Blazing Summer (Darling Investigations Book 2)

by Denise Grover Swank

  “I heard about Amelia nearly runnin’ you down this afternoon,” she said.

  I gave a half shrug, seeing no reason to comment any further. The whole town had no doubt heard about it, and soon it would probably become wider news. I settled onto the seat and tried to figure out how to proceed. Clementine was so spooked, I worried she’d take off running—whether she’d eaten or not. I needed to seem harmless.

  Maybelline sauntered over with a glass of tea in one hand and water in the other. Her usual carrot-orange hair had a redder tint than usual, and her blue waitress dress was stained with something brown. She set the tea in front of me and the water in front of Clementine, then put a hand on her hip. “What can I get you girls?”

  “Nothing for me,” I said, “but Clementine’s hungry, and I’m paying.”

  Clementine’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she ordered a club sandwich and fries along with a Coke.

  Maybelline turned to go back to the kitchen, but I called out, “Bring me a nonsweet tea, please.”

  She stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “There’s only one kind of tea, Summer Baumgartner, and that’s the kind you have in front of ya. Don’t you dare suggest something they serve out in Cal-eh-forn-I-ay.” She butchered the pronunciation of California with a lot of attitude before stomping back into the kitchen with a huff.

  I cringed, but a genuine smile spread across Clementine’s face. “That’s sure to make the Facebook page,” she said.

  Her comment sobered me. “And so is me meetin’ you here. Are you okay with that?”

  She shrugged. “They don’t know what we’re talkin’ about.”

  “But some people might figure it out.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Like Trent? I don’t care. I just don’t want my boss to figure out I was at that party on a weeknight. Or that I showed up to work this mornin’ still stoned. I like my job. I don’t want to lose it.”

  I wasn’t sure I’d want a stoned employee watching my kids, but I sure wasn’t going to heap any judgment on her. I wanted answers. “I won’t tell anyone what we discuss here.”

  “Even your camerapeople?”

  I hesitated. “Not specifically, but I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m looking for leads, and I plan to follow up on anything you tell me that might be helpful. I’ll keep your name out of it as much as I can, and I won’t use your name on camera unless you give me express permission. Are you okay with all that?”

  She swiped at the condensation on her glass, staring at it for a moment or two before she nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

  “How long have you known Dixie?”

  She looked up and smiled. “Since kindergarten. Dixie has always been bigger than life, ya know?”

  I smiled back. “Yeah. I do.”

  “Back then she wasn’t scared of nothin’, and she refused to take crap from bullies. She’d stand up to anyone.” She dropped her hand from the glass. “I think that’s why Troy couldn’t get a handle on her.”

  “You mean Trent,” I said.

  “No. Troy. Trent’s brother.”

  A cold shiver went down my back. “Troy? What are you talking about?”

  “Troy couldn’t stand Dixie, although no one knew. He hid it well.”

  “Before or after the fire?” I asked, my fingers numb.

  “Oh . . . before. Troy was long gone by the time Dixie came home from her time at juvie.”

  “So you could tell he didn’t like Dixie, but everyone else thought he did?”

  “I’m not sure anyone gave it much thought, to be honest. Troy and his friends were three years older than us, so they didn’t hang out with us much. But sometimes when Troy and Trent’s parents were gone, they’d throw joint parties. It was at one of those parties that she fell onto his radar.”

  “What happened?”

  She shrugged again, starting to look uncomfortable. “Maybe you should talk to Dixie about this.”

  I swallowed, my stomach in knots. “She gave me permission to talk to people about her. We want to get to the bottom of things, one way or the other.”

  Her dark-brown eyes searched my face, as if trying to gauge my seriousness, then she nodded. “Everybody was drunk and high, and things got a little crazy.”

  “Back when you were in high school? At a party at the Dunbar ranch?”

  A wry grin twisted her lips. “I’ve always found it funny that they insist on callin’ it a ranch. Like we were in the Wild West.”

  “So what happened at the ranch?”

