Chapter 10
Peter left to do what he could which was hire a private investigator. He’d used the man before. A.J. Watson was the best at what he did, which was to dig and find the answers Peter had needed.
This time, he needed to find out who torched the gallery and murdered that poor girl. Alexis would always blame herself if they could not find the answers to those questions, even though Beecher’s goons probably did the actual deed. She would blame herself for not being there instead of Heather.
He met Watson at a local bar, The Wapiti.
A.J. Watson was tall and well-built. He was muscular but lean, with the long muscles of a swimmer rather than those of a weightlifter.
His brown hair was a little long, reaching past his collar to his shoulders, but it was clean and combed away from his face.
His light blue eyes looked stark against his tan skin.
Peter sat next to him at the bar and ordered a bourbon and Seven-Up, when the bartender dropped by.
A.J. didn’t look up. “What do you have, Boss?”
Once he got his drink and knew they were unlikely to be interrupted, Peter answered. “A fire, and what I believe might be a murder.”
The man finally turned his gaze to Peter. “Murder. That’s a new one for you.”
“A friend of mine lost an employee and friend in the fire that destroyed her art gallery. I want to know who started the blaze and I want to know if the woman was dead before the fire.”
“What do you believe?”
“I believe she was. I think she was deliberately murdered to send a specific message to my friend.”
A.J. took a sip of his draft beer. “That’s a serious message. Were any of your paintings lost in the fire?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t matter. You know how I feel about my paintings of late.”
“I do. They are a way to make money, nothing more, because they cause you more grief than joy.” He stated as if by rote.
“That’s right.”
“So what can you tell me about the dead woman?”
Peter shrugged. “Not much. I didn’t know her.”
“I need to talk to your friend. I need more background on the dead girl.”
“Um, that might be difficult. She’s angry with me right now.”
A.J. cocked his head. “What did you do?”
Peter lifted his eyebrows. “What makes you think I did anything? Besides you’re supposed to be on my side.” He took a sip of his cocktail.
“That’s not how it works in this type of situation. I’m on the side of the dead woman.”
“Yes. Heather Brooks. Since I’ve told you everything I know, I’ll see if I can set up an interview with Alexis.”
“Alexis Armstrong, correct? It was her gallery that burned down, right?”
Peter nodded. “Find out who started that blaze, and we’ll have the person or persons responsible for Heather’s death and maybe murder.”
A.J. finished his beer. “Okay, I have enough to get started. Contact me as soon as you have the interview set up.”
“I will.”
The P.I. stood and left the bar.
Peter finished his cocktail and headed out to face Alexis.
Her car was still at her cabin.
He braced himself for her anger, walked to the door and knocked.
She pulled open the door and frowned. “I still don’t need a babysitter.”
Peter held up his hands. “I’m not here because of that. May I come in?”
“I suppose.” She stepped back so he could enter. “What do you want?”
He stepped inside as she shut the door behind him. “I want to know why you’re so angry. I didn’t do anything that I know of, so I’m at a loss here. I thought we were getting along well.”
Her shoulders sagged. “We were. I’m angry at the situation and took it out on you. I’m sorry. Would you like some tea?”
“Sure.” He was relieved and closed his eyes for a moment, then he took off his parka and hung it on a hook by the door. He sat at her small, square dining table.
Alexis prepared the tea and brought two steaming mugs to the table. She sat and then sighed as she sagged in the chair. “I don’t know what to do. I feel the need to avenge Heather, but I don’t know how without going to jail myself.”
Peter blew on his tea and then took a sip, tasting the black tea and orange peel of her special brew.
Finally he answered. “We need to make sure that the sheriff’s department can solve this.
They don’t have many murders here and I’m not sure they are up to it.
But, I don’t know the sheriff or what his background is.
To that end, I’ve brought in a private investigator.
I’ve used him before, and he’s capable of getting to the bottom of this.
He’ll find out exactly what happened to Heather and who was responsible.
You and I both have our suspicions, and they’re probably the same.
