Just Intuition (11 page)

"Me?"

"When I met you, it all crashed back. The two-second premonitions, the feelings about people and places I blocked out before. I can't hide when I'm with you. I feel like a satellite receiver and I'm wide open and taking in anything that comes my way. It's been difficult. The headaches and the nightmares I fought so hard to get rid of are back. I can't catch my breath and my life is spinning out of control like when I was ten."

* * *

"What happened when you were ten?" Erin lightly touched her shoulder. Allie's eyes grew dark and she pulled away stiffly.

"My mom died." She
rose abruptly and wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't want to talk about it. I have to get ready for work." Fiona nosed Allie's leg and followed her upstairs.

Erin sank back into the couch. She was so tired she decided to forego a much-needed shower in favor of a nap. There were so many layers to Allie and she fell asleep knowing she wanted to discover them all.

Allie's kiss on her cheek awoke her and she was startled to find Wrong-Way Rachel sleeping in the crook behind her knees. The cat's fluffy tail was tucked tightly under her chin and she purred contentedly. Erin froze, so as not to incur any clawed feline wrath. Her throat was still raw and she was relieved to spy the glass of ice cubes Allie had placed on the coffee table. She reached a hand out and tried to hook it over the top of the tumbler without disturbing Rachel. Allie shook her head and moved the glass closer. Erin smiled, popped an ice cube in her mouth and let it melt.

"Your mom
's zucchini loaf is in the fridge and I made you Jell-O for later," Allie said. "I'm taking your truck so call if you want. Don't do anything silly today, okay? Just rest." She kissed Erin again and headed out the door, jingling the keys in her hand.

Erin slept until well past noon and was astonished to find the cat still curled up with her when she woke. At some point, Rachel had moved from the crook of her knee to below her chin, and the
rumbling purr reverberated against Erin's sore throat. It was strangely soothing to have the warmth of the cat snuggled against her. She edged away, careful not to disturb her. This unexpected good will could only last so long.

"Truce?" she said aloud.

Rachel awoke and languidly stretched herself out, head all the way down to luxurious tail. She yawned lazily and hopped off the couch, landing feather light on her three legs.

CHAPTER NINE

After an awkward shower, keeping bandaged arms dry with elastic strapped plastic bags, Erin was pleased to shake off most of her fatigue. She was almost herself again. Aside from a sore throat and persistent cough, she actually felt pretty good. She grabbed the dog
's leash and headed out the door. Some fresh morning air would be perfect for both of them.

Excited to be out, Fiona strained against her leash and Erin trotted behind. Despite her vision impairment, Fiona kept to the center of the sidewalk, not veering right or left except for an occasional sniff at shrubbery. Less than two blocks later, Erin doubled over, wheezing. Her lungs burned like ignited jet fuel. She had not yet caught her breath and was still bent over with elbows on knees when she became aware of car tires pulling alongside the curb. Fiona
's body stiffened beside her, ears pricked and nose scenting the air. The dog let out an excited bark and leapt forward, nearly bowling Erin over.

"Easy, easy, dog."
Officer Zimmerman's voice. "Are you okay, Erin?"

"Fine," she wheezed, "I
'm fine."

"You will do just about anything to get a day off, won
't you?" He waited patiently until she was able to breathe normally and straightened up to look at him. By then, Fiona leaned heavily against his leg, tongue lolling out the side of her grinning mouth. She wetly nosed his hand and her tail whipped vigorously. Zimmerman reluctantly patted the dog twice on the top of her head and tucked his hand into his pocket before she could nose him again. She wiggled with glee.

"I don
't quite get dogs," he said, backing off a step. "They're always all over me, and they slobber." Fiona took the step with him and lovingly nuzzled her face on his knee.

"Well, dogs get you," she answered. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw Kathy Banks down at the station. She told me what happened last night, and it's all over the local radio. They are calling you a real honest to God superhero."

"Nah, it just happened and I did what I could," she said humbly.

"Kathy also said she talked to your girlfriend. They thought you were likely to do something silly today, and she asked me to check on you. And here you are. Were you seriously out jogging?"

"Uh, it didn
't start out that way. I wanted some air and then the dog was excited for a walk and then—"

"You were headed to the Stop 'N Go weren
't you? That's miles away. Are you trying to kill yourself?"

She breathed in and out, slowly and deliberately, before she looked him in the eye.

