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“That would be my guess, but I’ve called in the arson investigator. Place went up all at one time. Doesn’t seem to be any starting point.”
Edwards excused himself when one of his men called him over, and I was left alone with Jack.
“Why’d they do it? George is already dead.”
“They’re sending a message. This is what happens when you try to leave the group. This is what happens when you stop being useful. I need to put men on George’s parents and grandparents, just in case they try to take the message further. Give me a minute to call it in.”
I stared in awe at the blaze as Jack stepped off to the side to talk on the phone. There was something hypnotic in the way the flames seemed to dance from side to side—seductive one minute and quick and angry the next. Everyone around stood completely transfixed as the fire ate away at metal and wood. The walls shrieked an eerie sound that had the hair on my arm raising as they began to collapse.
I felt Jack beside me before he said anything. “Don’t look now, but Floyd Parker is barreling his way over here. Try not to hit him.”
I couldn’t help but freeze at the thought of seeing Floyd Parker again. He’d been the one to stir up trouble after my parents had died. He’d been the one to first suggest that their drive off a cliff had been a rage induced double suicide. But his ability to report everything but the truth found new heights once the FBI started questioning me. He’d been the first to report about the smuggling they’d done using the funeral home.
The headline had read:Loved Ones Are Receptacles At Graves’ Funeral Home?He’d even offered to let me use it as a tagline for our business cards. But Floyd had laced the facts with so much conjecture that I was surprised a mob hadn’t formed outside the funeral home to burn it down the morning after his column had appeared on the first page of the paper. Of course, there’d been a lot of truth in his article as well, so I could see why people were angry.
I relaxed my jaw when I felt my teeth start to grind together, and I watched him with what I hoped was bored indifference as he came toward us. Floyd was a big man. He’d played football at Virginia Tech, and if I was being completely objective, I’d admit that he was attractive in an overgrown jock sort of way. But looks were skin deep. He had the personality of a troll.
My resentment of Floyd was also magnified by the fact that I’d been dumb enough to sleep with him while I’d been in med school. He’d kept that secret about as well as he kept any secret. Meaning not at all.
“Sheriff,” Floyd called out. “I’d like to ask you some questions.” I was annoyed to see Floyd was perfectly put together in pressed khakis and a pale blue dress shirt. He held the red notebook he habitually carried in his left hand as he prepared to scribble furiously with his right.
“We’re not making statements to the press at this time, Floyd. The investigation is ongoing.” Jack tried to maneuver the both of us around him, but Floyd blocked our escape.
“Which investigation are you not commenting on?” he asked. “Or maybe you’d like to comment on the fact that crime in Bloody Mary has tripled since you’ve been sheriff. Not good with an election year coming up.”
Jack didn’t acknowledge and tried to move around him again, and I could all but feel my hackles start to rise at the insult.
“How about you, J.J? Got anything to add?”
“You look like you’re spreading a little around the middle. Maybe lay off the donuts.”
Floyd’s shark-like smile turned a little mean as he took a step closer. But I didn’t back down. I’d looked into the eyes of a killer before. And Floyd would never be anything but a spoiled child in a man’s body.
“You’ve been parking your car at the Sheriff’s house since you’ve been back.” He looked me up and down insultingly. “I guess all those bills got too hard to pay. Better watch out, Sheriff. She’ll have a ring on your finger before you know what happened.”
“I certainly hope so,” Jack said. His tone of voice was pleasant enough, but Floyd backed up at the look on Jack’s face. “I didn’t realize you were reporting the society pages now. As you can see, we have a job to do here, so I’m going to have to ask you to move back behind the perimeter.”
We walked away, Jack’s hand on the small of my back, but I was still shaking from the encounter.
“I hate that man,” I said.
“Yeah, but the good news is that you didn’t pass out or try to run away when he mentioned marriage.”
“I was just trying to present a united front.”
Jack’s teeth gleamed white as he smiled. “That’s my girl. Look there,” he said, gesturing about fifteen feet to my right.
I looked over and saw Wormy Mueller, hands fisted at his hips as he watched the blaze. His face was lined with anger, and his eyes were filled with—sadness. His thinning hair was uncombed, as if he’d just jumped out of bed and come running. I looked around and saw several people had the same look about them.
“We need to talk to him,” Jack said.
“I don’t know, Jack. Look at him. He looks devastated. We could be wrong about him.”
Jack sighed. “That’s the great thing about murder investigations. I guarantee you every person we’ve talked to so far has lied about something. It’s the way of the world. Wormy won’t be any different. My job is to figure out whose lies are relevant. And Wormy could be letting us see exactly what we he wants right now.”
“You’re always so full of cheer and sunshine.”
“It’s clearly why we belong together. And I’m sure I’ll get over the smell of embalming fluid eventually.”
