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Authors: Starr Ambrose

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Up in Flames (24 page)

BOOK: Up in Flames
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“But isn’t she just about the only one who believes in you? Why wouldn’t you want her help?”

He saw where she was going now, and he wasn’t walking into that trap, acting as if he cared about her. Hardening his expression, he said, “I can take care of myself, and if you want to know the truth, your sister’s getting in my way. She’s poking into my personal life and possibly getting someone very worried. So I’m dumping her with her family. I figured you’d appreciate it, since someone tried to kill her.” He shouldn’t have to remind them of that, but they seemed suddenly hesitant about keeping her here. “If you’re not worried about her, then sorry I bothered. Just so long as you let Cal know I tried to leave her here, so he can’t blame me when something happens to her.”

“Because this is all about you,” Maggie said.

“Of course it is.”

Zoe did that same quizzical head tilt; maybe it was a family thing. “We thought you were interested in Sophie, that maybe you wanted to start up whatever you two had going ten years ago.”

“What? Hell, no!” She’d hit so close to his real feelings that he blurted out a denial when he probably should have laughed it off. He didn’t know how much they knew about ten years ago, but they couldn’t possibly know about last night, and he didn’t want them thinking he had tender feelings for Sophie. He needed them to disapprove of him. The best way was to channel Emmett. “She’s okay for a good time, but now’s not the time, you know? Maybe if the police clear my name, I’ll be interested.” If that wasn’t sufficiently disrespectful, he didn’t know what would be.

They exchanged a look again, and he couldn’t read it, but knew it wasn’t the irritation he’d been hoping for. Damn it, why not?


Will
the police clear your name?” Maggie asked.

He went with surly and defensive. “How should I know? Why don’t you ask your husband?”

“I already know what he thinks. He thinks you did it, and he intends to prove it.” She lifted an eyebrow. “But I’m asking you. Did you kill that girl?”

How had this become about him instead of Sophie? “Why do you care?”

“Sophie thinks you’re innocent. Maybe I care about the right person being caught, too.”

He didn’t mind misleading them, but he wasn’t stupid enough to confess to a murder to do it. “I don’t care what Sophie thinks, just what the cops think.”

“But she obviously cares about
you
,” Zoe added. “Enough that she blew her only chance at a job because of you.”

“She didn’t blow it; she could still get it if she wants it.”

“I don’t mean the movie job.”

He squinted at her in confusion. “What job? Where?”

“A lab in Juniper. The guy would have hired her if she didn’t have a connection to you. But she wouldn’t quit working for you.”

Damn it. She hadn’t said a thing.

“Then that’s a perfect example. She should just stay out of my life. Maybe you can convince her to do that.” He wasn’t sure how they’d done it, but he felt cornered. He turned on his heel before they could come up with more uncomfortable questions, and strode out of the barn.

It hadn’t gone as well as he’d planned, but maybe it was good enough. He’d let them know about the danger to Sophie and how it all related to him, and they would make sure everyone at the commune knew about it. He couldn’t do more than that.

Sophie couldn’t convince Zane to stay for supper, but Feather did. He had no choice, really. He mentioned the geology of the area and before Sophie knew it he was in the kitchen with Feather, discussing soil erosion and native habitats as she prepared supper. From the living room where she looked over Gwen’s designs for a loom, she heard him get roped into salad preparations as he talked with Feather, and before he realized it he was sitting down to eat with the whole commune.

It was awkward for about ten seconds, then Pete made a comment about Zane bulldozing the scenery to fit suburban sensibilities, and the ensuing debate carried them through supper. She stayed out of it, letting Zane defend his positions while her family got their first real view of his values, and his love for the land. She knew that would win them over where all her protestations of his innocence would not. She especially wanted Maggie and Zoe to realize he wasn’t the devious person they thought he was, but they watched without saying anything and she couldn’t tell what they thought. At least the rest of her family seemed to like him. By the time he said good-bye, he had several heartfelt invitations to return, anytime.

She walked him out to the truck, tucked against his side, reluctant to let him go. After spending last night in his bed, she was looking forward to doing it again, and he’d put her plans on indefinite hold. She backed him up to the truck, as if her slight body were enough to keep him there if he wanted to move.

“We have to stop this pattern,” she told him.

“What pattern?”

“The pattern of spending one night together every ten years. I don’t want to wait another ten years to sleep with you again.”