I believe Horace arranged for the fire. I think Heather was in the building and his men killed her before the fire started so she couldn’t identify them if she escaped. What are your thoughts?”
She took a deep breath and then released it through her mouth. “I agree with you on everything, but how do we prove that?”
“The first thing we need to find out is what the coroner finds. If he’s competent I believe he’ll find the fire didn’t kill her.
She won’t have any smoke in her lungs.” Peter cupped his mug with his hands reveling in the warmth.
“There is not much we can do until the coroner issues his report. My guess is gasoline was used as the accelerant because that would be the easiest to get ahold of.”
Alexis nodded. “My friend, Miranda, said they had already determined that it was gasoline and that the fire started in the office where Heather was found. They even postulated that she was the one who started the fire and then died because she couldn’t escape.”
“But she could have left if she wasn’t already dead.
From what we saw, most of the fire was in the front of the gallery.
Very little smoke was coming out the back.
” Peter stretched his legs and leaned back in the chair.
“I’m almost certain that it was Horace’s men and that Horace used me as an alibi because he knew what was happening. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“The deputies haven’t found Avery and Shaw yet.
At least they haven’t announced it that they’ve been detained for questioning.
Of course, they could think I did it for the insurance money.
As if that would cover everything that I lost. Heck, it won’t even cover the cost of your painting alone.
At least I still have my online business and I have some of the prints I sell in another, secure, location.
That will help, but it still won’t cover everything.
And that business will dry up without the gallery to display the originals. ”
“I’m not worried about my painting. That’s the least of our worries. I’m sure the other artists will feel the same way. Paintings can be replaced…as long as they aren’t done by the old masters. But you didn’t have any paintings like that here…at least, that I saw.”
She shook her head. “No, I didn’t. The art in my gallery was by local artists, almost exclusively. Yours was the only one that wasn’t done by an artist in this area.”
“Yes, and Horace wasn’t happy when he found out I was exhibiting a new painting in your gallery.
That might have been his breaking point and he decided to take out the competition…
you. I think you need to be very careful.
I don’t want anything to happen to you. And he’s gone this far, he might decide to take you out altogether. ”
Her eyebrows came together in the middle as she shook her head. “I can’t believe he would murder me. He just doesn’t have it in him.”
“Perhaps not himself, but we know he’s not above hiring whoever he needs to do his bidding.”
She moved to pick up her tea.
He noticed her hand was shaking and placed his hand over hers. He gazed at her, willed her to take the strength he offered.
They stayed like that, silent, for he didn’t know how long. She let him hold her hand and didn’t pull away.
Finally, Peter broke the silence. “You’re afraid. You know Horace is more than capable of hiring someone to kill you, don’t you?”
She nodded. I’m almost afraid to speak of it, that it would suddenly be even more real.
Peter, what am I going to do? Everyone will think I did it for the insurance money and that I killed Heather.
Neither of those things is true. I don’t know what to do.
” Alexis buried her face in her hands as tears threatened, not only for her future but for Heather, the loss of her best friend hurting most of all.
“I’ll tell you what you’ll do. You’re coming with me to Denver. We’re going to forget about Aspen and what’s happening here. My man will uncover the truth, of this I have no doubt. And you will let me take care of you.”
Alexis sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t know. What if the sheriff won’t let us go? And we said we’d stay.”
“That was before we thought Horace might come after you next. We’ll talk to him. We’re only a couple of hours away, including travel to the airport. He’ll let us go.”
They arrived at the sheriff’s office twenty minutes later. The man at the front desk wouldn’t let them in. “You’ll have to take a seat. The sheriff will see you shortly.”
Alexis nodded, turned, and walked over to the line of black plastic chairs against the back wall.
Peter joined her there to wait.
The lobby was a square room, painted white, with a window on one wall and a row of the black plastic chairs on the other two. The room wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t meant to be.
“Do you really think he’ll let us go?”
“I don’t know. I guess it will depend on whether he believes you are a suspect or not.”
