Out of the Ashes Read online

  Yesterday she’d found the Davies file and read it through. She was anxious to find Lanford Davies and talk to him, but the only address in the file was the house that had been burned down in the arson.

  She could reach out to the probation office to get the address he’d provided them with, but probation officers were sometimes territorial, and it might take a while to find where Mr. Davies was residing and if there were any special probation terms she needed to be aware of. Something it would have been nice to have been notified of. As well, she didn’t want to cause any problems for Mr. Davies, in case he was actually trying to keep clean and out of trouble.

  Balsam Grove was a small town. Sarah would definitely recognize Davies if she saw him again. She’d try the happenstance approach before she went through official channels.

  But she was curious. The case was circumstantial, and she had a strong drive to find the truth, not just what was convenient. Her father had been a detective. He’d raised her on stories of his cases instead of fairy tales. For him there was right and wrong, truth and lies, and he had a passion for justice. She’d always wanted to be the same. She wouldn’t dismiss out of hand the possibility of a false arrest and sentence. There had been no witnesses. But no one else had been found near the scene, and there was no apparent motive.

  She hadn’t had to exercise any detective muscles since she’d arrived here in Balsam Grove. This could be interesting.

  “Festus, we’re going to check out the scene of the crime. This is your chance to awe and amaze me, okay?”

  She needed to get out more. She was spending too much time talking to her deputy.

  “Don’t worry, after eighteen years, it’s unlikely either of us will find any missed clues, but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?”

  Festus curled his tail around his nose, hidden in the passenger footwell.

  “Glad you’ve got it under control.”

  The address wasn’t far out of town. She could have easily walked. Festus? Not so much.

  When her GPS said the destination was on her right, she had two reasons for surprise.

  First, she hadn’t realized that this address was the U-Stor storage facility. It was part of the town landscape now, but apparently it was less than eighteen years old.

  Secondly, the man she’d been hoping to find was standing on the driveway, peering through the fence.

  She pulled her vehicle to the side and braked. She switched off the SUV and paused for a moment, watching the man.

  He shot her a glance, then continued with his own quiet inspection.

  Again, he was in a T-shirt and jeans. He must have walked: there was no other mode of transportation apparent. No sign of a weapon, which would have been a violation of his parole.

  She opened her door and left the vehicle. She crossed to let Festus out, and he slunk to the ground. With a quick glance to make sure Festus wasn’t likely to wander onto the road, she walked over to Mr. Davies.

  “Good morning, Mr. Davies. I’m happy to run into you.”

  He paused for a moment and then turned to face her. “You found me.”

  She nodded at the building behind them. “Did you know your home had been made into a storage facility?”

  He frowned. “No, Sheriff. I didn’t.”

  He gazed at his feet. “Any other questions?”

  She drew in a breath.

  “That may have sounded like I was interrogating you, but it was just nosiness on my part. I can only imagine that coming back to find this, if you didn’t expect it, would be...jarring.”

  His glance came up to meet hers again. Those gray eyes narrowed as he looked at her, perhaps adjusting his opinion. For some reason, she hoped it was changing to something better.

  No, no, no. She was not getting involved here. Not again. She needed to prove that she was more like her father, not her grandfather. She’d walked too close to that line on the last case in Pittsburgh.

  Even with the rough-cut hair and the pale complexion, Lanford Davies was an attractive man.

  She could not afford to lose her objectivity again. Not if she was returning to the city.

  “I wondered what had happened to the place.” He glanced over at the boxy building. “Now I know.”

  She tilted her head, trying to interpret his tone.

  It didn’t have the anger in it that she’d expect of someone thirsting for revenge. There was no greed, since he couldn’t profit from his crime.

  He’d said he was here to prove his innocence. Did he have someone in mind, someone he believed had done this to him? What did he plan to do about it? Even if he only wanted to clear his name, he’d have to take some kind of action.

  And that action could involve her, in her role as sheriff.

  “I looked up your file last night, Mr. Davies.”

  He nodded.

  “I’d like to ask you some questions.”

  She saw his shoulders tighten, his neck brace. She had the authority to force him to come to the station, even if morally she was less complacent. She didn’t want him to talk to her, every word forced out, begrudging and unwilling, simply because she was a cop and he’d been in prison.

  He didn’t have any reason to trust her, just as she didn’t have reason to trust him. However, they could both help each other and possibly circumvent problems if they worked together.

  She just had to convince him of that.

  “I’m the sheriff, but I’m not going to force you to talk to me.

  “You told me you want to prove your innocence. I have an interest in ensuring justice is done. I also have an interest in being aware of what steps you’re taking—in case something blows up, so I don’t have to come into whatever that situation is blind.

  “I can help you look into what happened eighteen years ago. I wasn’t here, and I have limited preconceptions of what happened and who was involved.”

