Chapter 7
7
“ W here’s Buddy?” Kaelie dropped a thick file on the conference table at the local police station.
At the far end of the room, Arthur leaned against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. “Interrogation room two,” Arthur said with a tight jaw. Gunner had told her, or maybe warned her, that Arthur was worse than a mother bear when it came to his crew.
“And Duncan?” she asked. Changing the name from interrogation to interview didn’t change that she was about to question her new neighbor, and her lover.
Well, one night didn’t make for anything but a one-night stand.
“Room one.” Arthur’s short answer went along with her frazzled nerves.
“Are you all right with Edwin leading the questions?” Normally, she wouldn’t pass off any part of her investigation to another investigator, but in this instance, it was probably best to protect the integrity of the case.
“I’m okay with it, but I don’t understand why you’re not doing it. You barely know either one of my men.”
She sucked in a deep breath. If she didn’t tell Arthur about her little slumber party last night, she could make things worse in the long run.
“I want to watch from the viewing room.” She’d learned early on that sometimes you could learn more about a suspect and their potential role in a case by observation instead of taking the lead role.
“I want to be there too,” Arthur said.
“Not a problem, but I think I need to tell you something.”
“What’s that?” Arthur cocked his head. Gunner had also told her that Arthur could read people better than most, and based on his narrowed stare with one slightly curved eyebrow, he might have already suspected.
“Buddy and I, we… how do I put this?”
“I get it.” Arthur raised his hand. “Is that the real reason you don’t want to question my men?”
“That’s one reason.”
“Can you be impartial?” he asked.
“Can you?”
“Absolutely not,” he said with conviction. “I’ve served with those men in the Air Force. They followed me to the Aegis Network and here to the Jacksonville Fire Department. They have saved my life more than once. They are my brothers. I also know the angst between Buddy and Keith. It goes back a few years.”
“What is the source of their problems?”
“Keith is the source,” Arthur said matter-of-factly.
“There has to be more than that.”
Arthur nodded. “Nobody likes Keith. He’s a cocky son of a bitch who doesn’t follow the rules, and he’s put us in danger with that attitude, more than once.”
She pushed the folder across the table. “This is all the information I have on Keith and our investigation into him.”
“Give me the abridged version.”
“Five years ago, his half brother robbed a bank in North Carolina.”
Arthur pressed his knuckles on the table and leaned forward. “I didn’t know he had a half brother.”
“His name is Archer Henderson. Archer was the product of an affair their father had. He was apprehended shortly after the heist, but the authorities could never get him to give up his accomplices or where he hid the money. Three months ago, Archer’s new high-priced attorney managed to get a retrial based on some questionable police work, and the conviction was overturned.”
“So, Archer is a free man and you think that Keith was one of his partners in this bank heist.”
“It’s possible, but he had an alibi and even though his career isn’t without scars, he was dropped as a potential suspect.”
“But that’s changed?”
“When his brother was released, the FBI kept a close watch on Archer, and he made several phone calls to his brother and a week ago, he stopped by for a visit.”
“Seriously?”
“That’s when the Feds lost him and for whatever reason, they contacted us. My office questioned Keith about his brother, and he told us that there is no love lost between them and when he showed up, he kicked him to the curb. However, since Archer has become a ghost, and the FBI found some inconsistencies with Keith’s story, they started combing through his bank records, but nothing out of the ordinary popped up until recently. The fire has put our two offices together.”
“What has the FBI got?”
She flipped opened the folder. “On the day his brother was released from jail, Keith bought a Harley, with cash, and it’s not the one parked under the carport. Where is that bike?”
“I don’t know of any such purchase,” Arthur said, pushing off the table. “But I’m not close to the man. I honestly do my best to avoid him.”
“One other strange thing the FBI noticed was that Keith started withdrawing larger amounts of money than he normally had in the past, and this also started after his brother had been released.”
“How much money?”
“A thousand here, two grand there. All checks made out to himself or cash,” she said.
“I have to ask. Why is the FBI asking an internal affairs arson investigator about Keith?”
“Just doing their due diligence about an open case they had. It wouldn’t be the first time an alphabet agency came to us asking about employees who might have had run-ins with the law. It’s now become my problem because of the fire.”
“So, what are you thinking?”
“The Feds believe he’s helping his brother and when I spoke to the agent in charge, he’s positive his brother must have killed him for the money.”
“Which means perhaps he was part of the heist or had been holding the money all these years,” Arthur said as he paced at the end of the room.
“Or he didn’t know he had the money. Keith bought that house six months before the robbery.”
“That’s a lot of what-ifs with nothing substantial to back it up.” He folded his hands. “And has nothing to do with my men.”
