by T. L. Haddix
“I’m going to tell him you said that,” Stacy teased him mistily. “Chase might disagree with you.”
“He might try to, but the evidence—his poor thumbs—say otherwise. Speaking of evidence, I need to sneak into the garage. I’m dying to get my hands on that tape and see just what it shows.”
“You and me both,” Ethan said. “What say we mosey over and go in the side door? Stacy, you have a key to that one?”
“On the ring with the car keys.”
“Then we’ll be right back. I’m going to hide the camera inside the garage and just bring the tape out,” Jason said. “We never know who might be watching.”
“If anyone asks you, tell them you’re using the bathroom. There’s one in the back of the garage.”
“Will do.” Jason saluted her, and they were off. When they had crossed the road, Wyatt turned to look at Stacy. “What did Charlie say? Is he going to be able to get us the background searches?” His phone rang as she answered.
“Yeah. He’s going to put a rush on them.”
“Good. Hey, honey. Yes, she’s right here. Hang on. It’s for you.” Wyatt handed Stacy the phone.
“Hello? Hey, I’m okay.”
Wyatt jerked his head and stood. “Gordon, walk with me?”
After placing a kiss on Stacy’s temple, Gordon followed Wyatt. They walked to the back of the sheriff’s SUV, where Wyatt turned to face the fire. His words were blunt. “Depending on what Tom finds out, this could have been an attempt on her life. You realize that.”
Gordon rubbed his neck. “I’m very aware of that.” He turned to watch Stacy, who was still on the phone with Maria. “How do I protect her? I’d like to get her away from Olman County for a few days, see what happens. And I think she could use the break. I worry about how much more she can take.”
“Her piece of shit excuse for a mother’s pushing all her buttons, that’s for sure. Where are you thinking about going?”
“My house in Louisville. It’s close enough that we can dash back up here if need be and far enough that we’d get the distance I think she needs. Plus, I want to go talk to her mother’s friend, Maggie. My gut’s telling me she knows more about what’s going on than she’s told Stacy. Even if that’s just where Pam’s been for the last twelve, thirteen years.”
“Stacy thinks that, as well.” Wyatt shook his head. “You know she’s like a daughter to me, Gordon. I hate like hell that she’s going through this. When she first came to my department eight years ago, she was so closed up, so quiet. It took about three years before she started to relax, to believe she had a home here, that she was welcome. She bought this house and put down roots. I’m glad you’re with her right now. I think she’s going to have a hard time recovering from this latest blow.”
“I’m going to do everything I can to help her through the fallout. I think she’s starting to believe that.”
Wyatt patted his shoulder. “Good. I think the two of you are a good fit. I’ve never seen her turn to anyone physically the way she does you. That tells me something right there.”
Stacy joined them, blanket folded over her arms. She gave Wyatt his phone. “Looks like they’ve just about got the fire put out. Think it’s safe to walk over there?”
“Probably, as long as we stay a safe distance back.”
“I’d like to see how much damage there is on the back of the house.” She handed him the blanket, which he put in the SUV.
They crossed the road and went through the yard to the back. The damage to the kitchen area was more obvious. That whole back half of the house had collapsed into the basement. Stacy reached for Gordon’s hand and clasped it tightly with both of her own.
“There’s nothing left back here. The deck’s even almost gone,” she marveled. “The fire must have started in the back.”
Jason and Ethan came around the back side of the garage, accompanied by the fire chief. All three men wore grim expressions, and Gordon was almost afraid to find out why.
“It’s Pam,” Jason said when they got closer. “She goes into the house, plain as day, comes back out a few minutes later, and then the smoke starts showing about five minutes after that.”
“We showed Tom the video,” Ethan added. “What do we do now? If we issue an APB, we tip our hand.”
“Yeah, but we can’t just let this go,” Wyatt said. “Tom, how long can you stall things?”
The older man studied the house. “Well, we can’t absolutely know for sure, evidentially speaking, that it’s arson. Not until the state arson investigator comes down and walks through. That’s probably going to be tomorrow, given how late in the day it is now. I can probably hold off on making an official determination until day after tomorrow. Does that give you enough time?”
