“Just about.”
“No wonder, seeing as the shelter burned.”
The nightmare had come again last night, waking her at two in the morning. Her gown had soaked through to her sheets so she’d had to lay bath towels on the sheets so she could go back to sleep. Only, she’d not slept well at all. “I guess.”
King kept a modest two-bedroom apartment over the restaurant. When he’d first offered her the room on the top floor her radar had gone on full alert. No one gave anything away for free. Everything in life came with a catch. She’d agreed, but the first week she had pushed a dresser in front of her door. But once he retired for the night and she heard no sounds coming from his apartment she had stopped moving the dresser.
“Me, I’m in a coma when my head hits the pillow, unless you’re rearranging the furniture. Or Bobby is thundering about the house scrounging for food.” He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it aside. “So what was he doing in the alleyway?”
“You heard that?”
“Hard to miss. I was on my way down when I heard you arrive. Sounded like you had things under control.”
“For the most part.” She shoved her hands in her pockets. Eva motioned to the potatoes. “That all you bought?”
“Naw, I got a few more bushels. But I’m having them delivered. New farmer at the market and he’s trying to beat out the competition. So he’s offering to deliver.”
“Great. When will he be here?” She cradled her cup in her hands and took a sip.
“By ten.”
“Hey, I’ve got a bit of news.”
King shoved out a breath. “What?”
“Don’t look at me like I’ve blown something up.”
He arched a brow. “Did you?”
“No. Bobby found a kitten.”
“A what?”
“A kitten. He was outside feeding it.”
King rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “And I take it you let him keep it.”
“First, he’s going to need help catching it. The thing is living in the alley. ”
Again he rubbed the back of his neck with the back of his hand. “What the hell am I going to do with a wild cat?”
“Look at it this way. Bobby is just acting like you.”
“What’s that mean?”
“He’s taking care of strays. He’s turning into a chip off the old block.”
Color rose in King’s face. “You are buttering me up now.”
She grinned. “As fast as I can.”
“Damn it, Eva.”
“I’ll do all the invoices for the next three months if you let him keep the cat.”
King grinned. “You’re starting to like the kid.”
“I didn’t say that,” she grumbled. “I’m offering a hand.”
He sighed. “Fine. The cat can stay. Provided we can catch it. ”
She kissed him on the cheek. “You know you are the best.”
A faint hint of pink colored his cheeks. “I got to get Bobby up and ready for school. He’s got a spelling test today.”
She studied him and not for the first time wondered what made him tick. “Why did you do it? Why help me and the kid?”
“Why not? We all get into jams now and then.”
“Very few people go out of their way like you, King. ”
“I’m just a hell of a nice guy,” he grumbled. “Now leave it at that.” The hard lines of King’s face eased. “What do you have planned today?”
She understood a “back off” when she heard one. “I want to go back to the shelter.”
“Why?”
“I want to know what happened.” The cops would still be crawling all over the place, but after a restless night of dreams that reminded her of a time when she’d been so helpless, she felt compelled to return.
“Do they know who set the fire?” King had been more like a father to her in the last six months than her own father had been.
“I don’t think so, but I want to find out.”
“You be careful. You got a record and it ain’t smart for ex-cons to be so
close to a crime scene.”
She could have told him how she’d hidden out in the woods last night, almost too afraid to think. She opted to keep that to herself. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Chapter 5
Tuesday, April 4, 8:00 A.M.
A patrol car followed a beat-up Gran Torino station wagon into the shelter’s cul-de-sac and parked next to Garrison’s car. A tall, broad-shouldered woman got out of the station wagon and surveyed the damage. In her early fifties, the woman wore faded jeans, a HANNA HOUSE sweatshirt and tennis shoes. Black tendrils of curly hair escaped a topknot and framed high cheekbones and sharp gray eyes edged by deep lines.
She wrapped her arms around her chest. “Oh my God. Oh my God.” Tears rolled down her freckled cheeks.
Garrison moved toward her. “Ms. Sally Walton?”
“Yes.” Her voice trembled as she shook her head and stared at the charred remains.
Garrison shook her hand, noting tension had flattened her lips. “I’m Detective Deacon Garrison, Alexandria City Police Department, and this is my partner, Detective Malcolm Kier.”
Malcolm stuck out his hand. “I sent the car for you so you wouldn’t have to drive.”
Silver bracelets jangled as Sally shook his hand. “I wanted to drive my own car, so the officer followed me.” She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m always getting calls on my night off. Most of them were nuisance calls, so lately, I’ve turned off my cell phone.”
“Understandable,” Garrison said. “Where were you last night?”
“My boyfriend’s. His name is Charlie Jones. He works in a garage in Arlington. You want his number?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m going to need to verify where you were.”
She dug a pad and pencil from her purse and scribbled names and numbers on it. “Well, the sooner you can figure out I didn’t do it, the faster you can find who did.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He studied her elegant handwriting. “Can you tell us who stayed in the house?”
“I think so.” Sally had a rough, jagged tone to her voice that suggested a life of heavy cigarette smoking.