Dr. Vaughn.”
“Graham. Just call me Graham.”
There was a pause. “Don’t think so, Doc. You operated on my wife four years ago when she had that burst appendix. She was scared spitless, and you took such good care of her it was like she was your own. You’re the Doctor.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“So that’s why I can’t figure out why anybody’d want to hurt your property.”
Graham closed his eyes. “Neither can I. How was the fire started?”
“Pretty simple. The perp used the old cigarette-and-matchbook trick. Attach a cigarette to an open book of matches, so the matches will ignite when the cigarette burns down, giving the arsonist time to get away. Looks like the perp took plenty of precaution—used four of these babies, after pouring a stream of lighter fluid from each matchbook to the house, which he had liberally doused with gasoline. It’s no wonder Ms. Traynor smelled the fuel.”
“Any leads?”
“Not much to go on right now. My men and women are good, and we’ve got a lot of help on this case, but we haven’t found a culprit yet, only the sighting of a black sedan in the neighborhood sometime before the fire began.”
“Who saw that?” Graham asked.
“A neighbor down the road from you, coming home from working a late party.”
“There are a lot of people with black sedans,” Graham said. “That doesn’t tell us much.” Carl Mackey had a black sedan, as did the Jasumbacks.
“You’re right, it doesn’t. We’ll check out your renters, of course. We’ve already started the interview process. We did receive a call later this morning about Jolene Tucker. She was run off the road and injured when driving back into town after a trip out to your place for a quick photo shoot just before first light this morning.”
Graham frowned. He’d known she would show up sooner or later. “Who would have run her off the road?”
“I can think of a few people who’d like to do it,” the man muttered.
“Where is she now?”
“No idea, but she earned herself a trip to the E.R. via ambulance. She had a banged-up leg, was treated and released. She insisted it was deliberate.”
“Did she get a description of the automobile that ran her off the road?”
“Sure did,” the captain said. “We even have the vehicle impounded. It was a brown Ford Expedition stolen from a convenience store two blocks from Clark Memorial Hospital earlier this morning because some trusting idiot left his keys in the ignition while he went in to get a cup of coffee. Bet he doesn’t do that again.”
“So no leads there.”
“Nope. The police found the vehicle abandoned later, also near the hospital. Might not be any connection to our fire, but we’re checking all possibilities. You can bet the incident will be in tomorrow’s paper. Jolene’s need for attention might even be a good thing right now, if it attracts a witness or two.”
Graham thought again about Preston’s concerns for Willow and her fears that someone might be after her…and last night’s case of mistaken identity. “What kind of car was Jolene driving?”
“It’s a red Kia Sportage, which is the reason she didn’t sustain any more damage than she did. Good little cars. My wife drives one.”
As the captain lapsed into rhapsody about the delights of his wife’s car, Graham closed his eyes and recalled a detail from the fire last night. He’d come out of the apartment with Mrs. Engle and seen the row of vehicles in the carport across the drive from the lodge, specifically checking to make sure none had been damaged. He’d seen an unfamiliar small dark red SUV among them.
Coincidence? Had to be. But what if it wasn’t?
“Doc, are you there?” Captain Frederick asked.
“Yes, sorry. Jolene did believe the wreck was deliberate?”
“She said it was deliberate, but we all know that woman likes to overdramatize everything.”
“Something just occurred to me, Captain. I may be overreacting here, but it’s possible that Willow Traynor might drive a red Subaru Outback. She looks enough like Jolene in low light that someone could have mistaken Jolene for her. I made that mistake myself.”
“Where is Ms. Traynor right now?”
“I hope she’s safely shopping with my sister, but I think I’ll make sure. Meanwhile, a friend of mine was having a replacement key made for Willow’s car. He had to get the particulars from Preston because I didn’t have them. I wasn’t involved in that conversation.”
“Better keep your friend away from the car. We don’t want to pass up any leads, even if they seem far-fetched. We’ll need to check out that car first.”
“Check it out?”
“What if someone did intentionally run Jolene Tucker off the road because they mistook her car for Ms. Traynor’s? If they were serious enough to do that kind of damage, and if they discovered later that they had the wrong car, they might take it another step and set a booby trap of some kind. Stranger things have been known to happen.”
“I’ll call my friend now. Then I think I’ll take a drive out to the complex.”
“Can you get us the key?” the captain asked. “The officers can jimmy the lock with no problem, but it would be better if we didn’t have to.”
“If we have Willow’s permission, I’ll gladly give the police the key. I’ll just have my friend meet us there.”
“They’ll get her permission before they make any attempts to enter the car, of course. I don’t suppose Ms. Traynor would know about anyone who might have a reason to hurt her, would she?”
Graham thought again about his conversation with Preston. Would she? “It’s possible, Captain.”
“Well, this could be a long shot, but right now we don’t have any other leads on any of the fires that were set last night.”
Graham remembered the other fires that had spread the department so thin last night. “Are you telling me they were all arson?”
“That’s right. All three of them, same M.O., same everything.”
“Was last night the first time this has happened?”
“First I’ve ever seen. How’s Mr. Black doing?”
“He’s in a lot of pain right now.”
“Think he might have made an enemy? Maybe a former renter?”
“We haven’t had any complaints.”
“Well, you just let me know as soon as you find Ms. Traynor, will you?”
Graham
