Page 31 of Memory of Murder
If Jack had the name of the woman who’d claimed the assault—
“We have to go back to the hotel,” Jack announced before she’d finished the thought.
“Why? Did you forget something?”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “There was a fire in your room. Several rooms along that corridor suffered smoke damage.” He glanced at her. “We’ll need to find a new place to stay.”
He’d lost her ata fire in your room. “How in the world did that happen?” The possibilities swirled in her head. She had not used an iron or a hair dryer or any other product that required electricity except the coffeemaker which stayed plugged in. She hadn’t touched it other than to brew a cup of coffee. Whatever happened, she didn’t think it was related to her use of the room.
“At the moment they don’t know the cause. Only that it started in your room.”
In her opinion that said it all. Anne sank into the seat. Did someone want them to stop their investigation that badly? Desperately enough to do this?
Thank God she had the box and all its contents with her.
What about the photos? She grabbed her purse and dug through it. A deep breath was impossible until her fingers found those irreplaceable photos. They were there. Thank God.
If she’d left them in the room…
She shook off the thought. She hadn’t.
The secrets and the lies and now a fire? It had been almost thirty years since Neil Reed was murdered and Mary Morton went to prison. What could anyone be trying to hide at this point?
Fear slid cold and oily through her chest.
There was only one answer—the truth about who murdered Neil Reed.
Just like Mary Morton said.
Water’s Edge Hotel
Chapel Hill Road, Johnsburg, Noon
JACK STARED ATthe blackened walls, the burned bed and curtains, the partially melted and charred desk and chair that had been a part of Anne’s room. He was damned glad they had already left before this thing started. But then, whoever did this had known they weren’t in their rooms. The goal was to destroy any evidence Anne might have left in the room and to scare her.
If Jack had doubted the conclusion, the fire marshal confirmed it by admitting that arson was suspected.
“Did anything survive?” Anne asked when he walked to where she waited near the stairwell at the end of the corridor.
“I wouldn’t think so. Either way, they aren’t going to give us access to the room or its contents anytime soon.”
“We’ll need new rooms.” She sighed. “And clothes.”
“Agreed.” He glanced around. “We can do that now if you’re ready.”
She looked up at him. “I say we go to Judith’s as planned. While we wait for the food, I’ll look for a new hotel online, and you check in with the senator’s people again. I want to see that man today.”
Jack couldn’t help but grin. She’d been so hesitant about going along with this investigation, and now she was leading the charge. He loved it.
She frowned. “Why are you smiling?”
“Just thinking how lucky I am to have you as a partner on this. What a good plan.” He hitched his head toward the parking lot. “You ready? If the manager here needs anything else he has my number.”
As they walked away she grumbled something aboutpartnerand shot him a look, but the smile her expression melted into told him she kind of liked the idea. He did too. Maybe too much.
When they reached the car, Jack held up a hand. “Hang on.” With the fire in the rooms, he wasn’t taking any risks that whoever had started it might not decide on some other route to deter them.
He checked the car doors—still locked. No way anyone was opening the hood or the trunk without getting into the car. Then he got down onto his hands and knees on the pavement, lowered onto his back and had a look at the undercarriage. He checked all the way around the vehicle and in the wheel wells.
