She nodded. “A pipe burst a few weeks back and they had to cut open the wall to fix it. I hated not finishing the repair, but with our money situation, I couldn’t justify it.” She uncrossed her arms and leaned back on the sofa. “So what does that have to do with the fire?”
“The area adjacent to a flammable wall is the best point to initiate a fire. The supporting wood is exposed, making it the most flammable wall in the room. If the fire had been started there, flames would have quickly caught on the wood and spread through the house. Plus your bedding would have been excellent tinder. A skilled arsonist would know that.”
“But the sofa has fabric, too. Wouldn’t it be just as combustible?” She tried to cross her legs but Archer was in the way.
He scooted back. “That’s what I asked, but apparently antique sofas stuffed with horsehair and covered with wool fabrics like yours are difficult to ignite and don’t burn readily once started.”
“Interesting,” she said and sat thinking. “So this means pretty much anyone could have started the fire, except honestly, I can’t see Lance getting his hands dirty.”
“He could have hired someone to do it for him.”
“I suppose,” she conceded. “Thankfully I have an alibi or I could see where they might suspect me.”
He didn’t respond.
“What are you not telling me?”
“You’re not in the clear yet,” he answered in a low tone. “Carothers is still investigating your ties to Withrow and hasn’t had time to confirm that you weren’t part of the attack this afternoon.”
She took a frustrated breath and blew it out. “I get that he has to keep looking into me even though it’s a colossal waste of time, but the fire? I have an alibi. Ralph—”
“Remember, Ralph is an old family friend and until recently he’s had a vested interest in the business.”
“Ralph’s as honest as they come.” She sat forward and rested her elbows on her knees. “He wouldn’t lie to the police.”
“Still, Carothers is a good detective and he’ll do his due diligence. He’ll ask others who might have seen you and Ralph together to confirm the alibi. Only then will he release the house back to you.”
“Again, a waste of time when the real arsonist is getting away with it.” She got up and started pacing.
The real arsonist. Archer used his phone to connect to the internet and research Stan Fannon while he waited for the investigator to do his thing. Archer confirmed he lived in Troutdale and was a self-employed electrician as Emily had mentioned. The guy had a couple of misdemeanors on his record, but Archer could find nothing else that would indicate he was serious trouble.
Didn’t mean anything, though. Most person-on-person crimes were fueled by emotions and when something hit a person wrong, even decent folks who had no criminal background could snap. Cindy’s death could be such a catalyst in Stan’s life, which means he was still Archer’s main suspect.
“When you scanned the crowd, did you see Stan or anyone else that Withrow had hung out with in the past?” Archer asked.
Emily shook her head and continued to pace. “He wasn’t the least bit friendly with other members of Oregon Free. Of course, I don’t know the people he might hang out with outside the group, if anyone.”
Archer stood and crossed to the window, where she stared into the distance. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head.
She suddenly blinked hard, then stared up at him. “Did they let you inside the house to assess the damage?”
“No. Carothers won’t let anyone set foot inside until after the forensic team finishes their work.”
“When will that be?”
“Hard to say. They’re on scene now and Carothers will let me know when we can have access.”
A tiny frown line appeared between her brows as she absently tapped her finger on the windowsill. “I’ve managed to keep a small emergency fund. Hopefully it will be enough.”
He wanted to tell her everything would turn out fine, but he didn’t know that it would.
She closed her eyes tightly and started taking deep breaths. “I can get through this. All I need is a solid plan. We have guests registered for the day after tomorrow. If I can get the roofer and electrician started the minute Carothers turns over the house, we should be good to go.”
Archer bit down on his tongue before he said that there was no way anyone would want to stay in a place that reeked of smoke, but she would come to that conclusion all on her own once she saw the building in the light of day.
He met her gaze squarely. “I’ll pray that you succeed.”
She shot him a confused look. “Prayers? Oh, yeah. Right. Thanks.”
Her less than enthusiastic response surprised him. “After seeing Birdie’s church friends helping with the fund-raiser tonight I assumed you were a woman of faith, too.”
“I am. It’s just...at the moment...” She shrugged. “I don’t think prayers are doing much good in my life. Since I moved back here, all I’m getting from God is silence.” She took a deep breath. “But maybe it’s different for you. Maybe He answers your prayers.”
“I trust that God will provide answers even if it isn’t the answer I want to hear.”
She raised an eyebrow at his vague answer and watched him carefully. “So you’re saying that my prayers aren’t going unanswered, God is just saying no to my requests.”
“Maybe, or the answer could be yes, but not now. It will occur in God’s way and in His timing.”
She sighed, drawing it out for a long moment. “I don’t have time and God knows that. Our finances are so dire that if I don’t get this place repaired in time for our guests, I might as well forget making the repairs and put the padlock on the door now.”
