On Fire(55)

"I have a key."

"Good. Let's let ourselves in and hope we're just catching her in the tub."

"Do you suspect Abigail?" Sig asked bluntly.

Her sister seemed surprised.

"No, of course not. She wouldn't know how to sabotage a ship engine or  dip a rag in linseed oil and set Emile's cottage on fire, never mind  want to do something like that."

"Then why are you here?"

"Emile." Riley marched up to Abigail's front door.

"Matt followed him here, says Emile pushed him down the stairs and beat  him up. So what was Emile doing here? What did he see that he didn't  mention to us?

And if he didn't attack Matt--which he didn't--then who did? "

"Abigail?"

Riley groaned in exasperation.

"Sig. I just said she's not on my list any more than Emile is. If you  apply the process of elimination and a little common sense, you come up  with" -- A stab of pain nearly brought Sig to her knees. She almost  couldn't speak. Her head pounded.

"Henry. He was here yesterday. He and Abigail are having an affair... damn."

"The only problem is he doesn't strike me as someone who'd know how to  commit arson and blow up ships, either. He's an administrator. He  studied oceanography, but he hasn't really been in the field in years  and" -She stopped, stared at her sister.

"What is it?"

"But he would. Riley, remember?" They stopped at Abigail's brass-trimmed  front door, and Sig swallowed, her throat tight and dry.

"Henry was one of those volunteer wildfire fighters out west. That's how he and Bennett met."

"No, I didn't know. I didn't pay much attention when he was hired. We were revamping the recovery and rehab program."

Sig smiled feebly.

"You and your one-track mind."                       
       
           



       

"But fighting wildfires isn't the same as committing arson." "Who knows  what all those firefighters sat around talking about during breaks? The  fires at Sam's house and Emile's cottage were both caused by crude time-  delayed devices. Henry could have chosen his timing."

"And he was desperate," Riley said.

"Yes. If he sabotaged the Encounter, he's responsible for the deaths of five people. He'd lose everything, including Abigail."

"I hate this. Explosions, fires, assaults and murder--they aren't exactly my area of expertise."

"Maybe we should find Straker," Sig said.

"I don't see Henry's car. He's probably still at the center. Maybe he  and Abigail rode together and no one's here." She gave Sig an  encouraging smile.

"This could be our best chance to look around her house and settle our minds. Maybe we're way off the deep end here."

"Do you think so?"

Riley shook her head.

"No."

Sig wasn't sure. All the threads and pieces seemed to float past her,  and she couldn't put anything together. She fumbled with her keys, too  nervous to single out her copy of the key to the Granger house.

Riley, ever impatient, grabbed them from her.

"Which one?"

Sig pointed, her hand shaking.

"That one."

Riley grasped the key, stuck it in the door, pushed it open.

"It's not really breaking and entering," she whispered as they slipped into the cool, elegant home.

"We're just taking a look around."

Sig called out, "Abigail? You home? It's me, Sig."

Total silence. Given her mood, it seemed eerie. On another day, it would  be refreshing, soothing to encounter such a place of peace and elegance  in the heart of the city.

"I'll check the kitchen," Sig said.

"You look around here and upstairs."

Riley nodded.

Sig stifled a surge of guilt. Her sister-in-law had never faltered in  the past year. She'd been strong, capable, determined. Without her  energy and focus, the center might never have survived Emile's downfall  and Bennett's death.

Thinking of her husband's battered body, Sig started down the kitchen  stairs. She looked behind her after every step, not wanting someone to  shove her from behind, then give her a few kicks while she was down.

She shuddered, pushed the images out of her mind. Matt was in good hands now. He'd be okay.

She peered down the stairs, balanced herself with one hand on the wall.

She could see something at the foot of the stairs. She leaned forward to get a better look.

Abigail.

She was sprawled on the floor at the foot of the stairs. Sig jumped  back, shrieked. Her breath went out of her. She lost her footing and  grabbed the railing, caught herself before she could tumble down the  stairs.

"Sig!" It was Emile, down in the kitchen.

"Run! Get out!"

She turned, tripping on her long skirt, and, almost on her knees, scrambled up several steps.

Something tugged at the hem of her skirt. She kicked backward, and a  hand grasped her lower leg, twisting. If she didn't go with it, she'd  break her leg. She turned over, sat on the step.

Henry snatched her hand and jerked her to her feet.

"Abigail's alive."

Sig gasped for air.

"What the hell's going on here? Henry, for God's sake" -- "Shh, shh."

He put a finger to his lips. He was dressed casually in a cotton sweater and trousers, handsome, totally calm.

"It's okay. Shh.

I don't want to hurt you. "

Riley. Her sister must have heard the commotion in the kitchen. She  would call the police. She would get Straker. She would run out into the  street and get someone in here. Sig couldn't give her away. She had to  be brave. She kept her eyes pinned on Henry, refusing to glance back up  the stairs and alert him that Riley had come in with her.

"What did you do to Abigail?" Her voice was hoarse, breathless.

"Did you push her down the stairs and beat her up the way you did my husband?"

"I could have killed your husband. I didn't. Be grateful."

"You monster."

"If your husband had minded his own god damned business, we wouldn't be here right now."

"His father's death is his business."

Henry's eyes darkened, and he jerked her down the stairs, not caring if  she stumbled, if he had to drag her. She managed to stay on her feet.                       
       
           



       

Adrenaline shot painfully through her. Her knees weakened. She should have found a gun, grabbed a poker from the fireplace.

He tightened his grip on her arm and elbowed her in the chest to break  her momentum and keep her from toppling into him. She tried to pull  herself free.

"Ouch Henry, you're hurting me!"

"Armistead," Emile yelled from deeper in the kitchen. She'd never heard him sound so certain, so furious.

"If you hurt her, I'll kill you myself."

Henry smirked, cocky, nasty. He didn't even look in Emile's direction.

"Your grandfather doesn't seem to understand he's tied up and can't do  anything. It's his life that hangs in the balance. Not mine."

"I'll haunt you from the grave," Emile said.

"You won't have a second's peace."

"Henry," Sig croaked, gasping for air, "for God's sake, you can't  believe this is going to work." "The police already suspect Emile. I  just need to help them reach the correct and logical conclusion, provide  proof that what they believe he's done, he did, in fact, do."

"What about Abigail?"

He ignored her and pulled Sig over Abigail's prone body. Sig was  sickened, terrified for herself, for her sister-in-law, for Emile.

Henry touched her hair.

"Sig, you of all people should understand."

"What? I don't understand any of this."

"Loving a Granger. Wanting to be one of them. You don't understand?"

Bravado, anger, kept her on her feet.

"You don't love Abigail. You don't know what love is. And I never cared about being a Granger. I cared about my husband."

"I never meant..." He broke off, his eyes misting, not with regret, Sig thought, but self-pity.

"No one was supposed to die."

"Five people did die. And now with Sam's death, six."

Henry's gaze hardened, his grip on her tightening painfully, to the point she thought her arm would break.

"Trust me, no one misses our good Captain Cassain."

He shoved her backward, sent her sprawling against the table. She  stumbled, held on to the back of a chair. A knife. Where did Abigail  keep the knives?

She saw her grandfather in the corner by the stove, his hands and feet  tied to a chair. He was white-faced, old, trembling not with fear or  pain, she thought, but unbridled anger.

"Emile," she breathed.

"Oh my God."

His dark eyes leveled on Henry.

"Kill me. Leave Sig."

"That won't work, Emile. I'm not stupid. I've examined every option.

You're the one who backed me into a corner. If you'd just left me  alone"-- " You sabotaged my ship. You killed members of my crew. You  murdered my captain. "