The smoke seemed to be coming from the back of the house. The man had come in the back door. Lorelei knew who the man was, knew what he’d done and why. But as she made a quick turn and swung down the alley, she was surprised to see him jump into his large dark-colored SUV. She sped toward him as he ducked behind the wheel and took off in a hail of gravel. But not before she’d seen his license plate number. The senator had vanity plates.
She hit her brakes behind the house and bailed out of her vehicle. She could see smoke rolling out of the open back door. She was running toward the house when James came running around the side of the house toward her.
“My stepmother’s inside,” she screamed over the crackle of the blaze. “The senator was here. I heard him attack her, then set the house on fire.” She could see flames rising at the kitchen windows.
“Stay here,” James ordered as he pulled off his jean jacket, and putting it over his head ran into the open back door and into the smoke and flames.
Lorelei stood there, feeling helpless. She could hear sirens growing closer. The fire trucks would be here soon. But soon enough? She wanted to race into the house through the smoke and flames and find James, find Karen. She felt her panic building. James was here because of her. He couldn’t die because of her.
She began to cry tears of relief as she saw him come out of the smoke carrying Karen. She ran to him as the first of the fire trucks pulled up out front along with an ambulance and the sheriff.
“She’s unconscious,” James said, coughing. “But since she was on the floor, I don’t think she breathed in much smoke.”
Lorelei wiped at her tears as she ran to keep up with him as he carried Karen toward the waiting ambulance. James had risked his life to save her stepmother. She loved this man. The thought whizzed through her mind as they reached the sidewalk and were immediately surrounded by frantic activity as James handed over Karen and the EMTs went to work on her.
“Want to tell me what’s going on here?” the sheriff asked as he sauntered up to Lorelei.
“My stepmother was attacked and left in a burning house to die,” she snapped. “That’s what happened. I saw the man who assaulted her and started the fire. I was on the phone with her when he attacked her. I was only a block away so I saw him running away as I drove up. I took down his license number. But I also saw his face. It was Senator Fred Bayard.”
Carl started to argue that she had to be mistaken. “Fred is a godsend to this community. Without him and the donations he’d made—”
Karen, now conscious, pulled off her oxygen mask. She narrowed her gaze on the sheriff, stopping the EMTs from loading her gurney into the back of the ambulance.
“Senator Fred Bayard tried to kill me and then he set my house on fire,” her stepmother said through coughing fits. “He also killed Billy Sherman. I know because I was in the car with him. He didn’t stop to see what he’d run over. He just kept going. He would have killed me too.”
The EMTs got the oxygen back on Karen as she gasped for breath.
“If you don’t arrest the senator,” Lorelei said, turning to the sheriff, “I will call the FBI and tell them that you refused to pick up the man who assaulted my stepmother, started the fire and left her to die. I don’t think you want them looking into the other things you and your brother have done over the years to cover up crimes in Lonesome.”
The EMTs loaded Karen into the ambulance. “I have to get to the hospital,” she said and pushed past the sheriff.
“I’ll take you,” James said, suddenly at her side. He put his arm around her as they hurried to his pickup. She leaned into him, for once happy to have someone to lean on.
As she climbed in and he slid behind the wheel, she told him what her stepmother had told her on the phone before she’d heard Karen being attacked.
“When I drove up, I saw him running from the back of the house,” she said. “He tried to kill my stepmother to cover up his crime.” She fought tears, fearing that Fred would get away with it. The sheriff certainly didn’t have the guts to arrest him.
SHERIFF CARL OSTERMAN swore as he watched the ambulance leave, siren blaring and lights flashing. James Colt and Lorelei Wilkins took off behind it. When had those two become so tight, he wondered. He’d thought Lorelei had more sense. Shaking his head, he watched the firefighters trying to put out the blaze and then sighing, climbed into his patrol SUV and headed out to the senator’s place.
He knew how this was going to go down so he was in no hurry. It would come down to the senator’s word against the woman he’d just broken up with and Lorelei, a younger woman protecting her stepmother. Not the best witnesses especially if all this had been caused by a domestic disagreement between the senator and Karen Wilkins. He certainly didn’t want to take the word of a hysterical woman.
As he pulled up in the yard in front of the large summer house, he slowly got out. He wasn’t surprised when Fred came out carrying a small suitcase and walked toward his helipad next to the house in a clearing in the pines.
Carl followed him. “If you have a minute, Fred?”
“Sheriff, good to see you. Actually, I don’t. Something’s come up. My chopper should be here any minute. I need to get to the airport. Government business.”
The senator smelled as if he’d taken a quick shower, so quick that there was still that faint hint of smoke on him. “We have a problem,” Carl said.
Fred smiled. “I’m sure it’s nothing that you can’t handle, Sheriff. It’s one of the reasons I backed your campaign. Please don’t tell me I supported the wrong man.”
He could hear the sound of the helicopter in the distance. “You did back the right man,” Carl said, bristling. “But money can only buy so much. This time I’m going to have to take you in for questioning, Fred. Lorelei Wilkins saw you leaving her stepmother’s house. You stepped over a line. What you did can’t be undone.”
The senator shook his head. “I was at her house. I’m not sure what happened after I left, but I had just broken up with her stepmother. Karen was overwrought, threatening to kill herself. Of course Lorelei is going to blame me if the woman did something...stupid.”
“It’s more serious than that, I’m afraid, Fred. Karen regained consciousness. She says you assaulted her and set her house on fire. Lorelei was on a phone call with her stepmother and heard it all. Karen also says that you killed Billy Sherman—that she was in the car that night and will testify in court that you didn’t even stop.”
“She’s lying. I told you. I broke it off. She’d say anything to get back at me.” The helicopter came into view.
Carl pulled out his handcuffs. A part of him had known that this day was coming and had been for years. Fred had gotten away with numerous crimes over the years since he was a boy. Back then he’d been a juvenile, his father a respected senator, his grandparents churchgoing people. But now that the man’s house of cards had started to tumble, the sheriff suspected a lot more was about to come out.
Worse, Carl knew that he and Otis would be caught in the dirt once it started flying. He laid his hand on his weapon and slowly unsnapped the holster. Fred saw the movement, his eyes widening. The senator had to know that there was an easy way out of this for Carl, for his brother. If Fred were dead there would never be a trial, a lot of old cases wouldn’t come to light.
“I hope you’ll come peacefully, senator,” Carl said. “But either way, you’re going to have to come down to the station for questioning.” He met the man’s gaze and held it for a long moment.
Fred swore. “All the things I’ve done for your two-bit town.” He angrily pulled out his phone and called his attorney.
“I’ll tell the helicopter pilot that you won’t be going anywhere for a while,” Carl said, then turned back to the senator. “By the way, I heard from Gilbert Sanders, the state arson investigator, earlier today. He told me that he’s reopening the Del Colt fire case. He thinks he has some new evidence.” He watched Fred’s spray-on-tanned face pale. “He was especially interested in talking to you.”
“The statute of limitations on arson is five years.”
“I guess you forgot. Del’s first wife died in that fire. There is no statute of limitations on murder.”