by D. K. Hood
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Jo pushed open the door.
Jenna followed and stepped inside the huge building. Walls lined with tools met her gaze, and benches with a variety of machines. The place had a strange smell of fire, ash, and sweat hanging in humidity she could cut through. Mechanical bellows hit a raging fire making it roar and bright orange flames danced in the red glowing forge. As they stepped inside, a wave of heat hit her like a wall. In front of the fire a man with broad shoulders, wearing a blue T-shirt with a sweat stain down the middle of his back, turned a metal rod in the fire. As he lifted the glowing red rod he turned slightly and Jenna made out his thick leather apron, protective gloves, and mask. His glossy sweat-coated muscles bulged as he lifted a hammer from a bench and, after placing the red-hot metal on an anvil, struck it several times. She watched, mesmerized, as the metal appeared to curve and bend with each strike.
Keeping her distance from the man working with deep concentration, she raised her voice. “Mr. Suffolk?”
As he turned and regarded them with narrowed eyes, Jenna suppressed a shiver. It was an instinct danger was close by. This huge three-hundred-pound man beat on his wife and from the size of his hands, a slap would be like being hit by a truck. The thought lingered in her mind, that she should have taken Kane’s advice and loaded her weapon with hollow points. If this giant of a man came at her she’d like to take him down with one shot. She waited as Suffolk dropped the hot rod into a barrel of water. He was momentarily hidden by the steam as the water bubbled and hissed. Her heart skipped a beat as he emerged from the cloud, metal rod in hand, and started toward them. “Mr. Suffolk? May we have a moment of your time?”
“Are you selling something?” His voice was deep and rumbling. “If you are, get the hell off my property.”
“No, I’m Jenna Alton and this is Special Agent Wells, FBI.” Jenna stood her ground. “We’d like to speak to you.”
“Sure.” Suffolk tossed the metal rod on a bench, and removed his gloves and protective facemask. He looked from one to the other and shook his head slowly. “I can’t imagine why they allow women in the FBI to bring down criminals. You should be at home caring for your menfolk.”
Hackles on full alert, Jenna held his gaze. “We don’t have any menfolk to worry about, but that’s none of your concern.”
“I might have guessed.” Suffolk snorted and then seemed to gather himself. “What can I do for you, Agents?”
“You had a few problems with Isaac Wood after a counseling session and put in a complaint against him. We’re just following that up.” Jo flipped through her notebook as if she wasn’t interested in what he had to say.
“Isaac Wood?” Suffolk pinched the bridge of his nose. “He didn’t understand the way of things. Most of the families who live in Louan had the same upbringing as me. We have our own way of doing things. Not like some of the newcomers.” He leveled his gaze on them. “He told my wife she should leave me and was an equal partner in our marriage. I objected and gave him my opinion, is all. For that I was hauled into the sheriff’s department for questioning and by the time I’d gotten home, she’d gone. So yeah, I was pissed.” He swiped sweat from his brow. “It’s too hot here to talk. Come up to the house. Dawn will have my lunch ready.”
Jenna opened her mouth to decline but Suffolk just removed his apron, brushed passed them, and headed up a pathway to the house. She looked at Jo. “I think we’ve been ordered to follow.”
“What is it with him and the director of the CFSD? Do they belong to a cult or something similar?” Jo stared after the man with a concerned expression. “They treat their women like objects.”
Jenna shrugged. “I have no idea but I plan to find out. Problem is most times our hands are tied. We can assist any woman who needs our help but we can’t interfere with people’s choice of religious practices. If he comes from a sect that believes women should be beholden to men, we can’t get involved.”
“I don’t like this at all.” Jo stared after Suffolk. “He’s confident but there’s an underlying aggression. We’re walking into an unknown situation here.”
“Okay.” Jenna pulled out her phone and called Kane. “Hi, we’re at the Crazy Iron Forge out at Buffalo Ridge and heading into Roger Suffolk’s house and he’s a strange one. I thought I’d call it in just in case there’s a problem.”
