Primary Suspect

by Laura Scott

  Her stomach twisted as she realized this was the type of woman who Mitch would go for. Someone as different from her as possible.

  Then again, the woman had cheated on him, likely breaking his heart.

  All the more reason for Dana to keep her distance.

  “Who’s that guy?” she asked, pointing to a man standing beside Simon.

  “Paul Roscoe,” Mitch said, his gaze thoughtful. “I didn’t realize he was friends with Simon, too. He’s applied to be a fire investigator, like me.”

  “Hmm.” Since leaning over Mitch’s shoulder made it difficult to ignore his woodsy scent, she moved away, wandering into the kitchen. She checked out the food supplies and started a list, wondering how long they’d have to stay here.

  That didn’t take long, so she went over to scan the shelf of mysteries Hawk had left behind.

  The two hours dragged by slowly. The crunch of tires on leaves and branches indicated Mike had arrived. She set her book aside and looked at the SUV parked there, also black in color but a different style, sleek in design.

  She followed Mitch outside. “This is perfect, thanks bro,” Mitch said. “I found Simon’s address. I’d like to head over there to talk to him.”

  “Let’s get the phones working and charged up first,” Mike replied. “Miles gave me a bit of intel, too.”

  She huffed out a disgruntled breath, annoyed at how the Callahans acted as if she wasn’t there.

  It took several minutes to charge up the phones enough to get them activated.

  “Miles thinks the bullet used on Janice was from a Glock.”

  Mitch frowned. “Interesting. When I searched for information on Simon, I found that he has a permit to carry a thirty-eight, not a Glock. Could Miles be wrong?”

  Mike shrugged. “He said the weapon was discharged at close range, which means the bullet is mush. So yeah, I guess he could be wrong.”

  “And he verified she wasn’t killed at the warehouse, right?”

  Mike nodded. “That’s right. His boss wants Miles to bring you in, then to work on finding the scene of the crime.”

  “Figures. Let’s talk to Simon. I’d like to know where he was last night.”

  “We can ask.” Mike didn’t seem convinced their efforts would be helpful. He knew it was a long shot, but it was worth a try. “You can drop me off before you talk to Simon. He probably shouldn’t see us together.”

  “I know Simon. I’m sure he’ll talk to me,” Dana volunteered.

  Both men looked at her as if she’d sprouted wings. “I think it’s best if you stay out of this,” Mitch said.

  “I disagree,” Mike said thoughtfully. “Dana has a good point. She knows Simon, so it’s logical she should be the one to approach him.”

  “Whose side are you on?” Mitch demanded.

  “Yours. But let’s face it, Simon is more likely to slam the door in your face than talk to you.”

  Dana held her breath, feeling relieved when Mitch reluctantly nodded. “Okay, fine. But I’m sticking close by, just in case he tries something.”

  “Wouldn’t expect anything less,” Mike agreed. He looked at the address of Simon’s apartment building. “Oakdale? That’s not far from my place. I’ll hang around outside as backup, just in case.”

  “Thanks.” Mitch rose to his feet and unplugged the two phones. “Let’s go.”

  “First you might want to change your bloodstained T-shirt and use one of Hawk’s baseball caps to help disguise your appearance,” Mike said.

  Five minutes later, they were back on the road, only this time, Mitch was driving. No one said much as they made their way back toward town, using less-traveled highways again as they had on the way out.

  After thirty minutes, Mitch pulled over to the side of the road. “Simon’s apartment building is two blocks from here, west on River Run Drive. Keep your phone on you. We’ll let you know if we need your assistance.”

  Mike nodded. “I’ll be around, but you won’t see me unless there’s trouble.”

  “I know.” Mitch nodded as his brother slipped out of the SUV.

  Seeing the large apartment complex brought back a rush of memories for Dana. She’d lived there herself before she’d married Kent. The apartments weren’t anything special but they weren’t terrible, either. At least, not that she remembered.

