Chapter 10 Zane #2
Zane found himself watching her profile in the passenger seat. Even tense, even annoyed, she looked composed, her posture straight, her expression controlled. She had the kind of presence that didn’t need a uniform to feel commanding.
“I don’t know,” Willa replied honestly. “I know Lucy and my mother are very good friends. Other than that…” She shrugged. “I just don’t know.”
Carmen, who now seemed to have resigned herself to the fact that Willa had pulled him into the circle of trust, turned back toward him. Their eyes met, and Zane felt a quick, unwelcome jolt in his chest as her eyes no longer held the frost that seemed to be reserved for him.
It was not the time for that kind of reaction, and he pushed it aside.
“You’ve lived in Sandpiper Shores the longest.” Carmen’s eyes searched his. “Would you know anything? You used to be best friends with Holt when the two of you were at school and grew up with Lacey and Lucy.”
Zane’s brows furrowed as he tried to think. “When you and June came to Sandpiper Shores for summer vacations, the six of us hung out together. There was no fighting or animosity. As you know, Holt and June were dating. Tom and Lucy were dating, and I was dating Lacey.”
“You dated Lacey?” Both Carmen and Willa asked.
“I did,” Zane said with a smile. “All through high school.” He gave a soft snort. “We even went to Harvard Medical School together.”
“You went to medical school?” Carmen asked, surprised.
“I did,” Zane told her.
“Did you drop out to become a firefighter?” Willa asked. “I dropped out of Harvard Law School to become one.” She grinned.
“No,” Zane answered. “I actually became a doctor. Then there was a fire in a clinic I was working in. I helped firefighters get everyone out, and knew I was in the wrong profession.”
“You stopped being a doctor to become a firefighter?” Willa gaped at him in the mirror.
“I did,” Zane confirmed, glanced at the map in Carmen’s hand, and pointed to it. “I think June is headed toward Gainesville.”
Carmen’s head snapped down. “What?” she spluttered, then looked again, and her face tightened. “Oh, shoot. She is.” She glanced at her niece. “Take the next turn.”
Willa turned onto a road that headed directly toward Gainesville, and Zane felt his curiosity sharpen. Why are you going there? Does it have something to do with the fires or the cases you and Holt are working on?
“What business does June have in Gainesville?” Zane thought out loud this time.
Zane looked at Carmen. Carmen looked at Zane.
Something electric flickered in that shared moment, like they’d both touched the same live wire.
Willa, oblivious to the undercurrent, broke it by speaking again.
“This is really odd, especially as my mother is so nervous about driving since the accident,” Willa said, her eyes fixed on the road. “I didn’t think she’d have enough confidence to do this trip on her own.”
Zane forced his gaze away from Carmen’s and back to the passing countryside. About ten minutes later, Willa slowed as June’s car ahead took a right turn onto a small country road.
“What on earth?” Carmen hissed. “Now my sister’s turning onto tiny back roads.”
Zane leaned forward slightly, peering through the windshield.
“Can I see that?” he asked, pointing at the phone in Carmen’s hand.
Carmen handed him the phone, and their fingers brushed.
Heat shot up Zane’s arm with absurd intensity, as if someone had struck a match against his skin. He ignored it and forced himself to concentrate on the map, then on the signposts, and recognition settled.
“I know this place,” Zane told them, handing the phone back carefully, making sure not to touch her again. “It’s a junkyard.”
Willa’s expression turned baffled.
“Why on earth would my mother be at a junkyard at this time of night?” Willa’s brows knitted tightly together in confusion.
Zane watched June’s car continue along the side road.
“If we’re going to find out,” Zane advised, “we should pull into one of the side farm roads and wait. Let June get to the destination and wait it out until she leaves. We are in a fire captain’s car, and it stands out like a sore thumb.
” He glanced around. “If we’re going to find out what’s going on or why she’s here, we need to wait for her to leave.
” He glanced from one woman to the other.
“And I’m sure you don’t want June to know you’re following her. ”
Carmen glanced at him, then nodded. “Good idea.”
Zane didn’t know why that simple acknowledgement pleased him as much as it did. It was ridiculous. He was in his sixties, not sixteen. Zane gave himself a mental shake and concentrated on what they were up to. Or what he’d allowed himself to be dragged into.