* * *
The next morning, Archer steeled his resolve and approached Stan Fannon. Emily seemed as if she wanted to hang back, but Archer wasn’t surprised by that. He wouldn’t be eager to see someone who was angry with him either. It would be even worse with a guy who potentially wanted to kill him.
Fannon had his head down and was running wire through a conduit outside a Troutdale post office. He wore jeans, mud-caked hiking boots and a faded T-shirt with a picture of a popular rock band across his skinny chest. His head came up, and he looked to be in his thirties with just the beginning of crow’s feet by eyes filled with defiance and anger. The guy might have only a few misdemeanors on his record, but Archer took an instant dislike to him.
“We have a few questions for you,” Archer said.
Fannon slowly came to his feet and tugged up his jeans. “Why would I want to talk to either of you?”
Archer wasn’t on duty, which meant he couldn’t flash a badge, so he pulled back his shoulders, making sure the FRS logo was visible on his chest.
“It would be better to answer my questions here than to be hauled in for questioning,” he said, though he had no official status in this investigation.
“Fine.”
Archer wanted to lead by asking about bow hunting, but records from the Department of Fish and Wildlife hadn’t come in yet, and if it turned out that Fannon was a hunter, Archer didn’t want to tip the guy off so he ditched any equipment he might own.
That left the fire for Archer to focus on. “Where were you last night?”
Fannon eyed him for a moment, then shrugged. “I worked here all day. Finished up about five. Grabbed a burger on the way home and watched TV all night.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah, I’m alone all the time now thanks to her.” He jerked his thumb at Emily.
She opened her mouth and Archer suspected she was going to say Cindy’s accident wasn’t her fault, but he preempted her by asking, “What did you watch?”
Fannon didn’t answer for a moment and Archer suspected a lie was coming. �
�American Chopper marathon.”
“What network is that show on?”
“Discovery Channel.”
Archer tapped the screen on his phone and brought up the Discovery Channel’s TV listings for last night.
“Funny thing,” he said, holding out the phone. “The show wasn’t on last night.”
Fannon crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe the schedule for my cable company is different.”
“Maybe,” Archer said, though he doubted it. “What company do you use?”
“Oregon Cable.”
“Great.” Archer stowed his phone. “I’ll just give them a call today to confirm you were watching it.”
“They can’t tell you what I was watching.”
“You have a DVR?” Archer asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Well, guess what?” he went on in a matter-of-fact tone. “DVRs are computers that track all sorts of data about your watching habits, and your cable company can tell me what show you were tuned in to and for how long.” Archer didn’t add that it would take a warrant to get that information and they had no probable cause to request one. “Of course, that doesn’t prove you were in the room watching, now, does it?”
Fannon didn’t say anything, but his nostrils flared and he spun toward Emily. “We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if it wasn’t for you.”
She fisted her hands. “Cindy’s death was an accident.”
“Don’t bother trying to defend yourself. Cindy’s death is all your fault and nothing you say is going to change my opinion of you.” His eyes flashed with anger as he raised his index finger and advanced on Emily.
She stood strong, as if waiting for him to come closer.
Archer wasn’t about to let that happen so he stepped between them and pinned Fannon with a look. “I’d back away if I were you.”
Fannon ran his gaze over Archer, as if the guy thought he could take him. Archer widened his stance and fixed the same stare on Fannon that Archer used on uncooperative arrestees.
“You are not allowed to lay a finger on Emily. Not here. Not anywhere.” Archer jabbed the guy in the chest exactly as the jerk had planned to do to Emily. “You got it?”
“Yeah. I got it.” His focus traveled back to Emily. “You may think you’re going to get away with this but you’re not, you know.”
Archer raised his eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest. “Is that a threat?”
“Take it however you want,” he replied, a snide smile slithering across his mouth.
This conversation was going nowhere fast...in fact, Emily’s presence was inciting the guy and that would not end well. It was best they leave.
“Remember my warning,” Archer called over his shoulder as he escorted Emily to the car.
Unfortunately, the questioning had not gone the way Archer had planned. He not only still didn’t have a clue whether Fannon had a valid alibi, but he feared the conversation had made an enemy of the man and could cause him to escalate any plans he might have to harm Emily.
EIGHT
Archer’s anger at Stan radiated off his body as they walked. Emily was fighting to control her temper, too, and as an added bonus, she was also upset with Archer. She wouldn’t have allowed Stan to hurt her and Archer’s repeated interference irritated her last nerve. She’d seen her mom roll over and let guys take over her life in just the same way. Take over Emily’s life while they were at it, too. She would not allow that.
Archer’s hand went directly to her car door, but she jerked it open herself, earning a questioning look. He stood confused for a few moments, then stepped around the front of the car and settled behind the wheel. He looked like he wanted to say something but instead shoved the keys in the ignition.
She took a few deep breaths to try to calm her irritation, then said, “I can fight my own battles, you know.”
His eyes scrunched up in confusion again and he peered at her for several long moments. “What are you talking about?”
