“I can’t believe it’s over,” Melissa said quietly beside her.
Libby grasped her hands in hers. They were still so cold. “Believe it. He’s going to go to the penitentiary and stay there for years to come.”
“What will I do now?”
“First, we’re going to go to the Peaches ’N Cream and have lunch. Kent was right, you know. Lorna will be wanting to celebrate and spoil you rotten.” She released her friend’s hands and put an arm around her, turning her towards the exit. “If we’re lucky, she’ll have made some chocolate cake with buttercream icing and we’ll get to score a slice.”
Melissa laughed. A solid, happy laugh. Something Libby hadn’t heard out of her friend in years. It lightened her own troubled heart.
Sometimes things worked out just as they should.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The charred field looked even worse in the daylight as Deke pulled his truck up beside it. Jacob Zimmer and several of the church elders, including Thomas Elder, stood on the edge of the field watching a man in jeans and pale-blue sports shirt slowly walk the perimeter. Mike Feeney, the state arson investigator, was a meticulous man. A detective with the Columbus police for years, he always worked a fire like it was a crime scene, until he determined arson was not the cause.
Deke climbed out of his truck and went to talk to the famers first.
“Gentlemen,” he said, shaking hands with each of them, ending with the land owner. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Jacob.”
“Ja. It is ugly, but thanks to you and God, at least my home and family were spared,” the young farmer said.
“What is Mister Feeney looking for out there, Chief Reynolds?” one of the elders asked.
“Since we haven’t had any storms lately, and since Jacob was diligent about clearing his fields once the hay was dry,” Deke said, measuring his words carefully, “I’ve asked Mike to come out and be sure there was nothing intentional done to cause the fire.”
The group considered this, exchanging worried looks between them.
Finally Thomas spoke, saying what they’d all been thinking. “You believe that someone set this fire on purpose?”
It was more a statement than question.
Deke looked him straight in the eyes. “I don’t know, Thomas. The way it burned, the fact that the chance of a natural cause is small, I have my suspicions. For everyone’s safety, I have to check it out.”
“Do you think it is the young town men who did this?” another elder asked.
Deke gave them a half shrug as he shook his head. “I hope not. But right now, if it was intentional, I have no suspects in mind.” He looked out to the field. Mike waved at him to come forward. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go find out what Mike has to say. Then I’ll be able to tell you more.”
He strode off across the charred field in a direct line to his friend, leaving the small worried group behind. Like he told them, he had no clue who might’ve done this and he sincerely hoped the area teens weren’t engaging in harassing the Amish, especially in such a dangerous way.
“Mike,” he said, coming to a stop beside him and extending his hand.
“Deke.” Mike shook his hand. “Hate to tell you this, but your gut instinct was right. You’ve got a firebug.”
“Fuck.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve the sudden tension there. “You’re sure?”
“You were right about the accelerant. Diesel or kerosene, if I had to make a guess. I’ve taken samples to see if we can determine which for sure.”
“Shit. I’d hoped it was just some kids smoking out here who forgot to be sure they’d smothered their butts.”
Mike shook his head. “No. And what’s more, this guy planned this out.”
The tension in Deke’s neck tightened and his heart lurched. “How?”
“Found the makings of a timer,” Mike said, holding up a plastic bag. “I’m betting the farmers wouldn’t have electronic devices of any kind.”
Deke took it, studying the small bits of electrical components inside. “Good bet. Anything else?”
Mike handed him a smaller bag. “Our guy’s a smoker. Found these over there,” he pointed towards the trees, several feet from the field and down near the creek bed.
“The bastard was watching.” Deke gave the evidence bags back to his friend and the pair walked over to the trees.
“They usually do. Probably getting off on it, too.” Mike stopped and crouched down, pointing to an area of footprints. “This is where he was standing. Found several cigarette butts scattered around. I’ll send them for DNA testing, but that can take a while to get results.”
