“Do you think Lewis was trying to find arson where others missed it in this case?” Declan asked, holding up a file.
“There was nothing else going on at the time to support arson,” Connor said. “No suspects, no one unexpected at the scene, and no pattern of any other fires purposely set in the whole county at the time.”
“I know,” Braden said. “But I managed to get my hands on his notes when I wrote that paper, which aren’t in the files. He made a pretty compelling argument that there was a lighter fluid spray in the burn pattern on the sunroom wall that was adjacent to the patio. Either somebody accidentally squirted the fluid all over the wall, or it could have been used as an accelerant to start the fire and the rags combusted from the heat of the flames.”
A low-grade hum rolled through Declan’s whole body. “And they…” He looked down at the report, seeing nothing—not a word—about that. “Ignored that?”
“They ignored Kirby Lewis,” Braden said. “But I will say, they had canines in there the next day, and they did find the lighter fluid, but since the fire burned outside because of the chemical rags and inside near a desk with a bunch of lighters, they couldn’t say with certainty that the lighter fluid was the cause. And the rags clearly combusted, so the most obvious conclusion was that they started the fire.”
Obvious to everyone but Kirby Lewis.
“And no one else questioned the veracity of this investigation,” Connor added. “It went on for months, was extremely thorough, and followed every protocol. That’s why it hasn’t haunted me.”
But it sure as hell was haunting Declan, especially now as he read the report. “Any chance you could get this guy back on the grid so I can talk to him, Braden?” he asked.
“Depends on how he feels about the case, I guess. I can try. Let me see if I can scare up some intelligence on his whereabouts.”
Connor turned a page of the file he held, nodding as he read. “This lighter fluid as possible accelerant is interesting, but the only fingerprints on the can they found were Max’s, who handled the lighters all the time. Your eccentric arson investigator was soundly overruled.”
“All the more reason to talk to him,” Declan said.
Connor closed the file. “You sure you want to open that can of worms?”
Declan choked. “You’re kidding, right? Our father died in this fire.”
“If it was a mistake with the chemical rags, it’s Evie’s mother who carries that,” Connor said. “But if it was set by someone spraying lighter fluid? Then you’re essentially accusing someone living in the house of arson and, technically, homicide. Twenty years after the case was closed.” He stared at Declan as that sank in. “You sure you want to go there, bro?”
Good God, did he? How far back would that set him with Evie?
Connor slid the file back in a box. “It seems to me that you two have enough obstacles to overcome without looking for some made-up ones.”
Were they made up? Declan looked at Braden. “What do you think?”
“I have a lot of respect for Kirby Lewis, and I have always thought there might be more to this fire than some mishandled rags. But if you look really close, Dec, you’ll see a subtext in that file.”
“That says…”
“Dad broke protocol,” he said softly. “We have no idea why, and we’ll never know. But if you’re looking to place blame, there’s plenty for our family as well as Evie’s.”
“I’m not looking to place blame,” he said. “I’m trying to get closure.”
Connor huffed a sigh.
“What?” Dec asked, standing up to challenge his brother with a harsh look. “Is that so wrong?”
“Declan.” Braden, ever the peacemaker between his two older brothers, put his hand on Declan’s shoulder. “That fire…” He glanced at the file boxes, then back to Declan. “Makes you disappear. And as far as we’re concerned, we lost enough that night.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he said, looking from one to the other. They had different ways of showing their love, but he respected them both enormously, as men and as firefighters. And he loved them as the true brothers they were. “It seems I owe a lot of people apologies for how I’ve acted for twenty years.”
“Nah. Yeah, maybe.” Connor laughed easily. “We don’t hold grudges, Big D.”
Braden lifted his brow in question. “So. Kirby Lewis? Yes or no?”
Declan didn’t really have to think about it. “Yes. I’d like to talk to him.”
He wasn’t manufacturing obstacles, he told himself. He was trying to get rid of them. He had to face everything about the fire if he was ever going to escape the hold it had on him. Until he was free of that, he couldn’t be all he wanted to be for Evie.
Or was he, as his sister suggested, looking for ways to sabotage this relationship?
Damn it. Did his whole damn family know him better than he knew himself?
Chapter Fourteen
Evie was wiped out by late Friday afternoon. In addition to taking Judah in for his pre-op appointment, she’d ended up spending the better part of two days at Molly’s office, seeing patients from as far away as Holly Hills and Chestnut Creek. Today, in between painstakingly cleaning the chandelier, she’d studied up on the CVS procedure, watching videos from around the world, including one of her performing the surgery on a Great Dane about five years ago.
Was that the last time she’d done the procedure? She wasn’t sure, but she felt ready. And now, it was time to give Judah his last meal before the surgery in the morning. After she finished up with Granddaddy’s dinner, she brought Judah down the front stairs, which he navigated easier than the back, for the chicken feast she’d prepared.
“You have to eat well tonight,” she told him. “You have a very big day tomorrow.”
But as she headed into the kitchen, a tap at the front door
