Sea Glass Sunrise (19 page)

Hannah simply rolled her window up, letting that be her response. Undeterred as always, Kerry grinned and threw kisses at her, and Hannah knew she was in for it later. Kerry. Mongoose. If the moniker fit . . .

Logan pulled away from the curb as Hannah settled into her seat, thankful the seat belt went over her good shoulder. “Okay, Chief, shoot,” she said, when they were a few blocks further down High Street.

“Actually,” he said, “I want to follow up a little on what Kerry was just saying, first.”

“Seriously? Since when do any of us want to go voluntarily down Kerry’s path?”

“When that path leads to our number-one arson suspect?”

Hannah didn’t so much as blink. She folded her arms and shifted toward her brother. “Really? Okay, I’ll go first then. You mean the very same suspect whom you mentioned to Alex as someone you thought I was having a thing with? Which is why Kerry is on that track, thankyouverymuch.”

“Are you?” he asked, also not missing a beat, and quite serious.

“Why does it matter?” Hannah asked, rather than quantify whatever it was she was having with Calder. Although it was nothing. Sort of.

“Arson suspect?” he repeated.

“You said you knew he wasn’t guilty. I know he’s not guilty. He’s no longer a suspect. So the subject is moot.”

“I believe he didn’t do it, but so far, we can’t turn up any other credible leads. And I have no actual proof exonerating him. Unless . . .”

“Unless, what? Unless I told you I was standing about a hundred yards away from the boat pier, talking with Calder, when the boathouse blew up, and he didn’t do anything or say anything, or act suspicious in any way prior to the explosion. And that, after it happened, his reaction was the same as mine. Utter shock. Oh, wait, I already did tell you that.” Her eyes darkened. “Or did you want me to tell you we were off somewhere doing hot and sweaty things when—”

“Okay, okay, uncle,” Logan said, waving one hand. “I’m not questioning where you were when it happened. I wanted to know if your statement could in any way be called into question because of whatever is going on between the two of you.”

“Wow. I can’t even believe you’d have to—”

“Before you get all high and mighty, last I heard you were in a long-term relationship with Tim Underwood. Then you sit across my interrogation table and—”

“Oh please, it was the break room and I was nothing less than one hundred percent professional, nor is there anything unethical—”

“You sit across from me,” he reiterated, talking over her, “and it’s quite clear to me and anyone else with eyes in his head that there are enough sparks striking off the two of you to have started that fire from halfway up Hill Street.” He flicked a gaze at her, then back to the road. “So, what’s going on? No details, just—” He broke off, blew out a breath, and his shoulders relaxed a little, as did his two-fisted grip on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. I just . . . I’ve known for a while something is wrong, with you, or in your life, or . . . something. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what to say, so I figured you’d come to me when you were ready. I had a few things going on in my world, but that’s no excuse.”

“Tim and I are no longer together,” she said, just putting it out there, boom, done. He’d hear about it from Alex or their sisters anyway.

He glanced at her, then reached over and put his hand on her arm, squeezed gently, before returning it to the steering wheel. “I should have called, or pushed, or gotten Barb to push. I’m—you know I’m not good at this stuff.”

“Logan,” Hannah said quietly, abashed now, her irritation fleeing as quickly as he’d stirred it up. “I—I guess I owe you an apology. The whole family. Barb, too. I should have said something. Maybe not when it happened, but at some point since then. I just . . . I had to deal with it on my own. I didn’t say anything at the time, because we broke up over Christmas. I knew it was a special holiday for you and Alex, you’d been together a whole year.” She smiled over at him. “Fiona spilled to me in an e-mail that you were going to pop the question over the holidays.” She punched his shoulder, and he mock winced. “Who knew you were such a romantic, you big softie.”

