Flashover Pt. 09

THIRTY

Maggie was wearing a pale-yellow button front shirt in place of her normal bright blue work shirt. She was standing still, watching as Sean mounted the tiny camera low, over her belly. He didn't care about the video, he just wanted the audio.

"Are you starting to have second thoughts?" he asked.

"Yeah, a little."

"You don't have to do this. Here, put this in your pocket somewhere," he said, handing her the transmitter.

"I know."

The idea had come to him in his sleep. The problem with the Barns arson case was motivation. If he could establish a motive, combined with Click's testimony that Juno had paid him to burn the buildings, and the security guard getting the partial plate, it might be enough for a magistrate to issue an arrest warrant. Maybe.

He'd like to take a closer look at the truck and see if they could find some tangible evidence to tie Juno to the fires. Before they could do that, though, they needed to have something, anything, to get the ball rolling, or establish there was no motive and he was looking at the wrong guy. Over dinner last night, he'd mentioned to Maggie how he wanted to get in and have an off the record conversation with Peg, Juno's assistant. He couldn't do it because he was burned. She knew he was a cop and she'd probably clam up tight, especially if she knew Juno was involved. They'd talked about the various ways he could get someone in there and have Peg open up to them a little, and finally decided on a flower delivery as the best bet.

Once they'd settled on a plan, he'd decided he was going to ask his dispatchers to see if one of them would be willing to do it. Terri or Claire would be his first choice because being a cop was way down on the list of things they looked like they'd do for a living. Then Maggie had surprised him and offered to do it. Terri and Claire were no more sworn officers than Maggie, and even if they were, they would still be private citizens in Charleston with no arrest authority, just like Maggie. It didn't matter who delivered the flowers. Having Peg recorded would be enough to get him an arrest warrant if she spilled something juicy, as unlikely as that was.

"Just say the word and we'll call this off."

"No, I'll do it. I'm not going to be in trouble for impersonating an officer, am I?"

He chuckled, but he could tell she was worried. "No, of course not. Don't identify yourself as an officer and you have nothing to worry about."

"And it's legal to record someone without telling them?"

"So long as one of you knows you're recording, its legal in North Carolina." He smiled and gave her face a caress. "This is all good, but if you don't want to then—"

"No. I'm just nervous," she said, cutting him off.

"Don't be. All you're going to do is deliver some flowers. Nothing illegal or immoral about that. If she happens to say something, that's on her, not you."

"This woman, she won't be in trouble?"

"Not with the law, not unless she was the one that hired Clicks to set the fires. Now, as unlikely as it is, if she fingers Juno for the arson, that might come back and bite her in the ass with her boss."

Maggie smiled, but it was weak. "Okay." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm ready."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, if you'll stop asking me that."

He grinned and held up his hand in surrender. They were standing in the armory and wouldn't be seen, so he gave her a swift kiss. "Let's roll."

They took her car because her blue Civic was clearly not a police car and looked like something a flower delivery might happen in. They stopped at KaBloom, picked up a dozen red roses, and then drove to Charleston, Maggie chattering away until they pulled to a stop in the Juno Demolition parking lot, her nervousness clearly on display.

"Okay," he said, handing her the flowers. "Go in, be friendly, and see if you can get her to say anything about what's going on. Juno's been acting strange of late, missing work, money troubles, anything like that."

She nodded and opened her door. "Okay. Here I go."

"Hey," he said, taking her arm. "It's going to be okay. If she won't talk, don't sweat it, just come on back. No harm, no foul." He grinned and pressed the camera to start it recording. "Break a leg."

Maggie nodded and slid out of the car. He watched as she squared her shoulders and then quick stepped it up and into the office. He turned on his radio and waited.

I have a delivery for Peg, Maggie said.

I'm Peg. Those are lovely. Are you sure you have the right place?

Peg, Juno Demolition?

That's me, but why? Who are they from?

There was a pause. Nothing on the card. You must have a secret admirer.

Peg twittered out a laugh. Hardly. I can't imagine who would send them. You're sure they're for me?

I just deliver them. I can't take them back. Well, I can, but they're already paid for, so you might as well take them. If you really don't want them, I'll take them, Maggie said, her tone light and playful.

No, no, that's okay, Peg replied, her own voice filled with delight.

Maybe your boss? Someone you work with? Your husband?

Peg spluttered. Not likely. My husband is my boss. Now if you'd brought me a case of beer, I might believe it was him.

Maggie laughed and then sighed dramatically. I wish someone would send me flowers.