"Get in," he said, and her eyebrows shot upward. "But the dog rides here." He jerked the back door open so she could guide Fiona in.

"You don
't have a leopard gecko in your pocket, do you?"

"No, Merlin is at home. I
'm just happy to see you."

Erin
laughed hoarsely, slid in front and buckled up. She edged away from the unyielding angles of the onboard computer's mounting bracket. Behind them, Fiona bounded from one window to the other.

"What the heck happened last night?" He hit the power switch and gave the dog enough room to stick her head into the breeze. Her tongue waggled from the side of her mouth, canine nose happily twitching.

"I guess I went to the Stop 'N Go at the right time." Erin deliberately omitted the part about Allie's premonition sending her to the store. She gave him a condensed version of what happened after she discovered the fire.

"Holy frijoles, Batgirl," he said. "Gina
's a bit raw around the edges but she's an exceptionally sweet girl. Who would want to hurt her?"

"I can think of one belligerent old hermit," Erin said through
clenched teeth. "He was there last night, and I heard him threaten Gina."

"Who?"

"Old man Gunther Schmidt. He was furious when came to get his granddaughter Lily after Gina caught her shoplifting. I was in the store and he sounded threatening."

"Was she upset about it?"

"No, she seemed more sorry for the guy, but I had a bad feeling about it. He has a blowup at her store and an hour later the place goes up in flames. Coincidence? I don't think so!"

"Did Gina see anything?"

"Gina has been mostly out of it since the fire," she told him. "I tried to talk to her at the hospital, but she was too concussed. I think she was hit with the fire extinguisher because it was missing from its bracket and I'm pretty sure I passed it lying in the back hallway on my way out."

"So, Gunther comes in when Gina is in the washroom, grabs the fire extinguisher, waits and clobbers her. He ties her up with duct tape and traps her in there by wedging the office chair against the doorknob. That
's methodical, and sadistic."

Erin nodded. "This is a pretty small town and everyone here knows Gunther from way back. He can be a cantankerous old bastard, but he didn
't strike me as someone capable of such calculated cruelty toward another person. I guess you never can tell."

"Sounds like he knew Gina
's routine and it was easy for him to take advantage. He must have been watching her."

Erin nodded again. "Just like someone was watching Dolores Johnson and knew her routine."

"And someone likes fire." He knitted his brows in concentration. "Hey, wasn't there a fire by the cemetery recently?"

"Could Gunther have done all this?"

"Ryan and Mark were on that call. They said some witness thought it was kids. It's possible that it's not even related."

"Well, there sure are a lot of fires around here lately," she said. "That can
't be all coincidence."

"I
'm not sure it's wise to connect the dots just yet, but it sure feels tempting to link all these together. Is it reasonable to assume that an old guy like Gunther is traipsing about the bush at night, drinking beer in the swamp behind a widow's house?" He lingered at a stop sign long enough to punch an inquiry into the computer. A second later he looked up. "Gunther is squeaky clean. Not even a parking ticket in the system."

"Don
't forget that he used to be an outdoors guide. He knows this area like nobody else. I'm sure he still remembers all the bush trails between his place, the bog, and the Stop 'N Go. It takes a while to drive all the way around by car, but it's probably quite efficient if you know the short cuts through the bush by heart."

"What about motive?" he asked. He tapped two fingers on the steering wheel for emphasis. "What could possibly be the motive for Gunther to go after Dolores, or Gina?"

"I'm still puzzling that out. Gunther served with Gina's grandfather in Vietnam. She said her family owed him. There might be something he's holding onto from the past."

"What about Dolores?" he countered. "Why would he want to hurt her?"

"Like I said, I'm working on it."

The fire investigator
's unmarked car and the forensic van were parked out front when they reached the Stop 'N Go. The infamous fish sign lay crashed on its side in the parking lot and police tape was strung from corner to charred corner of the building's remains. Kathy was outfitted in a white suit, glowing like a Christmas ornament against the soot covered wreckage of the building. Camera in hand, she photographed the scene. The fire investigator followed her, nodding occasionally while she spoke. He held a metal canister and stooped to pick up a sample and place it inside.

They parked in the alley at the rear and left Fiona to pace in the backseat.

