“What is it?” Aryne Peterson asked if he could come in. Inviting him in was easy—getting information from him was another matter altogether. “If you don’t start talking, I might well have to hurt you. What is it?”
“The Martins. The ones that had their home burnt down just before Christmas.” He looked around. “I hadn’t realized you’d found a place to live. Shall I congratulate you now?”
“I’m moving back to where I came from. All of us are.” Aryne looked so crestfallen that she nearly laughed. “We’ll be coming back from time to time. And I’ll make sure you have my new number once I’m settled. We decided that we love it back there. It’s our roots, I guess you could call it. My sister Jude, she’s marrying the king of the place there. She’ll be his queen in all things.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for all of you. Not so much about you leaving the area, but that you’re going to be all together. But about the Martins. They’re claiming I’ve doctored my report on what I found out there. That I poured gasoline all around so their insurance wouldn’t pay off. I’m glad more every day that you bought me the body cam I’ve been using. The recording of it all, including our conversation out there, is being reviewed by the sitting judge.” Piper asked him why he’d come to her. “You’re going to be called as a witness. It’s not a bad thing. The judge, I believe you know him—Arthur Montgomery. He likes you and said that if he was to trust anyone with the truth, it would be you. He asked me to come by here and let you know he was going to have you summoned.”
“When is it?” Aryne smiled. “Today? He is making this thing start today? What would have happened had I not been home? Would he have just waited me out?”
“Yes. As I said, he likes you and knows you’re going to be honest with the court. He is going to tell the Martins you were on scene with me.” Piper asked him what capacity she was testifying in. “He’s making you a part of the fire team, as the one to head up things like this, discordances with insurance companies and families. I think you’d be a pro at it. Not to sound mean, but you don’t take shit from anyone, and that would put you in favor of anyone I know. A straight shooter is what he said.”
She looked around her apartment. There really wasn’t much left to do. She was just making herself busy work, so she’d not be in the middle of something when she was to meet with her sisters. It was their party night, the only night of the week they were able to get together as a family.
“I can do this, but I won’t miss my dinner date with the family. You know as well as I do that we get together every Wednesday night. It’s our time.” Aryne told her he knew that and had told Montgomery that too. “When do I have to be there?”
For an answer, Aryne went to the door and opened it. Shaking her head, she hated to admit that she wanted to do this. And doing it before she tore the reasons apart as to the reason she wanted to do it would be good for her. She tended to overthink things.
The courtroom was filled, a surprise to her since it was only a couple of days after Christmas. When she asked where she should be seated, Judge Montgomery called for her to come to the seat next to him. As soon as she was seated, he handed her some files. The one on top was from the Martins. The others, she remembered, she’d been to the sites of the fires with Aryne. She looked up when someone said her name.
“What makes you an expert on the fire at the Martin home, Ms. Warrior? I’m to understand that you’re some sort of artist. The last time I was in college, that wasn’t considered a degree.” There was a little bit of laughter around the otherwise quiet room when the attorney for the Martins spoke. Piper smiled. If he’d known her, even a little, he would have backed off then. “What do you have to add to this that the fire marshall called you in today to help with?”
He made quotation marks with his fingers when he said help, like he was implying something else besides her helping in any way. Whatever had he meant by it? Well, it pissed her off enough for her to get as nasty as he’d been.
“I have degrees in law enforcement and emergency medical services. I also have a doctorate in fire sciences and forensic fire investigations. I’m a retired firefighter with the 151 here in town too.” The men and women present today shouted “hoo-hoo,” as they did at this particular firehouse every time they met up with one of their own. The attorney for the Martins, Tyler Peck, said she seemed to be overqualified for the job. “How would you know what I’m qualified or even overqualified to do? You’re an attorney, and I can do your job as well if you want to know the truth. So far? I’m not terribly impressed by you at all.”
“Be that as it may, what do you have to say about the fires that the Martins have had?” She told him everything she’d figured out about the fire. Since he didn’t put any kind of stipulations on which fire, she was able, after the judge said Peck should be more careful how he worded things, to bring up the other fire the Martins had too. “The first fire has nothing to do with this fire,
