Chapter Forty-Six #2
The arsonist disabled that door. Did they know there’d be two women inside? Or were June and Delia Castillo simply in the wrong place at the wrong time?
“Then talk to me about Rutherford Lane? Why didn’t you do a flow test on the sprinklers?” Nate writes something in his notebook, and I cast a quick gaze in his direction.
Arsonist disabled hardware. Kessler knew nothing.
“I…was told it’d already been done.”
“By whom?” I keep my voice gentle. He’s hanging on by a thread. The last thing I need to do is snap it.
Kessler gives the door another hard look. “I don’t have a name. I never have a name. It’s been half a dozen different guys over the years.”
“When did it start, then? And how?” I open my notebook. This is too important to leave to memory.
Charlie scrubs his hands over his face. “I need a drink. You mind?” He nods toward the bottle of tequila next to the couch.
“Go ahead.” Drunk Charlie might be a problem. But near as I can tell, he’s close to sober at the moment. One drink ain’t gonna derail our case.
He pours himself half a glass, and sinks back into the chair.
“I’ve worked for Apex for six years. Only a couple guys have worked there longer than me.
One day, Freddie—he’s been there from the beginning—asked me if I wanted to make some extra money.
My girlfriend had just broken up with me and kicked me out.
I was flat broke. Inspectin’ don’t pay near enough for first, last, and security deposit in this town. ”
Kessler pauses, tugs at the collar of his t-shirt, and stares into the glass.
“So you said…?” Nate sits back, bright purple pen poised over his notebook.
“I said I’d do anythin’.” Shame tinges Kessler’s cheeks. He takes a long pull on the tequila, then grimaces and sets the glass down.
“About a week later, Freddie tells me I need to grab a job that just landed in the queue. It was out by Lady Bird Lake. So I do it.
“When I got there, the building was a fuckin’ mess. Suppression system was shot, the fire extinguishers had expired sometime in the seventies, and the elevators weren’t on automatic shutdown. I documented everythin’. Every problem.”
He drains the rest of the tequila from his glass. “Then, before I left, this dude the size of a linebacker cornered me in one of the utility rooms. He handed me an envelope full of cash, said there’d be more where that came from, and told me to certify the building as safe.”
“So you did?”
Kessler gives me a pleading look. “I tried not to. Gave the money back and explained the problems. Dude told me if I didn’t do what he said, I’d never work as an inspector in Austin again.”
“This ‘dude’ have a name?” Nate asks.
Kessler shrugs. “Most folks do. But he never told me what his was.”
“Okay.” Nate inks another line in his notebook. “What does Mr. ‘Bribery Is My Middle Name’ look like?”
“It’s been six years, man. He was a white guy with a Texas accent. Lubbock, if I had to guess. I never saw him again.”
I set my notebook aside, leaning forward to hold Charlie’s gaze. “That wasn’t the only time. Was it?”
He shakes his head. “No. Five, six times a year. And I ain’t the only inspector they’re usin’. They got at least two others. Maybe more.”
Shit.
“Names?” I flip to a fresh page, but Charlie’s eyes find a spot on the floor and stay there.
“Don’t know ‘em. The only guy I ever knew for sure…he went missin’ a little over a year ago.”
A cold knot tightens in my stomach. “Roger Haight?”
Charlie finally lifts his gaze. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Haight was killed the day he signed the inspection on a building in Round Rock that burned down ten days ago.” I do my best to keep my voice even.
“That don’t surprise me.” Kessler drags a shaky hand through his hair, then scrubs at the back of his neck. “Someone came to see me after the Aldrich fire.”
“Someone?” Nate’s eyes narrow. “Who?”
Kessler lets out a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “You think these guys walk up and introduce themselves? Same guy who paid me after I signed off on the Aldrich building. I get home on Friday, and he’s in my fuckin’ living room. Sittin’ on the couch like he don’t have a care in the world.”
I sit up a little straighter. “What did he want?”
“Gave me the fattest envelope I’d ever seen. Ten grand.” His thumb rubs against the rim of his empty glass. “Told me there wouldn’t be any more for a while. Warned me not to talk to the police. Said if I did…I wouldn’t be talkin’ to anyone ever again. He left, I packed my shit, and came up here.”
“Charlie, we need to know who’s bankrolling this operation,” I say.
“Told you. No names. Ever.”
“A guess.” Nate rests his forearms on the table, hands steepled in front of him. “Six years in this operation, you’ve gotta have a guess.”
Charlie pushes to his feet, pacing the living room, one hand in his hair, the other tugging at his shirt, clenching and unclenching. “They know shit. Couple of years ago, I was datin’ this girl, Denise. Really liked her, too. The kinda’ girl you marry, y’know?”