He tensed a little. “You know why you can’t stay with me now.”

“I know. I just wish things were different.”

“So do I.”

He didn’t sound as wistful as she did. More like he was bracing himself for something difficult. She imagined it was normal for him to expect a bad situation to get worse; in his experience, it always had. She couldn’t convince him otherwise, but this time he’d see that others could stand up for him. She was doing it, and she was confident her family would, too. Today had probably gone a long way toward making that happen.

“Bye for now,” she said, leaning in to kiss him.

He softened momentarily, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her thoroughly before pushing away. His face had already gone distant when he stroked his fingers down her cheek. “Good-bye, Sophie.”

“See you soon,” she told him as he got in the truck, purposely ending on a positive note. He didn’t answer, starting the engine and putting the truck in gear. He glanced at her once more, lifting his hand in a brief wave as he drove off. She watched until the tailgate disappeared around a stand of trees, then stood there even longer until the sound of the engine faded into the evening and he was gone.

Soft footsteps beside her made her turn. “Looks like Zane’s no longer a dipshit,” Maggie said.

She smiled. “I suppose not.”

“You still believe he’s innocent?”

“Without a doubt.” She turned to look her sister in the eye. “He didn’t kill anyone, Maggie. That sort of rage isn’t in him.” She couldn’t believe she was the only one who saw it. “What did you think of him?” she asked, caring more about the answer than she wanted to admit.

Maggie was silent for a moment, staring thoughtfully down the empty driveway. “He’s hard to figure out.”

It wasn’t negative, but it wasn’t the positive endorsement she’d hoped for. She tried not to let her disappointment show. “I guess.”

“There’s a lot more to Zane Thorson than I thought.”

Her serious tone gave the words more weight than they might otherwise have had. Sophie narrowed her eyes at her sister. “What did he say to you when I left you guys in the barn?”

Maggie gave her a hard look. “He told us someone tried to kill you.”

Sophie winced. “Shit.” When that annoyed Maggie, she said, “Don’t turn it into a big deal. We can’t even be sure the guy knew who I was. I might have been a random victim.”

“Or maybe it was because you were poking around, asking questions.”

She grumbled a few curses at Zane under her breath. “I was going to tell you.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. Tonight, after things settled down.”

“After Zane was gone.”

“Yes,” she snapped. “Because Mom and everyone would get all upset, and I didn’t want this black cloud of doom hovering overhead, interfering with everyone getting to know him.”

“And because Zane might fill in the details you conveniently leave out.”

She was more steamed at Zane, but Maggie was the one standing in front of her. “Just what in the hell did he tell you? He wasn’t even there, you know.” She jabbed a thumb at her chest. “
I’m
the one who knows what happened.”

“But you don’t want
us
to know.”

She huffed her irritation. “That’s right, because it’ll just be one more thing to hang on Zane, another bit of so-called proof that he’s no good and I shouldn’t be around him. Just what you’d expect from a Thorson. Well, excuse me for not wanting you to lump an innocent man in with the social rejects and criminals.”

She didn’t expect to get away with a fiery tirade without setting off the same thing in her sister, and braced herself for a furious rebuttal. Instead, Maggie’s gaze was unfocused as she looked at nothing, nodding to herself. “No, that’s what
he
wanted us to do.”

Sophie frowned in confusion. “What?”

Maggie didn’t seem to hear her. She stared into the distance for several seconds before blinking and focusing on Sophie. “I need to go home.” As if the words had broken a spell, she turned on her heel and started toward the house.

“Wait, tell me what you . . .” She let her words trail off as Maggie broke into a trot. Her frown deepened. She was sure Maggie’s odd behavior had something to do with Zane, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what.

Zane noticed the black car parked at the side of the road, but drove past when he saw no sign that anyone needed help. Thirty seconds later it followed him up his driveway. A police cruiser followed it. They parked behind him, each car angled to the side as if blocking a potential getaway. This couldn’t be good.

He met them at the back of his truck, standing calmly with hands at his sides as two men approached. He recognized the guy in a suit as a detective he’d spoken to. The other wore a Barringer’s Pass police uniform. Both looked edgy, and the uniformed cop had his hand on his belt, too close to his gun for comfort. With yesterday’s nervous cop at the Greystone fresh in his mind, Zane wasn’t about to give him any reason to pull it out.

