Out of the Ashes

by Anne Galbraith

  Sarah braked. “I’ll wait here while you make sure he’s home.”

  He appreciated that she wanted to ensure someone was there to let him in. And that Lanford was welcome. He’d been surprised to be invited to the man’s house.

  If he wasn’t invited in to the house, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. He didn’t expect he’d be welcome at her lunch with another cop.

  He felt Sarah watching him as he climbed the steps and knocked on the door. There was a note posted, warning visitors that they needed to wait. Lanford was patient. Eventually the door was opened by a wizened man in a wheelchair.

  “Lanford?” the man verified.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Come on in.” The wheelchair backed away. Lanford opened the screen door and turned to wave at Sarah. He watched her car drive away and then stepped into the house.

  “I wouldn’t have recognized you. You’ve grown.”

  Lanford found the man in the chair to be a stranger, as well. His memories of Mr. Dawson were of a strong, broad figure with a booming laugh.

  A lifetime away from the man in front of him.

  “I didn’t recognize you, either.”

  “Time has been kinder to you than to me. Come on in, sit.”

  “Thank you.” Lanford chose a chair where he could watch his host.

  “My grandson made some coffee, and you’re welcome to help yourself. It’s in that carafe. Meanwhile, you said you wanted to talk about your father. What did you want to know?”

  Lanford met Dawson’s eyes. He could see a trace of the former man in those eyes, intelligent and confident.

  “I didn’t set the fire that killed my family. I’m trying to find out who did. I hoped you could tell me if there was anyone who might have had a grudge against my father.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sarah arrived at the restaurant before Chad. She’d allowed extra time to drop Lanford off in case of problems, whether with traffic or directions. She found a table and ordered coffee to keep herself busy. She was reading on her phone when a loud “Sarah!” reverberated through the restaurant.

  Sarah looked up with a grin. “Chad!”

  “Give me a hug! I haven’t seen your pretty face for ages!”

  Sarah found herself squeezed in an embrace. “You know, you could come out to the country for a visit if you wanted to.”

  Chad sat down across from her. “Kids are keeping us busy. How are you doing in Nowhere, PA?”

  Sarah always teased Chad that because of his name, he should be a WASPY New Englander, star of the rowing team and now in business with his father and grandfather. Instead, he was a Black former linebacker, who never left the city unless he had to and had been a cop since he left Penn State.

  “It’s quiet. I was called out to a protest, though.”

  He grinned at her. “Oh, yeah? Did you have to call for backup?”

  “It was about a dozen high school kids with homemade signs on the lawn of their church.”

  His laugh boomed out again.

  “That’s what you have for excitement out there? Maybe I should think of transferring.”

  “I’m not sure the local football team is good enough for your boys. Balsam Grove is pretty quiet, so I’m not sure if I’m going to stay past this year.”

  “You’ll always be welcomed back, Sarah.”

  She shrugged. Not everyone agreed. Some people thought she was too much like her grandfather.

  “So, you have some information for me.”

  Chad let her redirect the conversation.

  “Yeah, let’s order, then we can get into that.”

  While they waited for their food, Chad caught her up on the hijinks his kids had been up to. Sarah told him about her crack police dog, Festus. Chad laughed uproariously at her description.

  After their food was served, Chad brought up the topic.

  “You wanted information on Riordan Davies. He died in your town, a house fire that killed his father, as well. His brother went down for that.”

  Sarah nodded.

  “It was an open-and-shut case. Why are you looking into it now?”

  “The brother just got out.”

  “Is he causing trouble?”

  “Not yet.”

  Chad’s eyebrows rose.

  “He doesn’t look like he wants any trouble. He’s done his time, doesn’t want to go back. He’s staying at a local church, working there. But he says he’s innocent and wants to find out the truth. If he’s right, someone out there might find him to be a lot of trouble.”

  “Sarah, prison is full of innocent men, if you listen to them talk.”

  “Yes, Chad, I’m aware of this.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “How many of them want to prove it after they get out?”

  “If they think they have a shot, and can get a big cash settlement, a few.”

  “That isn’t what he wants, I’m reasonably confident.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “There’s no indication that the police made any major mistakes when they processed the case. The evidence is circumstantial, but there’s no one else who fits. He’s not pursuing a settlement.”

  “So, what’s his angle?”

  “He claims he was set up. Either someone was after his dad or brother, or their property, or Lanford himself.”

  Chad appeared to consider as he chewed. “What’s he going to do if he’s right and finds this mystery arsonist?”

  “I plan to be there to take care of it. If someone else did this, I’ll arrest them, gather the evidence and then pass it on. Same as any other case.”

  “Be careful. If your guy is right, someone has gotten away with murder for almost twenty years. They aren’t going to be happy to be exposed now. You could find yourself in danger.”

  Sarah swirled a fry around on her plate. “I have to find them first. There hasn’t been much to go on yet. What’s up with Riordan? Any help there?”