Willa turned onto a small side road that branched off the main one and pulled in far enough to be hidden behind trees and a sloping fence line. The car idled quietly, the air thick with tension.
“They also have gas here at the junkyard,” Zane told them.
“That’s good,” Willa replied. “Then we can stop at your car on the way back.” Willa glanced at him in the mirror, brows drawn. “What were you doing way out there?”
“I went to check the fire burns at the Hendersons’ farm.” Zane leaned back. “I wanted to get a feel for what happened,” he admitted. “To see if it gives me any sense of déjà vu from ten years ago.”
“And?” Willa and Carmen asked in unison.
Zane exhaled slowly.
“It feels familiar but at the same time quite a bit different,” he said. “Ten years ago, it was like someone was chasing something. Like they were trying to force a situation. This time it’s like…”
“They’re trying to bury something,” Carmen finished for him.
Zane stared at her, surprised, because it was exactly what he’d been circling in his own head.
Carmen kept going, her eyes narrowed, and her voice low.
“I keep getting that same feeling,” she said.
“I wasn’t here from the beginning ten years ago, but I came after…
” She trailed off, then glanced at Willa, as if reminding herself not to speak too bluntly about what the memorial represented.
“I visited the scenes,” she continued. “My mother was a firefighter. She taught June and me a lot about fire. So I walked some of the sites back then, and I got the sense someone was trying to cover something up.”
Zane nodded slowly. He liked that Carmen’s instincts ran parallel to his. He didn’t like what it implied.
“So none of you believe Gilbert Fry was the arsonist ten years ago,” Willa commented, her eyes moving between them.
“No,” Zane and Carmen answered together again.
Willa let out a breath and shook her head.
“Neither do Margo or I,” Willa admitted.
“We’ve been looking into it again. After Nigel left and Rad took over as detective, he walked in on us at Teacups one afternoon.
We were discussing it, and he listened to what we had to say.
The next thing we knew, Rad was helping us, and he agreed that something about the case seemed off. ”
Zane went still as a nagging feeling crept up his spine.
“When did you start reinvestigating that case?” Zane asked carefully.
Willa thought about her answer.
“A few days before Rad moved to Sandpiper Shores. Actually, I’d say about a week before he moved there,” Willa commented, and her eyes darkened with suspicion.
“Come to think of it, the incidents started happening once he became involved in helping us investigate.” She chewed her lip thoughtfully.
“Margo and I got warning notes. I got my tires slashed. She got the window at her cottage broken. Then weird things started happening to Rad.”
Zane’s jaw tightened.
“So there were more warnings than incidents,” Zane noted.
Willa’s brows shot up, and she nodded. “Exactly what we suspected. Like whoever is doing it doesn’t want that case being opened again.”
Zane turned that over in his mind, and the conclusion came quickly.
“When did the bigger fires start, like at the campgrounds?” His eyes narrowed. “That was the first big fire, right?”
“Yes,” Carmen answered before Willa could. “That was a few days after June, and I arrived at Sandpiper Shores.”
“Yes, just after Director Dillinger arrived in Sandpiper Shores,” Willa added.
“I remember that because I was so glad that Ace, who fetched him in his plane, was back in town to help.” She drew in a breath.
“He is a blessing in disguise with us being so short-handed at the moment and during peak fire season.”
“Maybe that’s the link,” Zane suggested. “What had you and Margo done in regard to reopening the case before Rad arrived?”
“Not much,” Willa told him. “We’d actually just decided to get together and speak to Chief Morrison about maybe taking another look at the case. I had drawn out the old fire records from ten years ago, but we hadn’t yet gotten the police records or spoken to Chief Morrison.”
“You’re right,” Carmen said, her eyes wide as she turned to Zane. “It could just be a coincidence, but what if the perpetrator is worried now that not only a detective like Rad is in town, but someone like Holt as well?”
“And to top it off,” Willa added, “Holt and my mother are now looking into the case.”
“There are still too many threads that are not coming together,” Carmen said. “But it’s something worth looking into.”
“I think we need a meeting,” Zane said. “Call everyone involved and that we can trust into it. Like you, Willa, and you, Captain Grant, as well as Holt, June, Rad, Margo, and me.”