  She checked his expression, but it was just as guarded as it had been yesterday.

  “I don’t know if you’re innocent. But I want to know. I would prefer if you talked to me willingly and gave me some insight into what might be going on in my jurisdiction while you’re here. You can ask me questions, and perhaps we could work together.

  “No pressure. I’m just offering.”

  She stepped away, hands in her back pockets, purposely giving him space.

  And time.

  “Why would you want to upset a conviction that happened eighteen years ago? It’s not going to make you or Sheriff Harding look good. It’s going to be a lot of hassle and paperwork.”

  It would—he was right.

  “Mr. Davies, I came here from Pittsburgh. I had my reasons, but so far this position has been kind of boring. I became a cop because I wanted to be one of the good guys, and to help people who needed justice on their side. I enjoy investigating. I like putting evidence together and making sure the bad guys pay.

  “If you were innocent, then it would be worth any hassle or paperwork in my estimation. That’s how I was raised. And reexamining your case would give me some interesting work to do.”

  He watched her, trying to read beyond her words. She was sincere, but he couldn’t know that. She hoped he’d give her a chance. And that she wasn’t crossing the line that had gotten her into trouble before.

  Sometimes her sense of right and wrong didn’t align with that of her fellow police officers. Her grandfather had crossed that line so badly that the line had been lost, and her father had worked hard to redeem the family reputation. She wanted to make her father proud, and that last case had...

  Well, it had caused a few people to question her motives. She would have to watch that here, as well.

  But underneath, she still wanted to make sure the truth came out.

  He nodded as he came to a conclusion. She wasn’t sure what had inspire
d him to make his decision, but she was sure it was more than the words she’d said.

  “I would be willing to discuss it with you. I’m not making any promises.”

  “I’m not asking you to. Not right now.”

  Depending on what he had in mind, that could change.

  She turned to her car, and he followed her.

  “Want a ride to the station? So we can get started?”

  “I can walk.”

  She took a moment to consider if there was a reason for that, beyond wanting exercise and to enjoy the freedom of going where he wanted after eighteen years locked up.

  “Or you can ride beside me in the passenger seat. I have no intention of putting you in the back, as if I was arresting you.”

  He shot her a glance.

  “Okay.” Again, she had the impression that he was evaluating the situation at a level several steps beyond the superficial conversation they were having.

  “Festus!”

  The dog came around the SUV, spotted Lanford Davies and promptly tried to crawl under the vehicle.

  She could extrapolate from the dog’s actions that he’d found the man beside her lacking. That he had some special dog sense that could detect flaws in human character. But for the first week she’d been in town, Festus had reacted the same way to her. He was no lodestar, divining between good and evil.

  “That’s your dog?”

  “He’s part of the sheriff’s department.”

  Mr. Davies snorted in disbelief.

  “Tell me about it.” She got down on her knees to coax the dog out.

  * * *

  Lanford wasn’t sure what to make of this sheriff.

  He was skeptical of the police after what he’d been through. When they’d arrested him, he’d told everyone that he was innocent, but no one had been willing to listen. He’d been the easy solution to the problem of who had set fire to his house.

  In prison, he’d heard stories from men who’d had difficult interactions with the police. Men who’d been sent back to prison after getting out and dealing with the stigma of having a record. It made them immediately suspect.

  If he hadn’t been determined to stay out of prison and avoid any difficult interactions with local law enforcement in Balsam Grove, he’d have stayed as far away from the sheriff’s office as possible.

  It had been a relief to find someone new behind the desk. At least she wouldn’t have memories of him telling her off when he was a mouthy kid. He’d never given her the finger or told her where to go. But she was still a cop, and there was a big gap between her and an ex-con. He wasn’t naive now. She might only be pretending to want to help. He’d experienced the other side of law enforcement. Caution was required.

  She hadn’t immediately accepted his story, which would have been suspicious in any case. But she was allowing for the possibility that he was innocent. Maybe.

  She wanted to know what he was doing.

  He couldn’t suspect she was in collusion with the real arsonist because he had no idea who that was, and she wouldn’t know him or her. Her reason for wanting to be involved made sense. If she was truly willing to assist him in finding the truth, it would be a lot of help. As long as she did want to uncover the truth and wasn’t just saying that to be in a position to cover it up later.

  He’d never ridden in the front seat of a police car. It was much better than the rear seat. In his recollection, that had been smelly, claustrophobic, and his sorrow and shock had seeped into the memories in his mind.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the supposed police dog. The dog was cowering in the far corner of the back seat, but somehow still giving him the stink eye.

  What in the world was she doing with a dog like that?

  She and Lanford didn’t speak on the way to the sheriff’s department. Lanford was considering and reconsidering his decision to share with her. She appeared lost in her own thoughts, as well.