I nod, though I have no idea what qualifies someone as marriage material. Men.
“I was inspectin’ this old folks’ home. Two of the fire exits were blocked off, the fire doors didn’t seal right, and some of the alarms weren’t wired up at all.
I wrote up everythin’, turned in my report, and another big, scary dude showed up and told me to mark all the problems resolved.
” He stops pacing, his hands clutching the back of the couch hard enough the frame protests.
“I said no. All I could think about was visitin’ my grandpappy in one of those places.
The guy told me if I didn’t sign off, he’d pay my girl a visit. ”
Charlie stills. After a long moment, he picks up the tequila bottle, turns it in his hands, reaches for the stopper, then sets it back down again.
“Denise’s friend was always tryin’ to hook up with me.” His voice drops to a whisper. “I slept with her so Denise would break up with me. Seemed like the best way to keep her safe.”
“But you certified the building anyway?” I ask, trying to reconcile the man pacing the room with the one who’d knowingly put senior citizens in danger.
Charlie doesn’t look up, his gaze fixed on the couch cushions. “Yeah.”
Nate looks up from his notebook, pen hovering over the page. “Where was this retirement home? We need to make sure nobody’s in danger today.”
“Mesa Drive and Steck Avenue.” Charlie rubs both palms against his jeans before peering out the window. “Listen, I gotta get gone. Don’t think they know about this cabin, but I ain’t taking any chances.”
“Come back to Austin with us.” I stay seated, hoping not to spook Charlie any more than he already is. “We can put you into protective custody. We’re gonna find these guys, Charlie. They can’t hide forever.”
He backs up a step, shoulders hunched up near his ears. “No. Ain’t no way you can keep me safe. I got enough cash to get me out to California. Or Canada. Somewhere no one can find me.” His words escape so quickly, they all jumble together.
“We’re gonna need your testimony to take these guys down.” I get to my feet, careful not to box him in. “We’ve got APD, the Ranger Division, and the State Fire Marshal’s Office workin’ this case. You will be safe with us.”
He searches my face, then Nate’s, before dropping his gaze to the duffel bag at his feet. “I dunno.”
“We’ll put you up in a safe house. Round-the-clock protection. Cameras. An alarm system. Food. Whatever you need.”
“You’re sure?” he asks.
“Yes.” I pull out my phone, prepared to call AJ, but there’s no service all the way out here. “You can ride with us. That much tequila probably put you over the legal limit. As soon as we get somewhere with a cell signal, we’ll call this in and get things movin’ for you.”
“Uh…” Charlie rubs the back of his neck again, then tugs on a few strands of his graying hair. “I can’t leave the cabin like this. And…there’s somethin’ I want to do first.”
“We can wait. Or help.” Leaving the man alone doesn’t sit well with me. From the look on Nate’s face, he agrees.
Charlie gives us a sharp shake of his head. “No. I gotta do this myself.”
Nate pulls a business card from his wallet, writes something on the back, and passes it to Charlie. “Both of our cell numbers are on there. We need you to give an official statement at the station ASAP. Give us a call when you’re on your way, and we’ll get the safe house set up for you.”
Charlie turns the card over once, stares at it, and tucks it into his back pocket. “Okay, man. Thanks.”
“You’ll come in?” I hold his gaze. “We need to know you’ll help us with this case.”
He lets out a sigh. “I’ll come in. Might be tomorrow, but I’ll be there.”
We say our goodbyes, get in the car, and pull back out onto the dirt road.
“Think he’ll show up?” Nate asks.
I check my phone. Still no signal. “He will. I don’t think he’s a bad guy. I think he spent six years making one bad decision after another, and he’s tired of carrying the weight.”
“I hope you’re right.” Nate sets his phone in the center console. “Soon as we get a bar or two, I’ll text Eliot about the retirement home. Gotta get that moved up the priority list.”
“That barbecue truck is only ten minutes away. We’ll text him when we get there.” I ease the car off the dirt road and back onto asphalt. “You’re buyin’.”
Nate clutches his heart. “Your lack of concern for your cholesterol is going to kill me.”
“I’ll get a whole mess of collard greens. Or slaw. Veggies galore.”
He rolls his eyes, then reaches for the “oh shit” handle as I take a curve two miles an hour over the speed limit. “I take it back. Your driving will do me in first. This is what I get for making one questionable life choice after another.”
“Oh, hush,” I say with a quick, fierce smile. “I’m doin’ just fine.”
Nate settles deeper into the passenger seat, letting go of the handle, but not truly relaxing. “Parker, our definitions of ‘fine’ are not the same.” After a moment, he adds, “That truck better have brisket.”