“It will have to. I’ll keep you updated.”
“Do that. Detective, are you going to be around tomorrow? I’m sure the investigator will want to talk to you.”
“I can be, yes,” Stacy answered.
Tom nodded. “Good deal. You have your cell phone? I’ll call you when I know he’s on his way.”
“It’s in the car. When do you think I’ll be able to get inside, get some things out?”
He grimaced. “That’s going to depend on how quickly it cools down and how structurally sound this end of the house is. If it’s not sound, we won’t clear you to go in.”
“How will we get in, assuming we can?” Gordon asked. “Through a window?”
“That’s probably the best way. There’s no flooring left on the front side from that first bedroom to the dining room. Good thing your bedroom and office are on the opposite end. There’s some water damage in those two rooms, though. I’ll warn you now. We were able to stop the fire in the attic before it got that far, but the water brought the ceilings down.”
“What a mess. I’m just hoping I can salvage some of my clothes, my papers. I guess it’s too late to worry about now.”
“You have insurance, right?” Tom asked.
“Of course.”
“Then I would try to look at this as an opportunity.” He gestured to Ethan and Jason. “These two told me you were remodeling the kitchen. Well, now you don’t have those walls to constrain you. You can think outside the box.”
Stacy’s hands tightened around Gordon’s. “That’s one way to look at it. But I liked my house.”
“I know. Listen, we’ll be wrapping up here. I’ll leave a crew behind to watch for hot spots the next few hours, but I think the worst of it’s over. There’s not much you can do except watch. You’re welcome to stay, but you don’t have to.” He shook Stacy’s hand, then Wyatt’s, and headed back to his men.
“So we probably should get this tape into the hands of the state boys,” Jason said, patting his pocket. “Do you want to see it?”
Stacy shook her head. “No. I trust you and Ethan, and I’ve seen the results. That’s all I need.”
“Who’s the liaison with the state?” Gordon asked.
“Russell DeHart. He wants to talk to you,” Jason told Stacy. “What with everything that’s happened today, I completely forgot to tell you that.”
“Today? Or do you think we can do that tomorrow? I’m flat exhausted.”
“I’ll set it up for tomorrow and get back with you on the time,” Wyatt answered. “I’ll have him come here. If you’re ready to go, I’ll have Ethan follow you in your car and park it for you. Where do you want to take it?”
“I don’t know. Chase’s, I guess.”
“We should look it over before anyone drives it,” Ethan said, pulling her keys out of his pocket. “At this point, I don’t trust that it hasn’t been tampered with.”
Gordon spoke up. “We’ll meet you over there in a minute. I need to discuss something with Stacy.”
Once they were alone, he tugged Stacy around to face him. “Wyatt and I think you need to get out of town for a few days. Get some distance between you and what’s going on. How do you feel about that?”
&n
bsp; Her hair had come down from the clip, and she redid it as she considered the idea. “I don’t know. Where would I go?”
“I was thinking we’d go to my house in Louisville.”
She frowned. “What about Chloe? Murphy?”
He cursed. He’d forgotten about Murphy. “Someone else will have to worry about Murphy. Maybe Jason. As much as I’m fond of the little guy, keeping you safe is my number-one priority right now.”
“Maybe Chloe’d be safer if we left her with someone, too.” She glanced over her shoulder at the smoldering ruin of her house and sniffed back a tear. “Trouble seems to be stalking me these days.”
Gordon pulled her close. “I know. And it might not be a bad idea. I know you hate to leave her, but keeping her safe is important, too. I’m so glad you came to Chase’s last night.”
“So am I.” She rested against him for a minute, then pulled back. “You know, I can’t even begin to think straight right now. I trust you to do whatever you think is necessary. I won’t protest. Let’s check my car and get out of here. Where should we leave it?” she asked as they walked toward where Wyatt and the others were gathered around her car.
