Liss nodded. “I think we should, don’t you?”
“Have kids?”
Anxiety flashed into panic. “Talk about having them.” He cocked his head, and a wry smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “We probably should, but not right this minute. We’ve got company.”
A moment later, she heard what he already had—the sound of a car engine. “That better not be Wyatt Purvey again.”
Liss headed for the front door, with Dan following more slowly on his crutches. She was reaching for the doorknob when he stopped at the living room window to peer out at the parking area.
“What are Pete and Sherri doing here?”
“I have no idea.”
Framed in the open doorway with Dan standing behind her, Liss watched her friends get out of their car and survey their surroundings. The previous night’s snowfall had been steadily melting all day, leaving slushy pavement behind. If the weather stayed fine and the daytime temperatures remained above freezing, they’d be back to bare ground in a day or two.
Pete went around to the trunk and extracted two lightweight duffel bags. Sherri’s was fuchsia with purple polka dots. His was dark green.
Catching sight of Liss and Dan as she headed toward the porch, Sherri sang out, “Nursing brigade reporting for duty!”
“Planning to stay awhile?” Dan’s voice was neutral, his expression closed, giving Liss no idea how he felt about having their conversation interrupted.
For herself, she had to admit that she was more relieved than annoyed. She knew she couldn’t put off the moment of truth forever, but she was happy to postpone it a little while longer.
“We figured your poor wife needed a break from looking after you.” Pete sounded jocular, but his eyes cut to Liss, silently asking if Dan knew what she’d shared with Sherri.
Liss gave a negative shake of her head, a movement so slight that Dan never noticed it.
“We’ve had enough breaks, thanks,” he said and lifted his foot to show Pete the plaster cast.
“Nice,” Pete said. “I’ll have to think of something obnoxious to write on it.”
“What are you? Twelve?”
The banter between Pete and Dan got the new arrivals through the door and into the house. Liss grabbed the polka-dot bag away from Pete with one hand and opened the stairwell door with the other.
“Let me show you to your room. Then we can settle in for a good visit.”
She was acting as if it had been months since the four of them had last been together instead of less than a week, but if Dan thought her behavior odd, he didn’t remark upon it. “I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee,” he offered as Liss, Sherri, and Pete started up the stairs.
Liss waited until they came out in the second-floor hallway before she said anything. Then she turned to Sherri, half in relief and half in irritation. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re your backup. You haven’t told Dan your suspicions, have you? He has no idea that his fall may not have been an accident.”
“Of course I haven’t said anything to him. I don’t want to worry him.” She led the way to Simeon Snowe’s bedroom, the one she and Dan had slept in on their first night at the farm. “I’ll put you in here. Since Dan can’t manage the climb, we’re bunking downstairs.”
“Nice,” Sherri said.
Liss closed the door to the hall and grabbed Sherri’s arm, letting the duffel bag fall to the carpet with a plop. “Have you discovered something new? After the last time we talked, I convinced myself that there was nothing to be concerned about. I overreacted . . . didn’t I?”
Pete cut in before Sherri could answer. “She had to see for herself that you two were okay. We’ll go home in the morning, if that’s what you want.”
Sherri sent him a look that shot daggers but didn’t contradict him.
Liss’s gaze went from one to the other. “Okay. Now you’re scaring me.”
“You had concerns. We’re here to check things out.” Sherri said. “You’re in the hands of professionals. Relax and enjoy it.”
“All joking aside,” Pete said, “if there was something about Dan’s fall that didn’t seem right to you, then it’s worth investigating. Personally, I think that your theory about someone wanting you out of the house that night makes sense. Sherri and I talked about it on the drive here. We want to go over the place from top to bottom.”
“Looking for what?”
“Anything that ties Simeon Snowe to someone on that list of names you sent me, or to the John Doe.”
“This place has already been searched by the police, back when Snowe went missing,” Liss reminded her. “And I didn’t find any trace of an intruder.”
