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“We wanted to do one more search,” Josie explained. “Vanessa Armond was definitely looking for something in here.”
Sherwood took off his FBI ball cap and scratched his head. “Gilbert, you never give up, do you? We had a team of experts from three different law-enforcement offices in here, and they only found what you see—a burned-up building with a lot of automotive junk in it.” He pointed toward the big window. “Someone threw the accelerant through that window, so we know it was arson. I’m liking Vanessa Armond for it. She had means and she had motive. She’s a woman scorned, and now word is out that her husband’s mistress was murdered. She came back for revenge and made it look like she was trapped when she saw you.”
“Maybe what Vanessa was looking for is in one of the vehicles you confiscated,” Connor suggested, his gaze cutting toward Sherwood. For someone who’d been shot, his mobility in both arms was remarkable.
“Thanks for that expert assumption, Randall,” Sherwood drawled. “But you two have gone off on one too many wild-goose chases over the past few days. I think we need to regroup and get back on track. Your reports still have a few holes to fill.”
“What is our track?” Josie asked, wondering why he had come back to the garage. “Did you find out anything else that we need to know?”
“Nope, not a thing. I just wanted to have one more look myself. Too many people hanging around this place. Like you, I figured something important must be hidden here.”
“All kinds of places to hide things,” Connor said, walking around, his head up. “Those stairs had to lead to somewhere.”
“Not anymore,” Sherwood said. “Interesting that the fire was set very near that upstairs apartment.”
“The hired help did stay out here,” Josie said, giving Connor a quick glance. She should have gone up there first thing, but the whole place was a safety hazard.
“But why would the hired help hide something important to the Armonds?” Connor kept his eyes on Sherwood.
“Employees have been known to go off the grid, Randall,” the older man said, his gray eyes turning crystal. “You should know all about that.”
“I’ve been paying my dues to the FBI,” Connor retorted. “I only went off the grid this time to find out who’s trying to kill Armond. I’ve been undercover with the man for a while now. Or at least I was until that night of the Benoit heist.”
“A failed heist,” Sherwood reminded him. “But hey, you did find three canvases worth millions of dollars.” Then he asked, “Do you have any suspects you’d like to share?”
Josie watched as this showdown became more aggressive. Getting between the two men, she put up a hand. “We know Armond is a criminal, but we have to have proof of that, and so far, we don’t have anything on him except possibly the murder of his mistress and the cash and invoices. But his wife and son are hiding something, and they did hold us at gunpoint. We need to find out what that something is.”
“We’re all in danger,” Connor said. “We can’t stop now. And you can’t hold the Armonds for long.”
“Louis is still in and out of consciousness,” Sherwood said. He tramped around debris so he could move closer but Josie noticed his gaze darting here and there. “The wife and son have lawyered up enough that they’ll probably get away with a slap on the hand for holding y’all. Beaux Perot, however, has been a wealth of information. He might become our strongest witness.”
“That’s good,” Josie replied. “I’d love a go at him. Beaux seems like a good man caught in a bad situation.”
“Good men have been known to go bad,” Sherwood said, his hostile gaze settling on Connor. “I think we need to get back to town. Need a lift?”
“No, we have a car,” Connor said before Josie could respond.
Okay. Why did he say that? Beaux had brought them out in his SUV. It had gone back to the city for a thorough inspection.
“We’ll be along shortly, sir,” she said. “Mind if we have one last look around?”