She looked away, ducked her chin briefly, then looked out the windshield. “So, when everything happened, I—I couldn’t—wouldn’t—intrude. It was a good thing, and I wasn’t going to spoil a good thing with my bad thing. It’s okay, I handled it.” She didn’t say more, and wasn’t sure she ever would. Logan had always been protective of his sisters, maybe a little overly so in their younger years, but while it had made her feel good, and loved, and safe, she also knew it was part of the burden he carried, whether his siblings wanted him to or not. She wasn’t going to add to it.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “About Tim. About . . . everything there. I want you to be happy.”

“Seeing you and Alex together makes me happy,” she told him, never more sincere. “Being here, being home, makes me happy.” It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him the rest, that she’d quit her job, was in the Cove to stay, but without going into greater detail on why she was moving back, she wasn’t really sure how to explain. She should have prepared something.

Then he said, “So, about Calder Blue. How well do you feel you know this guy?”

She frowned. “What is that supposed to mean? And once again I ask, why does it matter? He’s not a suspect.”

They’d left the town proper at this point and were heading south, in the opposite direction from their home on Pelican Point. Logan turned onto a narrow, paved road that wound its way down to one of the many tiny inlets off of Half Moon Harbor. He drove only a short way, then pulled over, leaving the engine running. Now he shifted to look at his sister. “It means I want to hear your take on the guy. Beyond the facts. How well do you know him?”

“I just met him a few days ago. We’ve crossed paths a number of times since. We’ve had a few conversations. Casual conversations. I don’t know him that well.”

Logan sighed, then looked out the windshield, his expression somewhat conflicted.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, spit it out.”

“I have an eyewitness who saw you getting a little cozy with Blue in front of Hartley’s.”

“Did Owen say that?”

“You know I can’t tell you. Calder did mention to me he’d spoken to Owen. Is the eyewitness account true? Because then I need to understand
casual
as you mean it.”

“Are you asking as the chief of police, or as my big brother?”

He looked at her, eyebrow raised. “Should I be asking as your big brother?”

She swore under her breath. “I wasn’t doing anything illegal, Officer.”

“Stop it.”

“No, you stop it,” she said, then relented, her shoulders drooping. “Logan, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Just give me your gut opinion on the guy. Good guy? Possibly not a good guy? What do your instincts tell you?”

Hannah didn’t know whether to laugh or swear.
My instincts about men. Good question.
“All I can tell you is that in my conversations with him and my interactions with him, he’s been polite and well mannered, and has gone out of his way to be helpful.” She recalled something else. “He has known from the first moment, or close to it, that you were my brother. I mean, that my brother is the police chief. Fiona told him at the accident site. So why would he be getting chummy with me if he was planning this supposed arson?”

“Because who better to get close to, to cover his ass?”

She rolled her eyes, but she hated to admit that Logan was planting seeds of doubt in her. Her rational mind said no way, but . . . given how blind and stupid she’d been about the last man she’d allowed into her life, what if she was wrong? “Did you run that check on him?” she asked. “Of course you did. So you know he’s got a clean record.”
Please don’t let me be wrong.
She’d bluffed about having run her own check. She’d considered it, but hadn’t wanted to make use of any of her old contacts. More than that, she couldn’t determine whether she wanted to know as his lawyer, or as a woman, and was annoyed enough with her uncharacteristic uncertainty that she hadn’t acted. “He’s too responsible a person,” she said. “Works for a generations-old family firm. Has three younger brothers, a handful of nieces. Runs a farm. Rescues horses. Even learned acupressure to help relieve their pain.”

Logan’s mouth twitched in a smile. “And yet you hardly know the guy.”

“Stuff comes up in conversation,” she said pointedly, “even casual ones. Why are you still pursuing him, or my take on him, if you know he’s not guilty?”

“Because without finding anyone else, I need to prove he’s not guilty. You know how this town works. Just because I think he’s clean—”

“Don’t underestimate your opinion. The people of this town adore you and respect you. Instead of looking for proof of who didn’t do it, find who really did do it. Did you talk to Winstock?”

He nodded. “He has a solid alibi. He was down at his yacht club in Bar Harbor.”

“He was supposed to be having a dinner meeting here in the Cove with Calder. Why would he be hours away in Bar Harbor? He canceled at the last minute, so if he was all the way down there, he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it long before he actually cancelled. Did you check?”

