrounding shadows. Walking faster, as quickly as she could manage on the slick surface of the lot, she stared at the form, straining her eyes to distinguish reality from her nervous fears.

The wind picked up, bringing with it the smell of body odor and pot, and her shoulders relaxed slightly.

“Jim?” she called, peering harder into the darkness, trying to pick out Smelly Jim's skinny form. The man had been a common sight around town until a few weeks ago. He'd shared his conspiracy theories with her on numerous occasions. Even though she'd refused to sell him any weapons, on account of his mental instability, he hadn't seemed to take offense. It had been a while since she'd seen him, long enough that she'd been worried something had happened to him. “That you?”

The shape merged into the shadows and disappeared. Rory stood still for another few seconds until she realized how exposed she was, standing alone in the middle of the parking lot, an easy target for someone hiding in the surrounding blackness.

She hurried to unlock the truck and climb inside. As she started the engine, she realized she'd been holding her breath for who knew how long. When she released it, her exhale was shaky.

“Silly,” she scolded herself, glad that no one was around to see her acting like a frightened little kid. Even as she told herself she was overreacting, her hand reached for the glove box, and she pulled out her Smith & Wesson Sigma. Rory wasn't a huge fan of the Sigmas, considering them to be Glock knockoffs. Once she'd switched out the spring to lighten the heavy trigger pull, though, it was a reliable, inexpensive pistol to keep in the truck.

Once she was holding the gun, she felt calmer, the familiar weight and coolness restoring her confidence. After a few more moments, she tucked the gun back into the glove compartment and drove out of the parking lot.

* * *

The second she entered the station, everyone descended on her. There were twice as many firefighters there as were on the night shift normally. Rory didn't know if she'd arrived at shift change or if no one wanted to leave without getting an update on Ian's situation.

“What's going on with Ian?” Soup asked.

Before she could answer, Junior jumped in. “Have you seen him? How's he holding up?”

Question after question was thrown at her, until the chief whistled sharply. When everyone quieted and looked at him, Early said, “Give her a chance to speak, guys.”

Their eyes turned to Rory.

“I wasn't able to see him,” she started with the bad news first. “Deputy Lawrence said that visiting hours were only on Monday nights, and he wasn't in the mood to break the rules.”

There was a smattering of grumbles. Judging by the large number of disgusted looks, pretty much everyone had had the dubious pleasure of dealing with the deputy.

“Asshole,” Junior muttered.

Steve was too far away to smack Junior, but he did send a stern glare his way. “Watch your mouth.”

“Well, he is.”

Although she didn't say it out loud, Rory had to agree with him on that. “Lou lined up a lawyer for him, though, and the evidence is looking pretty shaky. It all centers around the pendant that Ian used to wear.”

There were nods from several in the group.

“I remember that thing,” Soup said. “I always saw the chain, so I asked to see what was on it one day, and he showed it to me. Said it used to be his dad's.”

“Was that sometime this winter by any chance?” Rory asked hopefully, then deflated a little when he shook his head. Of course it couldn't be that easy.

“It was last year sometime—late spring or summer, maybe.” He gave her a curious look. “Why's that important?”

“Because it was found with the body in the reservoir,” Rory explained. “Billy's trying to say that Ian stopped wearing the pendant last fall, when it actually went missing just a couple of weeks ago.”

“
Billy
was saying that?” Steve asked.

“Billy's turned on Ian, thanks to what happened during the break-in at my shop.”

“Still, Billy?” Steve frowned. “I thought he was like a father to Ian.”

“Yeah,” she muttered sarcastically, anger and fear still lingering from her encounter with Billy. “Some father.” Rory closed her eyes for a second, refocusing her thoughts on what was important at the moment. There'd be plenty of time later to stew and be bitter about Billy's betrayal. “What I need from you guys is confirmation that Ian was still wearing that pendant up until recently. Do any of you remember seeing it over the last few months?”

They shifted and glanced at one another.

“Not specifically,” Junior admitted, looking pained. “I knew he always had it around his neck, but I couldn't tell you for sure when he stopped wearing it. Sorry.”

There was a dismayed chorus of agreement. With each admission, Rory's hope withered a little more.

“Hang on,” Soup said as he hurried toward the offices. Everyone, looking baffled, watched him go. Soup returned shortly, grinning and waving a photograph in his hand. “There!”

He thrust the photo toward the group, and they all circled around him, jostling for a better position. When Rory wiggled in next to Soup and managed to catch her first glimpse of the photo, she actually threw her arms around him in relief. As he turned bright red, she released him, surprised by her uncharacteristic show of affection.

“This was taken just last month,” Soup said.

“That's great, Soup,” Rory said, with another look at the picture. In the photo, Ian was glaring at the camera with an exasperated expression. It looked as if he'd been sitting on one of the locker room benches, leaning forward with his arms propped on his knees. The best part was that he was shirtless. It was great not only because a bare-chested Ian was a sight to behold, but also because the pendant, clear and easily recognizable, dangled from a chain looped around his neck. “How can you prove it was taken in February, though?”