Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“This is absurd,” I said. “I didn’t set that fire, and if I did, I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to leave gas cans right behind my car.”
“You would if you didn’t think you were going to get caught,” Jim said. “Bad move, locking yourself inside.”
“I didn’t lock myself inside,” I said, trying to control the temper that wanted to fill the space left behind by adrenaline. I needed a shower. To see a doctor about the raw scrape of every breath I took. Instead, I was cuffed and locked in the back of a police cruiser.
Jim let out a sigh and met my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Avery, I’m not in the habit of helping arsonists. But since I know our chief has a soft spot for you and your brother’s a good guy, I’m going to tell you this: keep your mouth shut. We have you at the scene of a reported arson with three empty cans of gas next to your car, and you were the only person on the property. It doesn’t look great. If you’re innocent, you’re going to have to hope someone can sort it out for you. But right now, every word you say can only make things worse. Do us both a favor and shut up.”
I nodded, in shock, but with it enough to listen. He made a good point. I wasn’t an arsonist. I also wasn’t a lawyer. Or a cop. If I knew the right thing to say to get these cuffs off my wrists, I’d say it. But I didn’t. All I could do was wait for my phone call or for someone to tell West I’d been arrested.
And then I remembered what happened when my father died. Someone had seen Ford driving away from Heartstone Manor, in a rush, looking angry. They’d found his shoe prints outside the window and the murder weapon in his closet. That was enough. He’d spent a year in prison because even with that shitty evidence, he hadn’t been able to prove that he didn’t do it.
Just like I couldn’t prove I hadn’t set the fire.
Fuck. My gut turned cold, and my heart raced. Ten minutes before, I’d been hoping I didn’t die in the fire. Now, I wasn’t that much better off. I was alive, and that was something. I’d take it. But someone had set me up for arson. And the last time that happened to my family, the victim had gone to prison. Ford only got back out because whoever set him up wanted him somewhere he was easier to kill. That was our best guess, at least. So, what did that mean for me?
I gritted my teeth and let out a long breath. I hated being helpless. I hated not being able to solve my own problems. And here I was, in the back of a police cruiser, my hands cuffed, and there wasn’t a goddamn thing I could do about it. Not yet.
The police station wasn’t a long ride. Jim led me into the building, one hand tight on my arm. Did he think I was going to run? Booking went by in a blur—the mug shot, the fingerprints—and then the cuffs came off, and I was shoved into a holding cell. The Sawyers Bend Police Station only had a few cells. Today, they were all empty, except for one on the end that had a big guy snoring on a bench, probably picked up the night before for being drunk and disorderly.
I sat, braced my arms on my knees, and prepared to wait for rescue.
Chapter Twenty-Three
WEST
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I demanded into my phone. It was the only thing I could think of to say. Jim had arrested Avery for arson? “Back up and tell me again what happened.”
Jim went through it a second time. The call to emergency services reporting a trespasser at Wild Haven Brewing, someone claiming they’d seen a tall woman with dark hair carrying gas cans inside. A second call reporting flames at the back of the brewery. Jim had arrived along with the firefighters to see smoke pouring from the building. Then Avery exploded out of the door. He said it looked like she’d used a metal stool to break her way out. They’d already seen gas cans by her car.
There wasn’t a world where I could picture Avery doing something like this. But the evidence was damning all around.
Whatever had happened, Avery was in the thick of it.
I drove by the scene. The cans had been taken into evidence already, and it looked like they had the fire under control. It had been dry the past few weeks, and there were dead leaves everywhere. It was just good luck that the wind had been quiet enough not to spread embers. As it was, the fire crew had been busy beating down the flames that had popped up in the grasses around the brewery.