“Maybe the courthouse? Wyatt’s house?”
“Okay.”
While he and Ethan checked over the car, Gordon explained the plan. “Where’s the best place to safely store her car while we’re gone?”
“I have a barn that we could use,” Wyatt said. “That way, no one would know it’s there.”
“Perfect.” Gordon closed the hood. “And she looks fine.”
“She?” Jason asked.
Gordon rested his hands on his hips. “Cars are female. You’re a man. You should know that. Don’t tell me you haven’t named your car.” When Jason snickered, Gordon scowled.
“Don’t tell me you have! What’s her name, Gordon? Bambi? Amber? Trixie?”
“If you must know, it’s Allie.” He looked around and saw Jason wasn’t the only person who seemed amused by the discussion. Even Stacy was smiling.
“Allie. Okay,” Jason drawled. “And how did she come to have that name?”
“Mallory named her.” That cooled Jason’s humor.
“Oh.”
Stacy snorted. “Oh,” she mocked, though she was tearful. “Jason, I swear, I need to keep you around for comic relief.”
“Yeah, well. Glad to oblige.” He stepped forward and ruffled her hair.
“Glad you’re okay, shorty. If you need anything, just call.”
“Um, actually… I kinda do need a favor. It’s a big one,” she cautioned him.
“Name it.”
“Someone has to watch Murphy. If we leave for a few days, he’ll be by himself. And I need a sitter for Chloe, too.”
“Oh, hell.” Jason’s face showed his dismay. “Anything but that. Anything. Chloe, not a problem. But Murphy? That cat is possessed.”
“He’s been surprisingly good since we brought Chloe over,” Gordon interjected. “I think he does better with another cat in the house.”
“Yeah, better. Like stealing your phone this morning better?” Jason groaned and covered his face. “Fine. But I’ll have to move into Chase’s. I can’t bring the demon home with me. Hannah’d kick us both to the curb. Paulo’d love to have him, though,” he said, referring to his young stepson.
“We can take Chloe,” Wyatt offered, but Jason shook his head.
“No, let her stay. If she calms Murphy down, I’ll need her presence to keep me from killing him.”
When Stacy sniffled again and then stepped up to Jason for a brief hug, he swallowed hard. “Ah, hell. What’s a few days?”
“Thank you. I’ll owe you one.” She turned to Ethan. “And I’ll owe you and Wyatt for taking care of my car.”
Ethan smiled, something the detective didn’t often do when Beth wasn’t around. “I’m sure I can find some reports for you to handle for me once you get back to work.”
“You two go on and get out of here,” Wyatt said. “Gordon, take care of her. Make sure she rests. And watch your backs, kids. I don’t want anything to happen to either of you. I’ll call you as soon as I get a time from Russell on the meeting.”
Once they were in the car, all the life seemed to go out of Stacy. She slumped in her seat, arms crossed tightly across her body as though to protect herself.
“Where do you think she’ll stop? My mother, I mean. How far do you think she intends this to go?”
“I don’t know. I wish I had a better answer for you, but I just don’t know.” He was certain about one thing, though. If Pam Kirchner had stepped out on the road in front of him just then, he would have been hard pressed to not mow her down. She would pay for what she’d done; Gordon would see to it.
CHAPTER 19
ONCE THEY RETURNED TO CHASE and Annie’s, Stacy and Gordon each went to a bathroom. They both reeked of smoke. Stacy crumpled her dress and sweater with frustration. They’d been two of her favorite pieces of clothing. The dark purple sweater was soft, delicate, and one of the most feminine articles of clothing she owned. Ditto the dress, which she’d gotten last summer as a clearance item when Maria had dragged her to the mall in Louisville. She’d only worn the outfit a handful of times, and now they were ruined. She didn’t think she’d be able to get the stench of smoke out of them.
