Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
WEST
G riffen watched his sisters stride across the entry hall to the stairs, then turned back to me. “Got a minute?”
I followed him to his office, taking a seat in one of the armchairs opposite his desk.
“You need a coffee?” Griffen asked.
I shook my head. “I’ll get one later.”
“What’s the plan?” Griffen asked.
I propped my ankle on my knee. “The plan is I find out who set that fucking fire.”
Griffen nodded. “If you need any help?—”
I shook my head. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that. I want to do this thing by the book. I don’t want there to be any question that Avery is innocent.”
“And you’re sure—” Griffen began.
I squinted and shook my head. “There’s no way she did it. I can’t believe you’d even ask,” I said.
Griffen shrugged a shoulder. “Avery’s got a pretty good moral compass,” he said. “Always has. And I absolutely can’t see her burning down a fellow brewer’s place, but...” Griffen shrugged again, lifting his chin. “If you’d told me the brewmaster’s house had burned to the ground?—”
I barked out a laugh. “I might have been a little less sure if that were the case,” I agreed. “Though Avery has too much class to play games like that with her ex.”
“Good point,” Griffen agreed. “You’ll keep me posted?”
“Of course. I’m not going to let her get railroaded like Ford. It’s not happening,” I said, knowing Griffen would understand why I’d let Ford go to prison but would do anything to keep Avery from the same fate.
I didn’t have to tell my best friend I was in love with his sister.
The fact that I’d gotten her out of jail, when by all rights she should still be sitting there, told him everything he needed to know.
It also saved us an awkward, mushy conversation neither of us wanted to have.
One of the many benefits of a long friendship.
Griffen sat back in his chair, propping his ankle on his knee in a mirror of my position. His eyes level on mine, he asked, “You coming to Thanksgiving?”
“Yep,” I said. “Avery invited me and my parents. Already asked my dad—he says they’re in.”
“Good deal,” Griffen said, nodding.
And now Griffen knew I wasn’t just in love with his sister, but that this was serious—again saving us a conversation we didn’t really want to have.
I’d grown up running in and out of this house, never thinking I’d feel like a part of the family.
But now, sitting in my best friend’s office in perfect accord over my relationship with his sister, one I hadn’t seen coming and would fight to the death to keep, a warm glow spread in my chest that offset my worry over Avery.
I had no doubt I was going to find who set that fire.
There was no room for failure, and I wasn’t alone.
Avery would be better off in the long run if I could do this by the book, but if I couldn’t, Griffen had access to all sorts of ways to solve this problem that I’d normally never touch.
But this was Avery. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her safe.
I stood. “I’ll be back for dinner. I want her to stay here at Heartstone, out of sight. She’s on lockdown. If anyone comes to the house, make sure they don’t see her.”
“Got it,” Griffen agreed, then paused. “Be careful out there. If she hadn’t gotten out of that fire?—”
I nodded in agreement. “Whoever set that fire wasn’t overly worried about killing her.” I rubbed the heel of my palm on my chest to chase off the icy hollow of fear.
“Yeah, well, you can’t clear her name if they take you out too,” Griffen reminded me.
“I’m aware,” I agreed. “I’ll keep you posted,” I said with a short nod and strode out the door.
I had an arsonist to find and Avery’s name to clear.
And the clock was ticking.
I left Heartstone Manor behind, knowing time was running short. I couldn’t keep Avery caged forever. Her business was closed, losing money every day, and the judge’s orders would only keep her out of jail for so long.
Matthew was the obvious suspect. He had a motive. Almost anyone had the means. But arson was a big step from spreading gossip. Going after her business reputation and sabotaging her relationships with other brewers was one thing. But if she hadn’t been able to get that door open?—
I pushed the thought away. She had. She’d escaped with a few bruises and a sore throat. She’d been extraordinarily lucky, all things considered.
I had a lot of problems. One of them was that I couldn’t know if Avery getting trapped in Wild Haven was intentional or an accident.
The whole thing had been fairly basic: lure her to the location, set it on fire.
Gas wasn’t a sophisticated accelerant. Anyone could get it, and everyone knew it would start a fire.