“The police could have missed something. You, too.”
“We’ll have to wait till Dan takes a nap.”
Pete looked like he wanted to object but said nothing.
Dan’s voice floated up to them. “Coffee’s ready, gang! Come and get it!”
They didn’t have long to wait before Dan gave in to his throbbing head and retreated to the downstairs bedroom for a little lie down, but the afternoon was already well advanced by then. Liss threw together a casserole and popped it into the oven with four baking potatoes while her friends started their search.
While Pete explored the cellar and checked out the first floor, keeping one ear open for sounds of stirring in the downstairs bedroom, Liss joined Sherri to tackle the upstairs rooms. The results were discouraging. There was nothing beyond the usual clutter one might expect a single, middle-aged man who lived alone to accumulate. Simeon Snowe had read news and sports magazines and Clive Cussler novels, preferred boxers to briefs, and kept a supply of condoms in his nightstand drawer.
They made a brief foray into the dusty, disused attic before returning to the entry hall. By then, the three of them had searched everywhere except the room where Dan still slept.
“I’ll take care of that later,” Liss whispered, her eyes glued to the closed door.
She’d been happier when she’d been convinced she was imagining things. That conclusion had made staying on in the farmhouse until Dan healed enough to travel comfortably much easier on her. Now she wondered if they shouldn’t abandon ship first thing in the morning. Trying to weigh the relative risks was giving her a headache of her own.
Then Sherri voiced the other concern that had been nagging at her.
“You know, you’re going to have to tell Dan what’s going on. The sooner the better.”
“I don’t want to worry him.”
“He’s going to guess that something’s not right. This was supposed to be your vacation. You two were going off on your own for a week. He’s got to be wondering why Pete and I would intrude on your privacy.”
“You heard he was hurt. Isn’t that reason enough? Besides, you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“We can leave tomorrow. We don’t have to. We can stay until Dan’s fit to travel.”
“You called yourself backup? Did you really mean guard duty?”
“We’re your friends. We’re allowed to be concerned about you.”
“You’re terrific friends, but maybe my overactive imagination is contagious. Or we’re all so desperate for some excitement in our lives that we’re grasping at straws. I found an explanation for the maze. Beatrice Purvey’s accusations against Andy turned out to be unfounded. The rest of what happened could be equally innocent.”
“Who are you trying to convince?” Sherri asked. “Me or yourself?”
“Both of us?”
“We’ve got a lot more notes to compare before that happens.”
Liss jumped at the sound of the door to the downstairs bedroom creaking open. For one heart-stopping moment she thought that Dan might have overheard the last part of their conversation. Apparently he had not. He hobbled out, looking tousled and sleepy, and barely acknowledged Sherri’s presence as he made his slow and ponderous way toward the bathroom.
“No spilling the beans to Dan,” Liss
whispered to her friend.
“Fine. But first chance we get, we go over your list of suspects.”
Supper passed without incident. Afterward, they settled down in the living room to play Monopoly. Pete had found an ancient version of the board game in a drawer in the sideboard. This will be a nice relaxing evening with friends, Liss thought. She could almost forget why Sherri and Pete had come to New Boston.
She’d just passed “Go,” collected two hundred dollars, and bought a utility when an odd glow in the night sky beyond the living room windows caught her attention.
“Is that the northern lights?” she asked. They did appear in Maine every once in a while, although not as colorfully as she’d heard they did in Alaska.
Sherri got up to take a closer look.
“Oh, my God!” she exclaimed. “Pete, call nine-one-one. The Christmas trees are on fire.”
Chapter Nine
Members of the local volunteer fire department responded quickly, but until they arrived, Liss had to watch helplessly from the high ground next to the Quonset hut as flames cut a swath through the balsams.
The maze was fully engulfed. Branches popped and cracked as the fire consumed them. The smell of burning wood, so comforting when it came from a fireplace on a cold winter night, made Liss’s stomach heave. Her heart ached for the loss of all those beautiful trees.
