Fire Angel

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Fire Angel Page 32

by Susanne Matthews


  He gave her a hug. “Okay,” he said. Minette turned and went back out to the inn.

  Alexis’s hopes that the marriage was in trouble plummeted to her feet. Jake turned around and saw her standing there. He grinned.

  “I’m glad you’ve come back,” he said, moving towards her.

  She sidestepped him and moved directly to the coffee table. Did he really think she would pick up where they’d left off? Step into his arms just after his wife had stepped out of them?

  “I forgot my notes,” she answered speaking through the lump that blocked her throat.

  As soon as she retrieved them, she all but ran back to her room. Once inside, she threw herself onto the bed. She would not cry! When this case was over, she would go back home and re-evaluate her priorities. Maybe try one of those online dating sites. She sighed. She had wanted Jake’s kisses and knew he wasn’t immune to her, but there was no way she would step into some ménage. That wasn’t who she was, and no matter what she felt for Jake, she wasn’t going there—ever!

  Letting anger and outrage take over, she changed into her nightgown and climbed into bed, leaving the light on in the bathroom. The tears she insisted she wouldn’t shed started to fall, and powerless to stop them, she let them flow.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The freezing rain tapered off, as promised, but instead of rising as expected, the temperature fell, and the rain turned into blowing snow for the next two days. Jake divided his daylight hours between his responsibilities to the inn and trying to solve the case. As much as he ached to spend more time with Alexis, he moved cautiously.

  Because of the roads, most of the staff who lived in town couldn’t get out to the inn, so Minette had to spend more time in the restaurant’s kitchen. He, Mia, and Alexis ate their meals in the dining room with the guests who remained, stone-faced bodyguards watching them all. Those in the area without power, including Frank and Andrew, used snowmobiles to pick up take out and deliver it to those housebound. Everyone pitched in as well as they could to make this crisis as easy to weather as possible. It was too bad they couldn’t deal with Fire Angel’s threat as easily.

  The visitors stuck here expected to be fed and entertained. Staff shortages were not their problems, and there was no point in trying to excuse lack of service that way.

  Thanks to Frank and his snowmobile, not to mention his hunting acumen, Minette had the fresh game needed to create a variety of Temagami dishes that kept the guests enjoying their unexpected vacation. The inn would take a loss since he couldn’t expect them all to pay full price, but Jim had promised the Temagami Counsel would cover some of the extra costs.

  Each evening, Minette collected Mia from the dining room at six-thirty and took the child back to the apartment for her nightly routine. He and Alexis used that time to finish their coffee and chat with the various guests. When Minette returned to the dining room, it was their cue to go back and babysit while Min got things ready for the following morning.

  In case the child was listening, they avoided discussing the case until they were sure that she was asleep. Instead, they played games or watched a movie from the endless supply he had on hand. Maya had taken to sitting on Alexis’s lap. He would sit there mesmerized by the delicate fingers running through Maya’s coat and imagine them in his hair. Each time he tried to get closer, Alexis would pull away, establishing boundaries he had to respect.

  “What’s eating at you?” he asked, noting how she fidgeted on the sofa across from him. “And don’t say ‘nothing’ because I know you well enough by now to recognize that you’re upset.”

  She huffed out a breath.

  “It’s this damn weather. Every day that we’re stuck here is another day the Fire Angel has to plan and prepare for his next performance. The longer it takes me to understand this man, the smaller the window of opportunity to find him before he strikes a fifth time. I’ve been over the crime scene photos and the information, I’ve read the files, but we still don’t seem to have a viable suspect.” She held up her hand when he tried to interrupt her. “I’m getting nowhere, and I don’t like it.”

  “As you noted the other night, I can’t control the weather,” he apologized. “But there’s something else. What aren’t you asking me?”

  “Fine.” She stood and started to pace, her arms wrapped protectively around herself. “I can’t get my head around the fact that Fire Angel can come and go from here at will. I know Andrew can because he’s your friend as well as your doctor, and Dr. Curtis is the vet, another scent familiar to Maya, but who else has the run of the place? Have you looked at everyone on staff?”

