I let out a soft chuckle. “While I appreciate being thought of as Truman’s boyfriend, we actually only met a few days ago. I came into town to help my friends with some construction work and came across Truman in the process. We hit it off quickly, but I assure you, I haven’t been around long enough to have any kind of motivation to burn down his place of business.”
Dirk sat back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You have an assault record in Texas.”
My stomach dropped. “I do.”
“So far, you’re the only person associated with this arson who has a criminal record,” he added.
I chose not to respond since he hadn’t asked a question. Suddenly, I wondered whether I should even continue this conversation without an attorney present.
Gail read from her notes. “There is also a report of you holding Mr. Sweet against his will earlier this week. A scene in town in which the local sheriff’s office responded.”
That was just plain ridiculous. “There were no charges filed, and you’re welcome to ask Mr. Sweet whether I was, in fact, holding him against his will.” I took a breath and decided to extend a small amount of trust to the investigators. “Listen, the assault charge was several years ago. My little sister was underage and drunk at a fraternity party. Her best friend called me to come get her. When I arrived, I found my sister being taken by a group of men into a back room. A fight ensued. That has absolutely nothing to do with arson or any other kind of willful property destruction. You’re wasting time if you’re looking at me for this.”
Dirk sighed. “I understand your frustration here, but it’s our job to question everyone.”
“Did you question the Stanners? Ask if maybe any of their associates got a little too close to the Honeyed Lemon that night with a blowtorch?”
My patience was nearing its end.
Gail said primly, “We’re not at liberty to share information gathered in the course of our investigation.”
But Dirk leaned forward and spoke calmly. “We are interviewing everyone remotely concerned with this case. I assure you we’re doing everything we can to find the person or people responsible, and we will not jump to conclusions because of your record.”
I appreciated his ability to remain professional, but that was about it. I didn’t feel confident in their ability to find a ghost, and if the Stanners weren’t responsible, then it would be practically impossible to discover who was. Unless… were there other Aster Vallians upset enough by the closing of the ski resort to harass Truman this many years later?
If so, what would have changed to make them suddenly want revenge after all this time?
After a few more questions, in which I emphasized they were more than welcome to corroborate my whereabouts and character with Michael Vining and Tiller Raine, they thanked me for meeting them.
I stood and thought of one more thing. “Was there really no video from a nearby business? I’ve heard several Aster Valley business owners complain about vandalism. I would have thought some of them might have put up simple surveillance cameras afterward.”
Gail surprised me by answering with specifics. “The janitorial company across the alley in the back of the shop has video from that night. There is no sign of anyone entering the shop through the back door.”
That information stopped me in my tracks. “The arsonist entered through the front door? In full view of Main Street?”
Dirk and Gail both nodded. Gail continued. “But it’s a very small town without much nightlife.”
“Still,” I thought out loud. “It was a Saturday night. Midnight isn’t that late on a Saturday night in spring. Sunset is later, and the weather isn’t as cold. Surely, someone saw something.”
“Well,” Dirk said with a nod. “One would think. We’re working with local law enforcement to canvass the locals. It takes time. Meanwhile, we need to be patient.”
I waved and called out a goodbye to Chaya, inviting her to come up to Rockley Lodge for breakfast in the morning if she was free. Mikey had planned another gathering of the Aster Valley business owners whether or not there was new information to share since there was now a plan in place to talk to a state law enforcement entity.
Chaya grinned wide and said she’d be there with bells on.
As frustrating as it was not to know who set the fire, there was nothing I could do to create information where none existed. But the conversation about surveillance video reminded me I’d wanted to put in some simple video cameras by Truman’s gate and front door at the farm.
I stopped by the big home store on the edge of town and picked up a surveillance camera kit I’d used on a jobsite several times before. It was easy to install, affordable, and practically indestructible. Instead of heading to the farm, I headed back to the lodge to pick up Truman.