“I’m going to see what I can do to help,” Pete said when the first fire engine pulled in. He was a volunteer himself with the Moosetookalook Fire Department.
Sherri stayed with Liss and Dan. She tried to hide her fear for Pete’s safety, but Liss knew her friend too well to be deceived. Sherri wouldn’t breathe easily again until the fire was out.
None of them would.
“Is there a farm pond?” Sherri asked. “Or a river nearby? They’ll need more water than what’s in the pumper.”
“A stream,” Liss said, “but it’s not very deep.”
“Anything will help.”
They watched for what seemed like hours as the battle to beat down the flames raged on. Crews and equipment from neighboring towns arrived to assist, using the logging road for access.
“Come back to the house,” Dan said when the wind picked up, causing snow to swirl and fingers of fire to shoot even higher. “There’s no point in our standing out here in the cold. It may be quite a while yet before they get that blaze under control.”
An eddy of cold air caught the hem of Liss’s coat and tugged at her wool hat. Out in the field, similar gusts continued to fan the flames. Sparks rose from one area like birds taking flight. They passed over the heads of the men with hoses and settled into the treetops in an adjacent field. Liss fully expected those trees to burst into flame. They flickered, but the fire petered out.
“It’s been a wet fall,” Sherri said. “And there’s snow on the ground. Besides that, Christmas trees are green wood. Full of moisture.”
“Then why are some of them burning so fiercely?”
It was a stupid question. Liss realized that as soon as she asked it. Mad as it seemed, she was certain that the maze was on fire because someone had wanted to destroy it. If the entire tree farm burned down along with it, that would be nothing more than collateral damage.
She glanced at Dan. His set face told her he was in pain but was holding on for her sake. As long as she stayed here watching the fire, he’d stick to her like a burr.
She went inside.
Another hour passed before Pete joined them in the farmhouse kitchen. His face was black with soot, and his clothing bore numerous stains, even though it had been covered by borrowed firefighting gear. He brought the New Boston fire chief with him.
Armand Kessler was a big, burly man with the mournful face of a basset hound. In a deep, rumbling voice he confirmed what Liss had already guessed. “I have reason to suspect arson,” Kessler said. “I’m not a trained investigator, but I could smell an accelerant.”
“It was pretty unmistakable,” Pete agreed.
“I’ve left some of my men to watch for hot spots, but the rest are calling it a night. We have the fire contained.” Before Liss could rejoice in that news, Kessler added, “Someone from the fire marshal’s office will be coming out here to look things over. Don’t try to clean up until after he talks to you.”
Shock and exhaustion had taken their toll. Feeling too numb to do more, Liss nodded. As soon as Kessler left, she turned and burrowed into Dan’s arms. He stroked one hand across her hair in a soothing motion.
“Who’s doing these things?” she whispered against his shoulder. “And why?”
Dan’s fingers stilled. “Things?” he repeated. “Plural? What else happened?”
Pete rose from the sofa, where he’d collapsed after introducing the fire chief. “I think I’ll turn in. It’s been a long evening.”
“Why don’t you stick around a bit longer?” Dan’s tone made it an order, not a suggestion. His voice was dangerously soft. It reminded her of Wyatt Purvey’s whisper, but its effect was entirely different. Although Dan rarely lost his temper, he was perilously close to doing so now.
Pete subsided.
Sherri plunked herself down next to her husband and gestured toward the other chairs in the living room. “Sit down, you two. You may as well be comfortable. No one is going anywhere anytime soon. This time the police will investigate.”
With a sigh, Liss complied, taking the armchair facing toward the middle room and kitchen.
“This time,” Dan echoed.
He stayed on his feet, framed in the archway between the two rooms and leaning heavily on his crutches. He did not look well. His face was haggard. His eyes were bloodshot. But his fulminating glare made it clear he wouldn’t stand for any evasions.