They stopped in front of him, crowding his personal space, but he held his ground. “Detective Handleson, Barringer’s Pass police,” the suit said.

“I remember.”

“Zane Thorson, you’re under arrest for the murder of Rena Torres.”

Zip cuffs suddenly appeared in the uniformed cop’s hands and he grabbed Zane’s arm, jerking him around. The quick physical assault raised the instinct to resist, and he willfully restrained it, calmly allowing his hands to be cuffed as his mind whirled in sudden panic.

He’d been half-expecting this since Sophie discovered Rena’s body, but now that it was happening, he found himself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts.

The job at Reznick’s place wasn’t done. Hell, he hadn’t even had a chance to bill him.

Sophie was going to go ballistic when she found out.

The tenuous new friendships at the commune that he’d dared to think might be real would crumble to dust.

One depressing thought overrode it all—the police wouldn’t do this without solid evidence that would stand up in court. They must have found his DNA on Rena’s body.

The cop pulled him around to face the detective again. He saw smug satisfaction in the man’s eyes as he met Zane’s stony expression.

“You have the right to remain silent—,” he began.

“I want to speak to my attorney,” Zane said. Then he didn’t say another word.

16

S
ophie heard the
dogs bark outside but paid no attention until the front door of the commune slammed and Zoe yelled her name. By the time she got downstairs, Zoe had checked the kitchen, yelled, “Sophie!” again, and nearly bumped into her in the living room.

“I’m right here,” Sophie said. “What’s wrong?”

Even at a full stop, Zoe seemed to vibrate with energy. “Zane’s been arrested.”

Sophie felt her face go slack. Denial leapt straight to the front of her brain. “No! They can’t . . .” But she knew they could. Had been afraid they would.

“They took him in last night. First-degree murder,” Zoe said, spitting out facts as fast as Sophie could take them in. “Maggie called me. He’ll be arraigned later today. You can be in the courtroom. You won’t be able to talk to him, but I have the name of his attorney. We can see him before the arraignment.”

She froze for a second, absorbing it, swallowing back the sickness that rose in her throat. The game had changed. She had to get past the sinking realization that they had found evidence against him, and the certainty that his DNA combined with the Thorson name would be enough to convict him. Those thoughts would bog her down, overwhelm her when she needed to think clearly. To think of what she could do to prove someone else had killed Rena Torres.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring, but it was long enough for Zoe to look worried. “Sophie? Now do you think he might be guilty?”

“What? No!” It was the jolt she needed to get her moving. “I need to see him.”

“That’s why I’m here. Grab your purse and let’s go.”

She spun around and started up the stairs, then stopped. Turning, she looked down at Zoe. She didn’t want to ask, but had to know. “Do
you
think he’s guilty?”

Zoe’s mouth pressed into a grim line. “I don’t know, Sophie. But if you say he’s innocent, I’m behind you.”

It might be qualified support, but it counted. The wave of relief that hit her proved how much she’d needed to hear it. Finally, she wasn’t the only one on Zane’s side. She flashed her sister a quick smile and ran to get her purse.

Sophie had a million questions. Since Zoe had no answers, they drove in tense silence. She watched pensively as the sign for Natural Designs appeared ahead, dreading the sight of the closed storage barn and deserted yard. The place had always hummed with Zane’s energy and busy schedule, and the thought of a quiet, shuttered office and barn only deepened her anxiety over Zane’s future.

But the place wasn’t deserted. A van and a pickup truck were parked outside the office, their owners leaning against them as if waiting for someone to open the gate to the equipment yard.

Hooter and Manny. Damn, Manny had responded to her plea to return to work, and now she had to tell him to go home.

“Turn in, Zoe,” she directed, already disliking what she had to do. “I don’t think Zane’s employees heard the news yet.”

She hated that their worries would be for themselves, not Zane. Manny might express polite concern, but from what she could tell he avoided interacting with anyone more than necessary, Zane included. Zane had told her his family was in Mexico, and he seemed to have no close friends. Hooter wouldn’t care about anything other than his lost income.

Zoe pulled up behind the other vehicles. Sophie got out, her stomach tightening at the thought of what she had to say.

A toothpick hanging from Hooter’s mouth bobbed in time with her steps as he watched her approach. “Hey, sweetheart, where’s your gloves and work boots? Or did you chip a nail and call in sick?”