  “Troy was hittin’ on some girl, only she was so drunk, she didn’t say no.”

  “He raped her?” I said, my mouth going dry.

  “No. It didn’t get that far. Dixie realized what was happening and put a stop to it. Troy didn’t like it one bit, and he got physical with her, saying she could take her place instead. Then he started to haul her to his room.”

  “Oh, my God . . .”

  Clementine’s eyes flew wide, and she covered my hand on the table with her own. “Oh, no. He didn’t do it. Dixie stopped him before he even reached the hall. Teddy had taught her a bunch of self-defense moves, and she brought Troy to his knees—literally—and made him beg for mercy before she let him go. When she did, I thought Troy was gonna backhand her, but Trent stopped him. And that’s when Trent and Dixie became a thing.”

  “And she was fifteen?”

  “Yeah. It was only a month or so before the fire.”

  “Troy graduated with Teddy. Wasn’t Troy in college at the time?”

  She made a face. “Troy was an on-and-off-again student. Plus, he didn’t go to college right away. He stayed home to ‘find himself’”—she used air quotes—“but it was more like ‘get himself in trouble.’ He went to college the next year, and everyone was sure that his daddy made him leave so he wouldn’t get arrested anymore.”

  My mind was spinning with wild ideas. “What do you know about the barn fire?”

  Clementine squirmed. “Only what Dixie’s told me.” But the way she said it made me believe she was fudging the truth.

  “Which is?”

  “That she and Trent were partying, and she blacked out. When she came to, she reeked of gasoline, and the barn was on fire.”

  “And where was Trent?”

  She gave me a questioning look. “I don’t know. Dixie never said.”

  “Did you believe Dixie started the fire?”

  “Everyone said she did . . .”

  I heard the hesitation in her voice. “But?”

  “But it just didn’t seem like her. She loved her parents and grandfather. She never would have intentionally hurt them, even if she was high. Even if she wasn’t thinking it would kill them. The drugs changed her, but never like that.”

  “You said the drugs changed her. How so?”

  “You know. Typical user stuff. Sneaky. Secretive. She got a bit of an attitude, but that was Trent’s influence. Still, I never would have suspected she was capable of arson, especially at the farm.”

  “And you never questioned the official story?”

  “Luke was so sure she did it,” she said with an innocent earnestness. “And Dixie believed it too.”

  I felt sick to my stomach. “Where was Troy the night of the fire?” I asked. “If he hated Dixie, he could have set her up. He was the one who gave Trent the drugs that night.”

  “I don’t know, probably around.”

  He must have had an alibi if Luke had let him off, but I kept my thoughts to myself. I had learned my lesson about blurting out suspicions.

  But Clementine must have figured out where my head was going, because her mouth dropped open. “You think Troy started it?”

  “Was he ever a suspect?”

  “Not as far as I know, but I was a kid, you know? I wasn’t payin’ much attention to anyone but Dixie.”

  “He’d sure have a motive,” I said, then a thought hit me. “Wait. You said no one suspected he didn’t like Dixie. How could that be after she humiliated him like that
?”

  “That one’s easy,” she said. “Once she started hangin’ around with Trent, Troy publicly forgave her and said she was a perfect fit for the Dunbar family. Everyone believed him.”

  “But not you?”

  “Nah. Troy was known for his grudges.”

  Which made him suspect number one for the barn fire. But I still had no idea who’d drugged Dixie the night before. I could rule out Troy since he was dead. “Did you know that Trent visited Dixie at juvie?” I asked.

  “No,” she said with a look of surprise. “But she never wanted to talk about those two years.”

  “Do you think Trent loved Dixie?”

  She chuckled, but it sounded bitter. “Trent Dunbar loves one person—Trent Dunbar. He’s incapable of loving anyone else.”

  So then why was he so loyal to Dixie? But the answer hit me as soon as I asked myself the question. Guilt—not because he’d supplied the drugs, but because his brother had started the fire and set Dixie up to take the fall for hurting her own family.