“Your coming to my rescue with Stan back there. With Lance last night. Neither of them would have hurt me, and I can handle myself in situations like that. I’ve done it for years, and I didn’t need your help.”
“Did you want him touching you?” Archer’s eyes bore into hers. “If so, tell me, and if it happens again, I’ll back off.”
She met his gaze head-on. “I don’t want him or any man touching me...but I decide that. Not you.”
He pulled back as if she’d slapped him and held up his hands. “Message received.”
Emily sighed. She hadn’t meant to hurt him and wished she’d have taken time to cool down so she didn’t come on so strong. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. Especially not after everything you’ve done and are doing for me and Birdie. It’s just...” She shrugged. “Guys thinking they know what’s best for me and taking over...it’s one of my pet peeves.”
He continued to stare at her, and she’d have to be blind not to see he wanted an explanation. She didn’t particularly want to give it, but after his kindness and all the time he was devoting to her, he deserved to hear her reasoning.
“It’s my dad,” she said and looked away. “He took off when I was a little kid. My mom didn’t think she should be alone so it seemed like every time I turned around she had a new boyfriend. The constant in our house was the parade of guys going through it. Most of them didn’t respect my boundaries and thought they could fill in for my dad when I wanted nothing to do with them.”
She looked at him again. “But why give them a chance when I knew they wouldn’t be around very long? So, you see, I have a thing about guys stepping in for me when I can handle myself. I had to learn how to do it at a very young age, and by the time I came to live with Birdie, I’d had to grow up and fend for myself.”
“So what you’re saying is to butt out of your business.” His jaw firmed for a moment and some unreadable emotion flashed in his eyes before he ground his teeth. “You want me to take off? Just say the word, and I’m out of here.”
“No, please. That’s not what I meant at all. I’m grateful for your protection—”
“But you don’t think you need it?”
“No, I do, it’s just...” She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s more. You...me...there’s something going on between us, right? And I don’t want you to think just because you’re stepping in to protect me that it’s going anywhere.”
He let his gaze linger. “So you feel it, too?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Isn’t it?”
He had her there, but she wouldn’t acknowledge it. She glanced away again and felt his gaze on her, but she wouldn’t turn back. He was right. It was the point. She didn’t mind his taking Stan down a notch. In fact, she actually liked having someone on her side. Someone willing to defend her. And as she’d said, that was the problem. She couldn’t, no wouldn’t, start to rely on someone, just for the person to turn around and bail on her.
She met his gaze and firmed her own. “I appreciate your willingness to protect us, but I’d also understand if you want to take off. I’ll do my best to keep us safe on my own. I always have.”
“If you want my protection, then you’ll have it, but please don’t let your emotions get the best of you and take these threats lightly. They’re very real and you need to be extremely careful.”
* * *
Birdie slept in late the following morning, and Emily took advantage of the time to check out the damage at the B and B. Archer trailed behind, and for once, she wasn’t aware of him except for the reassuring sound of his footfalls as she surveyed the first floor. Carothers had called Archer late last night to release the building to her. She’d wanted to rush over and inspect it, but Archer was the voice of reason. He said seeing the da
mage would be easier in the light of day.
He was wrong. Daylight or not, it wasn’t easier to accept that someone would go to such extreme lengths to be rid of her.
The lingering stench of smoke seeped from the walls, the floors, and it was so strong she questioned if the first two floors had actually been spared from the flames. She stepped into the living room, where the heavy velvet drapes really reeked of smoke. Likely permeated all upholstered furniture and perhaps her precious books, as well.
She moved on to the dining room. The smell seemed stronger there, but fortunately no damage.
“Other than the smoke,” Archer said, “it’s looking good on this floor.”
“I’ll still need to figure out how to get the smell out, but you’re right. No damage so far. Not even water damage.”
The sun slipped behind heavy clouds, suddenly extinguishing the sun’s bright rays filtering through the window and darkening the room, leaving shadows and an ominous feeling hanging in the air. She’d brought a flashlight for the upstairs hallway, and with the electricity still out, she clicked it on to step into the kitchen. Thankfully, it had sustained no damage, lifting a bit of the heaviness in her heart. The upstairs would be another story.
Emily preceded Archer up the back stairway. As soon as she hit the landing the plop, plop, plop of water caught her attention. She swung the flashlight up to see large drops falling from the ceiling at the end of the hallway. Not surprising, as this section was located below the third-floor staff quarters.
Although she’d expected to see this, her heart still sank. She steeled her mind before looking at the other end of the hall.
Perfectly dry.
The situation was bad, but not dire. In fact, something they should be able to recover from.
“This doesn’t look bad at all,” Archer said in a gentle voice. “You said God’s been silent, but seems like He was watching out for you here.”
Had God spared them?
“He could have prevented the fire altogether,” she replied and the minute the statement left her mouth, she knew it was a surly response that should have been left unsaid.
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