by Gen Griffin
Katie closed her eyes. “How could he do this to me?”
No one had an answer for that.
“We need to talk to him,” Tate said finally. “Or at least, Sully does. Your landlord will probably want to press charges.”
“I'm sure. My landlord is not a nice human being,” Katie said. Some of the gray numbness was starting to fade and she realized she was clinging to Addison like a child who was afraid of drowning in the deep end of the swimming pool. She forced herself to stand on her own two feet and take a small step back from him.
He gave her a questioning look and she knew he wanted to ask her if she was okay. She gave him a shaky smile.
“I'll need his name and phone number,” Tate said. “Unless you want to call him and notify him personally about the fire.”
“Um, no. I'd rather not. He's a her and you can call her. It's Eileen Peterson. I don't have her number on me right now because my phone died, but I can text it to you later today.”
“That'll be fine,” Tate said.
“Does anyone have any idea where we can find Ian?” Sully had his hands jammed in the pockets of a pair of blue jeans. He looked like he'd rolled out of bed and come directly to the scene. He probably had.
Katie shrugged. “I assumed he'd be moving in with April Lynne, but she didn't look too happy when I said that to her last night.”
“April Lynne lives with her very conservative Christian mother,” Gracie chimed in. “Ian won't be living in that house. I can promise y'all that much.”
“He could be staying with one of the losers,” Addison guessed. “What are their names again?”
“Joe Carmucci and Lowery Something-Or-Other. It starts with an S,” Sully provided unexpectedly.
“How did you know their names?” Addison asked.
“We've had a rash of burglaries in Possum Creek over the last two months. Carmucci has a long record. He's spent several years in prison for exactly the type of crimes that have been being committed in our jurisdiction.”
“He's a suspect,” Addison deduced.
Sully nodded. “Yes, he is.”
“Great. Just great.” Katie pinched the bridge of her nose between her index finger and thumb. “Is Ian a suspect?”
Sully shrugged. “He doesn't have a record for theft.”
It wasn't exactly an answer but Katie decided to leave it alone. She was divorcing Ian. He wasn't her problem anymore. “I'm not sure if those two even have their own places,” she said out loud. “I seem to remember hearing that one of them lives in his mother's garage.”
“Classy,” Addison muttered.
“What about David Breedlove?” Tate asked. “Isn't he Ian's cousin?”
“David is Ian's cousin. I can't see him letting Ian stay with them. David despises April Lynne.” Gracie twirled several strands of her long blonde hair around her fingertips. “Ian and David aren't exactly close these days anyhow. He cussed Trish out a few weeks ago when David wouldn't go out drinking with him on a weeknight. Ian blamed her for stealing his boozing buddy. David was pissed. Ian has yet to apologize.”
“Aren't Maggie and Frank out of town?” Katie asked.
Addison blinked at her in surprise and then nodded. “They are. Why?”
“Ian has keys to their house,” Katie explained. “He might have gone there.”
“I'll bet he did.” Addison put his hands on his hips. “I'll bet that's exactly where that slimy little bastard ran off and hid.”
“Frank Chasson's house?” Sully let out a low whistle. “I love it when my suspects hide in the Sheriff's house.”
Tate snorted. “Frank's not going to be too happy when he finds out you're investigating Ian for arson. That's his baby boy who can do no wrong.”
“Frank's just going to have to suck it up,” Sully told his brother. “I'm not letting Ian get away with burning Katie's house down. He's already gotten away with murder. God only knows what he'll do next if we don't stop him.”
No one said anything for a long minute. Finally, Addison took a deep breath. “I'll ride with you to question him.”
“You sure that's a good idea?” Sully shot a pointed glance in Katie's direction. “I've heard you have a problem controlling your temper when Ian's involved.”
“I'm good.” Addison held his hands up in an effort to look harmless. “I only punch him when he lies.”
“He's going to lie,” Sully pointed out.
“I'll behave myself.” Addison looked down at Katie. “Unless you don't want me to go?”