  “I have, and I’ve managed to eliminate all of them, which is driving me as crazy as it is you.” Frustration gave his voice an angry edge.

  “What about Frank?” she asked. “He’s managed to be here almost as much as the paying guests. Minette mentioned he works as a handyman as well as providing the game. He’s at the police station, at the fire scenes, for all I know he services the hospital, too. He might not have been one of James’s cronies, but he probably knew my uncle and what was happening at our house. His father was a trapper, wasn’t he? He might know how to stuff an owl.” She shook her head. “I know you use him as a source, but did it ever occur to you that maybe he’s too helpful?”

  Jake rubbed the back of his neck. If only that were true. Most of the information he’d gleaned from the man led to one dead end after another. When he’d asked if Frank remembered anyone who might’ve liked to play with dead things, he assured him that was definitely Jeremiah. Only problem was, Jer was dead. He’d also given him the names of a couple of Temagami boys who might’ve had similar tastes, but when Jake had asked Jim, they’d all left the reserve years ago.

  “Is this about the fact that he’s started to follow you around as much as Maya?” he asked, tamping down the jealousy he felt each time he saw him talking to her.

  She harrumphed. “He’s worse than a fly at night—always there and no matter how hard I try, he just doesn’t get the hint to leave. He was the same way years ago. If I had my way, he would go back to being too shy to even talk to me. He carries on as if we’re old friends, but the man doesn’t understand boundaries, nor does he get the fact that his dear old memories of my cousin and his gang aren’t mine.” She shook her head and looked at him, her eyes begging him to take her seriously. “He probably called my uncle thinking it could be Old Home Week.”

  “Alexis, I added Frank to the list of suspects days ago, and I’ve left no stone unturned there, but he’s come up clean. I had Ev dig out the files on the tragedy he suffered eight years ago when his daughter drowned in the neighbor’s pool. The house has since been sold and the pool filled. He and his wife had a rough time of it. Apparently, she fell into a depression and had to be treated in North Bay, but those records, her health records, are sealed. She left him within the year. Since she was Temagami, I talked to Jim about her, but her parents died before she married Frank. Anna was a timid little thing—would’ve suited Frank to a tee no doubt—but neither he nor the chief know where she is. When Jim asked some of the others here about her, he heard she’d gone out west, wanting to put it all behind her. I’ve got a name, Anna Newcome Arthur, but I haven’t been able to find anything. There’s always a chance she’s remarried, left the country, or just changed her name. When I get time, I’ll contact Regina and see if she’s in a database out there.”

  “I see. I guess he and Andrew have something in common then, since I couldn’t find a trace of Andrew’s ex-wife either and she was part Temagami.” She dropped onto the sofa once more.

  “Mixed marriages aren’t unusual when you have kids attending the same schools and working side by side. And, there’s something else to consider. A lot of First Nations women just seem to vanish. Some we eventually find, while others remain a mystery.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “It is, and we’re trying to do better, but these things take time.” That’s why he’d g
one to Regina in the first place. Those families needed closure.

  She nodded. “So where does Frank live?”

  “On the family farm just east of town. His dad bought the place when they moved here over twenty-five years ago. Frank was nine or ten at the time. His dad tried his hand at farming, but didn’t do well, so he ended up guiding and trapping instead. Most of the land just lies fallow now, but some of it is leased to local farmers. Frank left town after his wife took off. Can’t blame him. He settled near London, Ontario—no police record, not even a parking ticket. His father died a few years after you left—heart attack, I think, so he’s certainly not the one behind this. Four years ago, his mother fell and broke her hip. He came back to look after her and got the job with the canteen. I wanted to talk to his boss, but he’s on his way to his winter home in Florida and taking the long way down. According to Lynette, Frank’s never late and is always happy to do extra. After her sister had a stroke, Mrs. Arthur moved to Wasaga Beach to look after her and Frank stayed here. The only thing he does other than hunt for Minette and do odd jobs around here is bowl. Last year he was MVP. He wasn’t here the night you arrived. He was in Wasaga Beach visiting Flora—even brought back a case of their Wasaga Beach beer to share with the guys.”