“Send me the coordinates. We’re almost through here and I’ll head that way but if you get into a situation, call me or activate your tracker ring.” Kane sounded concerned. “What’s worrying you about him? Do you want us to come by anyway? We’re not far from your position.”
Jenna sighed. “Good to know. Yes, come by and I’ll explain later.”
“Any news on the search for Sophie Wood?”
“No sign of her.” Jenna chewed on her bottom lip. “Sheriff Crenshaw said he’d call if they found any trace of her. I gotta go. We’ll talk later. Bye.” She disconnected and looked at Jo’s worried expression. “The guys are close by and heading this way if we need backup.” She smiled. “And we’re armed. He might not realize we have shoulder holsters under our jackets. Come on let’s go, I don’t think he’ll enjoy us being tardy.”
The ranch house was about fifty years old and had a wide porch with a swing. Such a romantic thing for a man who didn’t appear to have one romantic bone in his body. An ancient gnarly pink rose bush, its trunk thick and woody, climbed over the wooden railing. The scent gave Jenna memories of her gran’s house. The front door stood open and through the fly screen, she could see straight down a hallway to the kitchen, and to the doors running off each side. The floor shone from layers of polish and the side table held a bronze statue of a cowboy.
“Don’t just stand there, wipe your feet and come in.” Suffolk waved them inside from the kitchen door.
Jenna wiped her feet on the mat and stepped into the house. It smelled like polish and fresh coffee. She led the way into the kitchen scanning the rooms each side of the hallway. A big family room, an office with a desk, and walls lined with books all as neat as a pin, not one speck of dust anywhere. The older style kitchen had a scrubbed wooden table and benches that sparkled. It was as if nobody lived there, no personal items, no photographs, or even the usual notes on the refrigerator or beside the phone. Her attention moved to the two women standing to one side. They were covered from neck to knee, with caps covering their hair, and wearing huge aprons. An older woman in her sixties maybe and a young woman, perhaps sixteen or a little older, looked at her as if she’d grown two heads. She smiled at them. “Hello, I’m Jenna and this is Jo.”
“They don’t speak to outsiders and no doubt they’re wondering why I’ve welcomed you into my home. You see we don’t approve of women wearing pants or taking men’s jobs.” Suffolk went to the kitchen sink to wash up. He looked at the women. “This is my ma and Dawn. Ma is here to teach Dawn the way of things, so we can marry. I’m not making another mistake, so I chose a young one this time.”
“Did you divorce your wife?” Jo’s lips flattened as she regarded the young woman.
“Nah, she died.” Suffolk shrugged. “Without a man’s protection bad things happen.” He turned his hard glare to Dawn. “Don’t they, Dawn?”
The girl kept her gaze on the floor and that warning prickle crawled up Jenna’s neck again. “May I ask how she died?”
“Her brakes failed and she wrecked her ride, out near Blackwater.” Suffolk dried his hands on a towel Dawn supplied. “Take a seat. Coffee and cake or would you prefer lemonade? My ma makes it fresh every day.” He sat down at the table and looked at Dawn. “I’m sitting and you’re still dithering. Time’s money and I need to be back at work.” He swung his gaze back to Jenna.
“Coffee is fine for us, thanks, no cake.” Jenna sat at the table as Suffolk drummed his fingers on the table clearly agitated.
“You DC types are always watching your figures.” His gaze moved over them. “It’s an obsession we don’t allow.”
&nbs
p; I wonder when he was in DC. Jenna shrugged. “I see. I haven’t been to DC for years, when where you there?”
“A few years ago, I guess.” He narrowed his gaze at her. “I’m not giving you a reason for being there if that’s what you’re fishing for, a man has a right to go where he pleases during his vacation.”
Jenna raised a brow at his attitude and smiled. “I couldn’t agree more.”
The coffee and fixings arrived in seconds and Suffolk’s huge plate of sandwiches. The next moment the women scuttled out the door like frightened rabbits. Jenna added cream and sugar to her cup. A worry crept over her about the young vulnerable woman and she had to ask. “So does your mother live with you?”
