CHAPTER FOUR
Ben arrived at work on Monday to a new case on his desk. Over the weekend, a bar on Main Street had burned, and the on-call investigator had deemed it arson. When the address registered, his jaw dropped. He’d been at that very bar just hours before. Not for long, but still.
If Ben hadn’t already ordered a drink, he would have left right after Ian texted to say he was bailing. His coworkers had done some pre-game drinking and were acting like tipsy idiots, but he wasn’t about to waste a thirty-dollar a?ejo.
He’d immediately recognized the bartender as the pretty brunette from Maya’s basketball game. The thought of saying something to her crossed his mind, but he didn’t know how to without seeming like he was hitting on her. And there were plenty of guys doing that. No need to add him to the mix. From his seat at the booth, he watched as she flirted her way from guy to guy at the bar, stuffing tips into her cleavage left and right.
He refocused on the file in front of him. Then realized that as part of his investigation, he’d have to interview all the employees, including her. A timeline of events would need to be established, but also motive. And since nine times out of ten, a business arsonist turned out to be the owner, the staff would have valuable information. They could potentially be useful as character witnesses at trial too.
First thing, he called the insurance company and left a message. They had skin in the game and would want to know if foul play was suspected.
He reviewed the fire investigator’s preliminary notes of the scene. Unless the owner routinely soaked the counter in kerosene at night, it was definitely arson. The bar itself had no security, but the office next door had installed cameras in the back alley. Ben called to see if they would share the footage. If they wouldn’t give it willingly, he’d get a warrant, but there was no harm in asking first. The receptionist promised someone with the authority to make that decision would return his call soon.
Hugh came to his office around ten to talk over the case. Hugh was the other arson investigator on the team. The rest of the crew determined how the fire started. And if arson was suspected, Ben and Hugh were called in to figure out who started it.
“Elizabeth Parker owns the space,” Hugh said. “Pretty sure that’s one of the mayor’s daughters. Gonna have to tread carefully.”
“Great,” Ben said. He didn’t know the mayor, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he did. He pursued all of his investigations with the same amount of detail-oriented vigor. Cutting corners wasn’t in his wheelhouse, and this case would be no different. I’s would be dotted, and t’s would be crossed regardless of who owned the building.
“You know what’s crazy?” Ben said. “That’s where a bunch of us went to celebrate Decker’s promotion. That same night. A few hours before it burned, a dozen firefighters were there.”
“You went out with the guys?” Hugh asked, eyebrow inching upward.
“Not the point I was making,” Ben said.
“No, I get it. That is ironic.”
The insurance company called while Hugh was still sitting with him. Ben held up a finger to indicate Hugh should wait while he took the call.
“Have there been any recent changes to the policy?” Ben asked.
“Actually, yes,” the agent said. “About two months ago, Ms. Parker upped the insurance on that property to a million dollars. It was right around the same time she took out a new policy on another space she’d started leasing.”
“So, she’s moving or opening a second business?” Ben asked.
“Could be either or both. All I know is the current place has been on the market for over a year.”
Ben put his hand over the mouthpiece. “Jacked up the insurance and has been trying to sell with no luck.”
“Bingo,” Hugh said. “That’s your gal.”
“One thing,” the agent continued. “It could be that we prompted her into the increase. If we were writing up a new policy, it would make sense that we would have reviewed her current one and probably suggested an upgrade. It hadn’t been updated since she first got the policy several years ago.”
“Huh,” Ben said. “All right. Thanks for the info. I’m guessing you won’t pay out until we resolve this?”
“For sure. Now that we know it was arson, we’ll put a hold on it.”
Ben thanked her for her time and made notes detailing the conversation.
“Sounds pretty cut and dried,” Hugh said.
Ben didn’t like jumping to conclusions, but the insurance angle definitely didn’t help Ms. Parker’s chance of being cleared right away. Insurance fraud was more common than people thought.
“I’ll call her and set up a meeting ASAP. See if she’s got an alibi and take her phone for evidence.”
“You could solve it by Friday.” Hugh stood to go. “Just do everything by the book. If it is her, it will cause the mayor some grief.”
“You know I don’t do it any other way,” Ben said. Hugh gave a thumbs up on his way out.
Ben sifted through the file for a number, picked up the phone, and called Ms. Elizabeth Parker. There was no answer, so he left a message. When she called back, they agreed to meet at eleven o’clock at the coffee shop across from her bar.
In preparation, he contacted the court for an emergency warrant, which they emailed within the hour. He read through everything again, jotted down a few notes of things he wanted to ask her, packed his laptop, and left. Arriving ten minutes early, he ordered coffee and found a table in the back. That would give them relative privacy.