She straightened her shoulders and forced herself to hold it together. “Go with Sully. You know Ian better than he does. Maybe he'll talk to you.”
“He might.” Addison looked doubtful. “He doesn't like me too much these days.”
“He doesn't like any of us too much,” Gracie said.
“I'll be okay.” Katie put her hand on Addison's arm. “I'm going to go back Gracie and Cal's house. I need to make a few phone calls. Let me know if you find Ian. Tell me what he says.”
“Will do,” Addison promised. He pulled her into his chest and hugged her. It had probably been supposed to be a quick hug, but Katie buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. She still felt shaky and she wanted to be held. Addison cradled her against him and then kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I'll call you as soon as we're done with Ian. Assuming we can even find him. I don't have the slightest clue where to look if he's not at his folks' house. His houseboat sunk.”
“He'll be there,” Katie said. “He doesn't have anywhere else to go.”
“In that case, I don't think we'll be gone too long.”
Katie just nodded at him. “Call me when you get done.”
“I will.” Addison reluctantly let Katie go.
She was surprised by how cold she felt once he was gone.
Chapter 31
Ian's faded red S-10 was parked on the grass in front of Maggie and Frank's neatly kept one-story home. The junk truck was dripping oil and various other fluids onto the carefully manicured lawn. The back tires were resting in Maggie's flowerbeds. The truck had crushed her rose bushes.
“Aunt Maggie's going to be pissed,” Addison said as he gestured to the parking job.
Sully snorted. “The crushed flowers are the least of Ian's crimes. I still can't believe he burned Katie's house down.”
“I can. He's a petty, passive-aggressive little bastard.” Addison wiped his hands on his jeans. He half wished he'd taken the time to go home and put on his uniform. Neither he or Sully looked remotely official. The good news was that a badge was a badge and cops weren't required to be in uniform to do their jobs. The bad news was that Addison wasn't exactly intimidating in ripped, worn blue jeans and a 2XL hoodie that he'd borrowed out of Cal's dresser. Sully's appearance was neater than Addison's but neither of them looked like cops.
The front door of the house opened before they made it from the driveway to the porch. A short, balding man with dirty hands and no shirt stepped out onto the front steps. His bloodshot eyes widened as he caught sight of Addison and Sully.
“Hey, Ian! Joe! We got pigs!”
Sully narrowed his eyes at Lowery. “Most people try to avoid calling us pigs to our faces.”
“Ian! Joe!” Lowery hollered back through the doorway. “Pig alert! Pig alert! Oink oink!”
Ian appeared in the doorway. His strawberry blonde hair was rumpled and his skin was too pale. The freckles on his nose stood out in harsh contrast with the rest of his face. There were dark circles underneath his blue eyes. “Addison.”
“We need to talk,” Addy said.
“I don't want to talk to you,” Ian told him. “It's not a good time for me. I'm busy today. Tomorrow too. Honestly, I'm busy all week. Sorry.” He waved dismissively at Addison.
“Where were you last night?” Addison ignored the dismissal.
“None of your business.”
“Oh, it's our business,” Sully spoke for the first time
. His dark hazel eyes had been traveling over the house, taking in every detail from the half-open garage door to the pile of mops, towels, buckets and rags that were sitting just outside the front door. “Your house burned down last night.”
Ian blinked and then tried to fake surprise. He was a lousy actor. “Oh shit. My house burned down?”
“Where were you?”
“Here,” Lowery said. “We were here.”
“All night?”
“No,” Ian admitted. “We went to dinner at the Mexican place in Canterville and then we went to Goldies and then we came here.”
“You never went to your own house?” Addison eyed him skeptically.
Ian swallowed nervously.
A third person appeared on the porch. He was sloppily fat with large rings of sweat under the armpits of his shirt. “What are y'all assholes out here running your yaps about?”
“Arson,” Addison informed him cheekily. “Feel like confessing?”
Sully groaned under his breath.
Joe scowled at Addison. “We didn't burn that bitch's house to the ground. She probably did it herself just so y'all would blame Ian. She's pissed off at him for leaving her.”
