Tender Is The Night(46)

"I would like to see the house." Kate glanced at Devin. "You could wait  for Gerilyn, and I could take a look at the property. It might give me a  better idea of how vulnerable it is, and where we should put it on the  target list."

He hesitated, then nodded. "All right. We can meet up afterwards."

Eileen got to her feet as her cell phone rang. "Hello? I'm sorry. I  can't talk right now. I'm on my way out." She paused. "I'll have to call  you back, okay?" She ended the call and shook her head. "Children. No  matter how old they are, they can still be annoying. Do either of you  have kids?"

"No, we're both single," Kate said. "Someday. When I'm ready."

"I thought I was ready for motherhood, but it was much harder than I  ever expected it to be. I was thankful when my daughter hit eighteen. It  felt like a huge achievement. Little did I realize that eighteen was  not the end of her needs. Anyway, let me get my bag, and we'll go."

As Eileen moved around the desk to grab her purse, Kate looked at Devin. "Should we meet back here?"

"Why don't you text me when you've seen the house, and I'll let you know  if I've connected with Gerilyn yet? Then we'll figure out our next  move." He paused. "If you can get Eileen to tell you any more about  Gerilyn, that would be helpful."

"She seems pretty chatty; I'll see what I can do." She handed him the car keys.

"Make yourself at home, Mr. Scott," Eileen said, rejoining them. "And let the receptionist know if you need anything."

"I will. Thanks."

Kate followed Eileen out the door. "I really love your offices. It makes me want to redecorate my apartment."

"It's important to live in a place that makes you feel good," Eileen  said. "The right décor can change your entire mood every time you walk  through your door."

She wondered if that were true. She had a feeling that having a man at  home when she walked through the door might do the trick, too.

"Agent Callaway?"

"I'm sorry," she said, realizing Eileen had asked her a question. "What did you say?"

The older woman gave her a thoughtful look. "I asked you how long you'd been with the FBI?"

"Oh, a little over a year."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Not usually," she said, as they took the elevator downstairs and  entered the parking garage. "Most of the time it's a lot of talk. But  last night got exciting. Someone set fire to Devin's apartment building  while we were inside."

Eileen's lips parted in surprise. "Are you serious? Why? Who would do that?"

"It was a warning that we were getting too close."

Eileen stared back at her. "You think it was Brad. That's why you came to the office today."

"We'd like to know where he was last night."

"If he wasn't with Gerilyn, I don't think she'll tell you. She has become very protective of him since he got sober."

"Would she tell you?" Kate asked. "If we weren't around?"

"I don't know."

"Would you ask her?"

Eileen slowly nodded. "When we get back. But maybe she'll be forthcoming with Mr. Scott."

Kate hoped so, but somehow she didn't think it would be that easy.



* * *



Devin paced around Eileen's office, wondering if he'd made the right  decision to wait for Gerilyn Connors. He had wanted to check out all of  the target properties today, and there was a good chance that Gerilyn  was going to give him nothing but a runaround.

His phone rang, and he was startled to see a San Diego area code. "Hello?"

"This is Alan Jenkins," the man said.

"Mr. Jenkins. Thank you for calling me back." He was honestly surprised at the return call. He'd about given up on the guy.

"I was on vacation for a few days. Why are you blowing up my phone with messages and texts?"

"I need to talk to you about Rick Baines."

"Why? He's dead."

"It's about how he died."

"I thought he killed himself in a fire."

"You were friends with him at St. Bernadette's weren't you?"

"Yeah, we went to high school together. So what?"

There was an angry, antagonistic edge to Alan's voice that was either  defensive or offensive; Devin couldn't tell which. But he had a feeling  being direct was the only way to go with Alan. "There was a fire at St.  Bernadette's a few days ago."

"And … what does that have to do with me? I live in San Diego."         

     



 

"It's our belief that Rick Baines was not the person who set the fire  that killed him. We think it's possible he knew the arsonist. And since  that person recently hit St. Bernadette's, it seems likely that that  individual has a connection to Rick and the school."

"That's a wild theory," Jenkins said.

"So humor me. Tell me about your relationship with Rick."

"We weren't close friends, but we knew each other from high school, and I went to the gym where he worked."

"Did he talk about wanting to be a firefighter in recent years? Did he  refer to any of the suspicious fires happening in the city? Did he seem  to be paying attention to them?"

"He always talked about wanting to be a firefighter. I told him to stop  talking and get off his ass and try again. I knew he went after it  several years ago and couldn't get in, but it was still his dream, so I  encouraged him to fill out another application. He said he did, but the  next thing I knew he was dead-and in a fire-I couldn't believe it. I  wondered if the guy was living a secret life, because I had no idea he  could do something like that. I guess that's always what people say when  they're interviewed after someone seemingly normal does something  abnormal."

"Was it that out of the ordinary?" he challenged, remembering Kate's  conversation with Kristina the night before. "It's my understanding that  Rick might have set a small fire when you were at St. Bernadette's."

"Who told you that?"

"Kristina Strem."

"Kristina has a big imagination. There was a really small fire, and we  all wondered who did it, but Rick never said he did. It could have been  anyone."

"Kristina also told us you went by the scene where Rick died."

"You had a long conversation, didn't you? Yeah, I went by there. I had  to see it for myself. Like I said, I thought it was weird that he would  die in a fire when he had such a fascination with fire. I still think  it's strange. Is that a crime?"

"No. Did Rick keep in touch with anyone else from high school?"

"Probably. I know he saw Kristina a few times. Julie came into the gym  with her boyfriend once. Rick mentioned running into Lindsay one day.  Oh, and he said Michael Bennett had come back from New York and was  working for one of those ride-share companies. So, yeah, I guess he saw  people from high school. But none of those people would set fires. I  really don't know what to tell you."

Devin sighed. He was getting nowhere fast. "I appreciate you calling me back."

"No problem. I wish I knew something. Because if someone killed Rick,  that's disturbing. Especially if it was someone he knew-someone I might  still know."

Was Alan now genuinely concerned? His tone had certainly changed since  their call had first begun, but mostly when he realized he wasn't  actually being accused of anything. "If you hear anything from any of  your friends from St. Bernadette's regarding Rick or the fires, I would  love a call," he said.

"You got it. I'm sorry I took so long to get back to you."

"Where did you go on vacation?"

"Oh, um, I was in Hawaii."

"Which island?"

"Maui. Love Maui. Hate Oahu-too crowded."

"I agree," he said, thinking Jenkins was now being a little too smooth. "Maui has some great hotels. Where did you stay?"

Jenkins hesitated. "Sunset Villas. Do you want me to send you a receipt?" The antagonism was back in his voice.

"No, that's fine."

"You think I had something to do with these fires, don't you?" Jenkins  challenged. "You are wasting your time if you're going down that path."

"I'm just asking questions. That's all. Thanks again."

"Yeah. Whatever." Jenkins ended the call on that abrupt note.

As Devin set his phone down on Eileen's desk, he made a mental note to  check into the Sunset Villas, find out if he could trace Jenkins to  Maui, because his gut told him that Jenkins was lying about something.  His behavior had been inconsistent, too. He'd gone from angry to  helpful, to frightened, and then to anger again. Was he just being  defensive because he thought he was being accused of something he didn't  do, or because he was guilty?

"Mr. Scott. What are you doing here?" a female asked.

He turned around to see Gerilyn Connors enter Eileen's office. She  looked tired and worried. He wondered if that was solely due to his  presence or to her marital relationship.

"I came to see you," he said.