Familiar Fire Page 7

  “Did Ms. Winn…decorate this room?”

  “It was the only thing she did right,” Alexis said, crossing the room with long steps.

  Kate had a mental image of a pastel Cruella DeVille. “Have you and Ms. Winn concluded your business dealings?”

  “That woman will never step foot in my establishment again. This room was her masterpiece. With my taste and inspiration, Evelyn achieved the pinnacle of decorating. And then when we moved into the dressing room and bath, she decided that we should shift the color scheme to white.” Alexis’s eyebrows rose and were lost under the fuzz of her turban. “White! What kind of color is white? The woman completely lost her mind. I had the bouncer escort her out and told her never to return!” She threw her hands into the air in a dramatic gesture. “White!”

  Kate had absolutely nothing to say to that. “Then your parting wasn’t amicable?”

  “Amicable? Are you serious? The woman had the taste of a Stepford wife. Our parting was not amicable. I have no use for someone with such boring taste.” She eyed Kate’s uniform with a suddenly critical eye. “Take a tip from a professional and change that color scheme to navy slacks and a kiwi top. Much better for your eyes and complexion.”

  “Thanks,” Kate said lamely. Whatever else Alexis Redfield was, she was a woman with a forceful opinion.

  “What exactly are you investigating? And why are you so interested in Evelyn?” Alexis asked suddenly. Her eyes widened. “She’s trying to collect on that bill, isn’t she? She actually turned me in. I can’t believe it. I made her take all of that wallpaper and material back. I cancelled the plumber and carpenter that she hired. I owe her nothing. Not one red cent.”

  Kate smiled. “I didn’t know you owed her money,” she fibbed, “but that’s a very interesting fact in light of what happened last night.” Kate had her now. Alexis had talked herself into a corner.

  “What happened?” She stepped forward, all eagerness.

  “You tell me,” Kate replied. “Where were you about ten o’clock last night?”

  “Here, darling.” Alexis smiled. “Having a drink with Bobby Bojangles, the piano player. He was here until…quite late. Now, tell me what’s happened.” Her eyebrows drew together in a V. “Evelyn wasn’t in a car accident or something, was she?”

  Kate already knew that if Alexis was involved in the arson attempt, she would have hired someone to do the dirty work. “Ms. Winn’s business was almost destroyed last night Someone set a fire.”

  “Another fire.” Alexis dropped some of her theatrical gestures. “That’s terrible. If that firebug isn’t stopped, I might be next.” She stubbed her cigarette out.

  Kate was instantly alert. “What makes you say that?”

  “Nothing, nothing at all.” Alexis slunk across the room. “Let me make us some tea.”

  Her sudden hospitality was another tip-off. Kate halted her with a cool sentence. “Forget the tea, Ms. Redfield. I want some answers. What makes you think you might be a target of arson?”

  “Why, darling, my establishment is the biggest draw in Silver City. There are other casino owners who are jealous of me. So jealous they’d love to see my place reduced to a pile of ashes.”

  The Golden Nugget wasn’t in Kate’s family any longer, but the idea of it burning to the ground was distressing. Even if it would get rid of an ocean of awful orange and green.

  “Has anyone threatened you?” Kate asked.

  “Not in so many words.”

  Kate checked her watch. She’d wasted enough time. She walked to Alexis, put a hand on her shoulder and pressed her into a chair. “If you know something, Ms. Redfield, now’s the time to tell me. If another business burns and I find out you held back information, I promise you that I’ll charge you as an accessory to arson. That’s a serious crime.”

  “I’m not an accessory,” Alexis argued. “You can’t do this. I’m a prominent businesswoman. I won’t be bullied by a…a…a female law person.”

  “I won’t be stonewalled by a person who is guilty of abuse of pastels.” Satisfied by the woman’s look of alarm, Kate leaned closer. “Now I have to get over to the boutique and investigate the scene. I want some answers. Who threatened you?”

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly a threat.” Alexis reached for another mint green cigarette. “It was Evelyn. She threatened to pull my hair out.”

  “And what prompted this threat?”

