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Jenna turned and they headed back to the cruiser. “Okay, I’ll leave that to you. You should call Maggie to organize the accommodation and meals.”
As Rowley made the calls, Jenna drove back to town. They’d just hit the end of Stanton when she spotted a curl of smoke climbing into the bright blue sky. “Oh, that doesn’t look good. That’s in the middle of town.”
“I hope no one has set fire to the sheriff’s office. I’ll call Maggie back and put my phone on speaker.” Rowley lifted his phone again. “Hey, Maggie, it’s me again. Is everything okay there? We see smoke.”
“I was just going to call you about that. There’s a ton of smoke but the fire department has it under control.” Maggie sounded her usual calm self. “Walters just walked in. He told me it was the apartment on top of the hardware store. It went up with a whoosh. They found a body and we’re waiting for a report from the fire chief.”
Dread crept over Jenna and she swallowed hard. “Did you say the hardware store?”
“Yes, that’s what Walters said.” Maggie sucked in a deep breath. “Oh my Lord, isn’t that where young Mrs. Dean was staying?”
Jenna flicked a glance at Rowley’s grim expression. “Tell Walters to hunt down Errol Dean. I want to know if he was involved.”
“Ma’am.” Walters slow drawl filled the speaker. “Before you go hauling anyone in, do you figure you should talk to the fire chief? It could have been an accident. From what I hear, Errol Dean
has been in counseling and was hoping to get back with his wife.” He sighed. “Seems to me if his wife just died in a housefire, hauling him downtown might be a little insensitive—seeing as you’re going for sheriff and all.”
Having taken the brunt of Dean’s temper firsthand, Jenna gritted her teeth. “Well, I don’t trust him and I want to know where he was at the time of the fire. You don’t have to haul him in. Go find him and see if he has an alibi. I’m on my way to the scene now.”
She pulled up some ways from the smoking hardware store. The store itself appeared to be untouched by the fire but around the windows of the top floor, fire had left flaming patterns in soot on the red bricks. The air held the disturbing smell of a cookout, and knowing Carol Dean had burned to death inside made her stomach churn. The fire crew was in the process of mopping up, and paramedics stood leaning against an ambulance talking in hushed voices. A small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk opposite with all eyes on the building like a murder of crows waiting to feed on the dead.
Jenna turned to Rowley. “We’ll need to process the scene. Have you seen a person killed in a fire before?”
“No, ma’am.” Rowley appeared to steel himself and one hand rested on the door handle. “I’ll be fine.”
Handing him a mask and gloves from the kit in the cruiser, she slid out and headed for the fire chief. It took some minutes to gain his attention, and Jenna had the feeling he didn’t want her to become involved. Too bad. She followed him to his truck. “Sorry to trouble you, Chief.” She held out a hand. “Sheriff Jenna Alton. Can you walk me through the scene? Is the body in situ?”
“Yeah. Doc Brown has already come by and confirmed the woman is deceased. He’ll be making out a death certificate.” He ignored her hand. “It’s nothing for you to worry about, Sheriff. It’s cut and dried.”
Straightening, Jenna frowned. “You may not know the circumstances surrounding Carol Dean, who we assume died in the fire, but any death warrants an investigation by my office.” She stared into a bored expression. “Unless you have to rush to another fire, would you mind giving me a rundown of your conclusions?”
“Sure.” The chief walked round back of the hardware store, his boots splashing through the puddles of ash-filled water. “The stairs are fine. All the damage was contained to the bedroom. The structure of the building looks untouched, although the hardware store has suffered water damage, but I’m sure it can be repaired.”
Getting more annoyed by the second. “I’m sure the insurance company will send out someone to do a structural inspection.”
“That’s my job.” The chief narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m more than qualified to assess the damage to a building and make a conclusion on a fire, Sheriff.”
Pulling on her mask and gloves, she indicated to Rowley to follow them up the stairs on the outside of the building. “Was the front door open when you arrived?”
“It obviously wasn’t locked.” The chief walked inside. “I can’t see any damage, so my crew didn’t have to break down the door.” He led the way inside the bedroom.
The smell of burned wood, ashes, and a smoldering corpse crawled up Jenna’s nose. She stared down at the small blackened figure curled up under the window and moved toward it. Although burned, a considerable gash was clearly visible on the forehead. Concerned, she looked at the chief. “So, what do you figure happened here?”
“I found an electrical fault in the wiring to the lamp. I’d say the cord ignited.” He pointed to the outlet. “The fire spread to the rug. The woman panicked, tripped, struck her head on the bench, and knocked herself out. The open window fed the fire and she burned to death. I’ll get the paramedics to come and take her to the undertakers.”
“No, I’m not finished here.” Jenna stared at the pattern of fire. “I see the burn marks come from the outlet and move to the lamp but why didn’t the fire stop with the lamp? What made it jump to the rug and head toward the woman? The scorch marks lead to the front door, which you said was unlocked, but apart from a small amount of soot, the door hasn’t been damaged.” She bent to examine the Y-shaped pattern with interest. “Do you have an explanation for this?”
“Is she always so annoying?” The chief looked at Rowley and grinned.
Anger rising, Jenna shot a glance at Rowley as he opened his mouth to reply and he shut it with a disgruntled expression. She glared at the chief. “Are you always so rude?” She cleared her throat. “Okay, if the fire started at the outlet and moved as you reckon across the rug to the woman, why does it do a turnaround and head back to the front door?”
“Okay… let me explain this for you in words you’ll understand.” He walked to the outlet. “The fire starts here in the outlet and runs along the cord and then across the rug. The woman sees the fire and panics. She can’t get past, so flings open the window looking for an escape but it’s too late. The flames have caught hold of her skirt. She falls to the floor banging her head. The wind from the window blows the flames to the front door.”
Heat crawled up Jenna’s neck and into her cheeks. Not in all her career had anyone treated her like an idiot. She lifted her chin. “I’m not buying it. Have you checked for an accelerant?”
“Can you smell anything like gas or gunpowder? How many times do I have to explain to you? IT WAS AN ELECTRICAL FAULT.” The chief shook his head. “Don’t step on my toes, missy. I’ll send in my report. When it comes to fires, I’m the expert in this town, not you.” He turned, walked out the door, and clattered down the steps.
Holding back the need to scream, Jenna stared after him. “What a jerk.”