  Looking at them all these years later, she couldn’t help but see the signs of wear in the faded, peeling paint and missing shingles from the roof. For some odd reason, seeing where she’d come from only made her more embarrassed to still be living in Kent’s house.

  She needed to move out, and soon. This time, she wouldn’t let Kent’s parents guilt her into staying. It was crazy to have a home that large for one single person to live in. A family should be living there, a large family with lots of kids.

  The idea of children made her wince.

  “Did you change your mind?” Mitch asked. “It’s fine if you did. You can stay here while I go in.”

  “No.” She wasn’t about to bare her personal life to Mitch. “I was just reminiscing about how I lived here when I was in school.” Her smile was wistful. “I was so proud of the fact that I was living on my own.”

  “I didn’t realize you lived here, too. Did Kent?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Kent Petrie live in an apartment building? Are you kidding? He lived at home until we got married, then his parents bought that house for us as a wedding gift.”

  “Generous of them.” Mitch flashed her a broad smile over his shoulder. “If you haven’t changed your mind, then let’s go.”

  She slid out of the vehicle, squinting against the bright summer sun.

  “Which apartment is he in?” Mitch asked.

  “The middle building there, number 309.” She led the way up to the front door, wondering how they were going to get past the locked entryway, but there was nothing to worry about—the door lock was broken. She pulled it open, sad to realize the security had fallen away along with the rest of the building’s maintenance.

  The stairs were directly ahead, so she chose them over the elevator, unwilling to risk getting stuck. On the third floor, she led the way down to the last door on the left.

  “Stay back,” she told Mitch. “We don’t even know if he’s here.”

  He nodded in agreement.

  As she approached, a horrible smell assaulted her. Unfortunately, thanks to her nursing background, this wasn’t the first time she’d been exposed to this kind of stench. Her steps slowed and she glanced at Mitch. “Something’s wrong. Very wrong.”

  Mitch’s expression turned grim, and he flattened himself against the wall next to Simon’s door. Using his foot, he pushed against it.

  The door swung open and the smell got impossibly worse. Dana covered her nose and mouth with her hand and peered into the apartment.

  Simon Wylan was lying on the sofa in a pool of blood and other assorted bodily fluids. He was dead from what looked like a gunshot wound to the chest.

  Instead of their prime suspect, Simon was a victim of murder.

  SIX

  Mitch could hardly believe what he was seeing. Both Janice and Simon were dead? Killed in the exact same way? Set up as if to frame him for a double homicide?

  Why?

  He couldn’t wrap his head around it. None of this made any sense.

  Dana looked pale and ill, making him suspect she must be wondering if he really was a murderer after all. Although if he had done this, the last thing he would do is bring her here to see the body.

  “Come on,” he said, gently pressing his hand into the small of her back. “We need to get out of here.”

  She nodded, taking one step backward and then another. The smell was so bad in the hallway he knew it would only be a matter of time before someone called the Oakdale police. In fact, he was
surprised they hadn’t been called before now. Wouldn’t the Milwaukee cops have tried to get a statement from Janice’s current boyfriend?

  Or was it possible they didn’t know about her relationship with Simon? No, they had to know, otherwise there would be no motive behind Mitch’s supposed actions. Plus pictures of Simon and Janice together had been plastered all over social media.

  So why hadn’t the police found Simon’s body before now?

  There wasn’t time to comb through the details. “We need to hurry.” He kept his voice low so that she was the only one who could hear him. “As soon as we get outside I’ll call Mike.”

  Too late. The sound of police sirens filled the air. He imagined the authorities coming closer, trapping them inside the building. Dana must have heard them, too, because she instantly switched directions, heading back toward Simon’s apartment.

  Maybe the police knew Simon was dead and waited to see if he’d show up?

  “This way.” Dana tugged on his arm. “There’s a corner stairwell that leads out to the back side of the building to the surface parking lot.”

