Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
It was nearly midnight.
Michelle’s hands became suddenly cold as the sound of the doorbell reverberated through her house. She looked around her office in search of something to take with her to the door. Using a weapon had never been her go-to, but the last twenty-four hours had changed everything.
The reason that handgun was in a gun safe at the top of her closet was because while she could hit a flying piece of clay and any target at twenty-five yards, the idea of killing was inconceivable to her.
Killing.
Her father.
Someone had done that.
Taking a breath, Michelle reached for her phone.
It wasn’t there. It was a melted glob of goo back in Iron Falls.
Quickly, she activated her doorbell app on her desktop.
Two uniformed police officers were on her porch.
She studied their attire and body types, determining that they weren’t from Iron Falls.
The attire looked correct for the local police department.
“Hello,” she said through the doorbell.
The female officer spoke into the camera. “Ms. Holdcraft, we need to speak to you.”
“It’s late.”
“We won’t take too much of your time.”
“Do you have a warrant?” Michelle asked.
The female officer responded, “Please, ma’am, this is important.”
Michelle hurried to her bedroom and pulled a hoodie over her shirt. All the time she mentally repeated the alibi Fletch had provided to her.
Unlocking the door while keeping the chain latched, she peeked through the opening. “May I see your badges?”
Both officers produced their badges.
Officer Darla McCoy and Officer Jamison Andrews.
Michelle closed the door and released the chain lock. Opening the door, she stood in the doorway and looked up and down her street. “Is there a problem? Someone in the neighborhood?”
“Ma’am, we’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday.”
She feigned a smile. “I was working. I turn off all my notifications when I’m working so as not to be disturbed.”
“The doorbell?” Officer McCoy asked.
“Earphones.” She crossed her arms over her chest with a shiver. Civility was hard to restrain. She motioned into the living room. “Would you like to come in? It’s cold out here.”
“Thank you,” the officers said in unison.
After closing the front door, Michelle turned to face her visitors. “Why have you been trying to reach me?”
Officer Andrews removed his hat. “Ms. Holdcraft, we’re sorry to inform you that there has been an accident at your father’s home in Iron Falls, Massachusetts.”
Michelle knitted her eyebrows together. “An accident? What kind of accident? Is my father okay?” She took a step back. “I need to get to him.”
“We’re sorry to inform you that your father perished in a fire. Sheriff Ralph Perkins from the Iron Falls Police Department called our department late yesterday. That’s why we’ve been trying to reach you.”
“By phone and in person,” Officer McCoy added.
The sound of Sheriff Perkins’s name sent a shiver scattering over Michelle’s skin. Tears teetered on her eyelids. “I just saw him a few days ago.” She shook her head. “There’s some kind of mistake.”
Officer McCoy handed Michelle a business card. “Here’s my card. On the back, I’ve written the contact information for Sheriff Perkins. He’d like you to contact him as soon as possible. He has some questions.”
Michelle stared down at the card in her grasp, reading the information. “It’s late.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. He seemed very anxious to speak with you.” Officer Andrews’s brow furrowed. “When was the last time you saw your father?”
“It was a few days ago—Thursday. I drove out to Boston for an event. I stopped at Dad’s and left my car with him.”
“You didn’t stop to get your car on the way home?” Officer McCoy asked.
Michelle allowed the tears to cascade down her cheeks. “No.” She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I thought there would be time. The forecast was bad out there, so I decided to fly home instead of drive.”
“Please contact Sheriff Perkins. He has questions.”
Michelle nodded, knowing good and well she had no intention of speaking to the sheriff.
“Your father,” Officer Andrews said, “was an esteemed member of IMPD. We’ve also contacted Chief Bradley. He offered his condolences and said that IMPD would be honored to take part in your father’s celebration of life.” He handed Michelle another card. “Here’s the chief’s contact information.”
Michelle shook her head. “This is too much.”
“If you need anything,” Officer McCoy said, “you have my number. Call anytime.” She took a step back. “We’re sorry.”