“You’re up.” The deputy behind the desk called out. “The sheriff will see you now.”
They walked behind the deputy to the inner sanctum of the department.
The sheriff, a big man with a full beard that was well trimmed and matched his dark brown hair, stood as Alexis entered the room. “Alexis. I’m glad you stopped by. You saved me a trip to the cabin.”
“Hi Bob” She turned toward Peter. “This is Peter Kincaid.”
Bob extended his hand. “Mr. Kincaid. I admire your work. I have for several years now.”
Peter shook his hand. “You know my work? I’m surprised to say the least.”
The sheriff chuckled and pointed at the chairs in front of his desk. They were comfortable-looking leather chairs.
After letting Alexis sit first, Peter sat next to her and turned his gaze on Bob. “We’ve come to see if you’ve made any progress on the arson fire of Ms. Armstrong’s gallery.”
“The investigation is progressing nicely.” Bob leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do either of you have anything to add to your statements?”
“No.” Alexis sat forward and put her hands on the desk. “Bob, you know I had nothing to do with the fire or Heather’s death. And you know who did. Why don’t you arrest him?”
Bob sighed, sat forward and placed his forearms on the desk, before clasping his hands in front of him.. “We don’t have any evidence that Horace was involved in this. We do believe his associates know more than they have said.”
Alexis straightened in her chair. “You found them? I thought they left town.”
“We stopped them from leaving. Rather than driving, they had tickets for a flight and we caught them at the airport. They aren’t exactly rocket scientists, which is why I know they have more information to give.
I can hold them for seventy-two hours without charging them.
My deputies are scouring the scene and the neighborhood cameras to see if any of them caught anything.
I really don’t want to let them go, but I might have to. ”
Peter placed his arm around Alexis’s shoulders. “Speaking of flights out, we are headed to Denver, to my ranch. We wanted to let you know where you could reach us if you had any information to share.”
The sheriff sat straighter. “Thank you for telling me. I have no further information to share at this time.”
Peter stood. “Well, if that situation changes you have our numbers and know where we’ll be.”
Alexis got to her feet. “We’ll be back soon.” She looked up at Peter. “Won’t we?”
He nodded. “I expect us to be gone for a week to ten days. We’ll only be in Denver and can be back here within two hours, if you should need us. I’ll make sure my plane is kept ready to depart at any time.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you in about ten days.”
Peter escorted Alexis out of the sheriff’s office and then out of the building. As he was leaving, he noticed a deputy staring at them. He saw his name tag said McNubbin. He filed the information away for future consideration.
He stopped in front of Alexis’s cabin and killed the engine.
Then he exited the SUV and came around to her side and opened the door for her.
“I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes. I never really unpacked but I still have to put my painting supplies into the SUV and throw in my bag and then I’ll return for you. ”
She stood with her hands in her jeans pockets. “I’ll be ready. It’s not as if I have a lot of clothes to pack.”
“It’ll be fine. See you in a little bit.” Then he cupped the back of her head and brought her close, crashing his lips against hers in a deep kiss.
She seemed to be a little dazed.
He smiled and turned her toward the cabin. “Get packing.”
She headed toward the stairs.
Peter gave her a playful swat on her butt.
Alexis covered her behind with her hand but turned back to Peter and smiled. “I’ll be ready.”
He walked back to the SUV and took off to his cabin. On the way he called his pilot.
“Stan, make the plane ready. I want to leave as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir. She’s fueled and ready to fly whenever you arrive. Where are we going so I can file a flight plan?”
“Back to Denver.”
“Very good. I’ll see you shortly, sir.”
“It’s Peter. You don’t have to call me ‘sir’.”
“I know but it riles you up. I have to get my jollies somewhere.” His laughter carried through the phone.
“Asshat.” Peter ended the call and placed all of his supplies and clothes in the back of the SUV.
Then he slid into the front seat and started the engine.
He wondered if they would find enough evidence to charge Avery and Shaw or for that matter Horace.
Was there a way to prove he was behind the fire without Avery and Shaw’s testimony?