Once back at the station, Jinks made a beeline for the breakroom hoping to get fresh coffee before the pot was left on too long and turned to sludge. Despite the fact Adam didn’t really want any more coffee, he wished he’d gone with Jinks when he bumped into Sergeant Moody . . . again. If Adam didn’t know better, he’d think the guy was angling for a fight and made it a point to seek out Adam for these “chance” encounters.
Moody sneered at him, “I hear you’re stumped by those arson cases, Dutton. Beyond your skills, I’d say.”
Adam groaned inwardly. “Not now, Moody. I don’t have time for games.”
The other man stared at him for a moment and then gave him an odd look. “Heard you were looking into Ivon Kozak as a suspect.”
Adam stood very still. He hadn’t told anyone inside the department about Kozak except for Jinks and the chief. And he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt neither one of them would have leaked that bit of intel.
Adam didn’t have time to reply before Moody quickly changed the subject, crowing, “I hear I’m a shoo-in for detective real soon. Better watch your back, Dutton.”
He aimed a triumphant sneer at Adam and headed down the hall, crossing paths with Jinks, who was walking in Adam’s direction. When she’d made sure Moody was out of earshot, she told Adam in a low voice, “On my way to the breakroom, I caught Moody in your office. He was rifling through papers on your desk. Tried to look into your computer, too.”
“Did he see you?”
“I scared him by breezing in there. He had some lame excuse about you having a report ready for him. That he was just there to pick it up and save you some time.” She rolled her eyes. “As if. I’ve got kids. My lie detector gets tons of practice.”
Adam grumbled, “Glad I wasn’t the one to catch Moody. I might be out of a job after I decked him.”
The chief’s administrative assistant, Cherry Steele, appeared around the corner just then. “There you are. Chief Quinn wants to see the two of you.”
Adam said, “Did he say what it was about?”
“No, but he seems really wired. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’d snuck some caffeinated coffee.”
Adam and Jinks made their way to the chief’s office and “assumed the position,” as Adam called it, he in the right-hand chair and Jinks in the left. He used to tease her about always choosing the one closest to the door and escape.
Quinn wasn’t in the worst of moods, thankfully, but he wasn’t exactly dancing a jig. Cherry was right about being wired—the chief kept cracking his knuckles and wiggling in his chair. “Just wanted to get an update on your progress with the arsons.”
Adam said, “We’re still looking into insurance fraud, but my money’s on Kozak or Redbeard. Finding the tie is going to be hard unless we locate Redbeard and get him to confess.”
Quinn picked up a stack of papers and dropped them back on the desk. “Just got a copy of the forensic reports so far.”
Jinks caught Adam’s eye and winked. They knew how much Quinn hated looking at computer screens and always wanted the printed version. Quinn asked, “Did Joe Brimm brief you yet?”
Adam nodded. “He’s been working with ATF on the pipe bomb and arsons, particularly the type of materials used. As far as my house bombing, definitely a pipe bomb made of copper tubing and explosive powder. Maybe fireworks powder. They think the device was likely around six inches long and an inch in diameter. Typical size. Plugged ends and a green fuse.”
“Is that related to the arsons?”
“With the incendiary device at Annika Grimes’s store, yes. So it’s looking like those two incidents are related. We may yet find details linking the other arsons.”
“What about a copycat?”
“Wouldn’t make much sense, given the details have been kept out of the papers.”
Quinn dialed a number on his intercom and asked for Joe Brimm to join them in the office. The bespectacled Brimm was still wearing his white lab coat when he strolled into the room. “Hey, Quinn,” he said.
Adam shook his head at that. Brimm was one of the few who could be that familiar with Quinn and not get his ear chewed off for it. Brimm asked, “What’s up?”
“I was just talking to Dutton and Jinks here about your work into Adam’s pipe bomb and the recent arsons.”
“The new ones or the older ones?”
The chief blinked at him. “What?”
Adam explained, “We just found out last evening about two more antiques stores that burned earlier this year.”
Brimm added helpfully, “It’s in your report.”
The chief grumbled, “Probably on the bottom. Haven’t got that far yet.”
Adam continued, “They were in farther parts of the state. At first, they were deemed accidental, so they didn’t land on our radar until now.”
“But they’re no longer ‘accidental,’ I take it?”
“No, sir.”
Adam gestured toward Brimm, who said, “We used gas chromatography-mass spectrometry to create a chromatogram of Jared Lake’s arson. Several details matched up with the others. Kerosene was the accelerant with added fireworks powder. Designed to spread fast along the underside of a ceiling. Started on a wall adjacent to the most flammable wall and added in some tinder around. Multiple ignition points. A fire-spreading trailer from one outlet to another. Very professional.”
“In your expert opinion, the attack on Adam’s house and all the arsons are likely related?”
“I think the operative word is likely. Ironclad proof, not so much.”