  “Is there any way to link him to Slaney, Leroy, Jethro, Duffy, or the shelter?” She asked, her brow furrowed.

  “No link to Slaney. He used to smoke, but stopped a few years back—part of the requirement for his employment. Every now and then, he gets the urge, but he chews on a coffee straw, or so he says. The bartender at Stumpy’s claims he was in there with the boys every now and then, including the night of the fire, but left early. Never has more than one pint of beer, but tips well and the waitresses love him. The night of the fire at Duffy’s as I told you, he was supposed to play poker but couldn’t because he was hurt.”

  “What happened to him?” She leaned forward, her lower lip clenched in her teeth.

  “He was out hunting for Min and fell, hurt is lower back, but he had the canteen there for the boys just as he did the night of the shelter fire. He volunteered at the soup kitchen every Saturday, so yes, he would’ve been in there, too, but the fire didn’t happen on a Saturday.”

  “I don’t suppose he has a dead dog, does he?”

  “Nope. As far as his dog goes, he’s fine. I drove by the house the day before you arrived and he was sitting in the window, waiting for Frank to get back. If you want me to look any more, I will, but I don’t see anything there to connect him to the moon or fire.”

  “I can’t think of anything, either. He just gives me the creeps—I suppose he always did, reminding me of the male version of Wednesday Addams, with his heavy dark brows, almost black eyes, and dark hair with that pronounced widow’s peak.” She chuckled. “We certainly can’t make him a suspect because he’s too nice to people or gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

  Jake laughed. “It could be worse. He could look like Lurch or Uncle Fester.”

  “Can you imagine?” She grinned.

  “The weather is supposed to break tomorrow,” Minette said as she entered the apartment before he could comment. “You’ll be able to get back into the field. I can’t say that I’m happy about the fact that you’ll be wandering about seriously damaged buildings, but I do want that maniac caught.”

  “Once Alexis gets in there and lets me in on what she’s thinking, we’ll stop the Fire Angel, you’ll see. But until we do, you and Mia don’t go anywhere without one of the guys.”

  “I know,” Minette said. “I’m teaching Bradley—he’s the Arnie clone—to cook.”

  “Maybe he’ll cut me a deal on his fees.” He turned back to Alexis. “I’ve still got a call out to other jurisdictions looking for information on cold cases, but we aren’t the only ones who had to deal with bad weather. It takes time to get material from one province to another even in the electronic age. Most of that stuff is still in paper files, stored in basements and warehouses. By the way, I went through the old yearbooks looking at people in that English class you mentioned. That teacher was here three years, so that helped. I’ve crossed most of the names off my list. There’s an electrician and a plumber I still need to look at; they’re the only ones who live around here. By the way, one of them is Temagami. When I get the chance, I’ll talk to Jim again. If there are any skeleton’s in anyone’s closet on Bear Island, he’ll know about them.”

  He took a mouthful of cold coffee, made a face, and set the cup aside.

  “Do you want me to make a fresh pot?” Min asked. “Or I can go and get a cup on the other side.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ve probably had enough caffeine for four this week.” He turned to Alexis. “I called Marian Willard in Toronto. Ralph’s hanging in there. No one’s contacted him or the paper, so the odds are our man knows that’s a dead end now, which also points to him being local.”

  Her brow deeply furrowed, Alexis worried her hands in her lap.

  “I don’t know. Something just doesn’t feel right. He’s playing us, Jake. I know he is. I need to get into that house,” she said. “If the weather breaks, we should hold a press conference in the morning and give out the updated profile. Maybe someone will remember a man buying candles, sand, or turpentine—anything will help. Call Everett; see whether or not he can set it up for mid-morning. I’m going to pack it in for the night, I have a few things I want to do before I get to bed. Goodnight.”

  Jake watched her walk away. He couldn’t help thinking about what she’d said. While they’d been sitting around cooling their heels, Fire Angel had been planning his next fire. He hoped to God she was right and the profile they had now would trigger something because they were out of suspects and options.

