Page 10 of Fear of Flames
Sheriff Perkins sat in the weathered tall chair behind his cluttered desk. Taking a deep breath, he tried to prioritize his thoughts. First, the fire was mostly out. The investigators identified a body in the rubble. The scene was still too hot to retrieve the body. Once it was retrieved, it would take some time to make a positive ID. And then there was the possibility of a witness. He concentrated on that. “I’m sending Wilcox to Indianapolis. He can learn if Shelly is there or if I’m right and she’s here.”
Skiles took a seat in the wooden chair across from the sheriff. The lack of comfort was intentional. Ralph wasn’t in the business of making his guests comfortable.
Ralph slapped the top of his desk, causing pens and papers to jump. “She’s out there. They won’t be happy if there’s a possible witness.” He leaned forward. “Drones. We could send up heat-sensor drones.”
“Not in this weather. They’d be tossed around like paper airplanes. The council would shit a brick if we destroyed those drones after they fought you about paying for them.”
Ralph hated bureaucracy to the point of obsession.
“What about an APB?” Skiles asked.
“Premature,” Sheriff said. “It’d look suspicious.” He took a cleansing breath. “Maybe my old eyes were playing tricks.” He liked the sound of that, even though he knew what he’d seen. A woman, through the flames and smoke. He hadn’t seen her face. The bright red hair was enough to identify Shelly Holdcraft.
“I’ll call the chief of police in Indianapolis in a few hours. By then, we should have a possible identification. I’ll ask them to give Shelly the news about Denny.” His mind was sweeping through scenarios that wouldn’t get him punished or dead. “No way she could get from here to there without a car. If they find her…”
Skiles shook his head. “Yeah, that car in the garage blew, blasting out the side of the garage. Shit, no one could make it away from there on foot.”
Ralph’s sleep-deprived mind was in overdrive. “If I’m right, we need to find her.” He met his deputy’s stare. “Where would you go? If you ran from Denny’s?”
“Depends on what I’m wearing. If I had boots, coat, and all that shit, I might consider walking to town.”
“We had cars and trucks up and down the road last night. No one reported a runaway woman.” If Ralph were a cartoon character, there would be wisps of smoke coming from his ears.
Skiles exhaled. “Hell, I don’t know.” His eyes brightened. “The reservoir. It’s frozen solid, and there’s easily a dozen or more fishing huts out there.”
Ralph suddenly stood, sending his chair flying. He bent down rubbing his left knee. “My joints don’t like this cold. Look out that window. You’re right. She’d search for a way to get out of the storm.” He walked to the window and nodded. “If Shelly was in Denny’s house and ran, either she’s frozen in some snowbank and we won’t find her remains until spring, or she sought shelter.”
“Sheriff, Pete Morrow’s boy trains hunting dogs for the Winston Hunting Lodge. I bet he’s got some dogs that could track Denny’s girl if she’s out there.”
Ralph turned back to his deputy. “Dogs need a scent. Anything with her scent went up in smoke or is under layers of ice from the tanks of water the fire department carted out there.” He waved toward the closed door. “Go find out what they’re saying about the investigation. We need to be prepared that they might be able to determine the COD.” A grin curled the tips of his lips, giving him a sinister sneer. “How’d Denny seem the last few weeks?”
Tom, who was now standing, paused and tilted his head. “Same. Same as always.”
The sheriff shook his head. “Quieter than usual. Kind of depressed.” He nodded. “That’s right. Dennis Holdcraft was depressed, possibly suicidal.” His voice took on a sympathetic tone. “Real shame. Just pitiful.”
No one had ever called Tom Skiles out for his intelligence. In the first grade, his teacher thought he should repeat the year. His father wouldn’t hear of it. Despite his lower-than-average intuitiveness, Tom’s lips too began to curl. “Right. After I report back what I learn about the investigation, I’ll head over to Gloria’s and get some coffee and breakfast. I’ll let it slip about poor Denny’s mental decline.” He shook his head. “Sad story.”
“Ask if anyone saw his daughter around. You know, she might have visited him because she was also worried about his well-being.”
Tom made a salute gesture and opened the heavy door.
“Close that,” Ralph barked. He wasn’t in the mood for company.
As he retook his seat behind the desk, his private cell phone vibrated in his breast pocket. It was the call he’d been expecting.
“Morning. Ralph here,” he said after hitting the green icon.
“That loose end, Dennis Holdcraft, tell me it’s tied up.”
Ralph sat forward. “He’s taken care of, just like you asked.”
“Good job, Sheriff. I had my doubts. Tell me what you found. Did we get the right guy?”
The Sheriff’s shoulders slumped as he leaned back. “I didn’t find anything to suggest that he had the type of operation you described. Shit, I asked around, even spoke to his previous employer. Most everyone said that he was a good ole boy who wanted some privacy after he lost his wife.”
Ralph scribbled a note on a small pad of paper: Wife dead. Never got over it.
“What did he tell you?”