  Chad leaned back in his seat. “People still remember Dan Davies, or Riordan. I heard a lot about him. Not sure it’s going to help you, though.”

  * * *

  After getting the update on Riordan, Sarah stopped to pick up a few things at the city stores that carried products she couldn’t find in Balsam Grove. It was nice to dawdle in the familiar spaces, anonymous in the city.

  It was also nice to treat herself to the minor luxuries she enjoyed—her favorite bodywash, the cookies she had a weakness for.

  Besides, she had time to kill. She didn’t want to arrive too early to pick up Lanford.

  It was midafternoon when she stopped in front of the same address where she’d dropped him off. She rolled down her window and prepared to wait for a while if necessary. She wasn’t in a hurry to return to Balsam Grove. It was a nice day, and she was happy to relax, let her mind work through the problem of his case while she watched the neighborhood.

  Kids were coming home from school, loud and pleased to be free. The trees were in full leaf by now, and the light was filtered through the shades of green. The noises of a family neighborhood took her back to her childhood, a happy place.

  Sarah was relaxed, smiling.

  After about fifteen minutes, Lanford came out the front door. The same man in the wheelchair waved him off. Lanford spotted her car in front of the house and walked quickly to meet her.

  “I’m sorry. Am I late?”

  Sarah shook her head. “No, I was early, and it was a nice day, so I was just enjoying it. How’d it go?”

  Lanford opened the door and sat down, pulling the door shut.

  “It was...good and bad. Depending on how you look at it.”

  “Sounds interesting. Do you want to update me on the way?”

  “Sure. How was your lunch?”

  Sarah moved her head from side to side. �
��I guess, also good and bad, depending on how you look at it.”

  They were soon on the highway again.

  “I had a nice lunch, caught up with my friend and did some shopping. From Chad I learned that your brother was universally liked.”

  Lanford smiled. “He always was. He was a great guy.”

  “Which is good, except that we were hoping to find a reason someone set that fire. Chad found nothing to support the theory that your brother was the target. Dan didn’t date a lot, and never someone else’s girlfriend. He didn’t cheat on tests, do drugs or step out of line at all.”

  Lanford shifted in his seat. “Yeah, Dan would never do that.”

  “There was no sign that your brother’s scholarship was actively pursued by anyone else. It eventually went to a kid from Canada, but it took a while to get that settled. The track coach said no one on campus jumped on it.

  “The coach also loved your brother and was very sorry about what happened.”

  There was silence in the car, except for the sound of tires on pavement and the movement of the air coming from the vents.

  “It was always going to be a long shot, that there was anyone who wanted to hurt Dan.”

  “Was he a good brother, too?”

  Lanford nodded. “He was great. After Mom died, Dad spaced out. We understood—Mom was really special, and we all missed her. Dan did his best to hold everything together. He wasn’t a great cook, but he tried. He reminded Dad of things he was supposed to do, and anytime I wanted to talk to him, he was there.

  “But he was offered that scholarship, and he had to take it. He checked with me, but I told him to go. It was hard to be at home without him, but he did a lot for me. He deserved something for himself.”

  Sarah was an only child, but she’d wanted a sibling. One like Riordan Davies would have been incredible.

  “My neighbor, the teacher, says you got in a lot of trouble after your brother went to school.”

  Lanford stared at the passing scenery.

  “I was a kid. My dad was gone a lot, and even when he was home, he wasn’t really there. I think I was trying to get his attention. And I was angry, a lot. Angry that Mom died, that Dan left...and sometimes, so help me, I was angry at Dan. It was hard to live up to him. When he was around, that didn’t bother me, but when he was gone, everyone kept telling me I wasn’t like Dan.

  “Being a stupid kid, I decided to do everything Dan wouldn’t. Your neighbor would probably tell you I succeeded.”

  “He said you got in trouble, but he also said he felt badly that you were left alone so much.”

  “That was generous of him.”

  Sarah shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe it was the truth.”

  * * *

  It was unsettling to have your past upended over and over again. Lanford was the bad kid in town, the one everyone was glad to see the back of. He believed he’d deserved that label.

  Now he was rethinking his past. Perhaps he hadn’t been as alone as he’d assumed. Maybe he could have changed his path if he’d known.

  That didn’t help, not here and not now. The only thing he could do was discover the truth of the crime that had taken his home, his family and his freedom. That was more than enough to keep him busy, without a lot of introspection.

  Still, he was glad Sarah was hearing some good things about him.

  “What did Mr. Dawson have to say?”

  Lanford pulled his mind out of fantasyland and returned to the practical present.

  “He liked Dad.”

  “That’s what’s good and bad?”

  He looked over at Sarah and shrugged. “He couldn’t come up with any reason that someone would want to hurt, or kill Dad or Dan.

  “He was positive Dad didn’t pick up any contraband on his routes. That was one idea I had—you mentioned it, too. No one wanted to take over his routes, either. Most of the people working for him preferred to do the shorter trips.”