  Considering she once lived here, he didn’t argue. Dana led him down a dirty stairwell out into the bright sunshine, summer heat radiating off the blacktop parking lot. He came up short when he realized Simon’s cherry-red pickup truck was parked there in plain sight.

  The sirens were growing louder, but he crossed over to the truck, peering in through the windows to see what, if anything, might be inside. The outside of the vehicle was pristine, clean and buffed to shine, but in stark contrast the inside was a mess, full of empty fast-food containers and dirty clothes. But there was no blood indicating he’d killed Janice. Mitch’s gaze settled on a pair of muddy brown work boots. He could tell they had steel tips in the toes, the kind that guys wore while working on construction sites.

  But Simon was a firefighter, not a construction worker. So why would he need steel-reinforced boots? As a fire investigator, Mitch wore them routinely, but that was only because he was always maneuvering through dangerous conditions in burned buildings.

  “Call your brother,” Dana urged. “The police will be here at any moment.”

  She was right, so he reluctantly turned away and called Mike. “Simon Wylan is dead.”

  “I wondered if something had gone wrong when I heard the sirens,” Mike said. “You want me to pick up the SUV?”

  Mitch hated putting his brother in the middle of his mess. If the cops saw Mike and recognized him as a Callahan, they were likely to detain him. “If you can do it without being seen. If not, we’ll find a new plan.”

  Mike snorted. “Yeah, right. It won’t be a problem.”

  He smiled grimly at his brother’s confidence. “We’ll make our way through the back parking lot. There’s a Gas ’N Go station a few blocks away. Pick us up there.”

  “Got it.” Mike disconnected from the phone.

  Mitch took Dana’s hand. “We need to keep our heads low.”

  “Understood.”

  He tugged on the brim of Hawk’s hat and led the way through the parking lots using various cars scattered across the lots for coverage when available. The apartments were set up on angles and the lots appeared to be shared amongst the buildings. Beyond the parking lot was an open field. Some of the weeds were tall enough to reach his waist, but not enough to hide them from view. He picked up the pace, plowing through the weeds, plagued by a sense of urgency.

  The sound of police sirens slowly faded away the more distance he managed to put between them. His goal was to make it to the gas station building that butted up against the opposite side of the field.

  Finally, they made it. He ducked around the furthest corner, relieved he and Dana were safely out of sight. He gave Dana’s hand a quick squeeze before letting go long enough to peek around the corner at the way they’d come.

  Thankfully there was no sign of anyone in pursuit. Now that he and Dana were relatively safe, he found himself worrying about his brother. What if the cops pulled up and were already checking out the SUV’s license plate number? Looking back, his decision to park only two blocks away seemed stupid.

  Why hadn’t he parked six blocks away, or more?

  “Mitch? Are you all right?”

  Dana’s concern made him ashamed. He should be the one asking her that question. This was hardly what she’d signed up for when she’d decided to help him escape from the ER.

  “I’m fine, but what about you?” His fingers itched to tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “It seems like all we’ve done since we met is run and hide.”

  Her smile was lopsided. “True, but it’s not your fault.” Her brow puckered in a frown. “I just wish I knew why Simon was murdered.”

  “You and me both. I’m truly sorry he and Janice are dead, but I promise I had nothing to do with killing them.”

  “I know you didn’t.” Dana’s faith in him was humbling.

  He heard the sound of a car engine and turned around, relieved to see that Mike had in fact made it to the SUV without being caught. “Looks like our ride is here.”

  “Good.” Dana hurried over to the vehicle, sliding into the back seat. Mitch bypassed the front seat to join her, figuring it was best to stay out of sight for a while.

  Mike didn’t say anything for several minutes, until they were a good ten miles from the apartment building. “You think the same person killed Janice and Simon?”

  “That’s the only thing that makes sense,” Mitch said from his kneeling position.