“No, she has Pa to care for but she comes by to watch Dawn when I’m working.” He looked from one to the other. “Dawn isn’t from around here. She came recommended by one of my colleagues. If she shapes up, I’ll marry her.” He waved a hand around the house. “So far she is working out just fine. She doesn’t say much and that’s fine by me.”
“How old is Dawn?” Jo stirred her coffee. “She seems a mite inexperienced for a man of your age.”
“Coming up sixteen.” He ate slowly. “Enough of snooping into my private life. What is it you need to know about Isaac Wood?”
Trying not to change her facial expression, Jenna sipped the coffee but inside her mind was reeling. Suffolk had just added another reason for her to be suspicious of him. He had an underage girl living with him and if she made an issue out of it, she might place them all in danger. Having no idea what this huge man was capable of, she’d have to act nonchalant and wait for backup. She tried to focus on the questions but inside, she wondered if the timid girl was the missing Sophie Wood. “Just the details of the complaint. You mentioned he gave you bad advice about your wife?”
“Not to me, to her.” Suffolk bit into a sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. “You need to understand the way of things here. We look at marriage a little differently from some folks. Our church started here in Louan fifty years ago. Our womenfolk accept that we are the providers and they are chattels. They promise to obey and we enforce the contract. Any females born into our church are the chattels of their father and do as they say, marry who they say. Understand?” He sighed. “He told my wife she had the right to complain and go against my wishes. He said she could leave at any time and wear what she decided. That’s not our way.”
“What did you expect a marriage counselor to say to you?” Jo frowned. “That’s how most of the people in this country show respect to each other.”
“That is not how we measure respect. I wanted to go and speak to an elder of our church and ask him to enforce our teachings but she refused and insisted we go to speak to a social worker. How Phelps ever put us with Wood I don’t know, he has our own people working there.” He huffed an annoyed sigh. “I figure that receptionist of his had a hand in it. She is an old busybody. I spoke to Phelps and he knew nothing about it.”
“I see.” Jenna watched him eat and tried to understand how a woman could be treated as property. “Wasn’t your wife from your church?”
“Of course, she was.” He gave her an exasperated stare. “But she went to the hospital on a few occasions and some of the nurses there brainwashed her.” He snorted. “This is why I wanted her to speak to an elder but then she refused to do my bidding. I had no choice but to haul her down to speak to a marriage counselor. My word nor the back of my hand made any difference, and after the meeting with Wood she was past redemption.”
“So, you put in a complaint and the next thing the Woods’ entire family dies in a housefire.”
“You don’t say?” Suffolk’s gaze was cold and expressionless. “Now some would say that was divine intervention, same as the car wreck that freed me from my wife and allowed me to start fresh.”
“It was homicide.” Jo was watching him closely. “Someone planted an explosive device in their home and kidnapped their daughter.”
“And you’re telling me this why?” Suffolk sipped his coffee, eyeing Jo suspiciously.
“Because of the complaint, we’re hunting down anyone who might have had a problem with Mr. Wood.” Jo placed her cup into the saucer. “When did you last see Isaac Wood?”
“The day we had the counseling session.” Suffolk snorted. “Why would I need to see him again? The man is a fool.”
“And where were you around nine on Tuesday evening?” Jo lifted her chin. “Just for the record.”
“I was in Black Rock Falls.” He leaned back in his chair making it creak under his weight. “I had an urgent delivery for Miller’s Garage. I spoke to George and then had a meal at Aunt Betty’s Café. I dropped by the Triple Z Bar for a few beers and I’m not sure when I arrived home.” His mouth formed a thin line. “Why?”
Jenna noticed Dawn hovering near the doorway trying to get her attention. She gave her a very slight nod and stood, collected the coffee cups, and then took them to the sink. As she passed the kitchen door, Dawn thrust a note toward her and Jenna slipped it into her pocket. Without missing a stride, she retook her seat. “I’m sure you understand, Mr. Suffolk, when we chase down leads, we like to have a timeline of where everyone was at the time of the incident. It’s nothing personal.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with the explosion. I made a complaint against Wood, which is my right.” Suffolk leaned back in his chair again and eyed her critically. “I could’ve taken him out back and had it out man to man but he was a puny guy and I’d have gained no satisfaction out of it. They say the pen is mightier than the sword and bruises fade but a black mark on a man’s work record stays forever.” He pushed to his feet. “Time’s up. I have work to do. People rely on me being punctual with their repairs.”