She stepped into the shower, turning the water on as hot as she could stand it. She washed her hair three times, letting the routine movement soothe her. Once she felt reasonably clean, she scrubbed her skin with a soapy washcloth. As she encountered the scars on her thighs, she hesitated. She was more ashamed of them than she was of the scars on her breasts and belly. She’d earned those scars. The scars on her legs, she’d created on her own. The idea of Gordon seeing them made her a little nauseous. If they were going to have a relationship, he had to find out the truth eventually. That was a concern for another time, though.
When she thought she’d gotten all the remnants of the fire off herself, she turned the water off and reached for one of the soft towels hanging on the bar. The oversize cotton swallowed her, wrapping around her nearly twice and falling well past her knees. She’d have to remember to ask Annie where she’d gotten them. The thought was natural, and on its heels was the stark reality of truth. Stacy was now effectively homeless. She stumbled getting out of the tub, catching herself with her injured wrist. The sharp jolt of pain told her that she’d be paying for that move tomorrow, and she hoped she hadn’t done any lasting damage.
She wrapped her hair in a smaller towel, then slathered lotion over her exposed skin. A glance in the half-fogged mirror told her that her cheeks were flushed, probably due to exposure to the fire’s heat. She put extra lotion on her face, hoping the oatmeal-enhanced moisturizer would help bring down the redness.
After squeezing the excess water from her hair, she combed through it with a hair pick, considering the dark, heavy tresses. Her hair was one of the only concessions she outwardly made to her femininity. She’d considered cutting it after the accident, as taking care of it with only one functioning hand had been a pain, but she’d shied away from the idea. Maria had been horrified when she’d mentioned it.
“Oh, no. Come in early, and I’ll help you braid it or pin it up. Don’t you dare cut that hair.”
So that’s what Stacy had done. Until she’d been able to use her right hand, she’d met Maria in her office before work every day and let her friend help. Considering how often Gordon reached out to play with an escaped tress, Stacy was glad she hadn’t given in and cut it.
Easing open the bathroom door, Stacy looked down the hall. Gordon’s bedroom door was closed, and she scurried into her room, closing the door behind her with a relieved breath. Having him see her clad in only the towel didn’t concern her. Seeing him clad in only a towel did.
Chloe, who’d been stretched out asleep on the bed, rolled over and sat up with a sweet meow. Stacy sat down beside the cat and scratched behind her ears, the way she knew Chloe liked it. She
was rewarded with a loud, satisfied purr.
“So we’ve got ourselves a bit of a conundrum, Ms. Kitty. We don’t have anywhere to live at the moment. What do you think about that?”
She flopped over onto her back, asking for more rubbing. Stacy obliged her and fought to not let the circumstances overwhelm her. She’d fought so hard for everything she had. When she’d left her mother’s trailer after the rape, after she’d gone back to gather her belongings, she’d literally had two small boxes and a bag of clothes. She’d lived with little more than that during college and even after she’d moved to Leroy. All her apartments had been furnished, and since she didn’t cook, she didn’t have a lot of kitchen accoutrements. Maria had teased her when she’d bought the house, because she hadn’t needed help packing to move. Everything she owned at that point in time had fit into her car.
She hadn’t rushed into furnishing the house, either. She’d taken her time, chosen every piece of furniture and every decorative item with care. The process had served as a therapy of sorts, and building her home piece by piece had healed something inside that her mother had ripped out of her years before.
Most, if not all of it, had been destroyed. In little more than the blink of an eye, it was gone. Stacy knew Gordon and Ethan had been right. The important things had survived. She even agreed with the fire chief that she had an opportunity to go even further with the remodel. But knowing they were right didn’t help alleviate the pain and loss. Many of the items she’d watched burn that day were unique antiques that would be impossible to replace. Her dining room table and chairs, china cabinet, and sideboard had all been matched pieces she’d bought at an estate sale. They were over fifty years old. Stacy saw the tiger oak and maple as something more than hunks of wood. She considered them to be someone’s legacy, their heirlooms. She’d planned to pass them on to her children if she were ever so blessed as to have any. The beautiful wood had been reduced to a pile of smoking rubble in her basement. Stacy’s chest actually hurt with the pain of thinking about the loss.