Part 9 (1/2)
”I haven't seen him yet today. Makes a nice change.”
”Before the fire, Binder told me he didn't think the murder had anything to do with Morrow Island. He thought the body was put at Windsholme to upset the bride.”
”Upset? More like terrorize. But that's good news. I mean for you. Not for her.”
”For you, too. Why would you want to hurt a woman you never met? Anyway, with the fire, I'm afraid Binder may be back to thinking Wilson's death has something to do with the island.” Talking about the fire reminded me about the cleaned-up playhouse, which reminded me, I wanted to ask Chris- ”Julia Snowden!” Gus shouted, his usual method for letting people know their food was ready. As I walked into the front room to retrieve my lunch, I saw a car pull up behind Chris's cab. An official Maine state police car. Binder and Flynn. What are they doing here? If ever I wanted Gus to invoke his ”no strangers” rule, it was right then.
Binder and Flynn made their way down the steps and came through the door.
”Christopher Durand,” Flynn yelled.
The few other diners in the booths looked around.
”Here.” Chris jumped up from our booth.
”We've got a warrant to search your vehicle.”
”Sure.” Chris fished in his pocket for his keys.
”Let me open it for you.”
”Not here,” Flynn said. ”State lab. We want to search it micro-scop-ickly.”
”Oh.” Chris looked confused. ”You want me to drive it there?”
”No. We've got a tow truck coming.”
”Sure.” Chris stood tall, but the color had drained from behind his tanned face and his hand shook ever so slightly as he gave Flynn his car key.
I could tell by the flicker of his eyelash that Binder hadn't missed the slight tremor, either. I realized both my hands were clenched at my sides. So unfair. First they'd taken away my livelihood by closing down the clambake. Now they were taking Chris's by impounding his cab.
Chapter 25.
A tow truck came and took Chris's cab away. Binder and Flynn said they'd drop Chris at the parking spot where he kept the pickup he used for his landscaping business. When they left, I felt a little dizzy. Chris had nothing to do with the fire at Windsholme. He had no reason to want to upset Michaela. He didn't fit into either theory of the case Binder had said they were pursuing. Why would they take his cab?
I wanted to call out to Chris to get a lawyer, but I didn't want to say anything in front of Binder and Flynn. Besides Chris was a grown-up. He'd know what to do.
Gus cleared his throat and I looked over at the counter where my clam roll and fries sat in their cheery paper boats. I shook my head. I couldn't eat anything now. Gus quietly threw them into the trash. ”No charge today.”
My cell phone beeped. Sonny. ”Where are you? Etienne and I are waiting at the dock with the building inspector.”
Building inspector? Man. The most important thing going on in my life and I'd completely forgotten about it.
Sonny, Etienne, Jamie, and a pudgy, middle-aged man I didn't know were waiting on our Boston Whaler when I scurried to the dock.
”At last,” Sonny called in a voice that could be heard for blocks. ”Glad you could be bothered.”
I glared at him and put out my hand to the stranger. ”Julia Snowden.”
He introduced himself as the Busman's Harbor building inspector.
I turned to Jamie. ”You coming, too?”
”Hi, yourself.” He smiled politely in the face of my rudeness. ”Lieutenant Binder asked me to come along. Still technically a crime scene.”
Sonny steered the boat away from the dock. ”What kept you?”
”I ate lunch at Gus's.” That was an exaggeration, since I hadn't actually eaten anything. ”The cops . . . er”-I stole a glance at Jamie-”state police impounded Chris's cab.” There was no reason not to tell them. Jamie, for sure, already knew, and the news, including the nugget that I was there when it happened, would be all over the harbor by the time we got back.
”Tough break,” Sonny said. ”But if anyone knows how to behave when the cops are taking an interest in you, it's Chris Durand.” Sonny and Etienne shared a laugh about this, and I thought I saw some amus.e.m.e.nt in Jamie's eyes, too. Sonny loved making references to the sketchy part of Chris's life I never saw, the part that had been in trouble since high school.
Jamie moved toward the stern and I followed. ”Chris isn't really a suspect, is he?”
”You know I can't tell you that.”
Impounding Chris's cab still didn't make sense to me. ”I know the desk clerk at the Lighthouse Inn saw Ray after he got out of Chris's cab,” I said to Jamie. ”I know Michaela called Ray from the Snuggles and left in the middle of the night to meet him. I know Tony probably didn't sleep in his bed the night of the murder, either. How does any of this add up to Chris being involved?”
Jamie looked horrified. ”Julia! What the heck have you been up to?”
”The state police are going to make me lose my family's business. Am I supposed to just sit and wait?” I channeled Gus's flinty Maine independence.
”The state police didn't murder anyone on your family's island. If this murder made your financial problems worse, that's on the killer, not the police. And yes, you are supposed to sit and wait. That's exactly what you're supposed to do.” Jamie exhaled after he finished his little lecture.
Glancing past him I was relieved to see Morrow Island come into view. When you don't do all the seal-and-lighthouse ogling, it really is a short trip from the harbor.
As we climbed onto our dock, Gabrielle came out of her house. Something pa.s.sed wordlessly between her and Etienne and he put an arm around her.
”They were here all morning,” she said. I understood she meant the arson team. ”They took many, many photographs and took away some burned boards.”
”Standard procedure, if they suspect arson,” the building inspector said. ”The boards will be tested for accelerant.”
We walked toward Windsholme. In the daylight, the damage to the porch looked worse than it had the night before. The inspector walked around, taking photos and making notes on a form.
”Do you see evidence of accelerant?” I asked.
”Yes,” the inspector and Etienne answered simultaneously, and I remembered I was in the presence of not one, but two men who really understood fire.
”It's hard to figure how it could have burned so fast and hot without it,” the inspector said. ”Even though firefighting is a challenge out here, you people jumped on it right away. This really burned.”
Gabrielle headed back to her house, sniffling slightly at the sight of the ruined porch. The rest of us went around to the front of Windsholme. Jamie opened the security device on the big front doors and let us in. The inspector went straight through the great hall to the dining room. Its interior smelled heavily of smoke and at the east end of the room there was water damage to the hand-painted wallpaper. The French doors to the side porch were a charred mess, with half the upper panes gone. But the room was intact.
”Doesn't look bad,” the inspector admitted. ”I'll have to see the floors above and below to make sure there's nothing structural.”
Together, we trooped around the house while he poked and prodded. The inspector focused only on the far left side of the mansion by the porch, so even though there were four floors to view, it didn't take him very long.