Quinn grunted. “Still, good work, Brimm.”
As the forensic tech ducked out of the room, Adam said to Quinn, “Did you know Sergeant Moody has an explosives background from his military days?”
“I was aware of his Army stint. But no, I hadn’t heard about that particular unit. How long have you known about this, Dutton?”
Adam cleared his throat. “I found out after the bombing on my house.”
Quinn glared at him. “And didn’t tell me until now?” Then, he sighed. “Hell. I understand you’ve been put in the middle, thanks to Moody, Lehmann, and their grudges.”
“I had no proof—and still don’t—Moody was behind the attack on me. And you’re right. I was afraid it would look like sour grapes.” Adam rubbed his eyes. “What do you want me to do about this, sir?”
“Keep your distance as much as possible, both of you. Be professional when required, and let me do some discreet inquiring myself.”
“Inquiries, sir?”
“This matter has to be handled delicately due to potential political and financial repercussions. As a matter of fact, we shouldn’t even be having this discussion. But I want to reiterate that I’d hate to lose two of the best detectives this department has ever had.”
Jinks spoke up, “Thank you for that, sir.”
“Moody may be a dirty cop. If so, one way or the other, I’ll find that out.” Chief Quinn’s expression darkened. “But if it’s true, he’s a well-connected dirty cop. Making this a far more delicate problem than it would be, otherwise.”
Quinn stabbed the stack of papers with a pencil, make a hole through the center. “Getting back to the arsons, what else you got?”
Adam replied, “We’re having problems getting in touch with Belle Lake. I want to see whether Kozak tried to buy her brother’s antiques store like Annika Grimes and Justin Garone. It would be too coincidental if all three had the same offers and refused right before their businesses burned to the ground. And we’ll have to contact the owners of the two older arsons.”
Quinn nodded. “No luck tracking down Redbeard?”
“The local PD around Stowe are on the lookout. We couldn’t get the state police to send up one of their recon drones.”
“They’re pretty squirrelly about using those.”
Jinks piped up, “Might not matter. A fugitive might see them and be able to hide in time, anyway.”
The chief leaned forward over his desk and scanned the top of the paper stack. “Are you keeping the state BCI detectives apprised of your progress?”
Adam answered in the affirmative. “But if we don’t get something to break soon, they may want to start poking their noses around. And you know how we love being busted down to ‘assistant.’”
Jinks added, “Had some luck getting Jared Lake’s bank records via subpoena. To dig into that sudden infusion of funds.”
“What did you find out?”
“All cash, no checks or money transfers.”
“How much cash?”
“Oh, just some little mad money. To the tune of a hundred thousand dollars.”
Quinn whistled. “Mad money, indeed.”
“The credit card companies came through, too. All his debts had been paid off recently.”
“You don’t say. Sounds like Jared Lake took some tantalizing secrets to his grave. But it just so happens we’re in the business of uncovering secrets, so—”
“We’re on it, sir.” Jinks smiled.
Once the chief dismissed them, they headed back to Adam’s office, where Jinks brought him up to date on her pharmacy robbery case. “We had a break, lucky for us, so that’s one case looking like it’s close to being solved.”
“What happened?”
“The poor schlub wanted to get his hands on some opioids. But what he didn’t realize was you have to go through the Seven Circles of Hell to get to them these days. What with all the high-tech security.”
“Pharmacies are becoming more like bank vaults.”
“You’ll have to give a kidney and your first-born just to get some Tylenol.”
Adam grinned. “Jacob?”
“He was a pill this morning, so handing him over sounds good right now. But ask me later when he’s all sweet and innocent again.”
Jinks leaned against the wall. “Felicia ran into Beverly Laborde the other day.”
“Where?”
“Miralee’s. Felicia liked her. Even invited her to our Christmas party. You know you’re welcome, as always. Felicia’s going to make her famous Pork Wellington with Prosciutto and Spinach-Mushroom Stuffing.”
Adam looked at her askance. “Are you going to cook, too?” Jinks’s lack of cooking skills were legendary in the department. No one ever asked her to make anything for the company picnics anymore.
“You’re in luck. I’m in charge of the drinks. Pomegranate Cosmos with orange liqueur and extra vodka.”
“Sounds good.” Then Adam started salivating. “Is Felicia making those Cranberry Brie Bites again?”
“If it’ll get you to come, it’s on the menu. One day, you’re going to have to unleash your amazing gourmet self again and host the Christmas dinner.”
“You remember what happened last time I tried.”
“We got a call right in the middle of it.”
“Exactly. Cooking is best left to civilians, especially when there are kids involved. Don’t want to ruin their holiday fun.”
“Well then, you can bring the dessert.”
He grinned, “I have a great recipe for Christmas Bombe. Spiced cake and chocolate-brandy glaze with sparklers on top.”
She snorted at that. “Maybe you’re the real arsonist.”