  Now I had to prove it.

  Maybelline emerged from the kitchen with two plates and slid them onto the table—a sandwich and fries for Clementine and an order of fries for me.

  “I didn’t order these,” I said.

  Maybelline rolled her eyes. “Girl, you need more meat on those bones. Eat the fries.”

  “We’ve already been over this, Maybelline. I have to watch my weight for my job.”

  “You’ve already got a job,” she said, crossing her arms over her ample breasts. “You’ve got two of them—that show and your PI office—and neither one of them say you have to look like a damn toothpick. Now eat.”

  I jumped, picked up a fry, and stuffed it into my mouth while she watched with narrowed eyes. As soon as the fry was in my mouth, she gave me a curt nod and dropped her arms. “That’s a good start. Now keep goin’.”

  I ate another fry as she headed into the back, then turned to see Clementine watching me with fear in her eyes.

  “She scares me.”

  I grinned. “She scares me too.”

  I let Clementine devour half her sandwich before I resumed asking questions. “Can you tell me what you remember about last night at Trent’s party?”

  Her gaze dropped to her plate. “Like what?”

  “Like when you got there and what happened. What you remember about Dixie.”

  “It started pretty late—not weekend late—but late for a work night. A lot of us were sayin’ we needed to head home, but no one did.”

  “What time did the party start?”

  “About nine.”

  “And why didn’t all y’all leave?” I asked.

  “Because Trent can hold a grudge too, and he said we were all a bunch of pussies. We knew if we left, he’d likely never invite us again.”

  “So what were y’all doin’?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “You know, partyin’.”

  “Was there a bonfire?”

  She made a face that suggested my question was ridiculous. “While it wasn’t that warm last night, it was far too hot for a fire.”

  “So there wasn’t a fire of any kind?” I asked.

  Her gaze narrowed. “Why do you keep askin’ about a fire? Is it because April Jean’s trailer caught fire?”

  I wasn’t about to tell her Dixie had smelled like smoke. “Just curious. So y’all showed up around nine?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you sat around and partied.”

  “Basically.”

  “On Trent’s property.”

  “At the pond behind his house.”

  “His parents didn’t mind?”

  She gave me a wry grin. “Typical Dunbar party—his parents weren’t home. Business trip.”

  “Who was there?”

  She gave me a leery glance.

  “Dixie already gave me a list,” I said, pulling out my phone. “How about I read it to you and you can tell me if I’m missing someone.”

  “Okay . . .” But I could tell she wasn’t happy about it.

  I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “No one will know I got any names from you. I’ll say I got them all from Dixie, and for all we know, I already have the entire guest list.”

  She gave me a hesitant nod.

  “Gabby Casey and Mark Willis.”

  She nodded again. “They were fightin’ like cats and dogs. Mark’s jealous as shit over Trent, and Gabby’s jealous of April Jean.”

  “Who was also there.”

  “Oh, yeah. She was hangin’ on Trent like a sock out of the dryer.”

  “And how did Dixie react to that?”

  She fiddled with a fry on her plate, then looked up at me. “Do you think Dixie started April Jean’s fire?”

  Her question caught me off guard. “Do you?”

  “No . . . but she started the barn fire, and she was acting so weird last night.”

  “How so?”

  “She was ticked at April Jean for hangin’ on Trent, and irritated at Trent for lettin’ her, but she really got mad when he started givin’ out drugs.”

  “Has he done that before?”

  “Never when she was around. He’s been weird about drugs around her. He’ll drink like a fish but no drugs. Until last night.”

  “So what made last night different?”

  “I don’t know. He said something weird like he didn’t owe her shit anymore. She got upset, and he told her to chill. She wanted to go home, but he refused to take her.”

  I wanted to beat the crap out of him.

  “And no one offered to take her instead?” I asked, irritation bleeding into my words.

  A guilty look washed over her face. “Like I said, no one wanted to tick him off.”

