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Twenty-Two
Ignoring the fire chief’s assessment of the scene, Jenna stared at the pattern of the fire. She’d never seen any like it before. Fire usually moved forward roughly in a line unless it followed some type of accelerant, either liquid or something else flammable, but the wooden floor was the same all over. So how come the fire branched off in two different directions? Confused, she went to the electrical outlet and turned to Rowley. “They haven’t removed the outlet to check for a fault in the wiring. I don’t like this at all. Do you have anything to remove the cover so we can check?” She went to the power box just to make sure the power was disconnected.
“Yeah, I do, ma’am, and the chief had no right to raise his voice at you like that. It was disrespectful.” He pulled a penknife from his pocket and opened it, displaying a variety of tools. He crouched down and went to work removing the outlet.
Concentrating on what Rowley was doing, she snorted. “He was rude but I can take it. I’ve met worse men than him in my career.” She looked at him. “I appreciate you wanting to say something, but no matter how much you feel like you need to protect me from men like him, don’t step in and defend me. Watch my back in a fight or when we’re in danger, but it’s best to allow me to deal with people like him.” She sighed, not wanting to admonish Rowley. “I want to win the election for sheriff, and if you step in and defend me from people like him, it will soon get around that I’m weak.”
“You’re sure not weak.” Rowley lifted out the wires and shook his head. “This wasn’t a wiring fault. All the fire damage is to the outside.” He straightened and frowned at her. “What now?”
Jenna pulled out her phone. “I’ll record the scene. You go down to the cruiser and grab the forensics kit. I’ll need samples of everything and I want someone other than the local undertaker examining the body.” She turned to him. “Isn’t there a doctor or anyone who can do an autopsy on the victim in town?”
“Doc Brown is an option, but he’s just a GP. He’s already seen the body, but he’s not a forensic scientist. You’ll have to contact the medical examiner’s office in Helena. Most times the undertaker, Max Weems, handles any bodies and has done for years.” Rowley headed for the door. “I’ll be right back.”
Jenna took shots of the outlet and the burn pattern on the floor and turned back to the charred body of Carol Dean. She took images from every angle and then used the video camera on her phone and gave a running commentary of everything she noticed as she captured the scene. When Rowley came back with the forensics kit, she smiled at him. “Remove the outlet and as much wiring as possible. Bag and tag everything—date, time—and we’ll both sign the seal. I’m taking swabs of all the burned areas to look for any sign of an accelerant. I’m convinced this pattern of fire isn’t normal. It’s as if someone laid a trail of a flammable liquid and then set it alight.”
“Why would they do that?” Rowley set about collecting evidence.
Jenna took a long look at the victim. “I figure someone murdered Carol Dean and tried to make it look like an accident. When I’m done collecting samples, we’re going over the entire apartment checking for prints. Then we’re going to see if we can find a murder weapon because the blood on the nightstand looks smeared to me and I see spatter on the ceiling. That’s impossible if she fell and hit her head, and looks to me like someone hit her more than once and the spatter came from the murd
er weapon when it was raised in an arc.” She swung her arm up in the air to demonstrate.
“I can reach the ceiling.” Rowley took a swab kit from the bag. “I’ll collect samples from the spatter. You’ll need to match it to Mrs. Dean to prove your theory.”
Jenna smiled at him. “Okay, get at it. I’ll call Maggie to get onto the medical examiner’s office in Helena and she’ll be able to give me the undertaker’s number. We can store the body there for now.” She pulled out her phone and made the call. When she’d disconnected, she called the local undertaker. “Max Weems? Hi, this is Sheriff Alton. I’m sending you a body. It could be a murder victim and I don’t want it to be touched. Leave it in the body bag and keep it refrigerated. I’m waiting on advice from the medical examiner’s office in Helena.” She nodded to herself. “Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”
“What about notifying next of kin?” Rowley handed her an evidence bag to sign. “Does she have anyone in town?”
Jenna pulled out her notebook and flipped through the pages. “She mentioned her family was out of Grand Junction, Colorado. We’ll need to chase them down.” She smiled. “Now we have a reason to speak to Errol Dean. He’ll have all the information we need. I’ll call Walters and get him on it. I doubt he’s spoken to him yet.” She called Walters and explained. “Once you find her parents’ location, have the local cops pay them a visit. They’ll need a DNA sample from the mother, and any information we might need for a positive ID. The name of her dentist and physician would be good.” She stared at the wall. “Okay, get at it now, and call me the second you know anything.” Disconnecting, she pushed the phone back inside her pocket.
