The little mouse has a spine after all. “Just one. Since you say you didn’t do this, can anyone verify your whereabouts after leaving the dance?”
She pressed her lips together. “I went straight home.”
“Alone?”
“Yes, alone.”
Convenient. “Did you see anybody? A neighbor? A roommate? Somebody who can confirm round about what time you got home?”
“I live in an apartment above my aunt’s garage. Maybe she noticed when I got home. I don’t know. But I’m sure you’ll ask her.”
“I will. Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Newell. That’s all for now. But don’t be leaving town. I might have more questions later.”
Eyes sparking with temper, Delaney shoved up out of the chair. “I won’t be leaving town. I’ll be helping Miranda put the office back to rights so we can all get back to work.” With one, final fulminating glare, she sailed out of his office.
He waited until she’d gone before heading to the file room. It took him only a few minutes to find the folder Inez had pulled for him mere weeks ago. Back at his desk, he opened the file, flipping through the printed crime scene photos and reports until he found the one he wanted. There, in damning black and white, was the proclamation of County Fire Marshal Charlie Hammond that the fire at Gina Draper’s residence was, in fact, probable arson by means of rags soaked in linseed oil.
Ethan reached for the phone.
The other man answered after only two rings. “Hammond.”
“Charlie, this is Ethan Greer down in Wishful. I need you to come analyze the scene of a fire for possible arson.”
Chapter 18
“Please tell me I can get back into my clinic to start sorting this mess out.” The words were out of Miranda’s mouth before Ethan had even shut the front door.
“Hello to you, too.” He looked exhausted. At some point since last night, he’d changed into his uniform. Had he been back to the house or changed into the spare he kept at the station?
“I’m sorry. You haven’t slept.” Miranda crossed over to slip her arms around him.
His lifted in response, but the gesture felt automatic. “No, I have not.”
“You want coffee?”
“Cassie sent over an assortment. I believe I’m currently being fueled by a Ja Mocha Me Crazy. If I add more caffeine on top of that I might be crazy. How long have you been home?”
“Cam and Norah dropped me off on the way to church this morning. What did you find out?”
He skimmed his hands down her arms and focused in on her. “Let’s sit down.”
Miranda tensed. “You’ve figured out who’s behind all this.”
His expression grave, he just folded her hand in his and pulled her toward the couch. “C’mon, sit with me.”
She tugged free, resenting the softness because it made her feel like he thought she was breakable. She was upset, but she wasn’t weak. “Don’t coddle me, Ethan. Just spit it out. What did you find out?”
On a sigh, he seemed to accept she wasn’t going to join him and sank down on the sofa. “We’ve finished processing the scene, so you can get in this afternoon to start cleaning up.”
“Great. The sooner that’s sorted, the better. Now who is making my life difficult?”
“You’re not gonna like it.”
Miranda had a bad feeling about all this, but she waited.
“I’ve had my suspicions, and this morning I brought in the fire marshal to look over the shed more thoroughly. I wanted a more expert opinion on the likelihood that it was arson.”
The knot of dread grew heavier in her stomach. “And?”
“There’s someone in town who’s already committed arson under the guise of an accident. Someone who’s had a history of unstable behavior.”
Don’t say it. Don’t say it.
“Delaney.”
The refusal was instant. “No. It’s not her.” It couldn’t possibly be her. Delaney was a friend and the last thing she needed was to be dragged through the mud again by having her past mistakes spotlit as part of a new investigation.
Ethan rubbed a hand over his hair. “I’m not making this accusation lightly. Just hear me out.”
Though every instinct shouted in rejection of the idea, Ethan had a reputation as a good cop. If he said he had evidence, he had some kind of evidence, and she owed it to him to listen. Crossing her arms, she nodded at him to go on.
“She was at the diner the day your car was keyed, and she’s frustrated that you’re so vocal in defending her, keeping all the gossips fueled rather than letting the whole thing lie.”
Was that really what Delaney thought? Would she rather Miranda say nothing to contradict the asshats like Clarice Morris? “Even if that’s true, she left before I did that defending.”
“Let me finish,” he snapped.
Miranda clenched her teeth but nodded.
“She was at the bonfire the night your tires were slashed, and she left early after witnesses noted her seeming upset after I sang to you. She was at the set up for the dance, and again, left early, seeming upset after seeing you and me together. Based on the evidence Charlie Hammond found, it’s unlikely that fire was a result of a slow build up of linseed oil. And there’s documented evidence from her original arrest about a fire started with linseed oil beneath the deck at the home her ex shared with Gina Draper. She left the dance itself early, also seeming upset, during my performance. She had just enough time to get to the clinic and trash it before we were notified. Apart from the alarm, there were no signs of breaking and entering, suggesting either someone extremely good at picking locks or that the perpetrator had a key. And she has a history of retaliatory behavior against a woman involved with the guy she was into. She had means, motive, and opportunity and no verifiable alibi for any of those occasions.”
“Retaliatory behavior? What the hell are you talking about? All of this stuff has, as you’ve consistently pointed out, been directed at me.”
He just looked at her, apparently waiting for her brain to connect the dots. When she did, she simply couldn’t contain her incredulity. “Are you kidding me? You’re seriously basing her motive for these crimes on the idea that she has a crush on you? Jesus Christ, Ethan, how big is your ego?”
“This is not about my ego. It’s about evidence.”
She couldn’t stay still and began to pace the room. “Evidence? Everything you’ve just tossed out is purely circumstantial supposition. You say she had opportunity. I can list off at least eight people who also had the same opportunity at all of those locations. It’s a small town. We all hang out together. You haven’t proved anything but that she’s part of our crew.”
His lips thinned. “It’s an ongoing investigation.”
“An investigation that’s going to destroy what she’s managed to rebuild of her life. Do you have any idea what she’s had to go through to get to where she is now?”
“Frankly, right now, I don’t give a damn. My job is to protect people and prevent crime. I’m here talking to you about this because I’m trying to protect you from being the victim of further escalation because you aren’t willing to see the truth.”