  “I asked that handsome fire chief Jake Johnson over for dinner.” Alexis’s long eyelashes brushed her cheeks in fake demureness. “And he accepted.”

  “You mean your falling out with Ms. Winn was over a man?” Kate wanted to shake her until her capped teeth rattled. Because the dispute wasn’t over any man—it was over Jake.

  “Yes. Evelyn had him, and I wanted him.” Alexis looked up at Kate. “And whatever I want, I get.”

  SO THIS FROU-FROU boutique is the latest arson scene. Pretty shoddy work after the thoroughness of the fire at the church. This could be the work of a, pardon the pun, copycat.

  Which brings to mind another complaint I want to register against the human species and their inadequate linguistics. Cats are the most unique and original of all creatures. How is it that we got stuck with a derogatory term such as copycat. Truthfully, have you ever known one cat to copy the behavior of another? I rest my case. It is humans who seem intent on dressing alike, talking alike, eating alike, etc. etc. I mean how many Pamela Lee blondes have you seen lately? Or surgically induced pouts? Humans have an absolute obsession with owning, wearing, or looking like the rich and famous. I shall, in the future, use the term “copyhuman.”

  Back to the mystery at hand, though. A true copyhuman would have taken more time to study the technique and patterning of the original arsonist and made a more sincere attempt to replicate the crime exactly. That’s the challenge—to do the same crime the same way with the same results.

  In the fire at Evelyn’s Boutique, this is not the case.

  Kerosene was used as the accelerant, and the fire was hastily thrown together in the garbage can. As I wander around this boutique I clearly see that a good fire would have helped to clear out some of this highly scented clutter. I’m a little dizzy from so much stuff packed into so little space.

  My deduction here is that another firebug was at work. And one who didn’t really intend to burn the boutique to the ground. So the question any good sleuth would ask is why?

  Kissable Kate is following a financial trail, but unless Evelyn Winn owes a ton of money to the bank and can’t pay it off, money doesn’t seem to be the motive for this fire. It looks more personal. Hastily done, poorly executed—the work of someone who hopes to gain something. Hmm. Revenge, perhaps.

  I can see that Kate shares my theory. She’s been standing in that corner of the room as if she’d been hypnotized by those odd-shaped candles. I think maybe she’s just trying to stay out of Jake’s way. They had their own fire going this morning. I thought I was going to have to get that black fuzz-ball of a dog to help me get out the water hose. Yep, there’s a definite spark between Jake and Kate. I do find it slightly depressing that Kate is attracted to a man who owns a dog—and a dog with some kind of lilting Irish accent. After all, he’s only been in America for what, twenty generations? What a crock! If Ouzo comes from lyrical Irish stock, I’m the Wizard of Oz.

  Uh-oh, speak of the devil, here comes that boot-licker as I speak. He’s signaling me to meet him outside. As if I could be deceived by his innocent and eager demeanor. He wants to get me out there so he can chase me up a tree. No can do, big boy. No can do.

  JAKE WATCHED KATE out of the corner of his eye. She and the cat were at the fire scene when he arrived, and he felt a jolt of pure desire at the sight of her. But she’d been elusive. Probably as confused as he was about the current of passion they’d switched on earlier that morning. But in the split second his lips had touched hers, the past fifteen years had disappeared. It was as if they were the same two teenagers who’d been so d
eeply in love and assumed they’d share their future. That’s where the trouble had started. They’d both assumed.

  She felt his gaze on her and turned away, her attention on the notes she was making. Still, when he approached, she was acutely aware of the intense look he cast at her neck. She could almost feel his lips there.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” he said.

  Kate nodded at the notepad she held. “I spoke with Alexis Redfield. At first I thought she might have been involved in this fire, but now I don’t think so.”

  “Alexis? She doesn’t seem the firebug type to me.”

  “What type is she, Jake?” Kate couldn’t help the sharpness of her question.

  “The pastel type,” he said, chuckling. “If you’d ever seen her apartment at the Golden Nugget, you’d have an idea of what she’s like.”

  “I’ve seen her apartment.” Kate frowned. Jake had obviously seen her apartment, too. If he’d stayed vertical long enough to notice the place. The thought rankled. “A fetish for pastels doesn’t prevent someone from having a criminal nature. Why, I’m sure Ted Bundy loved pastels. He probably only selected victims who wore pastels.”