“And only if we’re lucky enough that he’s in the databases somewhere.” Deke stepped back and studied the area. “Lots of footprints and damage to the foliage about three feet to the left.”
Mike stood, shaking his head. “Yeah, I saw that. Figure he was still hidden here when the farmers started their bucket brigade.”
Deke clenched his hands into fists and worked the muscles of his jaw in silent rage, knowing someone that rotten would get his kicks out of watching people risk their lives. “Damn. They were so focused on stopping the fire from spreading, I doubt anyone saw anyone, but I’ll ask anyway. Did he stay this close the whole time?”
“No. I think at some point he got nervous and moved farther back. I’d need a tracker to know for sure. Tim Carter of the state dog rescue society lives pretty close. Want me to have him come see what he can find?”
“Yeah, I guess we better cover all our bases. We’ll have to bring Gage and his people in on it.”
“Okay. I’ll give Tim a call, and I’ll get some castings of these footprints, then meet you over at the sheriff’s office this evening.”
“Make it after dinner. Gage and I have practice again today,” he said, lifting a brow at Mike’s chuckle. “Don’t suppose you’d like to take on the special team players for us?”
“No way in hell. I have three teenage daughters. That’s enough punishment for anyone.”
They started over to the farmers. “You think this could be a hate crime?”
Mike shook his head. “Too early to tell.”
“Meaning?” Deke asked, even though he knew what his friend was going to say.
“Meaning we won’t have too much information until the guy does it again.”
Deke stopped him a few feet from the farmers. “Mike, you didn’t find any…?” He lifted his eyebrows suggestively.
Mike shook his head. “No, no body fluids. If the guy got off on this, he did it somewhere else.”
“Good.”
For some reason, the idea of the guy masturbating on the farmer’s land after setting fire to it triggered Deke’s personal ick factor.
Mike left him to go store the evidence and make his call to the tracker. Deke headed over to the group of farmers, delivering the news that it was, indeed, an intentional fire.
“Until we’ve processed all the evidence we found, I can’t tell you if the fire was a hate crime or not, gentlemen,” he finished.
“It must be,” Esau Yoder, the youngest of the elders said. “Why else target Jacob’s farm? He has no enemies.”
The others nodded and voiced their agreement.
“Gentlemen.” Deke held up one hand to get their attention. “First, there is no evidence of this being directed particularly at Jacob. His farm is on the remote edge of both the Amish community and the town itself. The person responsible for this could’ve chosen the area simply for that reason. Also, while I know there have been terrible crimes committed on members of your faith in other communities, we’ve never had any such activity here in or around Westen. I’ve always believed our two communities have gotten along quite well.”
This got him some nodding and cooler heads.
“Mike and I are going to meet with Sheriff Justice this evening and go over everything we’ve learned. I’ll ask him to add some extra patrols out this way for the deputies, if th
at would be okay with you.”
Again, he got lots of positive responses.
“Is there anything we can do, Deacon?” Thomas asked in his thick Dutch-English accent.
Deke thought about it a moment before answering. “Keep your eyes open for strangers in the area. Cars stopping for a long period down the side roads. Especially after dark. If you notice a pattern, let me or Sheriff Justice know. Do not approach this person. Although most fire starters are cowardly, I don’t know what he’d do if threatened.”
“We will begin our watch today,” Thomas said.
Deke shook hands around and headed to his truck.
Not much more he could do until Mike had some more information for them. He’d head home, grab a shower and put on some clean clothes, since he’d worn his workout clothes from practice right out to the fire scene. Once he was cleaned up he’d tackle the problem of Kyle. A half smile turned up one side of his mouth.
Nothing like ambushing Libby in her office.
* * * * *
Cleetus walked past the Dye Right Salon for the third time that hour. He’d volunteered to foot patrol the downtown business area today in the hopes of getting a chance to talk to Miss Sylvie again. Last night he’d enjoyed their conversation over pie until the moment he’d had to run out to the fire.