His taunting slid off her with no effect, irrelevant in the face of a more serious issue. She said it fast to get it over with. “No one’s working today. Zane’s been arrested, and we’re all out of work until he’s out again.” She refused to accept that that wouldn’t happen.

Hooter skipped the initial disbelief she still felt. “Goddamn,” he breathed, letting the toothpick fall from his mouth. “The son of a bitch really did kill her.”

“No, he didn’t,” she snapped, glaring. “They arrested the wrong person, but he’s stuck until he can prove it.” When Hooter snorted in disbelief, she added, “You ever hear of innocent until proven guilty?”

He coughed out a sharp laugh. “You ever hear of the Thorsons, babycakes? Bad blood tells every time. You’re probably lucky to be alive, seeing how much time you spent with him.” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “Maybe I’ll raise a beer to local law enforcement.” He opened the door of his truck, then looked at Manny. “A word of advice, Man-well—don’t listen to Mary Sunshine here. She’s blowing rainbows out her ass. Thorson did it, and they wouldn’t have him in jail if they couldn’t prove it. If I was you, I’d be looking for a new job.”

Sophie stepped aside as Hooter started his truck and whipped it into a fast reverse arc, barely missing Zoe’s car, then shot down the drive toward the highway.

She looked at Manny. His calm face showed neither concern nor disbelief, and she couldn’t deny a stab of disappointment. “You don’t seem surprised,” she said.

He lifted one shoulder. “The body was buried here. Who else would do that?”

“Anyone!” The ease with which everyone took that as proof of Zane’s guilt annoyed her. “To divert suspicion.”

“No one else can get in.” He gestured toward the locked gate that had kept him and Hooter in the parking lot.

She frowned over the damn facts that kept pointing to Zane. “There was a second key in the office. Maybe someone made a copy. Or borrowed it. I don’t know.” She waved it aside, too irritated to list the infinite possibilities once someone knew about the spare key. “But I do know that Zane didn’t kill Rena Torres, and I intend to prove it. As soon as I figure out what the evidence means.” She muttered the last sentence in frustration.

For the first time, Manny showed a spark of interest. “What evidence?”

Cal hadn’t wanted her to talk about it, but it couldn’t possibly matter now that they’d made an arrest. “Rena had been around some exotic insects. If they can figure out where she’d been, it might indicate who killed her.”

His eyes widened and he absorbed the news in silence for a couple of seconds. “I didn’t hear about this.”

“It’s not general knowledge. The police asked me to identify pieces of beetles and spiders from her clothing, and to talk to a guy who sells them to see if we could find someone around here who has them.”

He froze for a few seconds. Surprised, no doubt. And confused. She couldn’t blame him. “Why they ask you?”

“I, uh . . .” She flushed, mildly embarrassed that she’d been so secretive about her advanced degree. “That’s what I studied in school. I was working for Zane because I couldn’t find a job in my field. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be secretive, I just didn’t want to give Hooter and Cory more ammunition.”

“So now you work for the police?”

“No. I mean, yes, but just temporarily. I was a consultant.”

“But you found out who has these bugs?”

He seemed to have trouble understanding her role, and she supposed it did sound odd. “I tried, but I didn’t get any names. The police will try again, though. Maybe search the records of the one dealer they know.” She wanted to believe that, but knew they’d never look further unless she could give them a reason. “Even if they don’t, I’ll find something. I can’t let Zane go to prison for something he didn’t do.”

“Maybe he did.”

“He didn’t. I’ve known Zane a long time, Manny.” Technically, it was true, even if they didn’t speak for most of that time. “I know he didn’t kill that girl.”

He nodded, looking at her as if reassessing his opinion of her. Adding more respect, she hoped.

“What will you do?” he asked.

Good question. She wished she had a better answer. “I’ll keep looking for people who keep exotic insects.”

For a moment his eyes seemed to be unfocused, as though his thoughts were far away. And unpleasant, judging by his puckered brows. “Like tarantulas?” he finally said.

Something about the way he said it sent shivers across her shoulders. “Manny, do you know someone who has exotic insects?”

“I don’t know him, but I know who he is. He talks a lot, likes to scare people with his big spiders.”

She tried to contain the excitement that was rising from her toes and shooting through the top of her head. One collector could lead her to others. “Does he live around here?”

