Tender Is The Night(47)

"I have nothing to say to you, and you need to back off, or I'm going to  go to the police and ask for a restraining order against you."

"Where was your husband last night, Mrs. Connors?"         

     



 

His abrupt question took her aback, and in that hesitation he knew that whatever was about to come out of her mouth was a lie.

"He was with me," she said.

The fearful light in her eyes and the pallor of her skin told a  different story. "Are you sure about that?" He let his question sink in,  then added, "I'm only the first person who is going to ask you that  question. The police will probably be next, then the arson investigation  unit, maybe some of your husband's former firefighting friends."

"What happened?" she asked tightly.

"Someone set fire to my apartment building. It was a warning, and the  only person I can think of who was angry enough to give me a warning is  your husband."

"I'm sure there are other people who don't like you," she returned.

"Where was he last night?"

"I told you he was with me. And I'll tell anyone else who asks."

"Why are you covering for him? You once got an order of protection against him."

"He was drinking then; he isn't now. He's better. And I want him to stay better."

"Lying for him isn't going to keep him sober or keep you safe. If he's  involved in these fires, you could be in danger. You really need to  think about who you're defending, what he's capable of doing."

She stared back at him, and all of the defiance suddenly seemed to go  out of her shoulders. "We had a fight yesterday. He left around six, and  I haven't seen him since."

He blew out a breath, relieved to have finally gotten past her defenses. "What was the fight about?"

"The fires. I asked him what he thought about there being two more  fires, and he asked me if I was accusing him. Things went from bad to  worse."

"You have doubts about him, too," he said, seeing the truth in her eyes.

"I don't want to believe that he's been burning down buildings I worked  on to punish me, but I can't deny that there's a pattern. I really  thought it was over until this past week when they started up again.  Now, I don't know what to think. Eileen is really worried, and I am,  too. I don't want it to be Brad. I really don't."

He could see the desperation in her eyes. "We need to find him. If he's  not responsible, then we can clear him and move on. But disappearing and  not being willing to talk will not help his cause."

"I've already called him a couple of times. And I called his sponsor, too. He hasn't heard from him."

Devin did not like the sound of that. "If you talk to him, you need to  find out where he is, and you need to call me immediately."

She slowly nodded. "All right. He's not a bad guy, you know. He just has  a temper, and he was upset that anyone could suspect him of arson. He  gave so much of his life to firefighting."

"If he's not guilty, he doesn't have to feel bad."

"It's easier to say that when you're not being accused of something."

"It's not easier; it's just the truth."

She gave him a long look. "I'll let you know if I find him."

As Gerilyn left the room, he moved back to Eileen's desk to grab his  phone. As he reached for it, his gaze caught on some family photographs  on Eileen's desk. The girl standing next to Eileen in one of the  pictures was very familiar.

He walked around the desk and picked it up to take a closer look.

He could hardly believe what he was seeing. The young woman with the  straight brown hair and brown eyes was the same girl he'd seen in the  St. Bernadette's yearbook. But that girl's last name had not been  Raffin.

With his pulse beating fast, he took the photo down the hall to Gerilyn's office. He walked in without knocking.

"Gerilyn?"

"What now?" she asked, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

"Who's this with Eileen?" He held up the picture for her to see.

"That's her daughter, Lindsay. Why?"

"Is she a stepdaughter? Why doesn't she have Eileen's last name?"

"She has her father's name-Blake. Eileen uses her maiden name."

His heart was beating so hard and so loud, he could hardly hear himself  think. He was standing on the precipice of something … " Did Lindsay go to  St. Bernadette's Catholic High School?"

"I think so. Why? What's wrong?"

"Where can I find her?"

"I'm not sure where she lives now-somewhere in the city. You can ask Eileen."

Eileen. They hadn't thought Eileen was the target but rather Gerilyn. Had they been wrong?

"What's Lindsay's relationship with her mother?" he asked.

"The usual mother-daughter drama. They've had their troubles over the  years. They haven't always been close. Eileen worked a lot when Lindsay  was small. Lindsay seemed to resent that." Gerilyn paused. "Why are we  talking about Lindsay?"         

     



 

"Because she went to school with Rick Baines at St. Bernadette's. Because a few days ago, there was a fire at that school."

"Now you think Lindsay had something to do with the fires?" Gerilyn asked in astonishment.

"Not something-everything. I think your husband just got off the hook, Gerilyn."

"Where are you going?" she asked as he jogged toward the door.

"To find Lindsay."

As he headed out of the building to the car, he remembered that Lindsay  had called her mom while she was in the office, and she'd been agitated  about something.

Maybe about the fire she'd set the night before?

Was it possible that it was Eileen's daughter who was out for revenge?  But why? Resentment for her mother working during her childhood? That  didn't seem like a strong enough reason.

When he got to the car, he texted Kate. Ask Eileen about her daughter.  Find out where Lindsay lives. Get me the address if you can but try not  to make her suspicious." He wasn't completely sure that if Lindsay was  involved, she was acting alone.

Perhaps Eileen was part of it, too. His gut tightened. Eileen had  offered to take Kate to one of the target properties. Wasn't it a huge  coincidence that one of the properties on the list he'd sent to Eileen  the night before now wanted a remodel?

Was Eileen just trying to get Kate into the house?

Had she done the same thing with Sam?

He felt sick at the thought.

He started the car and peeled off down the street. He knew where they  were going. He just had to get there before the unthinkable happened.





Twenty-One


"I'm so sorry," Eileen said, as she searched for a parking spot. "I  promise this will just take a few minutes. My daughter gets really upset  around the anniversary of her dad's death, which is this week. I just  want to make sure she's all right."

"Of course," Kate said. Eileen had gotten a call from her daughter again  when they'd gotten into the car. Even from a distance away, Kate could  hear how hysterical the girl was, so she'd agreed to stop for a minute  so Eileen could make sure her daughter was all right.

As they turned another corner, she frowned, realizing exactly where they were-only a few blocks from Ashbury Studios.

"This is where you live?" she asked.

"No, not anymore," Eileen replied. "It's where I used to live. After my  husband died, we moved to Nob Hill. I had this flat remodeled, and it's  been a rental for the past ten years. But a couple of weeks ago, my  long-term tenant moved out, and my daughter asked if she could move in. I  said yes, but now I think it was a bad idea. Even though the place has  been completely redone, there are memories there."

Eileen pulled in front of a two-story townhouse, partially blocking the  driveway, and turned off the car. "Do you want to come in or … "

"I'll come in," she said, her heart skipping a beat as she got out of  the car and looked across the street at the bookstore where a large  peace sign hung in the window.

What the hell? This couldn't be a coincidence, could it?

As they entered Eileen's building, she saw some texts from Devin, but she didn't have time to read them.

She texted him the address and a quick message: Eileen's daughter lives  here-across from the peace sign. Going to meet her now. Something weird  going on. Come if you can.

"There are two units," Eileen said, leading her up the stairs. "The  first floor is rented to a single man. He's out of town a lot."

When Eileen reached the door, Kate said, "Wait."

Eileen gave her a questioning look. "Why?"

"It smells like gas."

Eileen's eyebrow shot up. "It does smell like gasoline. Oh, God, I hope  someone hasn't gone after my daughter because they have a grudge against  me." Her hand trembled as she tried to insert the key into the lock.

"I don't think we should go in," Kate said, her gut telling her there was nothing good on the other side of the door.

"My daughter is in there. I'm going in."

Kate was torn, but as the door opened, she felt compelled to follow  Eileen inside. The smell of gas was stronger now. There were rags and  newspapers strewn around the floor, over the couch and along the far  wall. Fuel-ready to burn.