Gosh, he hoped he hadn’t scared her.
“Deputy?”
He froze, his face heating at how nice her voice sounded. Swallowing, he turned and smiled. “Miss Sylvie. Nice day, isn’t it?”
She grinned at him, her pixie eyes twinkling and dimples appearing on both her cheeks. “Must be, if you’re spending it outside patrolling the salon’s sidewalk.”
His face grew hotter at her teasing, but he wasn’t going to go all tongue-tied this time. “I confess I was hoping to catch you going to lunch. I wanted to apologize for leaving you at the café last night.”
“Oh dear, no. You were doing your duty. There’s no need to apologize for that,” she said laying her hand on his forearm.
He liked the way her hand felt on his skin.
“Then would you like to join me for lunch?”
She dropped her hand, but gave him another dimple-filled smile. “I think I’d like that very much.”
“Did I leave enough money for the bill last night?” he asked as they strolled down the sidewalk and around the corner onto Main Street where the café sat.
“Yes, and I told Rachel to keep the change as her tip,” Sylvie said.
“Good. I was worried about it.”
He’d slowed down so she wouldn’t have to walk too fast. She wore those big high heels and her legs being shorter than his and all. How did women walk in those tall heels?
“Was the fire a bad one?” she asked after a few more steps.
“Well, it was pretty big, but no one got hurt. I mean, some guys got a burn or two, and of course some of the farmers had to have oxygen since they were fighting it before we got there. But for the most part, I guess it wasn’t too bad.” He said, then stopped and held open the café door for her.
They headed towards a booth on the side of the room.
“Hey, Cleetus,” Wes Strong called as they passed his table
Cleetus stopped to speak to the other deputies. “Miss Sylvie, I’d like you to meet my friends, Wes Strong and Daniel Löwe. Wes, Daniel, this is Miss Sylvie Gillis.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Sylvie said, blushing as she shook hands with both men.
Cleetus didn’t like watching her get all flustered by his friends.
“You want to join us?” Wes asked.
Sylvie looked up at him, with her eyes wide in question.
The last thing he wanted to do was share the little lady’s attention with his friends. Cleetus shook his head. “No, thanks, guys. Miss Sylvie’s on her break and I’m sure you guys have to get back to work.”
Wes and Daniel exchanged a look and Cleetus was sure they were going to make some wise-ass comment. What would he say then? He didn’t want Miss Sylvie to think he was rude to his friends. Or worse that he was ashamed of being seen with her. He wasn’t. He was damn proud she’d agreed to have lunch with him.
“You’re right,” Daniel said, pointing to their nearly empty plates. “We’re just about done anyways.”
“Maybe next time,” Wes said.
Cleetus took Sylvie’s elbow and steered her past another table or two.
“Hey, Libby, Melissa,” Sylvie said, stopping by the social worker’s table, where she sat with Mrs. Compton. “How did it go today?”
“They found him guilty,” Melissa said quietly.
“Oh, that’s good, isn’t it?” Sylvie asked, looking from one woman to the other.
Libby smiled. “Yes. It is a very good thing. Frank won’t be able to hurt Melissa any more. In fact, we’re celebrating with Lorna’s chocolate buttercream cake.” She lifted a forkful to show them. “It’s on the house, so be sure to ask for a slice.”
“Oh, we will.” Miss Sylvie said, reaching out to squeeze Mrs. Compton’s arm. “And I’m glad things worked out for you.”
“Thank you. I am, too. Even if it will take a while to get used to.”
Cleetus tipped his cap at both women then they finally got seated in their booth.
Glenna, one of the waitresses, joined them almost immediately, gave them a friendly greeting, and took their orders for the Wednesday specials of fried chicken, au gratin potatoes and cooked greens.
“You sure you didn’t want to check out the other lunch items?” Cleetus asked after the waitress had left. “I love the specials, but you could’ve had anything else you wanted.”
