Chapter 26 #2
Well, I guess Fiona’s bombs worked. Perfect timing. Not that I’d expect anything less, I think with a smile, walking down the steps. It looks like I’ll reach Mal’s early enough to grab a seat.
“Richard White, come with me,” a deep voice booms, formally but not very politely. It’s the same deputy who escorted me last time. I follow him deeper into the sheriff’s department, leaving the waiting area behind.
I’m here alone this time.
Kevin and his partner, Deputy Wasserman, were parked outside Betty’s this afternoon.
As soon as I left the diner, they stopped me to let me know I was being summoned by the sheriff for more questions and pressured me to ride with them.
They weren’t arresting me, so I politely declined, but I didn’t press my luck by delaying like before.
I called Arthur Kostas on the drive over since he gave me his card for exactly this situation.
But just as Fiona predicted, he’s no longer any help.
He sounded very sympathetic when he informed me he wouldn’t be able to assist me in this matter as his firm is retained by White Construction Incorporated, and it would be a ‘significant conflict of interest’ to represent a client who is accused of destroying property of White Construction.
Disappointing, but not surprising. That just means I’ll be stuck listening to the sheriff all afternoon.
Deputy Voice leads me to the same conference room I was in previously. He waits at the door, and, not having any better ideas, I sit in the same seat again.
After a few boring minutes of the two of us looking everywhere but at each other, the sheriff and another deputy walk in. His eyes flick to the empty seat next to me, and he grins.
Next, Connor enters carrying a manila folder and a notepad. He joins the sheriff at the table as the new deputy sets up a video camera on a tripod.
“We’ll be recording this interview,” Sheriff Morris announces to the camera pointed down the length of the table.
He introduces himself, the two deputies in the room, and then me, using my full name—Richard Alan White the Third.
I manage not to roll my eyes. Connor introduces himself as Special Agent Connor Smith of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives.
“No counsel today, Mr. White?”
“No, just me.”
The sheriff’s eyes gleam in anticipation. “Mr. White, where were you last night, Wednesday, August twelfth?”
I cock my head to the side, astonished that this is how he’s choosing to start. “What is this regarding?” I ask, taking a page out of Mr. Kostas’s book since it worked so well.
“Don’t play games with me, White. You’re a suspect in two counts of arson. If you can’t provide a credible alibi, I may just arrest you here and now.”
I turn my head to stare straight into the camera, trying to highlight for the record the hostility and threat he’s applying.
Special Agent Smith’s eyes are on me as he taps the butt of his pen against the notepad.
Looking back at Morris, I answer, “‘Night’ is a long time, Sheriff. I was several places depending on the time. Care to be more specific?”
“No. In fact, you’d better just tell us where you were the entire day.” A scowl is firmly ensconced on his face now.
“Alright. I was working at Betty’s Diner from six a.m. until shortly before the town hall meeting—”
“You were there the whole time?”
“Yes. I own the place. Most days, I’m there open to close. Hundreds of people see me. Feel free to ask around town.”
“Go on,” he instructs tersely.
“I closed up and went to the town hall. That ended early, which you know because you left before the rest of us.” His scowl deepens.
“After that, I spent the remainder of the night at Malcolm’s bar until I went home.
Half of Kalomish was there. Then I got up this morning and was back at the diner at six. ”
“Was anyone with you? Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts overnight?” Morris asks.
“No. I live alone. No one was with me.”
The scowl eases as he leans forward slightly. “And the night before? You accounted for work at six. Where were you before that?”
Here we go, I think. Don’t screw this up. “Yes, before work yesterday I was also at home. Once again, I live alone. It’s not a crime to be single.” Nice, I didn’t even have to lie. I got home at least half an hour before work.
Morris, however, seems delighted. “So you have no alibi for Tuesday night.”
“Whoa, you asked me about Wednesday night, so I told you about Wednesday. Are we going to talk about where I spend every minute of every day? As Mr. Kostas told you before, if you’re only fishing for information, I’ll just leave.”
“We’ll talk about whatever I ask you about. If you don’t cooperate with this investigation—”
“What? You’ll think I’m a suspect? You already do. All I really do is work too much and live alone. Do you have any actual questions for me?”
“Yes. You still need to account for your whereabouts on Tuesday night.” His face radiates smugness.
“I already answered that question. And nobody can corroborate because I was alone at home. Like I said.”
Agent Smith clears his throat.
Morris glances sideways, then refocuses on me. “When was the last time you were at Highland Estates?”
“Highland Estates…? I visited my mom there maybe three weeks ago. I guess it was the weekend, so maybe three and a half. What does that matter?”
“I’ll decide what matters, Mr. White. You haven’t been there since?”
“Obviously not, or I would have mentioned that as the last time I was there.” The scowl is back in place.
“Why are you wasting time asking about what I did almost a month ago? Whatever you think I’m responsible for must have happened yesterday, since that’s what you were focused on.
You ran out of the town hall meeting last night, then the city council hid from everyone demanding accountability. Is that when this happened?”
“I’m asking the questions here. With your background in construction, how much training have you had in explosives?”
“Explosives? What do you think I am? I don’t have any training in explosives. I know about building things, not blowing them up. Wait, are you trying to pin the Hay Creek thing on me, too?”
Special Agent Smith flips open his manila folder and shifts his gaze to the papers inside.
“We’re conducting a thorough investigation, and we have to follow all leads. Don’t you want the terrorists destroying our town to be caught?”
“I definitely do, Sheriff. But they hold your leash, so you’ll never punish Henley and Montank for destroying our town,” I say heatedly, standing up.
“You just settle down, White,” Morris replies with that gleam in his eyes again.
“Mr. White, how much do you know about steel I-beams?” Agent Smith asks calmly, speaking up for the first time.
“What?”
“You’ve spoken of your knowledge of construction. Do you have experience working with steel beams?”
“Yes, of course. I’ve worked with and studied all kinds of equipment and structures.
You can’t possibly think that’s enough to blame me for Hay Creek.
I can name dozens of people who have experience working with I-beams, and they’re all currently in construction. I’ve been out of that field for years.”
“Can any of those people create and program a MOSFET-controlled switch?”
“I don’t know. I have no idea what the hell you just said.”
“Surely with your,” Smith pauses to look in the folder, “materials science degree you’re familiar with circuitry.”
“Surely with the research you’ve done on me, you’re aware that I never took a single circuitry class. I don’t know how to program anything. I run a diner, and before that I helped manage building sites. My spare time is spent outdoors. The most I use a computer for is to do my business accounting.”
Special Agent Smith pulls two photographs from his folder and places them in front of me. They’re black and white shots of the burnt-out houses at Highland Estates.
“Mr. White, someone in this community is destroying buildings, and they’re escalating. They’ve moved from isolated, empty sites to people’s homes. These two could have easily spread to the entire neighborhood or set the state forest on fire.”
I look up from the photos to meet his gaze. “Setting a fire doesn’t take a college degree. You were at the town hall last night. Almost everyone was there, and they were all angry and shouting. Are you going to arrest them all?”
I slide the pictures across the table.
“I came here in good faith. I love Kalomish and want to help, so I gave you my time after working all day, only none of you are doing anything in good faith. You want to pin every crime in town on me. Except you can’t, because I’m no terrorist. You just want me to say something that you can twist and use as an excuse to blame me for everything.
” I’m staring hard at the camera now. “I tried to be helpful. If you pull this again, I’ll sue you for harassment. ”
“There’s no need for hostility, Mr. White,” Special Agent Smith says.
The sheriff leans back in his chair as I stalk past him and out the door.