Chapter 27 #2
“For the fire, right? Sure, sure, yeah. Come in.” He led me into the building, stopping short as we both encountered the haze of smoke and the pungent scent of weed.
“I just want to see the camera, bud,” I said, and he visibly relaxed.
“Yeah, cool, okay.” He led me through stacks of what I would call junk—an ancient broken highchair with a Formica tray, a pile of lawn ornaments that looked like windmills, a row of stacked doors in various states of decay.
“You sell a lot of this stuff?” I asked, trying to imagine who would want any of it.
He brightened and shot me a bleary grin. “You’d be surprised. I polish up some of this junk and take it down to the flea market. Most of it moves. Enough to make a living, you know?”
If he said so. I’d seen enough of the local flea markets to know one person’s junk was another’s treasure.
The cramped office in the back corner of the building was dim, the overhead light flickering.
The computer monitor on the desk, a sleek flat screen, looked new, as did the black box on the desk with blinking lights.
“Guess it’s not a tape.” He turned on the monitor and poked at the black box.
“Like I said, my brother-in-law set it up for me. Just give me a sec to remember.” He poked a few buttons.
Nothing happened. “Uh, hold on.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket, tapped the screen a few times.
“Hey Dan, listen, I’m trying to get into the camera on the barn to see what happened yesterday.
I can’t remember how to pull it up on the screen. ”
I listened as his brother-in-law walked him through the steps on speakerphone, half afraid he was going to hit the wrong button and delete the footage before I got a chance to check it. That luck I’d been hoping for came through, and he pulled up the footage I was looking for.
“Any way you can zoom in on that corner?” I reached out to trace the section that caught Wild Haven’s parking lot and front door.
The voice from the phone answered, “It doesn’t really do that. You’d have to download the footage. If you find something you’re looking for, I can tell you how.”
“All right, good to know,” I said, and waited, watching the events of the day before unfold on the screen.
The camera system didn’t run nonstop. Instead, it took five-second clips every minute.
Clip after clip, the lot remained empty.
At 4:37 p.m., a car appeared. Not Matthew’s truck.
This was a compact two-door I didn’t recognize.
It parked in the far corner of the lot. A tall male figure appeared beside it.
In the next clip, his back was to the camera, but height, frame, and hair color were all a fit for Matthew Holt.
The next five-second chunk of footage showed that figure at the front door.
In the next, the figure was gone. The car remained.
The next person I saw was Avery. Her car was parked next to the door as she pushed the front door open and disappeared inside.
In the next short clip, the gas cans appeared beside her car, and the vehicle in the corner of the lot was gone.
Then, a harrowing five-second clip of Avery pounding at the glass door with a metal chair as smoke poured from the north side of the building.
At this distance, I couldn’t see the fear on her face, but I didn’t need to see it to feel her terror.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “How do I download a copy of this? All right with you if I do?”
“Ah, sure, Chief. Whatever you need.”
The brother-in-law carefully explained how to export the file and email it to me. I thanked him and the scruffy guy for their help and headed back into town, my teeth grinding at the desire to drive back to Bear Run Brewing and beat the ever-loving shit out of Matthew Holt.
That fucking smug bastard. It wasn’t enough that he’d tried to ruin Avery’s reputation.
The spiteful little shit couldn’t leave it at that.
No, he’d tried to get her arrested and almost ended up killing her, destroying another brewer’s business in the process.
I didn’t have enough to arrest him, not without a clear view of his face on the security camera, which I didn’t have, not if I wanted to make it stick.
But I would. Because one thing I knew—Matthew was not getting away with this.
When I had what I needed, he was going down, and Avery wouldn’t have to worry about him ever again.
The business of being police chief got in the way of my investigation for the rest of the day.
We were nearing the end of leaf season, but the town was still overrun with tourists, keeping my people hopping.
I made it back to Heartstone just in time for dinner, sliding into my seat beside Avery with a nod for Griffen at the other end of the table.
“You going stir-crazy yet?” I asked.