“Of course. And he was there. I don’t know what the deal is with his delaying his meetings with Blue.”

“You questioned him, though, I presume, so what did he say was the reason?”

“He didn’t. Once we established he wasn’t in the Cove during the fire, he politely excused himself and invited us to contact his lawyers if we had any further inquiries.”

“And you don’t think that reaction was a little over-the-top?”

“I think it was classic Brooks Winstock, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve got nothing to go on there, and without anything connecting him to Calder Blue other than this supposed contract they have—”

“Supposed? Did Brooks deny there’s a deal between them?”

“I didn’t say that. My point is without probable cause to suspect Winstock, I can’t get clearance to dig into his personal information.”

“Like to see if he paid someone to bomb Jonah’s boathouse, you mean? Because who else would have a direct stake in causing Jonah Blue trouble so he’d either sell the place or have to close his business?”

“We don’t know for certain that it’s that complicated. Could be he just pissed off a supplier, or one of his guys, and they torched the place.”

“First, I’m sorry to say this, but I don’t think any of Blue’s guys would be smart enough to set a boathouse fire that is clearly arson, but manage to do it in a way that leaves absolutely no trace and no trail behind.”

Logan nodded. “Agreed. Doesn’t rule out a vendor.”

“No, it doesn’t, though it’s still an extreme reaction. Did you talk to Jonah about who might be mad enough at him to wish him or his property harm?”

“You know we did. And no, he doesn’t have any names.”

“Because he wants to believe it’s Calder.”

Logan didn’t deny that, which was the same as saying she was on the right track. “What I need is a credible lead—any lead—that will take me in a different direction,” he said. “And the sooner, the better.”

“Are you getting some kind of pressure about this?”

“You mean other than from Jonah? No. But I’m getting married in less than forty-eight hours, and then I’ll be gone for ten days.”

“Right.” She shook her head. “Crap. Of all the times for something like this to happen.” She looked at him. “You don’t think whoever did this chose the timing of it to coincide with your being gone, do you?” She leaned more heavily into her seat and let her mind go down that trail.

“I can’t rule it out, but it doesn’t seem likely. Not based on what I know at the moment, anyway.”

“Except you don’t know anything.”

They both fell silent for a moment and she ran through the previous night again in her mind, then started to list everyone connected with the docks, with Jonah, with the proposed club . . . but nothing stood out, nothing niggled, nothing seemed off. Except Winstock. Who had a lock-tight alibi.

Then Logan suddenly swore under his breath.

“What?” Hannah demanded. “What just occurred to you?”

“There is one other thing after all,” Logan said quietly.

Something in his tone made her feel a thread of alarm. “Just tell me already.”

“A possible motive for Calder Blue.”

“What reason could he possibly have—”

“You know the family feud story, that the children Jed took might have been his, or might have been Jeremiah’s.”

“That was over a century ago. What on earth could tie that to—”

“If they were Jeremiah’s kids, or even one of them was . . . it’s possible then that Calder is a direct descendant of Jeremiah. Not Jedediah. And that property of Jonah’s is an inheritance that has been handed father to son in the hundred-plus years since.”

“You think Calder is here to put some kind of claim in on Jonah’s property as his rightful inheritance?”

“I don’t know. I will say I talked to Owen, and he said it appeared Calder knew nothing of that side of the story.”

“Well, there you go then. If you can’t trust Owen’s judgment—”

“I do. That’s not the point. It helps explain Jonah’s reasoning for suspecting him with such certainty. And the inheritance could be used against Calder, as an argument that he did it.”

“Even if he’d known about that particular family secret, it still wouldn’t explain burning the boathouse. Why burn up the inheritance you’re hoping to claim?”

“I didn’t say it was a perfect motive, just that we need to keep in mind every possible slant to this. Cover our asses, his ass, figure this thing out. Not just to nail who did it, but to keep them from nailing an innocent man and getting away with it.”

“So, just to be clear, you still think Calder is innocent?”