  When they pulled in behind the station, he got out of the SUV and waited for her to exit. It took a few moments to persuade Festus out of the back seat. Lanford had no idea how such a fearful animal was claimed by the law office.

  The sheriff didn’t seem to be that fond of him, either, which made it more of a puzzle. But not his. He had enough to figure out already.

  She opened the door, and Festus fled into the interior. Lanford followed her into the building. She flipped on the lights and unlocked the front door. He stood, unsure of where to go while she checked for voice mails.

  There were none.

  The sheriff picked up a thick file. His name was on it. She crossed to a small table and pulled out a chair.

  “I thought we could work through the case here.”

  He nodded and crossed to the seat opposite her, pulling it out and sitting down. This wasn’t a commitment. He could still decide how much he was willing to tell her.

  She had a pad of paper and a pen. He had nothing. His notebook was still at the apartment.

  “What’s your plan?” she asked, without any expression of skepticism. “Who do you think set you up?”

  Lanford shook his head. “I have no idea.”

  She considered for a moment.

  “You have someplace you want to start?”

  He nodded.

  The sheriff waited, letting him decide what he wanted to share with her.

  He took a breath. He’d prayed about this. She wasn’t raising any red flags. What he had to share wasn’t a secret.

  “There’s an expression, follow the money. That’s where I’m starting.”

  She frowned. “I read your file. I didn’t find any indications of much financial gain from what happened.”

  He clenched his fists. He wasn’t explaining this properly.

  “Not actual money. But what happened, what the results were.”

  Her eyes widened as she understood his point. “Explore the consequences and find out who benefited.”

  “Yes.”

  She started to write on her pad of paper, but then paused.

  “What are those consequences?”

  Lanford brought his list to mind.

  “My dad died.” He stopped short. He couldn’t force words out through his throat, which had closed up.

  The pain still survived from that horrible night. After eighteen years, he’d come to terms with it. It didn’t normally gut him. But sometimes it stabbed through him as if he’d received the news fresh. His dad was dead. He hadn’t spread the gas or lit the match, but he was afraid he was responsible just the same.

  She wrote something down.

  “Who benefited from that?”

  “I don’t know.” If he did, he would have names to explore.

  She tilted her head, questioning him. “Then what can you do?”

  “I’m going to talk to the company he worked for.”

  “He was a long-distance trucker, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  The sheriff tapped her pen. “What about his personal life?”

  “None.”

  She leaned back in her chair.

  “As a teenager, you might not have been aware of things that went on in your father’s personal life.”

  He half smiled. “I understand what you’re implying. I’m not naive. Not anymore.”

  Eighteen years in prison was a crash course in learning what people were capable of.

  “My mother died of cancer, and my dad was devastated. He had no personal life. He worked, and he took care of us. That was it.”

  He could see the skepticism on her face. That wasn’t her decision, though. This was his investigation. He didn’t need to work with her.

  “I’m not going to waste time looking into nothing.”

  She made another note. Maybe she wanted to ask around about his
dad’s personal life. She was welcome to. She wouldn’t find anything.

  “Is there any chance he might have been hauling something illegal or dangerous?”

  “Not that he would have done knowingly.”

  Lanford had no doubts about that. He wasn’t going to waste his efforts on that, either.

  “Then why would anyone wish him harm?”

  “Someone might have wanted his job, his routes.” It was the only thing he’d come up with after mulling it over for years.

  She exhaled. “Okay. What else happened?”

  “Dan died.”

  Her forehead creased. “Oh, you mean Riordan. Your brother.”

  He nodded. He hadn’t been able to say Riordan when he was little, so they’d been known as Dan and Lan.

  “What were the consequences of that?”

  “Dan had a scholarship, for track. Maybe another kid or his family wanted it.”

  Lanford didn’t know much about his brother’s life at school. Dan was a straight-arrow kind of guy, so it was hard to imagine he’d gotten into anything that would endanger his life, or that of the rest of his family, but again, there were limited trails to follow.

  She was writing again.

  “Penn State, right?”

  He nodded again. It had been a big day at their home when Dan got that news.

  “I worked with someone, in the city. He must have been at Penn about that time. He was a football player. I’ll ask him to check into the athletic department, see if there was anything talked about concerning your brother.”

  Lanford thought he had a good chance at getting his dad’s former boss to speak with him. When he was a kid, he’d met the man at company events. But the university? He had no idea how to explore that.

  This sheriff might be a help. If he could trust her. If she wasn’t doing this to cut off any chance he had of getting the information he was searching for.

  Was there any reason not to let her speak to her coworker about Dan?

  He studied her face, doing his best to read her expression and understand what she wanted out of this. All he could find was intelligence and concern.