Jenna stood. “Thank you for the coffee.” She hurried out the door with Jo on her heels.
Aware of Suffolk crunching down the pathway behind them, they dashed to the safety of Jenna’s SUV. Taking a glance behind her, Jenna’s heart quickened as she stared into Suffolk’s eyes as he stood watching them, huge hands balled at his waist. He’d been in DC around the time of the bombings but so had thousands of people—but not all of them had conveniently lost their wives in a car wreck. Her gut was telling her there was more to Roger Suffolk than met the eye. She needed to find out what had happened to his wife and why she required frequent hospital visits. The accident seemed way too convenient. Had Suffolk tampered with the brakes on his wife’s vehicle?
When they reached the SUV, Jenna took off and once safely away from the property pulled into the curb. She searched her pocket for the scrap of paper Dawn had given her and stared at it. Panic for the girl’s safety shivered down her spine. She swallowed the lump in her throat and handed the note to Jo. On the edge of the newsprint was scrawled:
Help me.
Nineteen
It was unusual for Jenna to be concerned about interviewing a suspect. In fact, Kane found her to be confident and professional at all times. She’d spoken to dangerous men before and he wondered what she’d discovered about Roger Suffolk that had spooked her. He pushed his phone into his pocket and returned to Carter’s side. They’d spoken to two men with priors and both had solid alibies for the time of the explosion. The third, Simon Dexter out of Prairie View, was the driver of the gray car captured on scene by Cleaves’ dashcam and a known firebug.
“How was it you were out near the Woods’ ranch?” Carter inclined his head, and looked at Dexter, his pen hovering over his notepad.
“I was heading home after picking up six peach pies from Aunt Betty’s Café in Black Rock Falls. I freeze them and take them to work in my lunch pail. I live alone and don’t have a wife to fix my meals.” Dexter shrugged. “The ranch went up like a bomb and I stopped alongside the highway with some of the other drivers to watch the show.”
“You didn’t call it in or go to offer the residence assistance?” Carter looked down his nose at him, his green eyes flashing in annoyance. “A family die
d in that blaze, you may have been able to save them but you chose to stand by and watch ‘the show’ as you called it.”
“Well, yeah but I wasn’t the only one.” Dexter’s face had drained of color and his hands shook as he pushed a slick of greasy hair from his eyes. “And that’s not fair to say I don’t care about the Wood family. I had a hankering after Sophie, and asked her father if he’d put me on his list of men interested in taking her for their wife.”
“His what?” Carter leaned forward, looking incredulous. “Wood had a list of prospective husbands for his fifteen-year-old daughter?”
“Well, yeah, I guess.” Dexter frowned. “Although, when I asked him, he told me to get off his property.” His mouth turned down. “I had a right to ask.”
“Did you now?” Kane observed him closely. “Getting back to the night of the explosion, what did you hear and what did you see?”
“A boom or maybe two booms and then a scream.” Dexter stared into the distance as if thinking. “It could’ve been an echo and the scream could’ve been from the explosion. The fire burst out of the mushroom of dust.”
“Did you see anyone leave the ranch, or did any vehicles pass you?” Carter made notes.
“I don’t recall. I parked my car to watch the blaze, and then walked down to speak to John… John Cleaves. He has dashcam footage and sent me a copy. I have it here if you want to see it?” He reached for his phone.
Kane shook his head. “We’ve seen it. Thanks, and if you think of anything else, give me a call.” He handed Dexter his card and with a look indicated to Carter their need to leave.
“What’s the rush?” Carter fell into step beside him. “I wanted to lean on him a little harder. He could have set the explosion and set if off by remote as he drove by. We have no idea when the bomb was set, only when it was detonated. I’m keeping him on our persons of interest list.”