  * * *

  Alexis organized her files and realized her printer was out of paper. Searching the desk in her room, she couldn’t find any. Had she really gone through three reams?

  Opening the door, she went into the living room where Jake had been, hoping he had extra. While the television was on, the room was empty.

  “Jake?” she called.

  No answer.

  There had to be paper somewhere. Stepping over to the desk where he’d been on the computer earlier, she began to search it. The first two drawers yielded nothing, but she found a package of paper in the third drawer. She reached in to pull it out, and a small ring box came out with it. Under the pad was a picture frame.

  Unable to curb her curiosity, Alexis turned over the frame. It was a wedding picture. Jake looked stunning dressed as he was in his black military police uniform and red beret. Irena wore a traditional high-necked white gown with a hijab, to which was attached a veil. There were only the two of them in the picture, and while Jake looked happy, the bride smiled, but her eyes were devoid of emotion. It seemed strange for a bride not to be happy on her wedding day, but maybe it was a cultural thing.

  She opened the box and looked at a beautiful gold wedding band of traditional Celtic eternity knots.

  When the door from the inn opened, she started.

  “What are you doing at my desk?” Jake asked, carrying a tumbler filled with ice and amber liquor.

  He reached her before she could put the picture and ring box away.

  “Those things are none of your business,” he growled, reaching for the ring box and frame. He looked at the picture, and his face betrayed his agony.

  Was he still in love with his first wife? Did Minette know?

  “I’m sorry, Jake, I was looking for paper.” She held up the package. “I ran out, and I still had stuff to print for tomorrow...”

  “Well, you’ve found it,” he answered gruffly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to use my computer.”

  “Of course,” she said, clutching the paper to her chest and hurrying from the room.

  As she reached the hall, she looked back. Jake was staring at the picture of his wedding day, and the sorrow on his face tore her heart apart. She ached not only for herself b
ut for the second wife who would never fully have his heart.

  She’d barely shut the door behind her when the tears started to fall. Sliding to the floor, her back against the door, she held herself tightly. When the anguish subsided, she rose and, using every ounce of grit and determination she had, reminded herself of who she was and what she had accomplished on her own.

  She was heart sore, it was true, but she would get over it. No more pity parties. She was here to do a job, not fall in love, and certainly not cause the man she loved to suffer any more than he had. His relationship with Minette had to be a difficult one, but it looked as if they were trying to make it work. She would not throw a monkey wrench into the machinery. There would be only one casualty here, and it would be her. She printed the last of the documents and images she needed and got ready for bed.

  * * *

  Minette's weather prediction proved to be right. Alexis rushed to shower and dress so that she could go out on the veranda.

  She went to the foyer where she had left her coat and boots. As she passed the desk, she saw no sign of the photo and ring box. No doubt Jake had moved them to a safer, more private place.

  Dressing quickly, she opened the door she’d noticed beside the picture window and stepped out onto a veranda built over the deck which ran the width of the inn. The cedar planks had been shoveled and salted, melting the ice that covered them. The deck overlooked the chasm, and if she walked to the railing, she could look right down into the gorge. It was an awe-inspiring view. There was a ramp that zigzagged down to the ground level.

  Across from her, the walls of the chasm rose a good twenty feet straight up. She thought of the arsonist and the gunshots on Monday; there was no way anyone could get a vantage point on that side. The forest around her looked like a magical, crystal kingdom. She could imagine the Snow Queen holding court amidst the shimmering ice and snow. Looking down she watched the rapidly moving water rush around rocks caked in white, sparkling in the sunshine. Pine trees, with their needles encased in rime, glittered like diamonds. Birch, aspen, and cedar trees, their branches encrusted with the weight of nature’s frozen beauty, bent low to the ground as if paying homage to their queen. While it was a magnificent sight, Alexis shivered aware of the destructive power such a storm carried with it. She remembered the devastation that had been caused by thousands of trees and electrical poles snapping from the weight of several days of heavy ice and snow. Good and evil—always together—always vying for supremacy. She shuddered. Was life always a series of deadly opposites like that? Is that why they couldn’t identify Fire Angel?

 

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