“You should talk to Cade Coleman and Ronnie Smith,” she blurted suddenly. “They showed up here that first night when my window was broken. And don’t forget about those two who used those paint guns.”
Fowler gave her a nod. “I’ll talk to them.”
Which meant nothing, really. She didn’t know why she even bothered. He didn’t care if the truth was found when it came to her. The Harris family hated her, and therefore she was nothing. Insignificant.
Fowler moved on to the two uniformed officers on the scene. Another fire department vehicle had arrived, and the man who exited it appeared to be in charge. The fire marshal, she reckoned.
“We can sit in the car,” Chance offered.
She didn’t really care. No sooner than the thought whizzed through her mind, she realized she was standing in the middle of the yard wearing a nightshirt and with bare feet.
She nodded. “That’s a good idea, I guess.”
Once they were in the car, she collapsed against the seat and squeezed her eyes shut. Would this nightmare never end? The trouble just kept escalating. When was enoughenough?
Tears burned in her eyes once more, and she fought them back. She would not cry again. Damn it. Okay. Get it together, Rory. She and Chance had a lot to do. There was no time for falling apart.
A rap on her window made her jump. She sat up and stared at the person on the other side of the glass.Detective Fowler.What did he want now? What she wanted was to demand to know why he hadn’t brought up the Henagar case when investigating hers…but now wasn’t likely the time.
Chance powered the window down.
Fowler looked from Rory to Chance. “You two don’t have to stay,” he explained. “One of the officers said you’d already answered his questions about any potential items inside that could escalate the situation. I or the fire marshal will contact you if there are more questions.”
“Thanks,” Chance said before powering the window back up.
When he’d backed out of the driveway and headed toward town, she asked, “What do we do now?”
“First, we’re going to get clothes. Then we’re going for coffee and food.”
She didn’t argue. What he suggested was necessary. “What about talking to the people from the case Shane told us about?”
“Heading that way as soon as we’re dressed and fed.”
“Okay.” It wasn’t like they could show up at a stranger’s home looking like this or at this hour anyway. She glanced at Chance. At least he had on jeans. The tee was one of those sleeveless tanks. The image almost made her smile. He looked like a movie-type tough guy with those muscled arms.
Rory stared forward. She had no idea how this was all going to turn out. But she had the overwhelming urge to laugh. Maybe it was hysteria…insanity…or a combination of both. But she had to bite her lips to prevent the sound from erupting.
How weird was that? Her life just kept unraveling and she wanted to laugh.
Allston Residence
Bray Drive
Henagar, Alabama, 8:15 p.m.
It was probablystill too early for a house call from a stranger, but here they were. Chance had parked on the street in front of the home belonging to Alita Whitmore and Carla Allston wereboth schoolteachers. Rory had searched the internet for as much information as she could find on the two. She just hoped one or both were willing to talk.
Their house was small but very nice. Well maintained. The yard was beautifully groomed with lots of blooming flowers and shrubs. Rory couldn’t help thinking of Lulu’s home that was now destroyed. Once she’d pulled herself together this morning—about the same time Fowler suggested they didn’t have to stay—she had wanted to launch into him about the case with such glaring similarities to hers and Pete’s. Shane had told them about it, which meant the local police were not unaware of the case.
But good sense had prevailed. The less Fowler knew about their movements and what they discovered until they were ready for him to know, the better. When they had additional details, then she would throw it at him and demand some answers.
“Ready?” Chance looked to her.
“Yeah. Maybe we’ll find out that Shane knew what he was talking about.”
“I’m feeling optimistic,” Chance noted.
Her too, she decided. Definitely optimistic—in spite of this morning’s horror.
