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“One of the officers put them together.”
“You think those teenagers are still here?”
“I don’t know, but we damned sure need to find out. If what he says is true and they’re still here, they might be responsible for a bunch of these nuisance fires this summer.”
“Maybe. But there’s a big damned difference between the small shit like trash cans and mailboxes, and knowingly burning down an occupied structure. Hell, even if the teens were here and were responsible for some of the chaos, I don’t see them escalating like that. And actually, I’m not sure I can see Foley doing it, either.”
Michael studied me. “You trying to talk us out of suspecting this guy?”
“No. Just thinking.” I tried to imagine where his head might have been. “He was drunk. Angry at women in general. Got cut off by Caroline and kicked out of the bar. That would’ve stuck in his craw, been embarrassing. He’d have gotten more angry, might’ve wanted some payback. But I can’t quite make that fit. I could see him setting fire to the building after everybody was gone. But there were still cars in the lot. It was obvious people were still there. No matter how drunk and pissed this guy was, I can’t see him attacking Jasper and deliberately locking Caroline in that closet. He doesn’t have any priors. Someone capable of that kind of violence wouldn’t fly under the radar so easily.” And he didn’t have the dead eyes I would expect in someone capable of murder.
Michael folded his arms. “Foley could’ve snapped.”
“Maybe.” I certainly wasn’t an expert in psychopaths. “Or it could be that he’s telling the truth. That he lost the lighter when he was here earlier in the summer. The perp could have found it and has been using it. He might’ve left it behind at the tavern fire either by accident or in a deliberate effort to frame Foley.”
The pieces just weren’t quite coming together.
“We’ve thought all summer we were dealing with more than one perp,” Michael pointed out. “Whether Foley’s guilty of this fire or not, it’s possible he’s giving us some answers to some of them. Let’s see if they’re still on-island and go from there.”
I followed him out of the observation room and into what counted as the bullpen of our tiny island police department.
As soon as Carson laid eyes on me, he glared. “What the hell is he doing here?”
My boss didn’t even blink. “Just observing. What’s the word on those teens? Is it possible they’re still here?”
Officer Chris Shelton looked up from a pile of paperwork. “According to rental records, there’s a family who leased one of the houses for the entire summer. Both parents are professors, and they’ve got two boys. The house they rented is two doors down from the one that burned.”
Carson was already moving toward the door. “Then let’s find the little bastards and bring them in for a chat.”
24
Caroline
I eyed the stairs up to the house, gauging whether I’d be able to make it up them. Everything hurt, all the way down to my hair. My body letting me know in no uncertain terms that I’d overdone it this afternoon. But the tavern had been cleared for cleanup, and I’d leapt to help Ed and Bree start the process. We’d still been picking through the rubble, searching for anything salvageable, when the huge construction dumpster had been delivered. Along with it came more helping hands. Neighbors. Friends. Other island business owners. Hatterwick was coming together to help one of its own.
Ed had taken this blessing in stride, maintaining his stoic demeanor. But when the remains of Marv, his taxidermied marlin, had been discovered, he finally broke down. That damned fish had been his pride and joy. Seeing him standing amid the charred remains of his business, tears streaming down his weathered cheeks, my heart broke right along with his.
But we were going to build it back, and it was going to be better than ever. It had to be. Any other outcome meant that the bad guy won, even if he went to jail.
I had to think that was what would happen to David Foley. The police had hauled him in for questioning, and Hoyt had gone with Chief Thompson to observe. I hadn’t heard a word from him since, which said to me that Foley was still in custody and the questioning was ongoing. Tying up loose ends, I supposed. But his lighter had been found on the scene. Surely that meant he was responsible.
“Need a hand?”
I continued to eye the stairs, even as I waved Rios off. He’d picked me up from the tavern and brought me home when he’d gotten off work. “I’ll make it. No reason for you to get filthy, too.”
I was covered in soot and grime. The clothes I’d been wearing were probably ruined. But it had been worth it to take positive steps toward cleaning up, even though the actual rebuilding would be a long time out. I was desperate for a shower and food and about a gallon of water.
It was the lure of the latter that finally got me up the steps and into our apartment. Rios poured me a tall glass, so I didn’t actually touch anything. He even dragged out one of the wooden crates we were using for stools at the kitchen table.
Grateful, I sank down, feeling every ache of my muscles. “Thanks.”
He handed me a couple of painkillers. “Here. This will help.”
Dutifully, I tossed them back and guzzled down the water.
He refilled my glass, then took a seat beside me at the table. “Do you think it’s finally over?”
“God, I hope so. Hoyt’s still at the police station, so far as I know.” I could only imagine what had been happening with the investigation for the past few hours. No doubt the cops would have searched Foley’s rental looking for additional evidence. I knew from Rios’s experience that the police could hold Foley for quite a while without actual charges. But there’d been no direct evidence tying my brother to Gwen’s disappearance. That lighter might as well have been a smoking gun.