After the paramedics removed the body, Jenna set about collecting evidence. As luck would have it, they had Errol Dean’s fingerprints on record and, she doubted he’d visited Carol since the protective order was still in place—unless he’d killed her. They’d just about finished when Deputy Walters called. Jenna stared at the caller ID. She put the phone on speaker and pulled out her notebook. “What have you got for me?”
“Errol Dean was cooperative. He gave me all the information you wanted.” Walters sounded uncomfortable. “He broke down when I told him about his wife’s death and wanted to go see her. It made questioning him difficult, but he says he was in town with his brother, Lou, before the fire was reported. He said at the time they were at Aunt Betty’s Café. After, he went to the bank and noticed the fire department when he came out.”
Jenna made notes. “Where is Lou now? I want to speak to him.”
“Lou is staying with him.” Walters cleared his throat. “They’re both at home now but work nightshift at the meatpacking plant. I’ll send you the address.”
“Thanks.” Jenna disconnected, checked the crime scene once more, and then collected the evidence bags and handed them to Rowley. “There’s no sign of a murder weapon. I’ll check the dumpster before we leave. You head back to the cruiser and get the evidence into the containers. I’ll close the door and seal it with crime scene tape.”
“Do you figure Dean killed his wife and set the fire?” Rowley paused on the steps and looked back at her with his arms laden with bags.
Jenna nodded. “In murder following a spousal abuse case, the first person we look at is the husband. He had a motive. She was an ordinary person and as far as I can tell had no enemies. She was willing to stand up in court against him. That takes guts and also tells us she was terrified of him and wanted him locked away.” She wrapped the crime scene tape around the steps from one side to the other handrail. “The evidence points to him and you should disregard the reaction to his wife’s death. Most people are in shock and then break down. They don’t carry on like that immediately. In my opinion, if he cared about her so much, he wouldn’t have abused her.” She shrugged. “He slapped me too. It came natural to him… too darn natural.”
They found nothing in the dumpsters or during their search of the immediate area. Undeterred, Jenna climbed into the cruiser and put the coordinates for Dean’s residence into the GPS. The old device was taking its time finding a signal and she glanced at Rowley. “I guess you know where Pine is?”
“Yeah, out near the college. Head through town and take Stanton. I’ll show you where to turn.” Rowley glanced at his watch. “When we drop by Aunt Betty’s to validate their alibi, can we stop for a slice of pie? It’s a long time until supper.”
Jenna didn’t need an excuse to drop by Aunt Betty’s Café. The warm friendly atmosphere and amazing food had a magical charm, pulling in customers at an incredible rate. Being open from breakfast until the last customers left around eleven at night, seven days a week, was unusual for what was described as a small town to her, but she’d found herself in there for three meals a day. She drove through town and along Stanton. The highway, named after Stanton Forest, bordered the colossal expanse of dense pine trees that climbed the granite mountain ranges and nestled alongside Black Rock Falls, the wide and picturesque waterfall that fed the rivers and lakes all through Black Rock Falls County. In August the forest was alive with color, patches of wildflowers and shades of green and gold abounded, and the fresh fragrance born on the mountain air was enticing. Each time she drove close by, the need to stop and explore engulfed her with a longing. She glanced at Rowley. “When we get some downtime, can I borrow your mom’s mare and take a ride in the forest?” She allowed the wind blowing in her window to ruffle her hair. “No wonder people come here for a vacation. It’s so beautiful.”
“You shouldn’t go alone. It’s easy to get lost in there. I’ll have time over the weekend to take you to the res if you like. You must meet Atohi Blackhawk. He’s the best tracker around these parts and a nice guy. Do you mind if we take Dana?” Rowley’s neck pinked. “She’s my girl and might take it the wrong way if she sees me out with you when we’re not on duty.”
Surprised that he might believe someone of her age would be a threat or that people might consider she’d break every rule in the book and seduce a rookie, Jenna smiled. “Heavens no. I’d love to meet her and I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m about eight years your senior.”
“Eight years?” Rowley’s brows rose. “Oh, I figured you for about twenty-three.” He pointed ahead. “Next turn on the right.”
Jenna pulled the cruiser to the curb outside a log cabin. The garden had once been lovingly tended. Flowerbeds spilled over with blooms, but weeds had grown and the grass needed cutting. She headed to the front door and, using the flat of her hand, banged hard. The door flew open and Errol Dean glared down at her. For a man who’d just lost his beloved wife, his appearance was perfectly normal. She would have thought shedding a tear for Carol would have left his eyes red-rimmed.
“What the hell do you want?” Errol filled the door and soon another man, who from the likeness had to be his brother, Lou, joined him.
