by Ann Mullen
“You mean, because of the fire at Jonathan’s place?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve thought about that.” I hesitated for just a second, and then confidently said, “I think I can handle it. Besides, Jonathan has rebuilt his house. It’s not too sad anymore.”
“I just wanted to warn you.”
“I’m going to be okay.”
Billy spoke the truth. The scene at Flo’s burned-out office was depressing. All I expected to see was a pile of rubble, but instead, I saw the destruction of a part of someone’s life. I felt sad and angry—angry at the person who did this.
Mom had once told me that Flo’s office used to be her residence. Flo and her husband bought the house right after they got married. She started doing tax returns, made a lot of money, and then they bought a bigger house. The house on Coyote Road was paid for, so they kept it and turned it into her place of business.
The sign out by the road that advertised her business was the only thing left unscathed by the fire. The spot where the house once stood had been replaced by a pile of blackened rubble. All that was left of what used to be a kitchen was a charred refrigerator and sink. A bathroom toilet and claw foot bathtub lay close by. Several feet to the right, three metal filing cabinets lay twisted and distorted from the intense heat. Everything else was unrecognizable debris.
We sifted through the ashes, looking for any clue that would help us determine who might’ve done this and why, but it was useless. It was obvious the place had burned up rather quickly. The heat must’ve been extremely intense. It reminded me of the time Jonathan’s house went up in flames. Everything was black and smelled awful. Even the grass around the place was burned to a crisp.
“Gasoline,” Billy mumbled. “Whoever did this used gasoline.”
“How can you tell?”
“From the intense heat. When you use gas or a flammable liquid, it goes up in a flash.” Billy scanned the scene. He walked over to a pile of black rubble and kicked it with his foot. Then he bent down and picked up a clump of something hard. He held it out for me to see.
“What’s that?”
“Plastic. When plastic cools what’s left turns into a hard mass.”
“You’re so smart.”
He walked around, bending down occasionally to pick up something.
“Find anything important?”
“Nothing, but then arson isn’t my expertise.”
“I don’t know the first thing about sifting through the remains of a fire. I don’t know what’s what. All I know is that it smells awful, and it’s nasty. And it’s so sad to lose everything like this.”
“An arson investigator can go into a fire zone and tell you exactly how it started, because it doesn’t take long for them to figure it out.”
“I’m not an arson investigator. Perhaps we should talk with him.”
“Why bother? We know the place was torched. It wasn’t an accidental fire. All we need to do is find out who set the fire.”
“Why don’t we just go over to Downer Rhodes’ house and ask him?”
I tried to block out the sight of Flo’s burned down house. I wanted to talk about something that would take the place of the images in my head… if only for a little while.
Chapter 5
As we climbed back into Billy’s truck and started heading out, I turned to him and asked, “What kind of name is Downer? I’d really like to know why his parents named him that. Was it because they were bummed out to have him? Was he unplanned… a disappointment... an albatross?” I chuckled.
“That’s not his real name. It’s a nickname he acquired in college.”
“Why? Because he was a downer to be around?” I laughed again.
“Pretty much. His friends gave him that name because he refused to smoke pot or party with them. His given name is Donald. They called him Donald the downer. Eventually, they dropped the Donald and just called him Downer.”
“He was straight-laced,” I retorted. “How did you find out that?”
“At one time, he shared a dorm room with Bart Lexington, one of Jonathan’s friends. Bart told him that Downer dated a girl named Jacque in college, and when she broke up with him, someone set fire to a trash can in her dorm room. Luckily, she returned in time to put it out before it could spread. Bart asked Downer if he knew anything about it, but Downer denied having any knowledge of what happened to his ex-girlfriend. Bart didn’t believe him, but there was nothing he could do. He didn’t have any proof, and Downer had an alibi. He claimed to be with someone else at the time. Bart also said that Downer made a reference about the fire being a message, and that Jacque should heed it. She should’ve never broken up with him.”
“Downer likes to send messages.”
“Apparently. Bart said he would’ve never thought anything about the message comment, except that he remembered a harmless stunt they pulled awhile back, and it was Downer who said they were doing it to send a message.”
“Flo might be on to something. The break-in at her office, and then the fire—maybe Downer is sending her a message.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Let’s go visit our firebug.”
“All in good time, my dear,” Billy replied. “All in good time.”
Flo and Mick Garner’s house was located in the new South River Estates housing development on Rt. 230, just a few miles from her office. It was a huge three story house with lots of windows. The double front door led to a foyer the size of a master bedroom, and from there, it got even better. The winding staircase to the right looked like something one would see in the movies. I found it hard to relate to the idea of a small, demure woman such as Flo, living in a house that was so ostentatious. She didn’t seem like the type who liked overdone things that were meant to impress people, especially when it came to her home. I pictured her as an easygoing woman, living in a cabin in the woods, plowing a garden, and feeding chickens. She was too much of an everyday person to live in such grandiose surroundings. But here she was. That just goes to show that not everything is as it seems.