Her dark eyes sparkled with humor. “Not yet, but I may be making Finn crazy. I invaded his kitchens to talk about our project and ended up bullying him into letting me help cook.”
“Did you make this?” I nodded to the meal Savannah and April were serving. It looked like something with pasta.
Avery rolled her eyes. “Cooking might be a stretch. I sliced some things.” She leaned forward and snagged a piece of garlic bread from the platter at our end of the table.
“You know, I never think about brewing like cooking, but not being able to go into the brewery, not knowing how long this is going to take... I don’t know.
It left me wanting to make something. Finn let me get in his way to shut me up. ”
“I don’t think it’ll be too long until you can get back to your beer,” I said, wishing I could give her a guarantee.
“Nothing solid?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Did you talk to Sterling?” I asked, pretty sure Avery had been Sterling’s second phone call after she’d gotten her info on Matthew, if not her first. Avery nodded.
“What she gave me was helpful,” I said, “but so far, it’s not enough. Not yet. Can you wait for the rest until after dinner? I need to talk to Griffen and Hawk.”
She smiled up at me, curling her palm over my thigh under the table. “I can wait. Thanks, West.”
“For what?” I asked, temporarily distracted by her hand on my leg.
“For being you, I guess. I hate all of this. This whole situation sucks. But it’s temporary.” She squeezed my leg. “Because we’re going to figure it out.”
“Absolutely,” I promised, a little staggered by her trust. “I’m not going to let you down, Avery.”
“Not even a question, West.” She leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder for a second. “Any crazy tourist stuff happen today?”
I told her about a toddler who’d gotten his hand stuck in a candy jar in the general store because he wouldn’t relax his fist-full of gummy bears long enough to pull his arm free. I loved the way she laughed, tipping her head back, the sound full-throated and joyful.
I’m sure there was conversation around us as we ate, but I didn’t hear it—happy to end my day sitting next to Avery. After dessert, a wild berry crumble, I nodded to Griffen. He raised his chin in return.
“What was that?” Avery asked, looking between us.
“Meeting in Griffen’s office,” I explained.
She smiled and shook her head. On the way down the hall, her hand slid into mine, and she tugged. I looked down to see her eyes hesitant, her smile a little tentative.
“Keep an open mind, okay?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, sudden nerves tightening in my stomach.
Avery didn’t answer, just nudged me ahead of her into Griffen’s office. Hawk was already there.
“What did you find out?” Griffen asked, ignoring his desk, to sit on the sofa closest to the fireplace. Avery and I sat opposite him, while Hawk remained standing. “Did you get anything?”
“Not enough to make a solid arrest, but enough that I know Holt’s our guy,” I said, and filled them in on the investigation so far.
“You can’t arrest him with that?” Avery asked.
Hawk answered before I could. “He could probably get a judge to sign off on it. But West wants more than just enough to make an arrest. He wants something rock solid. Grab Holt too early, and he could spook and hide his trail.”
I nodded. “I’m going to arrest this guy, Avery, but I’m going to do it when I know I won’t have to let him go, when I know he can’t snake free. He could have killed you. The last thing I want is for him to be on guard.”
“He thinks I’m under arrest, right?” Avery asked.
“Technically, you are. You’re just not sitting in jail.”
“But Matthew wouldn’t expect me to stay in jail,” she said. “There’s no judge in this part of the state that wouldn’t grant bail to a Sawyer.”
“Unless you murdered another Sawyer,” I said, thinking of Ford.
“Good point,” she agreed. “You were at Wild Haven. How bad is it?”
“It’s bad,” I said. “The structure is going to need to be rebuilt. Some of the equipment may have made it.”
“That sucks,” she said, looking down at the rug beneath her feet. “Bob doesn’t deserve to be caught in whatever this is with Matthew. How could he do that?”
No one answered her question. Griffen stood, paced to the tall French doors, and looked out into the dark gardens behind the Manor. When he turned, I didn’t like the look on his face. He had that same hesitance I’d seen in Avery, and beneath that, a resolve that made me sit straighter.
“What?” I asked.
“We have an idea,” he said, “but you aren’t going to like it.”