No sense beating around the bush, Liss told herself. She took a deep breath and plunged into speech. “Your fall wasn’t an accident. I can’t prove it, but I think someone deliberately created that slick spot on the ground by the truck. I tried to talk myself out of the idea, but now that someone’s started a fire . . .” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of her husband’s face.
“Exactly when were you planning on telling me the truth?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.”
“Damn it, Liss! You—”
“Don’t snarl at me!” She snapped out the words as she sprang to her feet. She was annoyed at Dan but even more irritated with herself. “Yes, I know better than to try to keep secrets from you, but first you were in the hospital. Then you were dealing with the cast and a killer headache. When, exactly, was I supposed to dump a new worry on you?” Toe to toe with him, her glare dared him to tell her she could have handled things any other way.
“Damn it, Liss,” he said again, but this time there was much less heat behind the words. He slumped, letting the side of the archway take his weight.
Liss stepped away from him, rubbing her hands over her face. Her eyes felt gritty, and she was all but reeling from lack of sleep.
In a tired voice, Dan asked, “Did you send for Pete and Sherri?”
“We volunteered,” Sherri said. “Cut her some slack, Dan.”
He ignored her, keeping his focus on his wife. “I still don’t understand why it couldn’t have been an accident. All kinds of things get spilled in parking lots. I know I didn’t slip on ice, but there’s motor oil, radiator fluid, antifreeze, windshield-washing solution—”
“Olive oil?”
“What?” Sherri sat up straight and exchanged a startled look with Pete.
“Olive oil.” Liss sighed. “I know it sounds wacko, but I recognized the smell. It was definitely olive oil on the ground beside Dan’s truck.”
“You didn’t mention that little detail the first time around.”
“Huh,” Pete said. “Olive oil. That’s certainly . . . different.”
“It’s preposterous,” Liss admitted. “It’s also true, and I’m pretty sure the spill wasn’t accidental.” She explained about the absence of bro
ken glass and the size of the slick.
Dan finally shoved himself away from the archway. After he dropped into the nearest chair, he sent Liss a look of rebuke. “You should have reported your suspicions to Chief Purvey.”
Liss snorted. “Like he’d listen.”
“And we should have been gone from here long before today.”
Liss made an inarticulate sound of frustration. “Oh, sure! Think about that for more than two seconds, okay, Dan? Do you really think you could have faced three hours in the passenger seat of your truck with that cast on your ankle on the day after you fell? There isn’t much foot room in the cab to begin with. You griped about that for most of the short drive from the hospital to here.”
The floor space on the passenger side of the truck was nearly halved by the hump made by the transfer case for the four-wheel drive. Liss knew exactly how much that limited legroom. She was the one who usually had to sit on that side. The irony of the situation was that they’d normally have used her car for the trip, but it had needed new shocks and Dan had decided that while they were away would be a good time to have the work done.
“She’s got a point, Dan,” Pete said. “Given that ankle, and your head, you needed a couple of days of rest before you put any kind of strain on yourself.”
“I’m doing better,” he insisted. “I say we grab a few hours of sleep and leave here as soon as we talk to the fire marshal. I’ll ride with Pete in his car. Liss and Sherri can take the truck.”
Bone tired herself, Liss said the first thing that came into her head. “What if this saboteur tries to burn the house down next?”
“Highly unlikely,” Pete said. “There are still firemen in the field. Besides, the sun will be up in a couple of hours.”
“Right,” Dan said. “I’m going to go get some shuteye. Coming, Liss?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Maneuvering awkwardly on his crutches, he got up and crossed the living room to exit through the door to the entry hall.
Absurd as it seemed, especially if someone really was out to get them, Liss felt as if a tremendous burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She no longer had to hide her fears from Dan. And he hadn’t been nearly as angry at her as she’d expected him to be. She was pretty sure he’d already forgiven her for keeping secrets.
Ho-Ho-Homicide (A Liss MacCrimmon Mystery Book 8) Page 14