He was unprepared for who walked through the doors at precisely eleven o’clock. The blue-eyed bartender. The dark-haired fan from the basketball game. The first woman to capture his attention in a very long time. Holy crap. She wasn’t just a bartender. She was the owner. And now, she was his arson suspect. Just like at the game and the bar, she was dressed head-to-toe in black. Not that it mattered what she wore. Of course it didn’t.
The barista greeted her as Lizzie and handed her a cup as if she’d been waiting for her. Coffee in hand, she glanced around the room. When she made eye contact, he held up a hand and she started toward him.
“Hey,” she said, sliding off her coat and draping it on the chair back. “A?ejo neat guy…Ben, right? I’m Lizzie. Lizzie Parker.”
The hand she offered was still warm from the coffee cup she held. He stood and shook it.
“Ben Mansfield,” he said. “Please, sit down.” He sucked in a breath. This didn’t change anything. So he thought she was cute. Big deal.
“So, what the hell happened?” She picked up her cup and crossed her legs, ready to get right down to business.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he said, watching her carefully. She seemed remarkably cool under the circumstances.
“Huh.” Her brows knitted. “I’m not the fire expert. You are. Someone said it was arson. Are you gonna be able to figure out who did it?”
“That’s my job. Where were you Saturday night from two to three am?”
In her eyes, he saw the second she realized the question’s implication. Indignation, then annoyance, flashed over her face.
“Look, if you think I did this, you’re wasting your time. I worked that night. I saw you just a few hours before the fire.”
“That was around ten. It doesn’t account for the rest of your evening.”
She glared. “I was home in bed when I got the call about the fire.”
“I have to cover all angles,” he said, feigning casualness but watching closely for any sign of deception or nervousness. “Were you alone?”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”
“It actually is my business.” His tone was more curt than he’d intended, but she was pushing buttons he didn’t know existed. “I’m going to need names and phone numbers for all of your employees.”
“I’ll email it,” she said. “Is this why the insurance company says they won’t settle yet? Did you tell them you think I set the fire?”
He ignored her question. “They told me you recently upped the coverage on the bar. And that you’ve had it on the market for some time.” His accusation hung between them.
“Yeah, so?” She seemed more irritated than guilty.
He raised his eyebrows. “You can see how that might look suspicious.”
“The only reason I increased the amount was because the insurance company told me I had to. They said it was underinsured and wouldn’t grant me coverage for my new place until I updated the policy for The Drop. I didn’t have a choice. You can call them and verify it.”
“Maybe upping the insurance is what gave you the idea to burn it down.” He wasn’t sure where the antagonistic attitude was coming from. Normally, he was professional above all else. This woman got under his skin, and he had no idea why. She glared her response. He took a breath and readjusted.
“I’ll check with them,” he said. That actually jibed with what the woman he’d talked to that morning had said. He’d call back and speak to the exact agent who handled Lizzie’s file. That person should know the details of how it went down. “What about trying to sell it?”
“What about it? That’s no secret. I’m opening another location and want to unload this one.”
“Would it put you in a bind to run both?”
“I won’t know that until they’re both running now, will I?”
“Your attitude isn’t scoring you any points,” he said. Her sassy smirk said she didn’t care diddly squat about points.
“This is ridiculous. I’m innocent.”
“Then you won’t mind if I take your phone?”
“What?” That finally got a reaction out of her. “Of course I mind. My whole life is on that thing.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out as a question. I’m taking your phone.”
“You can’t just take my stuff without reason. Don’t I have some rights?”
“I do have reason.” He reached into his attaché and pulled out a piece of paper. “And a warrant. For your phone and anything from the bar I deem as evidence.”
Her mouth opened and closed twice, but apparently, she had no smart comeback for his declaration. Shock and anger played across her face. Fiery blue eyes burned a hole in his. He waited patiently while she sipped her coffee and used the time to skim the warrant. Finally, she pulled her phone from her pocket. She held it up but made no move to hand it to him.
“Can I text my family to tell them what’s happening?”
In response, he reached over and grabbed the phone. She had a death grip on it, and he had to tug a few times before she reluctantly released it. He slipped it into a plastic evidence bag and then into his attaché.
“You’re wasting your time with me,” she said again.
“Nine times out of ten, business arson is the owner.”
“Well, I’m the exception.”
“Of course you are,” he muttered. “Look, if I can clear you, I’ll move on to other suspects. That will happen much faster if you give me the password for your phone. If I have to go through the phone company, it’ll take forever.”
She seemed to be thinking, and he wondered if she would pull the my-daddy’s-the-mayor card. It wouldn’t make a bit of difference to Ben, but it would tell him a little about her. He had to admit a touch of respect when she didn’t.
“We’re done here,” she said, standing. “Apparently, I need a lawyer. You can talk to him or her once I find one.”