  “But you said you didn’t think she was involved.” Jake was obviously baffled by her anger. “I was only agreeing with you.”

  “Naturally,” Kate snapped, unable to contain her jealousy. Had Jake been responsive to Alexis’s come-ons? “I have to get back to the office.” Kate took off without a backward glance.

  Jake stood for a moment trying to digest what had just occurred. Only an hour before, Kate had been melting in his arms. He hadn’t imagined it! It had happened. And now? She acted like he was lower than a snake’s belly. Jake had no clue of what had transpired between the.kiss and the kiss-off. But he was going to find out. Talk, conversation, intercourse, debate, argument—whatever route Kate chose—they were going to speak of whatever it was that had gotten under her skin.

  He checked with his firemen and made sure they’d gathered every shred of evidence—pathetic though it was. He whistled up his dog and took off for the sheriff’s office.

  KATE CLIMBED into her truck. “Come on, Familiar. I think we need to pay a visit to Evelyn Winn, another in the long line of conquests that our fire chief has left with smoldering embers.”

  If Jake wasn’t directly responsible for the Gilpin County arsons—and Kate didn’t really think he was—maybe his tomcatting ways had provoked some otherwise sensible women. Or maybe all of Jake’s rejects had formed a club—the Flamethrowers, or the Abandoned Arsonists. Kate felt her own temperature rising. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t stop herself. The kiss she’d shared earlier with Jake had opened the door on a lot of emotion. And it was damned uncomfortable to discover she was jealous. Especially when she knew intellectually that she didn’t have a right to be.

  She pulled the truck up to Evelyn Winn’s house and held the door open for Familiar. “While I question her, you snoop around.” Kate had already gotten into the habit of talking to the cat as if he were a partner. Sometimes she felt a little foolish, but the truth was that Familiar acted as if he understood every word she said.

  Evelyn Winn came to the doorway, her eyes still red from crying. She took one look at Kate and her uniform and burst into tears again. “Who would do such a thing?” she cried.

  “How much insurance do you have on the business?” Kate countered in a no-nonsense voice.

  The implication was not lost on Evelyn. She dried her sniffles. “Surely you don’t think I set that fire hoping to collect insurance. I’ve put my heart into that business. I love every item in the store.”

  Kate took a deep breath. Her anger at Jake was making her far too hard on the woman. “Sorry, Ms. Winn. Who would want to see your business destroyed? Is anyone out to get you or make trouble for you?”

  “I can’t think of a soul,” Evelyn said. As she motioned Kate inside the house, Familiar slipped inside undetected.

  Kate stopped in the foyer. To her left was a formal drawing room crammed with antique furniture. Pewter photo frames and candles were on every flat surface, the velveteen-covered furniture was large and dark, and long draperies pooled on the floor. There seemed no room at all for oxygen. But at least the color scheme was a dark hunter green and burgundy—not pastels.

  “Have a seat,” Evelyn said. “Would you care for a cup of tea?”

  “That would be nice,” Kate answered, surveying Evelyn. She was slender and pretty, her dark hair cut to frame her face and large brown eyes. Kate suspected that her distress about the fire was more than a little put on. Out of the corner of her eye, Kate saw Familiar take off around a corner. Probably headed for the kitchen. But he would also scope out the rest of the house. She had to give him enough time. Besides, Kate wanted to find out everything she could about Evelyn and Jake. If only—Kate told herself—because Evelyn and Jake were suspects.

  Evelyn reappeared with a magnificent silver tea service and what appeared to be fresh baked scones, cucumber sandwiches, and a plate of cookies. Kate checked an antique pendulum clock, which confirmed that it was almost lunchtime. Not even twelve and Evelyn was serving a full tea.

  Evelyn poured and chatted about the tea service and how she’d found it at an estate sale. Kate listened, noting the slight tremor in Evelyn’s hands as she poured.

  “I spoke with Alexis Redfield this morning.” Kate was not displeased to see that Evelyn almost dropped the tea pot. There was something going on between the two women. But what?

