Deputy Defender

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Chapter Five (#ubcc0dd40-8b26-5323-8cf0-fdbaeabcaf0b)

The smell of wet ashes stuck in the back of Dwight’s throat, thick and acrid, as he stood with Travis and Assistant Fire Chief Tom Reynolds in front of what was left of Brenda Stenson’s house the morning after the fire. The garage and apartment where Lacy lived were unscathed, but the main house only had two walls left upright, the siding streaked with black and the interior collapsed into a pile of blackened rubble. If Dwight let himself think about what might have happened if Brenda had been inside when the fire was lit, he broke out in a cold sweat.

So he pushed the thoughts away and focused on the job. “We found evidence of an accelerant—gasoline—at the back corner of the house,” Tom said. “Probably splashed it all over the siding, maybe piled some papers or dry leaves around it and added a match—boom—these old houses tend to catch quickly.”

“Do you think the arsonist chose that corner because it was out of view of the street and neighboring houses, or because he wanted to make sure the rooms in that part of the house were destroyed?” Dwight asked.

Tom shrugged. “Maybe both. The location was definitely out of view—someone in the garage apartment might have seen it, but he might have known Lacy wasn’t in last night.”

“Maybe they knew Brenda wasn’t here last night, either,” Travis said. He scanned the street in front of the house. “If they were watching the place.”

“We’ll canvass the neighbors,” Dwight said. “See if they have any friends or relatives who have recently moved in, or if they’ve noticed anyone hanging around or anything unusual.”

“What’s located in this corner of the house?” Travis asked.

“I think it’s where Andy’s home office used to be,” Dwight said. “I remember picking up some paperwork from him not too long after I started with the department.” Brenda hadn’t been home, which had disappointed Dwight at the time, though he had told himself it was just as well.

“That’s probably where the safe was where Brenda wanted to stash that book,” Travis said.

“Probably,” Dwight said. “But safes are usually fireproof.”

“Maybe whoever did this didn’t know about the safe,” Travis said.

“Or destroying the book wasn’t even the point,” Dwight said. “Frightening Brenda into getting rid of the book on her own would be enough for him.”

“I guess I’d be frightened right now if I were her,” Tom said.

“Brenda’s not like that,” Dwight said. “I’m not saying she’s not afraid—but she’s not going to destroy the book, either. This guy’s threats are only making her dig her heels in more.”

Travis checked his watch. “Thanks for meeting with us, Tom,” he said. “I have to get back to the office.”

“Yeah, I’d better get going, too,” Tom said. “I’ll get a copy of the report to you and to Brenda for her insurance company.”

Dwight followed Travis to the curb, where both their SUVs were parked. “I’m supposed to meet with the DEA guy the Feds sent to deal with that underground lab we found out at Henry Hake’s place,” Travis said. “He’s had an investigative team at the site and has a report for me.”

“Mind if I sit in?” Dwight asked. “I’ve got a couple of questions for him.”

“Sure. I asked Gage to be there, too.”

Travis’s brother, Deputy Gage Walker, met them at the sheriff’s department. Two years younger and two inches taller than his brother, Gage’s easygoing, aww-shucks manner concealed a sharp intellect and commitment to his job. “Adelaide told me you two were out at the Stenson place,” Gage said as the three filed into the station’s meeting room. “I drove by there on my way in this morning. The fire really did a number on the place.”

“Tom says they’re sure it was arson,” Travis said.

“How’s Brenda taking it?” Gage asked.

“She’s stoic,” Dwight said.

“She’s been through a lot the past few years,” Gage said.

Brenda had been through too much, Dwight thought. And most of it pretty much by herself. She had friends in town, but no one she could really lean on. He got the sense that Andy’s betrayal had made her reluctant to depend on anyone. He wanted to tell her she didn’t have to be so strong around him—but he didn’t want her to take the sentiment wrong.

The bell on the front door sounded, and all conversation stopped as they listened to Adelaide greet a male visitor. Their voices grew louder as they approached the meeting room. “This is Special Agent Rob Allerton.” Adelaide didn’t exactly bat her eyes at the dark-haired agent, who bore a passing resemblance to Jake Gyllenhaal, but she came close. Gage grinned, no doubt intending to give the office manager a hard time about it later.

Allerton himself seemed oblivious to her adoration—or maybe he was used to it. He shook hands with the sheriff and each of the deputies as they introduced themselves. “Is this your first visit to our part of the state?” Travis asked as they settled in chairs around the conference table.

“My first, but not my last.” Allerton settled his big frame into the metal chair. “You people are living in paradise. It’s gorgeous out here.”