He did his best not to stare as she walked away, but his best wasn’t good enough, and he watched as she stormed out, hips and long ponytail swinging.
Woo boy. Calm yourself, Mansfield. She’s a suspect, too young for you, and you have a daughter to worry about. He jotted down the gist of their conversation while it was still fresh in his mind. Then packed his things, ordered another coffee to go, and headed back to the station.
He called the insurance company again and asked to speak with the specific agent who had helped Lizzie. The man confirmed that they had insisted Lizzie would need to up the amount on The Drop in order to get the new policy. So, that part was true. Ben requested the agent put that information in writing and email it to him at his earliest convenience.
Not long after their meeting, Lizzie had emailed a list of employee names. After the list was a curt note saying that their phone numbers were in her phone and unavailable to her at the time. He found numbers for a few in their CAD system and started setting up interviews.
Lizzie’s phone sat in the evidence bag on the corner of his desk. He’d already called the phone company, knowing they were notorious for dragging their feet in these situations. Perhaps, once Lizzie hired an attorney, Ben could talk him or her into having Lizzie offer up the password. That way would be quicker and smoother, but Lizzie seemed pretty stubborn.
To get a feel for her personality, and maybe a glance at her character, he searched her social media sites. He didn’t expect posts detailing how she burned down her business, but he’d learned you could tell a lot about a person just by what they shared with the world.
She only had a profile on one site, and even that was sparse—mostly just pictures of a ginormous dog. That, in and of itself, raised suspicion. Didn’t women her age live on social media and post ad nauseam? He caught himself. That was stereotyping, and he was in the business of facts.
He also had to concede that she seemed somewhat atypical of most women—tough, independent, and no-nonsense. That was what had drawn his attention to her at the basketball game and the bar. So much for his good instincts.
It was too bad she didn’t have a solid alibi. That would have helped immensely.
When she’d said she slept alone, a flicker of something ran through him, but he didn’t take the time to analyze what that something could be. From his investigation, he knew she wasn’t married. And what would he care if she had a boyfriend? Dax made it sound like she got around. Maybe she wasn’t into long-term. Not that he cared. And not that it made any difference to his case.
Midafternoon, Lizzie’s phone blew up with messages. It was on vibrate, but every few seconds, it would skid across his desk, announcing something. The uptick in activity seemed incongruent after complete silence for the last few hours. Even without a passcode, he could see the first line or so of multiple notifications. Text after text, asking where she was and demanding that she call ASAP. He caught the words ambulance, hospital, Dad, and call now! From what he could piece together, it appeared her dad had been taken to the hospital. Her dad. The mayor.
With a sick feeling in his stomach, he called dispatch and asked if there had been an aid call for the mayor. Sure enough, he was being transported to the hospital for a myocardial infarction—the fancy name for a heart attack. Damn it!
He knew Lizzie’s address from the background check he’d done and was at her condo in less than ten minutes. At his knock, a deep bark rang out in warning. Through the door, he heard her tell the dog it was okay and to sit. When she opened the door, her face fell. “Now what?”
“You need to come with me,” Ben said.
Alarm crossed her face. “Are you arresting me?”
“Oh, no,” he said. “Sorry. It’s your dad. He’s been taken by ambulance to the hospital. I figured without your phone, you might not know.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she took a step back. Tears filled her eyes. The tough and tenacious woman he’d met a few hours ago almost fell apart in front of him.
“Come on. I’ll drive you.”
Before he could blink, she rushed out the door. He had to hustle to catch up. On the short drive to the emergency room, she sat tensely, gripping her knees, determined to hold it together.
“Do you know anything about how he is?” she finally asked.
“I’m sorry, I don’t. Just that he had a heart attack, and that aid transported him.”
“My uncle died of a heart attack less than six months ago.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated lamely. In his peripheral vision, he saw she was crying silently, and his heart pulled for her. She must be terrified that the same thing would happen to her dad.
He tried to put himself in her shoes. Or think of her as if she were Maya getting news that he was in the hospital. Without thinking, he grabbed her hand and squeezed. She squeezed back and held tight, not letting go until they entered the ER parking lot. He pulled up to the front doors. Without a backward glance, she jumped out and jogged inside. Her family would take care of her from here.
Driving back to the office was hard, with the bricks of guilt on his shoulders. What if her dad passed away? And she arrived too late to say goodbye because of him? Sure, he was just doing his job, but she wouldn’t see it that way. And quite frankly, if that’s what happened, he would carry the burden forever. He shook his head. No sense in thinking like that.
Obviously, she wouldn’t be hiring a lawyer today. She had more important things to worry about. He tried to work on other cases but continuously had to push away the image of Lizzie crying and the feeling of her hand in his.