When we arrived at Flo’s, everyone was in an uproar. Flo paced back and forth while ranting about Sheriff Hudson. She was amazed that he could even tie his shoe laces, and seriously doubted that he knew how. Her husband, Mick, followed her about, trying to get her to calm down.
“Her blood pressure is probably off the charts,” Mick said. He shook hands with Billy and then me. “Come on in. I’m so glad you two are here. Maybe you can calm her down. She’s going to have a stroke if she doesn’t settle down. She’s so upset, she’s losing it. Look at her!”
Flo walked over, gave me a hug and said, “I’m sorry I’m behaving so badly, but I’m just so mad at Sheriff Hudson. He can be such a twit. Would you like a drink?”
“Ah… no, not right now,” I replied, wondering what kind of drink she was talking about… but wouldn’t ask. It was only midday. She surely didn’t mean anything alcoholic, did she?
She gave me the guided tour, talking the whole time. Billy and Mick followed behind us, listening, and saying very little. Flo didn’t give any of us a chance to say much. Once she started talking, that was it. Rarely, did she stop to take a breath.
“We built this house with the intention of giving it to our daughter,” Flo said as she showed us the living room, and then her exceptional kitchen. “You remember Gone with the Wind, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Well… Darby loved Tara Plantation as a child. She said she wanted a house just like that when she got older. We don’t have the columns out front on the porch, and if you take out all the outlandish windows, she’s got her Tara. She goes to James Madison University over in Harrisonburg. Did you know that, Jesse?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“We’re building a much smaller house on Entry Run Road not far from here. Once she graduates, she gets this house. Boy, will I be glad! This place is way too big for Mick and me.”
Our next stop was the guest bathroom�
�� then an office… family room…den, another bathroom… a video room the size of a small arcade, and finally the last room on the first floor. They had a massive library that could very well make anyone envious. I know it did me. Desks, tables, two sofas, and two overstuffed chairs were on the left, and to the right was computer heaven.
“Wow!” I said, looking around. “This is impressive!”
Flo walked over to a computer, pointed at it and said, “Everything I had on my computers at work is backed up right here.” She pointed to a painting of Thomas Jefferson on the wall. “Behind that painting is a safe, and in that safe is another back up unit that stores my stuff the minute I hit Save. So, you see, I didn’t lose any of my data in the fire.” She turned around and looked at her husband. “I bet that rat fink Downer Rhodes doesn’t know that! Ha! Ha! The joke’s on him!”
“Flo, I told you to stop calling him that! It sure would be embarrassing if you slipped and called him that at a party.”
Flo’s face turned red. She marched over to Mick, shook her finger at him, and then said angrily, “If you think I’m going to socialize with that killer ever again, you’re sadly mistaken. He killed his partner, and he burned down my business!”
“You don’t know that for sure, honey.” Mick was quickly backtracking. He knew not to argue with his wife when she was mad. He looked at us. “See… this is how she gets now when she talks about Mr. Rhodes.”
“Mr. Rhodes!” she hissed. “Don’t call him Mister. He doesn’t deserve the title. He should be called Killer Rhodes! He’s a madman!”
I chuckled.
Billy and Mick both shot me an unhappy look.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Please don’t encourage her,” Mick pleaded. “She’ll never shut up.”
That comment set Flo off. She paced back and forth as she made derogatory comments about the man she had come to despise. Her voice got louder, quickly.
“Stop!” I said as I stepped out in front of her. “Don’t let this man win, Flo. If you drop dead from a heart attack, he will. If he really is out to kill you, you’ll be doing him a favor.”
She stopped and thought for a minute before saying, “You’re absolutely right, Jesse. I refuse to give him the satisfaction. You get me some evidence on him. I want him to burn just like my house.”
“We’ll do a little checking,” Billy said. “I want to see what the sheriff has, and then we’ll talk with the arson investigator. We should know more by the end of the day.”
“Don’t count on them to get to the truth,” Flo said. “The sheriff’s in the dark and that arson investigator can only tell you how the fire started—not who started it.”
“We’ll see,” Billy offered. “I know both men quite well, and I can promise you that they are very good at what they do. Together, we’ll get to the truth. I can promise you that.”
“I guess you’re right,” Flo agreed softly as if she was going to choke up. “Sheriff Hudson is a good man. He does the best he can, and he does it by the book. I don’t know the other fellow, but if you say he’s good then I believe you. That’s why I hired you in the first place. Minnie was right—I feel as if I can count on you two. I don’t care what it costs. I want you to stop Downer Rhodes from killing me. I want to live long enough to have grandchildren.” A few tears slid down her face, and then she regained her composure.
I felt sorry for her… and I felt sorry for Mick. He had to watch his wife live in fear.
“I haven’t told you about my plan,” Flo said as she proceeded to tell us. “I want you to bug Downer’s house. I’ll call him after the bugs are in place, and tell him that I know his little secret. Then we can sit back and listen to what he has to say after I hang up. If he’s guilty, we’ll hear it all.”
Billy and I looked at each other. What she was asking us to do was against the law, but not something we hadn’t done before. Sometimes you have to sidestep the rules to flush out the guilty.
