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At this point his grip on my shirt was nearly causing me to choke. I glanced over to see his body practically humming with tension. His eyes were fixed on the fire again.
“Yeah, maybe,” he said absently.
Meanwhile, Barney’s glare was still completely focused on me. I noticed he was sweating from the heat of the nearby fire. “I think he’d be better off at my place. This traumatic experience is clearly taking its toll on him, and he needs someone to care for him. I’ve been looking out for him for a while now.”
He wasn’t wrong about Truman needing someone to care for him. His slight body was swaying heavily against my side and trembling. I moved an arm around his shoulders to help keep him upright.
Two women I didn’t recognize came hustling through the cluster of townspeople who’d gathered to watch the firefighters attempt to subdue the blaze.
“Truman, sweetie, no! Oh my god, what happened?” one of them cried before grabbing him in an embrace.
Barney sucked in a breath and stepped back to avoid being trampled on by the two women sandwiching Truman in a hug.
“I don’t know, Mia,” Truman said faintly. “I don’t know what happened. It’s all gone.”
My heart broke at the sound of his voice, at the change from his happiness earlier in the evening when he told me about Aunt Berry and her special gift for healing and helping the people of Aster Valley.
“It’s not all gone,” one of the women said fiercely. “It’s all in your head and in your heart, Truman Sweet, and we’re going to help you rebuild it. Okay?”
They fussed over him as one of her words hit its target in my own head and heart.
Rebuild.
My specialty.
But first, I needed to figure out what the hell had happened here.
And who needed to pay.
12
Truman
I was numb. And for the first time in a very long time, I also felt completely hopeless. I’d tried so hard to keep my head down and stay out of trouble, not bother anyone or make waves in town. Now here I was with a ruined business and a heap of trouble on my doorstep.
I hated feeling like a burden or a child, so when Barney clucked and fussed over me, it grated on me. I tried to politely rebuff his attempts to have me stay at his house, but when he finally insisted, I lost my patience.
“I want to go home,” I cried, sounding exactly like the baby I hadn’t wanted to be perceived as. “Please just take me home.”
Sam had wandered off to ask a nearby sheriff’s deputy and firefighter a few questions, and seeing him with his muscular arms crossed over his chest watching the waning fire and talking to two of the officials was calming. He would be clearheaded enough to ask the right questions, something I sure as heck wasn’t.
“Sir,” another first responder said, approaching me from one of the nearby emergency vehicles. I recognized him as the deputy who’d taken my witness statement about the bike crash.
“Deputy Stone, right?” I asked.
“Yes, that’s right. How are you, Mr. Sweet? Are you holding up alright?” His face held kind concern.
“Not really,” I said with an attempt at a smile. “Is there any speculation about what caused the fire?”
“Not yet. We were notified through your alarm monitoring service to respond, but there was also a 9-1-1 call. Hopefully the rapid response will at least result in retaining the structural integrity of the building itself, but I would assume most of the contents are lost. I’m very sorry.”
I nodded and swallowed thickly. “At least it was just inventory and not people.”
Deputy Stone pulled out a little notebook and pencil. “How did you hear about the blaze?”
The question shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. “Barney came and got me. I was asleep at home when the gate alert woke me up.”
Barney stepped closer and put his arm around my shoulders. “It was the least I could do. I didn’t want him driving himself in such a state.”
Deputy Stone glanced over at Barney. “And you are…?”
“Barney Balderson, director of the Aster Valley Library. I live here in town.” He reached out a hand to shake, and Deputy Stone had to shift his notebook and pencil to one hand.
“And how did you hear about the fire, Mr. Balderson?”
Barney seemed taken aback by the question. He gestured to the fire trucks and other emergency vehicles whose lights were illuminating the entire downtown area. “It’s fairly hard to miss, Deputy.”
My attention drifted back over to Sam. It seemed like he’d asked the men beside him a million questions.
“When will you know if it was arson?” I asked Deputy Stone, not realizing I’d interrupted another one of his questions to Barney.
The deputy’s brows lowered. “You suspect it was arson?”
I nodded and steeled myself. “Yes. In fact, I think it was retaliation for filing that report with you the other day.”
