A Winter Wedding

An hour ago, when he’d pulled in, he’d come upon several of his employees, who’d shown up, expecting to work as usual. The barrier tape Chief Bennett had put up had kept everyone out of the building, but finding the plant in its current state had shocked his workers. They were more than a little curious as to what could’ve started the fire. However, Chief Bennett and the fire inspector he’d brought over—a bespectacled, balding man by the name of Ronald Lee—told him not to say anything about seeing Noelle at the plant last night. So Kyle had told his employees that he didn’t know what had happened, which was the truth, and sent them home for the day with instructions not to return to work until they received further word. Even if the factory portion of the plant could be made operational fairly soon, Bennett and Lee had indicated that it would take a couple of days to assess the safety of the building, investigate the cause of the fire and gather any evidence that could be found. Then Riley would have to remove what had been damaged, rebuild the necessary support posts and load-bearing walls, and clean up the mess.

With Christmas only ten days away, Kyle felt he was looking at mid-January. Luckily, he’d already promised his staff of fourteen a whole week off for the holidays, which was something he’d planned for all year. That would ease the effects of the shutdown for them. But paying his employees for other weeks they couldn’t work would stretch his resources.

Despite having received the text Kyle had sent her last night, and knowing it wouldn’t be possible to work, Morgan had come to the plant, too. She’d shown up a bit later than the others, since she’d been trying to catch as many as she could to save them from driving in for nothing. But she hadn’t been able to stay away, had told him she had to see it for herself.

He frowned at his melted and charred computer. It wouldn’t turn on, which came as no surprise. Morgan’s was the same, making him all the more grateful that she’d backed up both computers yesterday. She’d assured him of that before he’d sent her on her way, as he had the others. She’d also agreed they could limp along by running the business from home until the offices were rebuilt, and before she drove off, she took his company credit card to buy them new computers.

“Mr. Houseman?”

Kyle was crouched in front of his desk, trying to pry open the drawers. At the sound of the fire inspector’s voice, he stood. Chief Bennett had been with Lee as they’d carefully canvassed the grounds, as well as the building itself, going from the least to the most damaged areas. But Whiskey Creek’s police chief had taken a call and stepped outside to get something from his squad car just before Kyle had gone in to see if he could recover anything of value from his office. “Yes?”

“It was an incendiary fire. No question.”

“That means arson?”

Lee nodded. He came across as a strictly “by the book” guy, someone without much in the way of social skills. Kyle couldn’t say he liked him, but Lee seemed to know a hell of a lot about fires. So Kyle didn’t care that he wasn’t very personable.

“According to the burn pattern, the point of origin isn’t far from the front door.”

Kyle had suspected arson and yet he was still shocked. How dared Noelle go that far... “But the plant was locked. You heard me confirm that with my assistant when she arrived this morning. So either someone had a key, which is unlikely, since my assistant’s the only person who’s got one besides me, or they broke in.”

“They broke in. Smashed a window,” he said without any hint of doubt. “There’s a rock not far from the front door, and it’s much bigger than the smaller pebbles that are everywhere else. I think the culprit drove in, took that rock from the perimeter of the property and used it to shatter the window next to the door. Then he poured alcohol inside on the carpet, and—”

“Alcohol?” Kyle interrupted. “How do you know it was alcohol?”

“Ignitable liquids with high vapor pressure will flash and scorch while those with higher boiling components tend to wick, melt and burn. What I’m seeing is definitely the former.” He slid his glasses higher on his nose. “Besides, there’s a broken Jack Daniel’s bottle in the parking lot. Unless your employees typically bring alcohol to work, it stands to reason that whoever set the fire was running for his car and accidentally dropped it. When it shattered, he had to leave it behind. So we’ll collect the pieces and hope to get at least a partial print. I doubt he was wearing gloves or he wouldn’t have been so intent on taking it with him.”

He—or she? If they managed to get a print, Kyle would have something more than his sighting of that Honda to prove Noelle was behind this...

“I haven’t found a lighter,” Lee was saying, “so I’m assuming whoever it was dropped in a match—or a whole book of matches.”

“From Sexy Sadie’s, perhaps?” Kyle asked drily.

“Excuse me?”

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