Chapter 5
Mitch sat at his kitchen table, laptop open, screen frozen on the blurry figure behind the dumpster. His cracked rib throbbed, but he ignored it. Pain he could handle. What he couldn’t handle were unanswered questions.
Someone had torched Petal Pushers, and Izzy was inside when it happened. That made it personal. Or careless, but either way, she was in danger, and this should be an attempted murder investigation.
He picked up his phone and dialed Jayson Davis, a former security analyst he served with in the military, and a man who could dig up information faster than most people could blink.
“Mitch. Thought you were done calling in favors.”
“I’ll be done when people stop setting buildings on fire. I need a background check, Delilah Parker, Blossom Springs, Florida. Owns the nail salon next to the flower shop that went up yesterday.”
“Got it. Give me an hour.”
Mitch hung up and scribbled a few notes on a legal pad. The suspect on the footage wasn’t just loitering, they’d waited. Calculated. The fire didn’t seem like some petty revenge stunt. It was targeted.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
He opened it to find Trey Fielding holding a brown evidence envelope.
“You alone?” Trey asked.
“Always,” Mitch said, stepping aside.
Trey walked in and handed him the envelope. “Partial print on the gas can lid. Nothing conclusive yet, but we’re running it through local and state databases.”
Mitch opened the envelope and glanced at the photo and debris inside. “Anything else?”
Trey scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. We canvassed a couple of the local businesses this morning. Talked to Delilah at the salon.”
Mitch arched an eyebrow. "And?"
“She was edgy. Claimed she had no plans to expand, but she got jumpy when we asked where she was around 7:30 yesterday morning.”
“No alibi?”
“Says she was home. Alone. No one was with her. Said her assistant, Travis, was running some errands for her.”
Mitch leaned against the table. “Sadie’s boyfriend's name is Travis.”
"Yes, one and the same. He does night-time security in town for the feed mill. Odd jobs during the day."
"But this was during a time when he should have been working. Or getting off work, depending on his schedule at the security company."
"Actually, he works directly for the feed mill and not a company.
I did a bit of digging. Travis isn't an upstanding sort.
He's had trouble with the law before, mostly petty theft and an incident with vandalism and forgery.
I have a call into the owner of the feed mill to see if he can shed some light on what Travis' actual responsibilities are. "
Mitch nodded. "Okay. And she called Travis her assistant?"
“Yep. That's the title she used."
“And you spoke to Travis?"
Trey grinned. "Said he was visiting his brother in Summerville and didn’t see Delilah until later that afternoon.”
Mitch frowned. “So they weren’t together. And no one can verify where Delilah was. Travis is shady at best.”
Trey nodded. “It’s thin. But it raises eyebrows.”
"Did you contact Travis' brother?"
Trey shook his head, "We're trying to reach him. Haven't yet."
After Trey left, Mitch changed into clean jeans and a dark DeMario Security short-sleeved tee.
He'd already sweat through his morning clothes.
Pain clawed up his side as he holstered his Springfield and slid a notebook into his pocket.
He was past due for a real rest, but he needed to look Travis in the eye.
And he needed to make sure Izzy was safe.
He took a deep breath and seated himself in his truck. Maybe he'd take a short nap today to restore some of his energy. One thought kept running through his mind over and over: Izzy was staying with Sadie in the same house as Travis. If Travis meant her harm, she was directly in his space.
As he pulled into Sadie's driveway, Travis was unloading tools from the back of his truck. The man turned, squinting in the midday sun as Mitch approached him.
“You, Travis?” Mitch asked.
“Yeah. Who are you?”
Mitch pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it to Travis. "Mitch DeMario."
"Oh, you're the person who brought Izzy out here yesterday."
Mitch nodded. “Mind answering a few questions?”
Travis hesitated, then set the tools down. “I've told the police everything.”
"I'd like you to tell me too. I don't like hearsay."
Travis took a deep breath and put his hands on his hips. "Fine."
“You do any recent work for Delilah Parker?”
“A week or two ago,” Travis replied. “Reinforced her back door, fixed a busted lock, resealed a window.”
“So you’ve been behind her building recently.”
Travis crossed his arms. “That’s my job. Doesn’t mean I set any fires.”
“I didn’t say you did,” Mitch replied calmly. “You just happen to know both women involved, and you were gone when the fire broke out.”
“I was in Summerville. My brother and I made a delivery run. He’ll vouch.”
“Good. I’ll be talking to him.” Mitch paused. “Ever notice anyone hanging around behind Petal Pushers lately?”
Travis shifted. “There’s a guy, beat-up white Chevy, broken taillight, rust around the back wheel. Shows up early. Hoodie, always pulled up. Never delivers anything. Just sits there awhile, then drives off.”
“You get a plate?”
“No. Just figured he was waiting for someone.”
Mitch made a note. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
“Thanks,” Mitch said. “If you think of anything else, reach out.”
Travis nodded, then pulled more tools from the back of his truck.
Mitch watched from the vantage point of his pickup as he pretended to make notes in his notebook.
There was a large can in the back of the truck, obscured by tools.
He couldn't tell if it was a gas can, and he didn't have a warrant or the authority to force Travis to show him what it was.
But he'd let Trey know if Travis turned out to be a suspect.
On his way back to his condo, Mitch’s phone buzzed. Jayson's name showed on the readout.
He tapped the answer call icon, “Tell me you’ve got something.”
“Delilah’s got two small business loans, both delinquent,” Jayson said. “She’s on the zoning board’s waitlist to expand her shop, but she’s been denied three times. Petal Pushers is the reason. She can’t grow unless Izzy’s shop closes or sells. Or she moves, which she seems reluctant to do.”
Mitch rubbed his jaw. “She claims she’s not expanding.”
“On paper, she’s not,” Jayson said. “But there’s more, her mother tried to buy Petal Pushers years ago.
But when Old Man Grady had to get out of it, he sold it to Izzy’s dad thirty-five years ago.
Word is, Delilah’s still bitter about it.
Thinks her mom got cheated or some strange thing, even though there’s no record of any formal offer made and no record of anything other than Old Man Grady needing the money from the sale of the shop and Izzy’s dad buying it. ”
“So, she’s got financial pressure, motive, and a grudge.”
“Yep. But no real means. She’s broke and her credit’s shot. No way she’s pulling this off alone.”
Mitch’s pulse kicked up. “So who is?”
“That’s the question. She’s been paying someone in cash, a guy named Rayburn. No job on file. Sketchy background. B&E, arson, theft.”
Mitch straightened. “That could be our guy.”
“I’ll send everything I have.”
Mitch hung up and stared at the frozen image on his screen, the hooded figure again, slipping just beyond reach.
Delilah had a motive.
Rayburn had the skill.
And Izzy?
She had a target on her back.