Willa glanced at him, then nodded slowly.
“What about Lucy, Lacey, and Ace?” she asked. “They’re involved too.”
Zane considered that.
“Maybe Ace, but we need to keep the circle as tight as we can for now,” Zane warned. “Not because they don’t matter, but because the more people who know details, the more ways information leaks. If someone is watching, we have to assume they’re listening for patterns.”
Willa didn’t look satisfied, but she didn’t argue.
“Mom suggested that Lucy and Lacey go stay at her house in Miami until this is solved,” Willa said, tone heavy. “Dean thinks it’s a great idea, and he thinks that Chief Morrison could use a break as well.”
“I think as soon as Lacey is well enough,” Zane agreed. “That’s the safest option.”
Carmen’s eyes flicked to the phone. “June’s moving,” she said.
Zane leaned forward, watching as June’s car rolled back along the main road and then swept past their hiding spot.
They waited a few minutes, making sure there was enough distance.
“I didn’t know June drove so slowly,” Zane remarked quietly, because he needed something ordinary to say.
“Oh, she’s sped up a lot,” Carmen replied, and there was a softer edge to her voice now. “Ever since the accident, she’s only recently started driving again.”
Willa started the car and pulled back onto the road.
“Let’s go,” she said.
They headed toward the junkyard, and Zane watched the landscape change as they approached. The road narrowed, and in the distance, he could see fencing and the suggestion of stacked shapes.
A sign at the entrance announced that the business was open until ten.
Willa drove through the gate and pulled into a parking space near the front, and a man stepped out from a small office building, wiping his hands on his jeans as he approached.
“Hi,” the man said, friendly but cautious. “I’m Dan. How can I help you?”
Zane climbed out, walked around to the trunk, and opened it. A red gas can sat there, and he pulled it out with a small sense of relief.
“First,” Zane said, holding it up, “I need some gas.”
Dan nodded immediately.
“Sure,” Dan said. “I’ll get one of my guys to fill that up for you.”
“Also, a woman just left here. Can you tell me why she was here?”
Dan’s gaze flicked to Willa’s vehicle, then back to Zane, his eyes becoming wary.
“Why do you want to know?” Dan enquired.
Willa’s voice stayed calm, but Zane heard the edge beneath it. “Because she’s my mother,” Willa said. “And I’d like to know why she’d come to a junkyard at this time of the day.”
Something shifted in Dan’s expression, and his shoulders loosened slightly. “Oh,” he said. “She came to fetch Harvey.”
Carmen’s brows rose. “Harvey?” she repeated. “As in Harvey, who owns the auto repair shop in Sandpiper Shores?”
Dan nodded. “His car broke down as he arrived here. It overheated. Your mother picked him up.”
Zane’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Why did Harvey come here?” Zane asked.
Dan gestured toward the yard.
“To look at a vehicle we got in late this afternoon,” Dan replied.
“What vehicle?” Zane eyed Dan curiously.
Dan motioned for them to follow.
“Come,” Dan gestured with his hand. “Follow me, and I’ll show you.”
They walked through rows of cars, the air thick with the scent of old oil and sun-warmed metal.
The junkyard was organized in sections, not chaotic, and Zane’s eyes tracked automatically, taking in exits, blind spots, and the way the fencing sat.
He’d seen enough places like this to know how easily someone could disappear among stacked wrecks.
Dan led them to a section marked for recent arrivals.
“These are the latest ones brought in today,” Dan explained. “The one Harvey came to see was found left at the side of the road just outside Gainesville, so it was brought in here.” He stopped and pointed. “That’s the car.”
Zane’s gaze landed on it, and his brows shot up.
The vehicle was stripped and battered. The windshield was busted.
The doors looked as if someone had taken a crowbar to them.
There were no wheels, no bumpers, and the frame sat at an angle that made it look like it was still trying to escape whatever had happened to it.
“It looks familiar,” Zane said slowly.
Willa stepped closer, and Zane watched the color drain from her face.
“Yes,” Willa said, voice tight. “That's because it’s the truck Lacey was driving when she was pushed off the road.”
Carmen went very still beside him, and Zane felt the air shift again, the way it did when a situation changed from worrying to dangerous.
Because this felt like another warning.