  “Except it doesn’t make sense, not really,” Dana argued. “I get that someone is trying to frame you, but killing them both and leaving their bodies in two different locations only draws more attention to the crimes.”

  “Which might be what they’re trying to do,” Mike argued. “Puts more pressure on the cops to arrest Mitch.”

  Mitch couldn’t disagree. “I can’t even imagine why I’m being set up in the first place.”

  “Could it be related to the warehouse fire you investigated?” Mike asked. “You mentioned having to take over all of Jeff Walker’s cases, adding them to your own. Arresting you for a double homicide would bring your ongoing investigation to an abrupt end.”

  He hated to admit his brother was right. “Yeah, maybe. I could see that being a motive if someone else took over the investigation, someone like my boss or whoever he hires to replace Walker. The evidence might be changed so that the fires could be deemed to be caused by faulty wiring instead. The way the arsonist originally intended.”

  “We need to know more about those fires,” Dana said. “Like who would benefit the most from an accidental blaze.”

  It was hard to imagine that anyone would benefit from a string of warehouse fires, especially enough to justify murdering two innocent people.

  Unless the two people who’d been killed weren’t as innocent as he’d originally believed.

  Simon’s muddy construction boots bothered him. Why would a firefighter have them? They wore fire-and waterproof footgear, not steel-toed construction boots. As far as he knew, Simon hadn’t worked anywhere else on his off shift. Firefighters worked twenty-four on and forty-eight off, so some did pick up the occasional odd job.

  Maybe Simon worked construction on his off days? Didn’t seem likely. Construction was often weather dependent, which wouldn’t work well for a firefighter who had just forty-eight hours off, some of which needed to be spent sleeping. Most firefighters picked up an occasional shift for an ambulance crew, rather than a heavy-lifting kind of job like construction.

  No, the more likely scenario was that Simon was somehow involved in setting the arson fires in the first place.

  A theory that only confused the entire situation, rather than bringing any sort of clarity.

  “Where to?” Mike asked, dragging him from his troubled thoughts.


  “Your place,” Mitch said. “I’ve inconvenienced you enough. Better for you if Dana and I go it alone for a while.”

  His brother didn’t respond right away, and Mitch’s position on the floor was such that he couldn’t tell where they were headed.

  “There’s a rental car agency that’s not far from my place,” Mike finally said. “I’ll get my own set of wheels and meet up with you at the cabin.”

  “I don’t think so,” Mitch countered. “Get the rental, but don’t meet up with us. You’ve helped enough already.”

  Mike was silent for a moment. “Okay, I can give you some room here, but I need you to stay in touch. Don’t do anything rash without talking to me first.”

  “I won’t,” Mitch agreed, mostly because he wasn’t sure what his next step would be.

  How in the world was he going to find a way to clear his name?

  * * *

  Dana should have been scared out of her mind after finding Simon dead, but oddly enough, she wasn’t. Being with Mitch Callahan made her feel safe.

  Still, she felt bad that Kent’s friend was dead. She knew, deep in her bones, that Mitch hadn’t murdered anyone, but she could see how the noose of suspicion was tightening around his neck.

  Mike stopped the SUV and threw the gearshift into Park. “Stay down for a few minutes yet. I want to be sure they have a vehicle for me before you leave.”

  “Sure,” Mitch agreed.

  She was slouched so low, she couldn’t see much, but she heard Mike’s door open then slam shut. A heavy silence fell between them.

  “Are we headed back to the cabin?” she whispered.

  Mitch nodded. “Yeah, for now. We can use Mike’s computer to see if we can identify who owns the warehouses that have burned down. Although I had already started looking at Jeff’s cases and at first glance, I didn’t see anything suspicious. I highly doubt they’re all owned by the same person.”

  She could sense Mitch’s frustration. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze searching hers. “I don’t understand why you’re not furious with me,” he said in a hushed tone. “I’ve done nothing but put you in danger over and over again.”