“Ian left Katie?” Sully appeared genuinely surprised.
“She didn't tell y'all that?” Joe's voice was too loud for the quiet winter morning. “Ian dumped Katie last night. She set that fire herself to get revenge on him.”
“Is that so?” Addison clenched both his hands into fists at his side. “Ian, is that what happened?”
Ian looked pale and miserable as he nodded. “Sure. That's what happened.”
“You know what I find real funny, Joe?” Addison smirked at Joe.
“What's that?” Joe sneered down at them.
“You weren't outside when I said whose house burned down.” Addy crossed his arms over his chest. “How did you know I was talking about Katie?”
Joe stuttered abruptly and then shut his mouth.
“Yeah. That's what I thought-.” Addison abruptly shut up because Sully had elbowed him in the ribs.
“Why don't we go inside and talk about it. I'm sure y'all can give us an accurate account of everywhere y'all were last night. Once you have alibis we won't have any choice but to move on to other suspects.” Sully smiled up at them. He looked mostly harmless for a guy who could probably bench press Ian's truck.
Lowery went pale. Ian swallowed unhappily.
“Y'all ain't coming inside,” Joe said.
“This is my Uncle Frank's house,” Addison said. “I don't think you can stop me.”
“I can.” Ian looked nearly as surprised by his words as Addison did. “Y'all don't have a warrant. We don't have to talk to you or let you in.”
“A warrant?” Addison was startled. “You think we need a warrant?”
“I know you need a warrant,” Ian said abruptly. “I was a cop, remember?”
Addison just stared at Ian. “What the fuck are you trying to pull?”
“I'm not trying to pull anything,” Ian said. “I'm just being smart. You two just showed up and tried to accuse me of burning my soon-to-be ex-wife's house down. I've learned a little more about how the law works since everything came out about Casey's death. I don't have to talk to y'all. I sure as hell don't have to let you into my house. You want to talk to me then get a warrant.”
“Ian-.”
“No,” Ian said. He held up his hands and made a stopping gesture. “Don't try to lie to me, Addison. You're not my friend.”
“You can't stop me from coming into that house.” Addison started up the stairs only to have Sully grab him by the arm and snatch him back down.
“Don't,” Sully said to Addison. “They want us to get a warrant then we'll get a warrant.”
Addison glowered at Sully. “That's Frank's house. Not Ian's. I can-.”
“We're leaving now,” Sully talked over Addison as he began to drag him back down the driveway. He looked back over his shoulder. “You boys stay put. We'll be back with that warrant in a jiffy.”
“In your dreams.” Ian folded his arms over his chest. “Good luck finding a judge who'll give you a warrant to search the Sheriff's house. You'd have better luck getting Malone to quit smoking cold turkey than you would getting that warrant.”
Sully didn't respond as he shoved Addison into the driver's seat of the Dodge and then walked around to the passenger's side and got in. Ian and his buddies stood on the porch and glared at the truck as Addison cranked it.
“I can go inside that house,” Addison snarled. “Ian can't stop me.”
“You go inside without a warrant and you'll ruin any chance I have of putting those bastards in jail,” Sully snapped back at him.
“In jail?” Addison shook his head as he put the truck in reverse. “We'll never get Ian to confess to burning Katie's house down with those two monitoring his every word.”
“I'm not talking about the arson. Did you happen to get a look in that garage?” Sully asked.
“The garage?” Addison was baffled as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. “No, why?”
“The garage door was halfway open. I got a pretty good look inside. There were three zero turn lawnmowers in there.”
“So?”
“You really think Frank owns three zero turn mowers?” Sully countered.
“Well, no.” Addison bit his lower lip thoughtfully. “Hell, I didn't even know he owned one.”
“I'll bet he doesn't,” Sully said. “I have a report on my desk. Want to guess what was stolen from Hawthorne Lawncare two weeks ago?”
“Three zero turn lawnmowers,” Addison guessed.
