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I TURNED TO ALEX AS we pulled into her driveway. Her eyes were across the grass, toward the spot behind the shrubs where we’d found her neighbor’s dog.
“I can’t get the image out of my head.” She looked straight ahead then closed her eyes as I turned off the engine. “I don’t want to ever say I’m glad it wasn’t Raz. I mean, of course I am. But, I guess...it doesn’t feel right even thinking that. Poor Kaiyuh.”
We both sat still for a moment.
I said, “It’s okay to be happy it wasn’t Raz. It doesn’t mean you’re happy that it happened. But...” I paused a moment, not sure what I was trying to say to her was helpful. “I guess I know what you’re trying to say.”
Alex glanced at me and pushed out a slight smile. “Poor Mr. Gleason. He loved that dog.”
We both stepped out of her Jeep and I noticed the hair on the back of Alex’s head had already started to grow back.
Raz jumped down behind us and ran across the lawn to where Kaiyuh had been. He sniffed around until Alex called for him. “Come on Raz.” She slapped her hand on her thigh. “You don’t need to be over there.”
Alex slid the key in the door and pushed it open.
We both stepped inside and Alex turned to me. “It’s fine.”
I shoved my way past her and looked around the corner into the kitchen. It was quiet and everything seemed to be in its place.
She pulled her Glock from her holster and headed up the stairs. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”
I stepped toward the stairs and looked up at her. “You sure you’re okay?”
She turned to me and nodded, held up her Glock. “I’ll be honest, I’m itching to use this on someone.”
I walked into the room with the TV, still up on the wall with the shattered screen. I turned and yelled up the stairs to Alex. “Do you mind if I jump on your computer?”
She stuck her head out from her room, her bare shoulder barely hidden behind the door. “Go ahead. I’ll be down in five minutes.” She closed the door as I stood, looking up.
I yelled out for her again. “Alex?”
She again stuck her head outside her room. “Yes?”
“You sure everything’s okay?”
She nodded and gave me a genuine smile. “All good.”
I sat down at her desk and turned on her computer. The first thing I searched for was Roy Mason. And the search results were filled with articles about him and the various businesses he owned. His parent company, as I discovered, was called Mason Industries. He’d been the developer in a number of properties around Jacksonville, some on Amelia Island, and a handful in other areas of the northeastern part of the state. Most of his work, outside of a couple of residential developments, seemed to be commercial, including a couple of golf courses.
I was on the third page of search results when an article caught my eye. There’d been a fire nearly seven years ago that took down a condominium development. And it turns out it was Roy’s development, and almost put Roy out of business.
But it wasn’t developed under Mason Industries. It was called The RJM Corporation. His wife, Joanna, was involved in it at the time, which is where I guessed the ‘J’ came from in the name. The company had since been dissolved.
I turned from the desk as Alex came down the stairs and stood behind me. She wiped her wet hair with a towel then turned and pointed to the back of her head. She smiled. “I’m not supposed to get it wet...but look! My bald spot’s filling in.”
“I noticed earlier.” And then for some reason I wanted to make her feel even better. I said, “You can hardly see the wound.”
She gave me a look and rolled her eyes.
I pointed to the screen. “Look at this.”
She leaned over me with her arms resting on the back of the chair.
I said, “Roy Mason developed these condominiums out route 10, west of the city, about seven years ago. Whole thing burned down overnight, while it was still under construction.”
“That’s way out there. Does it say what happened?”
“It was under investigation for arson at the time. But this article’s a few years old.”
Alex said, “If it’s the part of town I’m thinking it is, it never turned into what they’d hoped. He was probably better off with insurance money.”
We both looked at each other, as if Alex had just hit the nail on the head.
I said, “Don’t you think Angela would’ve mentioned something about this?”
Alex shrugged. “Didn’t she say Eric was involved with Roy’s account at one time?”
I thought for a moment as I stared at the article on the computer.
Alex turned and walked into the kitchen.
I followed behind her and said, “Would it be crazy if I talked to Roy? Maybe there’s nothing to it, but...”
“You really think he’s going to tell you anything at this point?”
“What about Chris?” I said. “No word from him on Theresa?”
Alex shook her head. “He’s trying to be cool about it. He doesn’t want to just start asking around the office.”
I looked out the window toward her yard. “What about the officer who wrote up the report?”
Alex shrugged. “Chris said he retired...not long after the initial investigation. In fact he was young at the time...only thirty-five.”
“Did he say if he’s still a cop? Maybe in another jurisdiction?”
“We didn’t get into it that much.” Alex walked out of the kitchen and came back with the manilla folder in her hand. It was Theresa Thompson’s police report. She had her eyes down, then looked up at me. “Here it is. Officer Paul Krueger.”