She pursed her lips. “Except for the issue of the gas can, which Kent and Rex’s report clearly states an accelerant had been used.”
“But the can was stolen out of the back of Buddy’s truck.”
“So he says.” Her heartbeat became irregular as the words fell off her tongue.
“And you don’t believe him?” Arthur asked.
Of course she believed him, but she had to follow all leads. “Buddy has had more than one run-in with Keith and the most recent resulted in a fistfight. I have to consider that whatever ties Keith might or might not have with his brother, has nothing to do with his alleged murder.”
“Come on. You’re a smart lady. You really believe that?”
She shook her head. “But I can’t ignore the gas can, now can I?”
“No. I guess you can’t,” Arthur said, running a hand through his hair. “All right, let’s get this over with so you can rule out my men.”
“Hey, Arthur,” Kaelie said as she gathered up the file. “Can I count on Buddy to tell the truth, even if he thinks it will damage my reputation or my working on this case?”
“I’d lie for my wife, so be prepared for anything.”
Buddy had expected Kaelie to be sitting across the table in the interview room, not some guy from her office named Edwin.
“How well do you know Keith Jones?” Edwin asked with a blank expression.
“We’re not friends, but we both work as firefighters at the same station.”
“Are you enemies?”
Buddy had seen Edwin a time or two at different arson investigations. He was kind of hard to miss at six foot seven, but he hadn’t had any real interactions with him until today.
“No.” Buddy decided it was best to keep his answers short and to the point.
“But you got into a fistfight the other day, correct?”
“We did,” Buddy admitted, trying to contain his frustration. He figured he would be sitting in this chair for another hour, answering the same questions over and over again.
“Why?”
“He crashed a party he wasn’t invited to and made a dickhead comment about one of my co-workers.”
“What do you mean, a dickhead comment?” Edwin asked, his hands clasped together on the metal table.
“A sexist remark about a new crew member on my team. I didn’t take too kindly to it, not to mention I was drunk.” Buddy had always been more sensitive to those types of things because of his twin sister. Didn’t matter if whoever said the derogatory comment didn’t mean it.
“So, you just hauled off and punched him?”
“Not exactly. I asked him to leave, politely, but he got in my face. That’s when I hit him.”
“What happened next?” Edwin asked in the same monotone voice he had used for the last question.
“We both tossed a few more before my buddies broke it up, and then Keith left.”
“When did you next encounter Keith?”
“I didn’t. That was the last time I saw him.” Buddy wouldn’t feel bad about the fight, but his heart did drop to his stomach knowing that Keith was dead.
“So, he didn’t ask to borrow your gas can?”
“Nope.” And here came the fun questions. The ones where Edwin would try to get him to admit to something, or not.
“How do you suppose it ended up at his house?”
“I don’t know,” Buddy said, and that was the truth. He’d run through that day five times in his mind while waiting to be questioned, and he hadn’t a clue.
“When did you last see the can?”
“I put it in the back of my pickup, but I got called in to cover a shift, so instead of getting gas, I drove to work.”
“With the gas can in the back of your truck?” Edwin asked as he leaned back in his chair.
“Yes.”
“When did you notice it was missing?”
“When I stopped to get gas after the overnight shift. I had to borrow gas from a neighbor to mow the lawn,” Buddy said, shifting in the cold, hard seat.
“Your neighbor will corroborate your story?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do last night?”
Fuck. If he lied, he’d look guilty as hell when it came out. If he told the truth, he would be putting Kaelie in a difficult position. “I had dinner with a neighbor.”
“What neighbor?”
“Does it matter?” Buddy grappled with his conscience. The gentleman in him wouldn’t kiss and tell. Things with Kaelie were too new, and he wanted more time to see where things might go. Telling Edwin about his evening would put her under the microscope and right now, he figured that was the last thing she needed. “The fire wasn’t set the night before.”
“All right then, where were you this morning?”
“Home.” Hopefully Buddy wouldn’t have to elaborate. Lying by omission seemed less like lying.
“All morning?”
“No. I went to the grocery store before I got called to the fire.”
“How long where you gone?” Edwin asked.
“Forty-five minutes.”
“And what store did you go to? I mean, where was it in relation to your house and Keith’s.”
Well, that was a humdinger. “Two blocks from Keith’s.”
“That would be enough time to start a fire, especially by a man who knows more about fires than the laymen.”
“That’s all true, but I didn’t start the fire. I’ve got the receipt at home for the groceries, with time stamps. My roommate saw me leave for the store and return. May I go now?”
“I’m going to need to get the receipt.”
“Not a problem,” Buddy said behind gritted teeth. Five o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.