Mick put his arms around his wife’s shoulders and said, “We have only one problem with Flo’s plan. If we pay you to break into Downer’s house and you get caught, will we go to jail? I mean, it’s the same thing as paying someone to kill someone, isn’t it?”
“Murder for hire doesn’t carry the same penalty as hiring someone to break into a place,” Billy replied. “But you don’t have to worry about that. If we decide to do this and get caught, we’re on our own. We would not give you up. You have my word on that.”
“You don’t have to worry about us getting caught,” I added. “This is what we do for a living, and we’re good at it.”
“That’s what your mama says.”
“You told her about your plan?” Billy asked.
“Yes, why?”
“Don’t tell anyone else. The more people who know about what we’re planning to do, the better the chance is for us to get caught.”
“Does that mean you’re going to do it?” Mick asked.
Before Billy had a chance to answer his question, Flo took me by the arm and started heading to the foyer. She was silent the whole way, but I could feel her shake. Once we got to the front door, she stopped and said, “I guess you don’t want to see the upstairs, do you? I’ve been such a bad host.”
“No… no, you haven’t,” I said. “You’ve been a very good host. Thank you for showing us your house. It’s lovely… very nice. Maybe we can see the rest of it next time.”
“We have a few more stops to make before the end of the day,” Billy added. “And the day keeps going, whether or not we do.”
“I know just what you mean,” Flo replied with a smile. “Please call me as soon as you find out anything.” She looked at Mick. “Did you tell Billy about the security we hired?”
“He knows. I told him on the phone.”
“When will they be here?” I asked.
“They should be here soon,” Flo replied, looking at her watch. “We called them first thing this morning, and they promised the detail would arrive by one o’clock.”
“We’ll have two men on guard around the clock,” Mick added. “There will also be a woman bodyguard for Flo.”
“Yep, she’ll go everywhere with me… and she carries a gun.”
“Good,” I said. “I won’t have to worry about you. A bodyguard is the best thing you can have. She’ll make sure that no one gets close to you.”
“We have work to do,” Billy said. “We’ll be leaving now, but you’ll hear from us by the end of the day. I’ll let you know what we’re going to do. If we have to break into Downer’s house, we will.”
Flo looked at Billy and said, “A word of advice—don’t rely on the cops. They’ll let you down every time. Find the person who burned down my office, and then I might be able to sleep at night.”
Billy and I turned to leave, but Flo had one last question for us.
“What will you do if you find out that Downer Rhodes is behind this?”
“With enough evidence, he’ll go to jail,” Billy replied.
“Don’t bet on it,” Flo said. “People like him never do time.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, wondering if she was headed somewhere with her question.
“If he gets caught and doesn’t go to jail, he’ll still be a threat. I want that threat eliminated. I don’t care what it takes.”
Billy and I looked at each other, and then Billy said, “The only thing we do is catch the bad guy. We don’t set the punishment.”
“I didn’t mean that I wanted you to harm him,” Flo said with a chuckle. “All I meant was that I want you to make sure the evidence you get is enough to send him to jail. Something rock solid.”
“That’s why we have to examine all our options,” Billy replied. “I’ll think about your plan, and see what I can come up with.”
Billy and I waved as we walked out the door and headed to the truck.
“That was strange,” I said as I climbed up into the passenger seat. “I thought she wanted us to snuff him
out. Murder-for-hire isn’t part of my job description.”
“She’s scared and probably afraid this will never end until either she’s dead, or he is. She made it clear that she wasn’t asking us to do away with him.”
“Only after we made it clear that we wouldn’t do it. What happens if she decides to take matters into her own hands? She might decide to seek help some other place and hire a hit man. Do you think she might do that?”
“I don’t know, but I do know that people will do almost anything to protect themselves. For example, take your mother. Who would have ever thought she was capable of killing anyone?”
“That was self-defense, and you know it.”
“Right, but who’s to say that Flo won’t seek out Downer, blow him away, and then claim self-defense?”
I had to laugh. “That’s ridiculous,” I said. “Blow him away? You’ve been watching too much television.”
Billy laughed. “I’m not the one who watches all those crime shows.”
“I figure I can learn something from them.”
“Like how to get yourself killed? Real life doesn’t always end on a high note like it does in the movies. A crime isn’t solved in an hour, like they are on television. That’s a joke. Too bad it doesn’t though. ”
After we were on the road again, I asked, “Not to change this interesting lecture on the ills of believing what you see on television, but where are we going? You just passed the Sheriff’s Office. I thought we were going to talk to him.”
“I didn’t see his SUV out front. We’ll call instead.” Billy pulled out his cell phone and made the call. “Hello, Sheriff Hudson. This is Billy. How’s the investigation going? That’s right… Flo Garner.”
The conversation was short. From the way it sounded, Billy wasn’t getting anywhere with the sheriff. When he closed his cell phone, he glanced at me and said, “They don’t have anything yet, but I did get some news about Savannah.”
We were coming to the intersection at Rt. 33 and Rt.29 when Billy had to swerve to keep from hitting a car that tried to pass us. He managed to regain control of the truck and brought it to a stop just in time. We looked around to find the car, but it had disappeared into the heavy traffic.