  His dad had taken those long hauls on, the ones that kept him away from home. Lanford understood that his dad had been having trouble with his mom’s death, but it hurt to know his dad could have been around more, helped him. He’d chosen his own grief over his sons.

  “That means there was no reason for the fire from your dad’s side, either.”

  Lanford shook his head. He’d asked Mr. Dawson if there were any personal reasons that might be behind it. It was difficult to imagine his father involved with anyone when he gave every impression of being gutted by his wife’s death, but he’d asked.

  As expected, the answer had been no.

  “It was nice of him to talk to you. Did you tell him why you were asking?”

  “I did. I’m making an effort to be honest with everyone. He said he’d like to think that my dad’s kid was a better person than an arsonist and wished me luck. He just couldn’t provide any help.

  “He even said, if I cleared myself, that he’d see about me getting a job.”

  Sarah shot him a quick glance.

  “That was kind of him.”

  “It was. He said if I could be half as good a driver as my dad, the company would be happy to have me.”

  “So, a dead end, same as my talk with Chad.”

  “And like the storage facility.”

  Sarah changed lanes to pass a slow driver. She drove carefully and competently, her gaze rarely shifting from the road in front of her.

  It gave him the opportunity to watch her, which he enjoyed more than he should.

  She was pretty, rather than beautiful, but there was a warmth to her that Lanford found appealing. She was kind and considerate to everyone. He’d been working in the church when she’d come to check on the kids protesting. He’d tensed, prepared for something unpleasant to happen.

  It hadn’t.

  She’d given him a chance to prove himself, and he wasn’t sure, despite his intentions to be Christlike, that he would have done the same.

  He wondered why she’d come to Balsam Grove. She hadn’t complained about city traffic or pollution. She sounded bored with the work in Balsam Grove. Yet she was here.

  It was another sign, to Lanford at least, that God was supporting him in his efforts to clear his name and find the person who’d actually set the fire eighteen years ago. Ron Harding wouldn’t have helped him. In fact, at the idea he’d be proven wrong, he’d have done whatever he could to block Lanford’s efforts.

  She was a puzzle. A pretty, appealing puzzle.

  She turned and caught him staring. He felt his cheeks heat.

  “I appreciate you doing this, taking this effort for me.”

  “There’s a good restaurant at the next exit. Want to stop for a bite?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sarah had flushed when she’d found Lanford staring at her. Chad had had good cause to remind her that she had to be objective.

  But Lanford’s gaze had been admiring, and she hadn’t responded with objectivity.

  She hadn’t wanted to go home and have another frozen dinner in front of the TV with Festus. She liked the idea of spending more time with Lanford. When he’d greeted her suggestion of a meal with apparent pleasure, she’d wanted to smack herself on the head. And then give herself a high five.

  Instead, she was sitting across the table from him, waiting for their burgers and wondering what she was supposed to talk to him about. In spite of that, there was a bubble of pleasure generating a smile on her face.

  “Thank you for your help.”

  Fortunately Lanford was taking all this as part of the investigation.

  “No, it’s fine. I’m glad to use my brain for something heavier than the crossword puzzle. I’m just sorry that we haven’t made any headway.”

  He gave her an intense look. She wanted to know what he was thinking. She was probably better off not knowing.

>   She needed to get her mind on the case, pronto.

  “We’ve gone through most of the obvious reasons why someone might have set the fire. I started to look for other, stranger reasons.”

  That intense expression on Lanford’s face was gone, and she refused to admit disappointment. She still had all his attention, but now he seemed curious.

  “What kind of strange reasons did you come up with?”

  Their server brought their plates and offered additional pepper and drinks. When he was gone, she continued.

  “I considered whether there might be another monetary reason. Maybe your father was in somebody’s will, and he was killed so some other person would inherit.”

  Lanford swallowed his bite. “But I’m still here.”

  Sarah waved a hand. “I said these were strange ones. But yes, the fact that you weren’t dragged back into the house to die but set up to take the blame blows that one out of the water.”

  A smile tugged at Lanford’s lips, which was an odd way to respond to the mention of his potential death. But then, he’d already considered if he’d been meant to die. And it was no odder than the way Sarah’s stomach flipped at his smile.

  “That sounds like a plot out of a book.”

  “I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel here, so all of the ideas sound like they came from a book.”

  “What else?”

  “A lottery ticket. Your dad or brother bought a winning ticket with someone who didn’t want to share.”

  Lanford frowned. “I guess that’s possible.”

  “I did some research on that. I researched lottery winners from around that time frame. I can’t find any connection to your family, or Balsam Grove, or even Penn State.”

  “How would you ever prove that?”

  Sarah shrugged. “If I had a good lead, I could try to find where the suspect was on the night of the fire. But I can’t look for an alibi for everyone who won the lottery. In theory, your dad could have bought the ticket while he was on a work trip, and then it could be almost anywhere in America.”