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Foley ducked his head, a bit of color rising in his cheeks. “Yeah. I was probably a dick. I think I scared the girl on duty.” That head snapped back up. “But I didn’t do anything.”
“Sure, sure.” Another consultation of the list. “You ever been to Hatterwick before?”
Blond brows drew together. “Yeah. Why?”
“When was that?”
“Earlier this summer. Back in early June. I was here with some friends for a bachelor weekend.”
Carson was nodding. “You remember where you stayed?”
“In a rental over on Sandpiper something or other.”
I tensed, waiting to see where this line of questioning would go. I remembered Jim Foster reporting that the beach house had been left a total disaster. Was that a result of a bachelor party gone a little too wild?
“Whose name was the rental under?” Carson asked.
“Lucas Platt.”
“Shit,” I muttered. “This was one of the last people inside that house before it burned.” Maybe Carson wasn’t quite so shitty at his job as I’d believed.
In the interrogation room, I could see Foley starting to tense up again. “What are you getting at, Chief?”
“Well, it happens that the last time you were here, there was a fire in that rental. Same day y’all left.” Carson opened a folder he’d brought in and pulled out photos from the scene of the beach house fire.
Foley blinked. “We had nothing to do with that. We were gone.”
“Right, right. I’m just wondering if you remember seeing anything that morning. After all, y’all were there. Not a lot of other folks in the area.”
The other man threw up his hands. “No. Why would I? It was weeks ago.”
“The thing is, David, you were here on-island right around the time this beach house burned. And now you’re back on-island at the same time the Brewhouse burned.”
An angry flush worked its way up Foley’s neck and into his face. “I didn’t do anything. I’m sure lots of people were on-island at the same time as both those things.”
“True enough.” Carson placed the evidence bag with the lighter on the table. “Do you recognize this?”
Surprise flickered over the other man’s face. “That’s my lighter. I lost it when I was here earlier in the summer. Where did you find it?”
“Lost it, huh? Didn’t report it.”
Foley looked at Carson like he was an idiot. “It’s a lighter. Why would I report it? It’s not like you would have done anything. I assumed I left it behind. Clearly, someone found it.”
“Mmmhmm. Well, the problem here, David, is that multiple witnesses state you got pretty aggressive with a bartender on duty last night when she refused you service. And it doesn’t look good for you that somebody locked her in a supply closet after closing and used this very lighter to set the place on fire. That just seems like one too many coincidences to me.”
The guy was starting to sweat. “I want my lawyer.”
“I think that’s a pretty good idea. Because here’s what it looks like to me: You were here earlier this summer, maybe realized you forgot your pretty lighter. All engraved with your initials and shit. Seems like it was a nice one. Maybe a gift from your girl? Something that means something to you. Anyway, you realized you left it and came back to the house to retrieve it.”
Foley fisted both hands on the tabletop. “I don’t know anything about any fires. I didn’t go back to the house. Hell, if you want to talk to somebody who’s into that shit, look for the kids who were there that week.”
“What kids would those be?”
“There were some boys in the rental next door. High school age, I think. I saw them screwing around with some fireworks, setting a trash can on fire. Maybe they found my lighter. I don’t fucking know, but I didn’t do this.”
Carson closed his folder and rose. “We’ll do that. In the meantime, why don’t you get in touch with your lawyer?”
When he walked out, I looked at Thompson. “Do we have rental records for the rest of the area around the house?”
