Noah sipped the black coffee in gratitude. He hadn’t slept much and his brain processes were getting dicey. “When the lab tested the tank from the house, they got matches to the samples of gasoline from other arson fires as well. It’s routine. We have unsolved arson fires backlogged all the time for lack of evidence. Sandra, they have me, the gasoline, and six unsolved arson fires all linked.”
Sandra scoffed. “So what? All of what you’re telling me is circumstantial at best. Hundreds of people use that station daily. It’s coincidence that the fires match.”
Noah frowned. He was forgetting something. He gulped coffee. Oh yeah. He’d skipped over the most important part. “The gasoline matches are only to the fires I’ve been investigating for the past six months.”
“What are you saying? Durvan now thinks you’re a serial arsonist?”
Hard as it had been for him to sit and hear it, that’s what the department now thought. “Durvan thinks I chose those particular fires to investigate to keep them from being solved,” he added for confirmation before Sandra’s could ask, “because I set them.”
“That’s ridiculous. You fight fires.” But her voice was hollow now, disturbed by this new evidence. “What does that mean?”
“It means someone’s been after me longer than I’ve realized.”
She frowned as she stared ahead, her lawyer game face in place. “Still circumstantial.”
“There’s more, Sandra. The last arson was a homicide. A homeless man died in the blaze.”
Her head swiveled toward him. “Oh, Noah.”
“Yeah. Durvan’s been looking for motivation for my suicide attempt. Something beyond Bailey’s and Jillian’s deaths. He thinks he’s got it now. The homeless guy’s death is what tipped the balance toward suicide for me. Guilt over causing the death of that poor bastard.”
“That’s why bail was set so high.”
“Yeah. But the charges haven’t been introduced, or I might not have gotten out, fearing flight risk. They are still pulling the final indictment together. That’s why they went back into the house. So far, all I’ve been charged with is the arson last Friday night.”
He looked over at Sandra, who gripped the wheel so tight her knuckles were white with the tension. “I didn’t do this.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
“Yes. I do. It could get worse. The way it’s going, there’s probably more stuff I don’t know about yet waiting to bite me in the ass.”
“What are you going to do?
“Work the case until I’m formally arraigned. I’ve been one dumb sum’ bitch not to pick up on something before now. This isn’t a simple crime of passion. It’s been a slow build to an execution.”
“You’re going to need help. I can move to Fort Worth, at least until you are formally arraigned. Run interference with the press.”
“No. I want you to stand back from this. You have a reputation to think of.”
“Then at least let me get you an attorney. You need someone with criminal experience.”
Noah nodded slowly. “I won’t argue with that.”
“There’s more, isn’t there?”
Noah nodded, hating to lay it on his sister’s shoulders. But he needed to think clearly, and no one thought more clearly than Sandra Glover. Except maybe a certain woman with Happy Hair. Carly had tried to make him see a pattern last night. He wished now he’d listened better. But dammit, they absolutely couldn’t have further contact now.
“They found footage from a surveillance camera two blocks away from where the fire took place Friday night. They showed it to me. It’s grainy and wasn’t meant to show action that far away. But it shows what looks like me and Harley in the parking lot and then entering the back of that store half an hour before the fire.”
“Jesus.”
He nodded. Something about the tape was bothering him, but they wouldn’t play it a second time when he asked. “I’d sure like a look at the footage again.”
“I’ll get Angel on it.”
Noah turned a questioning gaze on her. “Angel?”
“Angel Gutierrez. Private eye.”
He smiled for the first time in hours. First-rate thinker, his sister. “Okay. I’ll bite. On Gutierrez. But only if you promise to go back to Abilene and stay there until I call. He’s to deal only with me.”
“You can trust him. He’s the best.”
“One more thing. Carly Harrington-Reese had nothing to do with this. I want to keep her clear of the whole business. So I need you to get a message to her.”
Sandra tossed her head, anger breaking through her nerves. “You’ve just told me you’re about to be arraigned for homicide, and you’re worried about a woman?”
Noah gave his sister a considering look. “Carly saved my life. Without her, you and Dad and Mom and Andy would have buried me today.”
Sandra gasped but didn’t argue. “What do you want me to tell her?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“MODEL” CITIZEN SAVES SUSPECTED SUICIDE
CITY ARSON DETECTIVE CHARGED IN ARSON FIRE