Sully nodded. “You go into that house now, especially after Ian has told you that you can't go inside without a warrant, and you'll make all the evidence we find inside of the house completely worthless. We've got to get a warrant and come back.”
“And hope the assholes haven't disposed of all the stolen property before we get back,” Addison said.
“That too.” Sully scowled at the road ahead of them. “I'm hoping we can find a judge who'll grant us one pretty quick.”
“For Frank Chasson's house?” Addison took a long puff from his cigarette. “You'd have better luck catching a unicorn. Your evidence is going to be long gone before we get that warrant.”
“You're probably right, but what else can we do?” Sully sighed. “I really wish we knew someone who could get into that house without compromising my chances of getting convictions down the road. It would be easier to get a warrant if I could confirm that the stolen property was in the house before I went to the judge.”
Addison mulled over that for several seconds. “We could call David.”
“David?” Sully looked at him skeptically. “David Breedlove?”
“Ian doesn't have the balls to throw David out and he won't need a warrant.”
“What about the other two clowns?” Sully asked. “Joe and Lowery?”
“David can handle them,” Addison said confidently. “Besides, all he'd have to do is go inside for a few minutes and look around, right?”
“Maybe get some pictures on his cell phone if he could manage it,” Sully said. “I have the serial numbers for those stolen mowers. If we could match them to the mowers in the garage then the judge wouldn't have a choice except to give us the warrant.”
“David's ballsy enough. He could probably get pictures of the mowers and send you the serial numbers,” Addison said.
“Call him,” Sully said. “He may be the best chance we've got.”
Chapter 32
“Holy shit. That was close. Too close.” Ian couldn't catch his breath. He'd been dry heaving off of the side of the porch ever since Addison's truck had pulled out the driveway.
“They won't be able to get a warrant,” Joe said.
“What if they do?” Lowery asked.
“They won't.”
“Addison was less than five feet from April Lynne's body. He would
have seen her if he had looked in the bed of the truck.” Ian was shaking.
“He would have seen a blanket. Not April Lynne.”
“He would have seen a bloody blanket with a corpse rolled up in it,” Lowery said. “I'm with Ian. That was too close. We've got to get rid of her.”
“We can't get rid of her in broad daylight,” Joe snapped. “You can't drive around with a freaking corpse in the bed of your truck when the sun is out and anyone with two eyeballs can see it.” Joe scowled at them. “We have to wait until dark.”
“What if they come back?” Ian demanded.
“You really think they can get a warrant for the Sheriff's house?” Joe looked disgusted. “Y'all are as dumb as you look.”
“What if-.”
“Stop worrying about what if's,” Joe snapped. “We've got to get this damned house cleaned up. There's still blood on the floor in the dining room. We have to get this place spotless before your parents come back. It's entirely possible that Frank will come back from vacation early if he finds out that Sully is trying to arrest Ian for burning Katie's house down. We can't risk him noticing that his house is now a crime scene.”
“You're right,” Ian said grimly. “We have to get the house clean.”
“And then what?” Lowery asked.
“We get rid of April Lynne.” Joe looked at them as if they were stupid. “What other choice we got?”
Chapter 33
David wasn't sure what he'd find as he pulled his Toyota 4x4 into Sheriff Frank Chasson's driveway, but he hadn't expected to be hit in the face by the smell of burning plastic when got out of the truck. David followed the foul smelling smoke around the side of the house and spotted Ian's idiotic buddy, Lowery, burning televisions in the backyard fire pit. He had no less than five flat screens piled inside the brick circle and he was pouring an overly generous amount of lighter fluid on them. Various other electronics were scattered on the ground by his bare feet.
“Oh hell,” David muttered under his breath. He'd been hoping against hope that Sullivan Briggs was wrong about Ian and his newfound loser soulmates being behind the rash of burglaries that had struck Possum Creek during the last couple of months. He reached into his pocket and slipped out his cell phone. He opened the camera app and snapped several pictures of Lowery and the fire pit before he turned and went back around to the front of the house.