“Don’t spread the word,” Gage said. “We don’t want to be overrun.”

“What can you tell us about your investigation of the underground lab?” Travis asked.

“Not much, I’m afraid,” Allerton said. “So far our analysts haven’t found any illegal drug residue, or really any signs that the lab has been used recently.”

“What about World War II?” Dwight asked. “Could it have been used then?”

Allerton frowned. “Want to tell me how you came up with that time period?”

“The local history museum is having an auction to raise money,” Travis said.

“Right, I saw the banner the first day I arrived in town,” Allerton said.

The banner that had mysteriously disappeared—Dwight had almost forgotten about it in the flurry of activity since then. “One of the items up for auction—probably the most valuable item—is a book detailing a World War II project to produce chemical and biological weapons,” Travis said. “Supposedly, the work was done in underground labs in this part of the country.”

“No kidding?” Allerton shook his head. “Well, the equipment we found wasn’t old enough for that. In fact, some of it appears to have been stolen from your local high school, judging by the high school name stenciled on the glass. There are some indications—marks on the floor and walls—that other equipment or furnishings might have been in that space previously. There’s no way of knowing when they were moved. It would be an interesting historical artifact if that were true, but I can’t see anything illegal in it.”

“Somebody is upset about the book getting out there,” Dwight said. “They made threats against the museum director, and last night someone burned down her house.”

“That’s bad, but I don’t see any connection to this lab.”

“Seen anybody up there at the site while you were there?” Travis asked. “Any signs of recent activity?”

Allerton shook his head. “Nothing. I see why this guy, Hake, wanted to build a development up there—it’s beautiful. But the ghost town he ended up with is a little creepy.”

“Where do we go from here?” Travis asked.

“Me, I go back home to Denver,” Allerton said. “If you have questions or need more help, give me a call. I’d love an excuse to get back out here.”

He stood, and the four of them walked to the front again. Adelaide smiled up at them. Had she freshened her lipstick? Dwight forced himself not to react. “That didn’t take long,” she said.

“Short and sweet,” Allerton said. “Though I know how to take my time when the job calls for it.”

Adelaide blushed pink, and Dwight bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Allerton said goodbye and let himself out. When he was gone, Adelaide sat back in her chair, both hands over her heart. “Oh my! Did you see those eyes? He looked just like that movie star—what’s his name? You know the one.”

“Jake Gyllenhaal,” Dwight said.

“That’s him!” Adelaide crowed.

Travis and Gage stared at him. “You knew that?” Gage asked.

Dwight shrugged. “I like movies.”

“He didn’t find any signs of illegal activity in that underground lab on Henry Hake’s property,” Travis said. “That’s all I care about.”

“Mind if I go up there and take another look around?” Dwight asked. “I might take Brenda with me—she’s a historian, or at least, that’s her degree. I want to know if she sees anything that might link to the World War II labs that book talks about.”

“Fine by me,” Travis said. “Technically, it’s still a crime scene, since that’s where Gage and Maya and Casey were held after they were kidnapped, though I’m going to have to release it back to the owners soon.”

“Who are the owners?” Gage asked. “Isn’t Henry Hake’s name still on the deed?”

“Apparently, the week before he went missing, he signed the whole thing over to a concern called CNG Development. I found out last week when I tried one of the numbers I had for Hake Development. I got a recording telling me the company had been absorbed by CNG, but when I tried to track down the number for them, I couldn’t find anything. Then I checked with the courts and sure enough, the change was registered the day before Hake disappeared.”

“Coincidence?” Gage asked.

“Maybe,” Travis said. “But I’d sure like to talk to someone with CNG about it. The number listed on the court documents is answered by another recording, and the address is a mailbox service in Ogden, Utah.”

“Be careful when you head up there,” Gage said. “Allerton was right—that place is downright creepy.”

* * *

TAMMY PATTERSON, the reporter for the Eagle Mountain Examiner, agreed to meet Brenda at the museum the morning after the fire. Dwight had tried to persuade Brenda to stay at the ranch and not go in to work that day, but she had refused. Dwight had gone with her the night before to see the house, when the firefighters were still putting out the blaze, but she had wanted to see it herself this morning, alone. She had driven in early and made herself stop at the house and stare at the ruins. Her first thought was that this couldn’t really be her place—not the miner’s cottage that she and Andy had worked so hard to remodel, the dream home she had lovingly decorated and planned to live in forever.

She had allowed herself to cry for five minutes or so, then dried her eyes, repaired her makeup and driven to the museum. She couldn’t do anything about the fire right now, and crying certainly wouldn’t bring her house back. Better to go to work and focus on something she could control.