Michelle looked up, her eyes glassy with tears. “Do you have any information on the fire? How did it start? Was he trapped?”
Officer McCoy pressed her lips together. “I think you should hear the details from the sheriff. We were told the Iron Falls fire investigators have contacted ATF.”
Michelle wrinkled her forehead. “They don’t suspect arson, do they?”
“Ma’am,” Officer Andrews asked, “how was your father when you saw him?” When Michelle didn’t respond, he added, “Did he seem depressed or upset?”
Michelle shook her head. “I don’t understand.” Her eyes opened in alarm. “The sheriff doesn’t suspect Dad would set his own home on fire, does he?”
“Right now, everything is under investigation,” Officer McCoy said. “I believe the sheriff simply wants to ask you a few questions.”
“I can’t.” She shook her head. “My dad…”
Officer McCoy did a good job of appearing sympathetic. Michelle wasn’t sure if she truly was or if it was the role the officer was playing.
“Ms. Holdcraft, you have our sincere condolences. I’ll contact the sheriff and let him know we’ve spoken to you. Understandably, you’re not ready to speak to him until tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Michelle managed as she walked the two officers to the door, opened it, and stood motionless as they walked back into the cold night. Once they were back to their cruiser, she closed the front door and engaged the locks.
Before she could turn, she heard the vibration of the burner phone coming from the kitchen. It was the one Fletch gave her. It vibrated again by the time she reached it. Opening the flip phone, she saw the numeral one. “Hello.”
“You did good. I knew you would.”
Michelle turned completely around, wondering how Fletch was up to the second on her visitors. “Are you watching me?”
“Doing my assignment.”
“Unofficial assignment.”
He went on. “Have you ordered a new phone?”
Her mind was still concentrating on the fact that she was being watched.
“Shelly?”
She inhaled at his use of her dad’s nickname for her. “Um” —phone, he’d asked about a new phone— “I just finished the online order before the police arrived. I paid extra to have shipping expedited. It’s supposed to arrive tomorrow.”
“Good. It will have the same number as your old one. You can call Perkins after you get it activated.”
Holding tightly to the phone, Michelle slid down the wall to the tile floor, pulling her knees beneath the oversized hoodie. “I’m afraid to talk to him.”
“His only proof that you could have been there was your car. Stick to your story. You’ll be safe.”
“He’s going to lie to me, tell me that Dad perished in the fire. I know what I saw. I know he was shot.” Her words were coming faster. “The fire was the cover-up. The one officer suggested that Perkins is investigating arson as if Dad set the fire himself.” Her voice cracked. “He didn’t.”
“You don’t know that, Shelly.”
“Does this phone work both ways? Can I call you?”
“I don’t exist, remember.”
She nodded. “I felt your heartbeat and your warm skin. You can’t tell me that you don’t exist.”
“You can call me. If I don’t answer, don’t keep calling. I’ll call you back as soon as possible.”
Michelle swallowed and looked up to where the ceiling and walls met. As she scanned, she noticed small irregularities that she hadn’t paid attention to in the past. “Are you watching me now?”
“It’s all part of my assignment.”
Inhaling, Michelle stood, feigning strength she knew she didn’t possess. “I should sleep.”
His baritone timbre reverberated through her body. “We didn’t get a lot of that last night.”
She nibbled on her lip, synapses sparking to life in her nervous system at the memories his comment brought to mind. Their one night was the eye of the hurricane. She needed to prepare for the rest of the storm. “Goodnight, Fletch.” Before he could reply, she hit the red button.
Once this was done, once her father was laid to rest, she would do a thorough scan of her entire home.
Michelle knew a little about surveillance from research she’d done for her books.
The bulky nanny cams of yesteryear were replaced by slim and stealthy options, ones difficult to detect with the naked eye.
If Fletch was going to disappear into the unknown, she knew better than to try to hold on. They had one night filled with fear, flames, and desire. Michelle would call it research and recall the details when they would fit into a story.