My Kind of Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #1)(66)

Featherstone blanched, but then recovered. “Sorry for the fib. I thought it best not to bring Maggie’s name into this, given her position as mayor and all.”

“But I’d already mentioned Maggie,” Travis said. “I mentioned her before you lied about where you saw me. You say you saw me start the fire, Featherstone. How did I start it?”

“Uh . . . with matches. You threw them through the fence, at the nearest trees. When they started to burn, you tossed the rest of the matches into the fire and drove away. That was when I called nine one one. And it’s a good thing I did, or the whole store would’ve gone up in smoke.”

At that point, Travis was about ninety percent sure Featherstone had started the fire. But so far, there was no proof against him—only the vague shadow of the lie he’d told.

“We’ll get to the bottom of this later, after I’ve investigated the alleged crime scene,” the sheriff said. “Meanwhile, Morgan, I’ll be taking you in for questioning.”

“Am I under arrest?” Travis had gone cold inside.

“Not yet. But I’d advise you to come back to the station with me.”

“What the hell’s going on?” Conner, with Rush, had come up to stand behind Travis. “This man hasn’t done anything wrong. You don’t have the right to take him.”

“It’s all right, Conner.” Travis knew better than to resist. “This is just a misunderstanding. Go ahead and open for business. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

But as the sheriff ushered him toward the SUV, Travis knew that he was the leading suspect in a case of malicious arson. He had means, motive, opportunity, and no alibi. He was in trouble over his head.

As he was about to climb into the rear seat, he turned back to face his partners. “One thing,” he said. “Whatever you do, for God’s sake, don’t tell Maggie.”

*

Maggie was in her office, debating whether to go home for lunch or grab a snack out of the vending machine when the receptionist relayed word that the sheriff was outside. She welcomed him in. “You’re looking far too serious today. Did you learn any more about the fire?”

“Some. For now, I’d like to keep the details to myself, but I did find evidence that it had been deliberately set.”

Maggie felt a chill of premonition. She masked it with a smile. “Please sit down, Ben,” she said. “You’re making me nervous, looming over my desk like that.”

“Sorry.” He sank onto the edge of the chair opposite her desk. “I have what might be some embarrassing questions to ask you,” he said.

“Go ahead.” Her pulse clicked into a canter.

He cleared his throat. “Were you aware that Stanley Featherstone might have been spying on you?”

“Wow, where did that come from?” she joked.

“Were you, Maggie?”

“I suspected it. He’s asked me out a few times. I always shrugged it off. I have no interest in him. But when he came in here to warn me about Travis, saying that a concerned citizen had seen him coming out of my house . . . that gave me the creeps.”

“So you are seeing Travis Morgan?”

The weight of the premonition deepened. “Yes. It’s no secret. What’s all this about, Ben?”

“Has Travis ever mentioned wanting to get even with his father for trying to harm his business?”

“No.” Now Maggie was getting scared. “In fact, Conner once told me that Travis had refused to retaliate against Hank. He’d said it would only poison the well. Ben, what is this? What’s going on?”

“Was Travis with you last night?”

“Yes. He dropped by after work and was so tired that he fell asleep on the sofa. I woke him around eleven, and he left. But he did call me on the way home to say that somebody was following him. He said they turned around after he passed the hardware store. And he didn’t mention that the place was on fire.”

“Did you notice any other vehicle nearby when he left? One that didn’t belong in the neighborhood?”

“I didn’t even look!” Maggie rose out of her chair, trembling. “For the love of heaven, Ben, I’ve always thought we were friends! Tell me what’s going on!”

“All right. Sit down.” He paused while she took her seat again. “Stanley Featherstone is claiming he followed Travis from your house last night and saw him set the fire.”

Maggie gasped. Her head swam with disbelief. “No! Stanley’s lying! He’s out to get Travis because of me!”

“That’s one theory. Right now, we’ve got no proof either way. But we brought Travis in for questioning this morning. Stanley’s story did sound fishy in spots. But Travis had means, motive, and opportunity. And whether he started the fire or not, the fact that he called you could’ve been a ploy to set up an alibi.”

“Well, now that you’ve talked to me, you know that Stanley had means, motive, and opportunity as well. Ben, Travis didn’t do this thing! He wouldn’t! He has too much to lose. Locking him up again would kill him—and Stanley knows that.”

“Travis is locked up now, in holding, until we sort this out,” the sheriff said. “Arson is a serious crime, and I’m sworn to do my job. I’m sorry, Maggie, but if the guilty finger points to him, he’ll be placed under arrest.”