“Don’t be silly. I adore Miss Lorna’s fried chicken plates, especially the greens.” Sylvie gave him one of those dimple smiles again and his heart turned over hard in his chest.
“They say greens are good for you. Make ya regular.”
She blinked and opened her eyes wide at him.
His face grew warm.
Crap. Why’d he say that? You don’t talk about body functions with ladies.
“I mean…um…” He didn’t quite know what to say.
“Do you have to go to fires often?” she asked, turning the conversation around.
Thank goodness.
“It’s part of the job of being a deputy. We’re required to take the volunteer courses and train right alongside the other volunteers. ’Course, we don’t have as much training as Deke and his career firefighters, but in a small county like ours, we have to take on extra duties to help keep people safe.”
Thankfully, Glenna came back with their drinks. He took a long drink of his usual sweet tea, wondering what it was about Sylvie that had him either stumbling over his words or making long speeches like that one.
“Well, I think it’s very heroic of you to do both jobs, but my, they’re both dangerous.”
She thought he was heroic. He sat up straighter, his chest puffed out a little bit.
“Most of the time is like today, walking around just checking on people and things. Not always as exciting as fighting a field full of fire.”
“Have you ever been injured?” she asked.
Before he could answer the waitress returned with their food. “If you need anything else, just give me a holler. Enjoy.”
The aroma of the food had his mouth watering and he took several bites before he realized Sylvie was watching him, waiting on his answer to her question. He swallowed his food, then wiped his mouth with his napkin, just like his mama had taught him years ago.
“Up until last spring, I’d never gotten so much as a sprained ankle.”
“What happened last spring?” Her violet-blue eyes had gotten big as saucers, and her thin little eyebrows had crinkled towards her nose with worry.
“I got shot in the leg.”
“Oh, no.” Her fork clattered on the china plate and customers nearby stopped their chatter to stare at them. She leaned in closer to whisper. “How did that happen?”
“We had this crazy man who ran the paper. Thought he should own the whole town. Nearly blew it up when his meth lab partner had booby-trapped their hiding space. Gage nearly died in the explosion. Daniel got koshed on the head with the man’s gun and I chased after him, that’s when he shot at me.” He took another bite of his food and ate before adding. “Like I said, though, stuff like that doesn’t happen around here much.”
* * * * *
Deke took a deep breath outside Libby’s office in the county courthouse building. Westen had decided to combine the courthouse with all county offices to efficiently use the taxpayers’ money when they built the facilities nearly fifty years ago. It had proven to be quite forward thinking, since many times the people serving in the county positions had to make an appearance in court for one thing or another. Especially Libby, who testified in domestic cases.
Opening the door was like walking into a hothouse. Lush green plants sat on every surface, even the desk situated near the window, but facing the outer door.
“Hey, Chief Reynolds!” Ashley, Libby’s secretary, looked up from her computer and greeted him from the center of all the greenery. “Whatcha doin’ here?”
“I was hoping to talk with Elizabeth if she’s not too busy.”
Damn. He should’ve called ahead. What if she was out on a visitation? Or testifying in court again in the Compton trial?
No, wait. He’d heard that SOB Frank Compton had gotten a virtual life sentence earlier in the day.
Ashley flashed him a big smile. “If you’ll have a seat, she’s in a meeting, but I imagine it’s just about through.”
He started for one of the plastic chairs that looked like it was invented in a nineteen-sixties’ torture factory when the inner door to Libby’s office opened.
“Thanks for your time, Libby,” the self-assured district attorney, Kent Howard, said, turning back to look over his shoulder. “I’ve had word that the defendant has skipped bail and the state. Hopefully, he’ll stay gone.”
Libby followed him into the outer office. The pair stopped when they saw Deke standing there. A desire to demand an explanation why they were alone in her office hit Deke. He mentally shook it off. This was her business and he had no right to demand anything from her, let alone explanations. Still, it didn’t sit right seeing her with the lawyer.
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