Page 87 of Heating Up (Nugget)
“You don’t like Rigsby for this?”
“Of everyone we’re looking at, he fits the profile best. He was pissed off about me taking his fireworks. According to Rhys, he’s got anger issues . . . again, consistent with an arsonist. And he’s not the kind of guy who likes to answer to the man, if you know what I mean.”
“I do.” Sloane bit into her sandwich and washed it down with a swig of cola. “It’s hot in here.”
Brady got up and opened the kitchen door, leaving the screen closed. “Better?”
“Yeah; you have a nice breeze. So it sounds like Rigsby could easily be our guy. Why are you skeptical?”
“Because even a half-wit doesn’t leave his shirt at the scene, and believe me, I’ve seen it all. People who’ve left fingerprints, dropped matchbooks, even business cards. But this is too . . . pat.”
“Okay, then who would want to set him up?”
Aidan leaned over the table and ruffled Sloane’s hair. It was fun doing this with his little sister. The family hadn’t been too pleased when she’d run off to Los Angeles to become a cop. The McBrides were firefighters. But despite the trouble she’d had there—and it had been considerable—she was top-notch at her job. Tough as nails, his girlie sister.
“I got the impression Clay McCreedy hates Rigsby’s guts. You know why?”
Sloane grabbed the bag of chips away from Aidan. “You’re a hog. According to town gossip, Rigsby spread stories about Clay’s first wife cheating on him with the developer of Sierra Heights.”
“Griffin?”
“No.” She shook her head, as if the idea of Archangel Griffin being involved in something sordid was beyond comprehension. “Griff bought the place out of bankruptcy. The original owner was up to his ass in debt and was apparently being investigated by the feds for cooking the books. Way before my time. But it turns out Clay’s wife was doing the guy in a big way, and they wound up getting into a car accident together. She died.”
“Ah, man.”
“I tell you, sometimes this place is a soap opera. Anyway, Rigsby’s son, Sean, heard enough from dear old dad to taunt the hell out of poor Justin over his mother’s affair. Clay is protective of those boys. But if you’re thinking he’s setting fires in an attempt to frame Rigsby . . . no way. Forget about it. The guy’s a pillar of the community, a war hero, and personal friends with the Thurstons and Carl Rudd. Absolutely no way in hell he’d torch their places of business, or any, for that matter.”
“Okay. What about Trevor Thurston?”
“You mean for profit . . . the insurance money?”
Aidan nodded. The majority of arsons were for financial gain, usually carried out by professionals. And usually they got the job done. The sporting goods store and Bun Boy fires were pretty half-assed—thank God.
“I haven’t found anything that shows he’s in need of money. Bank records all look good,” Aidan said. “What do you hear rumor wise?”
“Nothing like he has a five-hundred-buck-a-night hooker problem. Are you kidding? Donna would kill him.”
From the little Aidan knew about the Bun Boy matron, Sloane was probably right. “I guess that brings us back to Rigsby. When are the results on the shirt due back?”
Sloane shrugged. “Hard to say. We’re not in Chicago anymore, Toto. Plumas County can move slowly.”
“Rhys and I want to wait before we go over to the Rigsby place, guns blazing. Could Rhys reach out to the evidence guys?”
“He can and he probably has. How’s your guy . . . what’s his name?”
“Duke. He’s okay. Been tweeting about it like he nearly lost his life pulling victims out of a burning skyscraper.” Aidan rolled his eyes heavenward. The guy was the epitome of a whacker. Still, it sucked that he’d gotten hurt.
“You on Tuesday?”
“Yeah. But I’ll be off in time for Tawny’s wedding. In a barn, huh?” Aidan couldn’t get over it, although he’d known a couple of guys who’d tied the knot in a firehouse. Different strokes . . .
“It’s beyond cool. Wait until you see it. And there should be lots of pretty cowgirls to chase after.”
“I’m bringing Dana.” He hadn’t told her yet, but that was his plan.
Sloane chewed on her lip. Aidan presumed it was to keep from responding with a snotty reply.
“Why don’t you like her? As far as I can tell, she’s been nothing but nice to you and Brady.”
