Page 64 of Raging Inferno

“You’re not having a funeral for Charmaine?”

“She wouldn’t have wanted one. They’re a waste of money. We’ll pray for her soul at the Sunday service.”

Presley was about to tell him what she thought of him when someone called his name and he left. Good for him, or she might’ve hauled off and slugged him.

“Take a breath, Presley.”

She glanced at Reggie. She’d forgotten he was there. “What?”

“You look like you’re about to explode.”

“I am. It’s as if Ezekiel is trying to erase Charmaine’s entire life. Memorializing her has been reduced to a mention during a sermon, and he’s actively recruiting a replacement wife. What kind of man does that?”

“Ezekiel, apparently.”

Presley crossed her arms. “Charmaine was killed.”

Reggie flipped his notebook closed and stuffed it in his pocket. “You heard her husband. She spends every night there. Someone left the sweeper plugged in, and she tripped over the cord in the dark, smashing her head into the stone floor.”

Presley blew up. “Damn it, Reggie. That’s too convenient. You seriously can’t believe it was an accident?”

He sighed. “I must follow what the evidence is telling us. I can’t make up scenarios to fit some narrative.”

She pointed a finger at him. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about what you must follow. The odds of the three friends dying in fires so close together are astronomical. You are committing malfeasance.”

“I’m not, and I agree with you, Presley,” he said, palms upraised. She realized she’d been yelling.

She leaned closer to him. “Then listen to me. I need to find a killer. I will do this without you.”

#

Reggie Branch watched the fire trucks depart as he put his notebook away. Presley Parrish was right. There was no way the fires weren’t connected. He didn’t believe for a minute they were accidents, but as he’d told her, that was where the evidence led. He couldn’t manufacture scenarios.

Her last words rang in his ears. She would do it without him. He didn’t doubt that she was an incredible detective. She worked for the premier security agency in the country. They didn’t hire just anybody.

He had run Margy Binder and Nancy Babcock’s incidents by his boss earlier, and based on the facts, he’d found nothing suspicious. Coincidental, yes. Suspicious, no.

That was before Charmaine had died in, once again, a fire.

Since the women hadn’t been in contact in years, Reggie had no motive or suspect. Even the causes of death weren’t suspicious. Presley’s own company had run tests, and no drugshad turned up in the victim’s systems, nor were there any ligature marks indicating the victims had been restrained.

Reggie was about to cross the lot to his car when something on the ground beside the church caught his eye. Taking out a flashlight, he walked over and crouched down. There were round bits on the ground. He withdrew a pen from his pocket and picked one up, bagging it in an evidence envelope.

It was late, but instead of going home, he drove to the station and headed to his desk. Much of the building was quiet. He was a floor up from booking, so he didn’t hear the nighttime busts nor the sobs of drunken arrestees. The other detectives had gone home. His temporary partner, Jed Flowers, had returned to South Dakota. According to Presley, he was a suspect.

A tug of a chain bathed light across his desk. Since they were recent, he had the files from Margy Binder and the Babcock’s fires handy. He took them out and spread them in front of him. Starting with Margy, he withdrew several pictures and studied them closely. He located a shot of the outside of the cottage but needed a magnifying glass.

Reggie dug around in his drawer but didn’t find one. He slid it shut and stood to check the cubical Flowers had been using while he was visiting. He found one and returned to his seat. Moving the picture beneath the light, his jaw firmed as he held the magnifier over the image and saw what he was looking for.

He grabbed Nancy and Gene Babcock’s folder and pulled out the photos. Sure enough, the same substance littered their yard. It wasn’t any old cereal.

It was Cheerios.

Reggie Branch needed to solve the case before another person lost their life. Would he have done so sooner if he’d listened to Presley Parrish when she first arrived in town?

There was no way to know the answer to that now.

#

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