I already had my deputies checking the local stations to see if anyone remembered someone filling up gas cans, but the town was busy with leaf season. So far, no one remembered a thing.
Zeroing in on Matthew, while tempting, wasn’t the answer. If the evidence pointed his way, great. But I wouldn’t run the risk of missing the real culprit by assuming I knew what was going on. Been there, done that. I’d start with the evidence.
Before that, I called Cammie and Dave, explaining only that Avery had a family situation and Sawyers Bend Brewing would be closed for the next few days.
Dave had asked, “Avery okay?”
When I assured him she was, he’d answered, “Cool. I’m going to go see my brother in Chattanooga. Tell her to text when she’s ready to reopen, and I’ll hop back. Cool?”
“Sounds good,” I assured him.
Cammie had seemed more troubled. “But I need my hours. Rent’s coming due, you know? ”
“It’ll only be for a few days,” I’d said, not sure if that was true or not.
“Well, can I talk to Avery?” she asked, a faint whine in her voice.
“Not right now. Like I said, she has a family thing.”
“You sure I can’t just go in and open?” she wheedled.
“Avery will let you know when she’s ready to reopen,” I said. “For now, Sawyers Bend Brewing is closed. No one should be on the property. Understand?”
“Okay, I guess.” She’d hung up, leaving me curious about her reaction.
Cammie had closed the night of the break-in.
She swore she’d locked the door, but we only had her word for it.
And now she hadn’t asked about her boss or what the family emergency was—only worried she wouldn’t make her hours for the week.
On one hand, I got it. We all need money to live, and Cammie had rent to pay.
On the other hand, her lack of concern about Avery felt off.
I tucked the mental note in the back of my mind for the future.
It could be nothing, or it could be something.
I parked my SUV in the lot of the county fire department and sent Avery a quick text.
If Cammie calls, don’t talk to her. Let it go to voicemail.
The answer came back immediately.
You already told me not to talk to anyone. Don’t worry. I’m bugging Finn and staying out of trouble. I promise.
A tight feeling in my chest relaxed a fraction. She’d promised she’d keep her head down, but I couldn’t discount Sterling’s influence. If Finn was keeping her occupied with plans for their joint venture, it would take her longer to get restless.
The County Fire Marshal was expecting me. After getting checked in at the front desk, I headed back to his office, taking the seat he offered.
“What have you found?” I asked. Henry Boone had been the Fire Marshal for a decade, after serving as the Deputy Fire Marshal for almost fifteen years. We weren’t buddies, but we’d known each other most of our lives. I trusted his judgement, and as far as I knew, he trusted mine.
I wasn’t surprised when he sat back in his desk chair, raising one bushy gray eyebrow, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I hear you’re dating the prime suspect, who also happens to be Griffen Sawyer’s younger sister. Correct?”
I nodded. “True.”
“If it were anyone else, West, I’d say we had a real conflict of interest here. But considering you threw her brother in jail when you had to, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. I can tell you this is interesting.”
“Interesting how?” I asked.
Henry shrugged, dropping his arms to his sides before picking up the papers on his desk.
“Report says a call went out about a trespasser matching Avery Sawyer’s description carrying gas cans.
It’s impossible to tell from the 911 call if the caller was a man or a woman.
The voice is scratchy—could be modified, could be a bad line.
The timing is a little fuzzy. They say they saw her at 4:45 p.m. That could be accurate.
But Jim verified that the text telling her to come to Wild Haven came in at 4:38 p.m. It’s possible she got the text at 4:38 p.m. and was on site by 4:45 p.m. with those gas cans, but.
..” He tipped his head from side to side. “It’s unlikely.”
I nodded. “Possible, but difficult, especially with weekend traffic clogging up town.”
“Exactly,” he agreed. “We know Avery was in the building. She says she went in to meet with Bob, though Bob was in Hickory for the day with family, and the brewery is usually closed on Sundays, anyway. The fire was started from the inside, against the north wall, using an accelerant—gasoline — based on what we saw inside and with tests of the residue in the cans.”
He leaned forward to open a file on his monitor, turning the screen so I could see the pictures of the scene. My heart chilled as I imagined Avery trapped in the center of the destruction.