Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(34)

I rested my elbows on my knees, until our shoulders were almost touching. “You know that Steven and I are over, right? His horrible behavior has never been about you or me. Or even Theresa,” I said quietly. “It’s about his own insecurities. That’s all.”

“I know,” she said. “My mom told me the same thing, that our breakup didn’t have anything to do with me and I should just let him go. But that doesn’t make it any easier. I just keep thinking maybe he’ll change his mind.” Her eyes lifted to mine. “Is that stupid?”

It was hard not to look at her and see Delia, all her misplaced hope and optimism. I didn’t want to hurt Bree’s feelings, but lying to her didn’t seem right. “Maybe not stupid. But definitely not smart.” She dropped her head and picked at the frays in her rope. “Can I ask you something?”

Her nod was slight, wary.

“You said Steven ordered the security system in October. Was that because of everything that happened with Theresa and Feliks Zhirov?”

“No. It was before all of that. He ordered it because of the phone calls.”

“Phone calls?”

“Someone was harassing him, calling him all the time. It went on for months. By the fall, it had gotten really bad. Steven was a little freaked out about it.”

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know. The calls always came to his cell phone. Whenever they did, Steven closed his door. There was a lot of shouting, and Steven would get angry and hang up.”

“Do you know what the caller wanted?”

“Steven said it was some crazy person who thought Steven owed her something.”

Her. “So it was a woman?”

“I think so. I mean … I overheard Steven call her a selfish bitch once.” Her brows pulled together. “You don’t think he was involved with someone else, do you?”

“Not that I know of,” I said thoughtfully. I wouldn’t put it past Steven, but until I knew for sure Bree was incapable of harming him, I didn’t want to give her any more ammunition to try. “But Steven mentioned he was having some financial problems at the farm. Do you know of anyone who might have had a gripe with him—a client or a supplier? Someone he owed money to?”

“No.” She gave a firm shake of her head. “Steven was good about paying his bills. His clients and suppliers all loved him.”

“Can you think of anyone who might have had a reason to be angry with him?”

“If you mean someone who could have been angry enough to start the fire, then no; I can’t think of anyone.”

“The fire?” Bree had said she hadn’t had any contact with Steven since he’d laid her off. So how did she know about the fire? Had the police been here already?

She pushed to her feet and wiped straw dust from her thighs. Taking my bucket as I stood, she stacked it with the others. “You didn’t hear? Someone set fire to the sales trailer at Steven’s farm last night. My older brother’s a volunteer at the fire department. He got the call after midnight. He said there wasn’t much left standing by the time they put it out.” Bree must have mistaken my silence for surprise. Her cheeks reddened. “When you came by, I just figured you knew. I thought maybe that’s why you were here.”

“To see if you were angry enough to have lit the match?”

She nodded. “My brother asked me the same thing.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I was here, watching TV with my dad all night. I’m not gonna lie,” she added, “I was plenty mad when Steven let me go. But I didn’t set that fire. My brother said the police will probably want to come and talk to me about it anyway, just to be sure.”

“And what will you tell them?”

“The truth,” she said. “That I love him.”

Bree gave me a small wave goodbye, her unlaced boots falling softly against the dirt as she retreated back to the warm glow of her parents’ house.





CHAPTER 17


In my hurry to get to Bree’s that morning, I’d forgotten the Pop-Tart I’d left on the counter, and my stomach had been growling since Melissa had opened her door, all those warm, luscious breakfast smells pouring out and taunting me. Somehow, I’d lost my appetite during our conversation in the barn, and I couldn’t muster the desire to stop on the way home for fast food. All I could think about as I turned onto my street was the reheated cup of coffee and Pop-Tart I hoped might be waiting for me.

My foot slammed on the brake less than a block from my house.

A strange sedan was parked in my driveway. Judging by the extra antennas on the roof, I was pretty sure it belonged to a cop.

No. This could not be happening. The fire had only occurred last night. In a different county. The police hadn’t even talked to Bree yet, and Vero and I hadn’t left anything at the trailer that could have led the cops here first. Had we?

As I eased the car into the driveway, my mind whirled over what Vero might have already confessed to them. Or what alibi she might have managed to come up with on the fly. Before I left for Bree’s, I’d washed our soot-stained clothes from the night before, but what about our shoes? We’d probably left evidence all over Vero’s car.

I parked the van, closing the garage door behind me, prepared to turn the police away if they hadn’t come with a warrant. My feet jolted to a stop as I stumbled into the kitchen.