He shrugged. “He goes to the Moosehead.”

Perfect! He could be more than a source of information; he could be the killer himself. “What’s his name?”

He hesitated. “I heard others call him Ogden. Brice Ogden.”

“Thanks!”

“Wait.” She had already started toward Zoe’s car, but turned back. “This man, he has dogs, too. For fighting. He would not talk to police.”

She nodded her understanding, wondering why in the heck Manny went to the Moosehead. He seemed too nice to hang out there. But as introverted as he was, maybe he just wanted a place where people would leave him alone. It was the reason Zane had gone there.

With a quick wave good-bye, she slid into the passenger seat, got out her phone, and began searching phone directories.

“What’s going on?” Zoe asked.

“I got a lead on someone who keeps exotic insects.” She gave her sister a quick look, and realized from her blank expression that she didn’t know about the bug evidence. “There were bits of insects on Rena’s clothes and hair, from exotic species. I identified them for the police, but they can’t figure out how she came in contact with them. If I can find someone who owns those particular insects, it could prove that someone else was with Rena Torres when she died.” She went back to her search, and didn’t need much time. “Here he is! Damn, he’s all the way on the other side of Juniper.”

Zoe’s forehead wrinkled as she puzzled out why that information might be irritating. “You can’t be thinking of going to see him.”

“I have to. He doesn’t like cops and won’t talk to them. Believe me, Zoe, these bug guys can be strange.” Or he could be perfectly normal with a scientific interest in spiders. But the fact that he hung out at the Moosehead, bragging about his big hairy spiders argued against it. She didn’t want to be stupid about this. “I’ll ask Cal to go with me. Off duty.”

“Sensible.”

She called. The fact that he answered right away seemed promising. “Are you off today?”

“All day.”

“Want to go with me to talk to a guy who owns a tarantula, and maybe other spiders or beetles?”

“Not really.”

Her good mood faltered. “Why not? I’m talking about a guy who could be responsible for those bug parts on Rena’s clothes. He might even be the real killer!”

“We’ve got the real killer, Sophie. I’m sorry, but you can’t argue with DNA. Zane lied—he was with her.”

“But he didn’t kill her!” It was starting to feel like shouting down a dark well and getting no response but her own echo.

She could hear Cal’s tight sigh. “A jury will decide that now. Let it go, Sophie. You tried, but you were wrong.”

“Have a nice day, Cal.” She hung up and looked at Zoe. “If Maggie talked to him, she didn’t get through. The cops think they have their killer. I’m on my own.”

“This is dumb, Sophie.”

But she was already dialing. “He’s probably not even home.” She said it to reassure Zoe while hoping it wasn’t true. After two rings, a man answered. She hung up, staring at Zoe in surprise. “He’s home!”

“Why’d you hang up?”

“So he can’t tell me not to come see him.”

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I’m trying to get information. He’s not going to kill me for asking a few questions,” she scoffed, then paused to ask herself if it was true. She’d
make it
true. She wouldn’t act threatening. Envisioning the scenario, she decided to be a collector looking for a fellow spider geek to give her advice. She’d seem harmless.

Zoe didn’t look as if she agreed. “Find another police officer to go with you.”

She shook her head. “He won’t talk to them, he’d be too suspicious. The cops can’t get a warrant to search his place just because he has a pet tarantula. They can only ask for information and hope for cooperation. And they won’t get it. And if he’s actually guilty of killing Rena and I come with a cop, it’ll only give him time to get rid of the evidence. By the time they have enough on him to get a warrant, any other exotic insects will be gone. Poof, no evidence. But right now he’s not suspicious, and he’s home.”

“And Zane will be in court in two hours. You won’t make it in time, and you’ll miss your chance to see him and talk to his attorney.”

She was right. Sophie leaned back and propped her elbow on the armrest, tapping her teeth in a nervous rhythm with her thumbnail as she thought it through. She could call the guy, tell him she was interested in exotics, and make an appointment to see him. If he didn’t say no. She remembered Artie’s suspicious tone on the phone and knew Brice Ogden would be even more wary of strangers if he was into dog fighting. It would be better to catch him off guard, to show up without warning.

But she’d miss Zane’s arraignment. Not that she’d be able to talk with him, anyway, but she wanted him to see her in court, to know that she had his back. Wanted to meet his attorney, too. Update him on her search for a collector.

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