Page 62 of Billionaire Protector

“I’m not implicating you, but maybe someone else is. Perhaps they want more than to damage your reputation. Perhaps they want people to believe you’re the arsonist.”

Her breath hitched. He thought someone was framing her? Before she could ask a million or so questions, they arrived at the small community park, a green space of dewy grass, tall oak trees and bougainvilleas overfull with cascading violet leaves. The sweet scent of lilies and gardenias filled the car, complemented by the stronger smell of pine and grass. A small stream babbled a path in the center, where tiny furry and feathered residents scurried, flitted and crawled, living in a harmonic ecosystem next to their human counterparts. It was a place of beauty, calmness and meditation, at least usually.

Right now, the scene was anything but serene. A small crowd had gathered around the fallen clock, paying solemn respects to the former town treasure. Both the decorative timepiece and its ornate wooden stand were now a heap of broken timber, melted beams and twisty gears, utterly unsalvageable. Her heart cracked, just a little. Who would do this?

Whoever it was, she would find them. She jerked the car into park and jogged into the open space. “Everyone stay back,” she ordered. “We don’t want anyone getting burned.”

But her fears were unfounded, as she came upon the remains. Unlike her last fiery dance with the arsonist, there was no smoke or smoldering. Clearly the danger was over, at least for now.

“Don’t worry, Sheriff,” Leonard, the town’s sole parks and recreation worker, stared at the clock, his long, bony hands shoved into the pockets of his overalls. His shock of white hair was limp, the grooves of his weathered face deepened and his expressiondevastated. He used to proudly tell every resident and visitor for the last three decades how he witnessed the installation of the clock. “It’s just a little warm. It happened hours ago – you can still make out the time.”

How peculiar. Everything was destroyed to tiny pieces, except the clock’s face. As the older man indicated, the frozen hands were still visible through the broken glass.

“1:25 a.m.” Cole frowned as he traced a twisted piece of metal. “It’s not hot enough to burn, but it does feel warm. That’s strange considering how long ago it was. Was the clock definitely working?”

Leonard nodded. “To the second. I stopped by the park yesterday afternoon, and it showed the right time. This morning, nothing was left. But I wasn’t the one who found it. Someone claims to have seen the guy.”

“Really?” Cole lifted himself up and removed a digital recorder from his pocket. “Who would be in the park at one-thirty in the morning? And why?”

Sarah rubbed her hands together. It didn’t matter who they were or why they were there. This was the first break in the case – a witness who could potentially identify the criminal. “We’d like to talk to him immediately.”

Leonard shifted his gaze to the grassy ground. He should be happy to help catch the arsonist who’d been setting the town ablaze, yet his discomfort was palpable. “The man doesn’t needmuch of a reason to do anything. To be honest, I’m not sure he can help.”

“Why not?” Sarah looked around. “Where is he?”

“He’s right here,” a loud voice sounded from the bushes, and a man came stumbling through. Sarah swore under her breath as Leonard’s reluctance became painfully clear. “Why are you frowning, girl? Aren’t you glad to see me?”

Not when he was drunk, hungover or both. Which was pretty much always. With bloodshot eyes, filth-covered clothing and a drunk man’s stagger, Alfred Tanning presented a sorry scene. He reeked of seventeen types of alcohol, and by his sticky chest and hair, he’d all but showered in them. The entire crowd took a step back.

Sarah sighed. “I’m working, Dad.”

Cole moved closer, brushing against her. His steady presence was a sign of solidarity, support and comfort, lightening her spirits, despite the situation. She regarded her father, forced out the words, “Leonard says you were here overnight. Did you see anything?”

“Of course, I did. I’ve been telling these idiots for the last twenty minutes, but they won’t listen to me.”

Sarah winced. “Dad–”

“I’m telling you, it didn’t happen overnight. It was just a few hours ago. I saw him with my very own eyes.”

She didn’t ask why he’d spent the night in the park. It wasn’t the first time. “But the clock stopped at 1:25 in the morning.”

“I don’t care what the clock says. He tinkered with the time before he set it on fire. It was broad daylight outside, not nighttime. And it was a big guy, like a linebacker. Actually, I can picture him in a football uniform just like the one he used to wear.” He jerked a finger toward Cole, or at least made an attempt. Instead, he implicated a prickly cactus as both arsonist and football player.

Sarah closed and opened her eyes. She exchanged a glance with Cole, who raised a silent shoulder. Even if there was virtually no chance of Alfred giving an accurate description, much less something admissible in court, she needed to be as thorough as possible. “What did he look like?”

“He tried to tell us earlier,” Leonard broke in. “First he said he had black hair. Then blond. Then it was red. Next, he thought it was a woman. Finally, he said it may have been a large pink rabbit. He’s been…” He tipped his hand in a drinking gesture. “You know.”

Sarah sighed as Cole clicked off the digital recorder. There was a difference between being thorough and wasting your time, and pink bunnies definitely crossed that line. “Thanks, Dad, but we can handle it from here. Can you wait on the bench while I finish up?”

“No, Sarah!” Alfred raised his voice, startling the jittery crowd. Sarah gritted her teeth. She really didn’t feel like arresting him for public intoxication… again.

He stumbled closer. “I know what I saw. I may have been a little confused earlier from a beer or two, but I’m sober now. I’m telling you, it just happened, and it was a big guy.”

“Okay, Dad,” Sarah said wearily. “Let me get some statements. Please.”

Alfred opened his mouth to argue further, but Cole stepped closer. He spoke quietly, “Sir, we can’t do a full investigation without giving everyone a chance to speak. Please let Sarah do her job.”

Alfred looked at Cole, then at his daughter. His shoulders drooped. “I guess I’m not sure of exactly what I saw.”

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