  “How is Alexis? I’m afraid we don’t see each other very often any more.”

  “How long have you known Ms. Redfield?” Kate asked.

  “We both came to Silver City about the same time. Less than a year.” She finished pouring Kate’s tea. “Did she tell you we were friends?”

  “No, not exactly. What made you decide to relocate to Silver City?”

  Evelyn’s hands continued to tremble as she replaced the teapot on the tray. “I don’t know. It was a fluke. My boutique needs a big tourist trade.” She shrugged. “I always adored the West.” She picked up the pot and started to pour her own cup, concentrating on the dark golden stream of tea.

  Kate decided to change tactics. “Ms. Redfield said she owed you money.”

  “She did?” She looked completely panicked.

  “I suppose I stated that incorrectly.”

  “I should say so! She gave me free rein to decorate her apartment above the Golden Nugget. She wanted all of that sherbet and green, which can be refreshing if done with a light touch. But my goodness—” Evelyn opened her eyes wide. “I couldn’t even go in there after we were done. It felt as if the room had come to life and might eat me.”

  Kate couldn’t help laughing. She knew exactly what Evelyn was talking about.

  “Anyway, I thought Alexis and I had developed a certain…understanding. That our friendship could survive the truth. That apartment of hers was so overpowering that white was the only answer. And if you’ve talked with Alexis, I’m sure you know that white, or gray, or beige, or even ecru are all considered vile. The world should be a place of pastels, or so she believes, even if it makes all of her friends ill to visit”

  “So you ordered the materials to decorate—”

  “And she cancelled the job. I told her she owed me for the material, the part of it I couldn’t send back.”

  “Which would be how much?”

  Evelyn shrugged. “I have a good relationship with many of the suppliers I do business with. They bent a few rules and took a great deal of it back. It left about three thousand dollars that I had to eat.”

  Kate didn’t want to reveal that she’d snooped into Evelyn’s books. The amount showing in the red for Alexis Redfield was far larger than three thousand dollars. Either Evelyn was lying, or perhaps she’d simply never corrected her bookkeeping after the merchants had accepted the materials back. Perhaps Evelyn’s only fault was poor bookkeeping. That—and the fact she’d dated Jake. S
o, why was someone trying to either frighten her or burn her out of business?

  “Where were you last night?” Kate asked. She knew Evelyn wasn’t the person she’d seen leaving the boutique. There was no way the slender woman could have been the figure she’d seen in the alley.

  “I was here, reading a book.” Evelyn’s expressive eyes showed worry. “Why? Am I really a suspect in my own fire?”

  “This isn’t the first fire in Gilpin County, but it was the most sloppily done.” Kate set her teacup back on the tray and stood. “As far as I’m concerned, until the arsonist or arsonists are caught, everyone is a suspect.”

  “That’s outrageous. I refuse to be a suspect. I’m an innocent victim. Anyone with eyes can clearly see that I’m the one who’s suffered here. That’s why law officers don’t get any support anymore. You treat the victims like suspects.”

  “I’m sorry.” Kate walked to the door, holding it open a crack for Familiar, who’d appeared in the hallway. Evelyn had never even noticed the black cat. “I’ll be in touch,” Kate promised her as she closed the door. One thing was certain, both Evelyn Winn and Alexis Redfield would bear watching. Those two women were neck-deep in something, and Kate wanted to know exactly what it was.

  Chapter Six

  Kate held the door of the sheriff’s office open for Familiar. The grilled tuna she’d ordered for him was in the carryout container. On the drive back from Evelyn’s, the cat had been completely uncommunicative—until he’d seen the restaurant that specialized in seafood delicacies. Now Kate eyed him, wondering if he really was a detective cat or just a gourmet freeloader.

  “Meow,” Familiar demanded, gaze fixed on the styrofoam container.

  “I’ll bet you’d prefer it on bone china,” she said as she put the food on her desk for him.

  Ignoring her, he started to eat.

  “Kate.”

  She whirled around. Her office was off-limits to the other members of the sheriff’s department—unless she’d asked them in. She found herself face-to-face with Jake.