AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Wait, thewhole housewas gone?” Sicily sat forward, suddenly even more interested. “Like, ‘burnt to the ground’ kind of gone?”
“Kind of,” Dean leaned and arched his hands on the table. “Which is strange, considering there aren’t a lot of house fires out there in the sticks, especially not ones that progress that far.”
“Forest fire?” Sicily asked.
Dean shook his head and I was surprised he was explaining any of this to her at all. Of course, she was beyond pushy. “There wasn’t any evidence of a forest fire, and the fire seemed to start in the bedroom, which was odd, considering there was no fireplace or anything else that would lend itself to starting an inferno in there.”
Sicily frowned—the kind of frown she got when an inconsistency popped up in one of her mystery books she used to read. It was a thoughtful face, and I couldn’t help but wait with some anticipation while she thought about something and then narrowed her eyes in Dean’s direction.
“Could it have been an electrical fire?” She put a forkful of Kraft into her mouth. “Maybe an outlet blew and the owners were out of the house?”
I hummed. I hadn’t thought of that. “I mean, that’s fair. Most of these houses were built by hand, anyway, so faulty wiring could be an easy cause.”
“It could be, but not the case this time,” Dean said somberly.
He turned, reaching into his jacket pocket, and produced that same notebook I’d seen him writing in at the crime scene. “This morning I took some time to look up some information on the Thatchers to see what I could find.”
“Thatchersas in plural?” I asked.
He looked at me and nodded. “Ethan Thatcher was married,” he started.
“Is married,” I corrected. “We don’t know that he’s dead.”
“Right,” Dean said as Sicily crossed herself. “Ethan Thatcher is married and has two kids.”
“Lord, I hope they all got out,” Sicily said. I looked at her and nodded as Dean continued.
“Getting that information was harder than I thought it would be, but Mason helped me out and eventually, we found an Ethan Thatcher who had been living in Damnation County for a few decades.” He flipped some of the pages and pushed the notebook towards us, showing off his neat, if somewhat confusing shorthand notes. “Couldn’t find much more about his family, but we did figure out that he was completely off the grid. No internet, no phones, and no electricity. He used a wood-burning stove, which we found in the house itself. I also brought Deputy Drayton there to have a look around and I found what looked to be evidence of an accelerant leading up to the house.” He sat back with folded arms, face grim.
“When were you going to tell me all that?” I asked, frowning at him.
He grinned back at me. “Tonight?”
I frowned again.
“This wasn’t an accident,” he continued. “But we don’t know who did it, or how Ethan Thatcher is involved.”
I was struck silent for a moment. With a little twist in my gut, I thought about how impressive it was to watch a man who knew what he was doing, but even the little attraction monkey in my brain was taken aback by one piece of this new information in particular.
“Dean,” I started, tilting my head, “How’d you know what anaccelerantline looks like?” That just seemed outside the pay grade of a sheriff and more along the job description of a firefighter.
Dean’s expression shifted a bit. I continued to look at him, scanning every slight movement he made, but he wouldn’t meet my eye as he bent over to casually take the last bites of his dinner.
“I did a rash of arson cases with the city police back in Branson,” he said finally, the words dripping with forced simplicity. “It wasn’t for very long. They needed extra hands.”
“Guess you learn something new every day!” My words were pointed, and though he met my eyes briefly, all he did was shrug. Sicily’s eyes darted between us and she cleared her throat, though I didn’t take my eyes from Dean’s face.
“Well, Sheriff Dean, do you think you can use that know-how to try and figure out what happened with the Thatcher fire?” Sicily asked. “What else did you do with your department?”
I rested my elbow on the table and watched the sheriff stiffen.
“Not muchelse,” Dean replied with a shrug. “This isn’t my area of expertise.”
“But you just said,” Sicily started.
“What I learned in Branson with the fire department isn’t going to help me much here,” Dean interrupted, frowning.
My temper rose up and I put my chin in my hands, raising a brow at him. “So how do we move forward with this case then?”