Erin walked around and stood in front, Zimmerman standing behind her in silent support. Where there were doors, now there was broken glass, twisted metal and half of the front wall caved inward. She closed her eyes and remembered the shrieks of fire devouring combustibles and the noxious smoke filling her lungs. She remembered the sickening feeling of Gina's skin scraping against concrete when she dragged her outside. She remembered struggling to breathe, staring at the sky, and watching smoke and sparks swirl against the stars. She remembered Kathy's halo, and finally waking up in hospital with an oxygen mask on.

"I didn
't think you'd be able to keep away from here," Kathy said, her voice sounding muffled inside an N95 particulate mask. She had loomed up before Erin registered it, and stood right in front of her, white mask matching her white protective suit and booties. The only splash of color came from her electric blue nitrile gloves. She pinched the mask from her mouth and nose. She was smiling. Kathy was always most happy in her element.

Behind her, the fire investigator used a flat trowel to clear debris from the floor where the store
's front counter used to be. He carefully scraped back layers and viewed each as he eliminated it. When he reached bare floor, he set the shovel aside and made notes. He picked up another burnt sample and placed it in a metal can.

"I knew you
'd be itching to get here." Kathy wagged a finger at Erin. "So I asked Chris to pick you up." She smiled at Zimmerman. Kathy was the only one, besides his mom, who called him by his real name, and he shuffled his oversize feet like a schoolboy.

"I only wanted a look," Erin said sheepishly.

"A chronology of this incident might be useful," Kathy said. "Why don't you walk me through it?"

Erin took a step forward but Kathy blocked her way.

"Metaphorically speaking, of course. I don't want your shoes in my crime scene. Just verbally walk me through the sequence of events."

Erin told her the story, as best she could remember, pointing here or there to describe where she stood, or where she crawled. Kathy nodded and took notes. While she talked, Erin noticed something catch Zimmerman
's eye and he followed it over into the ditch on the far side of the road. Soon, he was poking in the moist earth with a stick. He returned a few minutes later, clutching a dirt-filled plastic Ziplock bag. Erin raised her eyebrows in query but he merely shrugged. When she was finished describing the events of the fire, Kathy picked up a cardboard box marked Evidence and showed Erin the contents.

"What is it?" She peeped inside but the reddish melted plastic was unrecognizable.

"It used to be a red plastic jerry can," Kathy told her. "Ring a bell?"

"Nope."

"Gina's uncle Darryl said they kept one by the back door, for customer emergencies. She'd lend it to people who'd run out of gas or he'd use it to fill the lawnmower tank once a week. Do you remember seeing it?"

A memory sparked. "There were fumes when I first came into the store. I can
't be positive but it sure smelled like gasoline."

"We
're investigating the probability that an accelerant was used here. The fire investigator has debris samples and we'll send them off for confirmation. Unfortunately the plastic on this container is so melted that we won't get a print off it."

"What about the fire extinguisher?" Erin asked.

"I already seized that as evidence," Kathy told her, "but same story. There isn't a whole lot we can do to retrieve fingerprints when heat like this vaporizes everything. We might find other trace evidence."

"It sounds like a whole lot of bad news."

"Not all bad news. Dave was working last night and he seized a fairly large quantity of duct tape that was used on Gina. There's an excellent chance of developing prints from that using Gentian Violet."

Erin
's face was blank, so Kathy explained. "It's basically a dye we use because it reveals latent fingerprints on the sticky side of tape."

"Oh," Erin said. "What you and Dave do is pretty much alchemy to me, but I sure appreciate the results."

"You know how Dave is," Kathy continued. "He's not in a hurry for anything, so I'll check up on him later and maybe I can motivate him to get it done." She stopped. "Speaking of getting things done, I did see a possibility on that thing you talked to me about at the lab."

"You don
't need to speak cryptically," Erin told her. "Z-man knows. He feels the same way I do."

"Well, then," Kathy said. "Those two Budweiser cans were a sweaty, smeary mess but I did get a partial print off the unopened one. Do you have a suspect? It could save time."

Erin almost blurted her latest theory. She bit her tongue. Kathy would think that suspecting such an old man was a wildly ridiculous notion.

"No. No one yet," Erin said, and Zimmerman
's face involuntarily twitched at the omission.

"Okay," said Kathy slowly, narrowing her eyes slightly. "I
'll send them off to NCIC as soon as I have a batch. It'll be easier to slip them in unnoticed that way."

Erin
's expectations sank to a new low. What were the chances that sweaty, smeary, partial fingerprints could be matched by the FBI's National Database? The person's prints would already have to be on file related to a criminal conviction. It was doubtful that Gunther was in the system.