  “Why? What’s so damn special about Trent Dunbar?”

  Her face reddened. “He’s gonna take over Dunbar Lumber someday.”

  Money.

  The guilt in her eyes increased. “We’re the inner circle. We were his friends back in high school, and he hasn’t forgotten us.”

  And here I’d somewhat respected her for being Dixie’s friend. “So back to last night . . . Dixie got upset, and Trent gave her a Coke, told her to chill, and proceeded to ignore her. Then she got into a disagreement with April Jean.”

  Clementine frowned. “Yes and no.”

  “What’s the no part?”

  “After she had her fight with Trent, she went inside to go to the bathroom. She was gone for about ten minutes, so I thought maybe she’d left. When she came back out, she had red eyes like she’d been crying, but she seemed different.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “When she went inside, she seemed defeated, but when she came out, she had her fire back, you know? Like she wasn’t takin’ crap from anyone. That’s why she got into it with April Jean. April Jean was giving Dixie shit about Trent, and Dixie said she could have him.”

  That fell in line with what Dixie had told me, other than the going-inside part. “Did she take her drink with her inside?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  I leaned forward again. “No guessing. I need to know who had access to Dixie’s drink.”

  “I was kind of out of it, you know?”

  She was stoned, but it wouldn’t do me any good to point that out. I needed every piece of information I could get. “This is really important. Trent handed Dixie the Coke, and then what? She sat down?”

  “Yeah, and she was holding it against her chest until she went inside.”

  “That’s helpful,” I said, trying to soften my words. “She had the drink when she came back out?”

  “Yeah. She sat down again and took a few sips before setting it on the ground next to her chair.”

  “Could someone have picked it up?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe. About ten minutes later, she got into it with April Jean. Then she sat down and fell asleep in her chair. She was still there when I left.”

  “And when was that?” />
  “I don’t know . . . around midnight. I told Trent I had to be at work, and then he finally agreed to let me and some of the others go.”

  Agreed to let her go. Really? “You didn’t think to take Dixie home?” I asked, trying to hide my outrage.

  Her shoulders stiffened. “I was goin’ to, but Trent said he’d do it.”

  I really needed to have another talk with Trent. “How many other people were at the party? Who were they?”

  “About twelve or so.” She took a breath as if gathering her courage. “Monica and Blane Hyde. Rebecca Smelt. Matt Greenwood. And Amelia. Oh, and Rick Springfield.” She paused. “That’s it.”

  That lined up with the list Dixie had given me. Neither of them had mentioned Nash Jackson. “What about Rick’s cousin?”

  Her eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Why would Rick’s cousin show up at Trent’s party?”

  Her tone indicated she was talking about the bald one Amber had mentioned. “Not Herbert. Nash.”

  “Who’s Nash?”

  Why had no one heard of this guy? I shook my head. “Rick’s cousin, Nash Jackson, has been hanging around, and no one seems to know who he is. Could he have been there?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe . . . ? Rick didn’t stay long. He showed up early but left while Dixie was in the bathroom.”

  “Rick was in the house while Dixie was there?”

  “He may not have gone in the house. Most of us use the gate at the side of the house. The Dunbars added one of those fancy iron fences a few years back.”

  “But he could have gone inside.” And if Dixie had left her drink on a counter or table, he would have had access to drug her. But why drug her if he was leaving? So far I had more questions than answers. “Who was still there when you left?”

  “Amelia. And Gabby and Mark. Wait . . . ,” she said, her eyes widening. “Bruce showed up around the time I was leavin’.”

  “Bruce Jepper?” He wasn’t on Dixie’s list, but then he wouldn’t have been if he’d arrived after she lost consciousness.

  “Yeah. He looked pissed and drunk, but his house had just burned down, so who could blame him? We met him in the driveway, and he wanted to know where he could find Trent. He was talking about a poker game.”

  “How did Bruce feel about Dixie?”

  “They dated for a bit. It didn’t end well.” She grimaced. “That happens a lot with Dixie.”