Sean winced, wondering if that comment was for his benefit.

Peg, thank you for all you've done... That's so odd, Peg said, reading from the card. And there was no name?

Like I said, I just deliver them. I bet it was your husband.

You don't know Harv like I do. His idea of a romantic gesture is to take me fishing with him, just the two of us. Besides, I can't see him spending the money on flowers right now.

He felt a rush. What he wouldn't give to be able to follow up on that statement.

There's never a bad time for flowers, Maggie said.

There is when money's tight.

Oh, sorry to hear that.

You know, I wonder if these are from the YMCA? I'm on their board.

Maybe that's it. Too bad it's not your husband if that's the case.

Yeah, Peg sighed.

I have to be going. Enjoy your flowers!

Thanks! Have a great day!

A moment later Maggie trotted down the three steps and threw herself into the car.

"Get anything useful?" she asked as she quickly buckled, started the car, and backed away.

"That comment about money being tight was interesting," Sean said, reaching over and tapping the camera again to turn it off.

"Yeah. Do you think that's all this is about? Money?"

"What would you rather it be about?"

She sighed. "Nothing, I guess, but you're the one who said it would be like smashing up your boss's car because you were mad at your wife."

"That was before I knew money was involved. Think about this. He needs the money, so if Barns pulled out..."

"Then the other company might move back in and he'd get the job."

He formed his fingers into a gun and pointed it at her. "Bingo. By the way, you're a natural at this undercover work. You sounded completely normal. Maybe I'll send you out on some drug buys," he teased.

"No way. Nope. No siree. I was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs in there, and I was just delivering flowers. I'd probably pee myself if it were actually dangerous."

He laughed. "I haven't heard that one before."

"What?"

"The long-tailed cat thing."

She grinned. "My grandma used to say that."

"Well, you did great."

She looked at him and beamed. "I did, didn't I? Now that it's over, it was kind of exciting. I felt a little like Agent 99."

His brow furrowed slightly as he thought. "Where have I heard that before?"

She rolled her eyes. "Get Smart? Steve Carell and Anne Hathaway?"

He snapped his fingers. "That's right. I remember watching some of the television show in reruns. Starred..."

"Don Adams and Barbra Feldon," she supplied when he paused.

"'Missed it by that much,'" he said in a passable Maxwell Smart imitation, holding his pointer finger and thumb an inch apart.

She snickered. "Have you seen the movie?"

"No."

"It's pretty funny. The bathroom scene with Steve Carell made me laugh until I cried. We'll have to watch it if you like the series. So, back to this arson thing, what are you going to do now?"

"I think I'm going to arrange a little interview with Mr. Juno and tell him what I know and what I think. See how he reacts to having a noose around his neck."

"Are you going to mention me?"

He smiled. She didn't sound thrilled about the idea. "No. Not Peg either. Now I have motivation, sort of, opportunity, and a witness. If my damned witness was a little more reliable, I'd have Juno's ass in my jail right now. Since I'm not ready to make that leap, I'm going to squeeze him to see if he pops."

"Eww!" she cried, curling her lip and scrunching her nose in disgust.

He snickered. "Police work is an ugly job."

They continued to chat the rest of the way back to Brunswick. He could tell Maggie was feeling her success as she was more animated and giggly than normal. As soon as she was gone, he was going to run by the florist, get another dozen roses, and have them delivered, along with another of those stick-on badges they gave out to kids. He gave her one before, when she was helping him with the Locoste case, and maybe she would get a laugh out of getting another. She pulled to a stop in the station parking lot and followed him in. They went to his office instead of the armory because he wanted to clear the video from the camera before putting it on the charger.

"Thanks for the help today," he said as she carefully worked the camera out of the buttonhole.

"It was fun. Maggie Neese, secret spy!" She handed him the camera and transmitter before buttoning her shirt. She looked around. "Too bad we're not at home."

He liked it when she purred like that. "Why?"

She smiled in a way that made him feel flushed. "I think you know why. We might have to play secret agent tonight, where I have to seduce you to get the keys to disarm the nuclear missiles or something."

He couldn't help but smile. "That's some imagination you've got there."

"You started it."

He chuckled. "Okay, Mrs. Bond."

"You're not working tonight, are you?"

"No, why?"

"I have something for you to do when you get home this evening. My place?"

"I'll be there. Want to grab a quick lunch?"

"I'd love to, but I need to get back to work." She gave him a brief kiss. "For later," she whispered then smiled at him as she turned and swaggered out of his office, her ponytail swinging.

He watched her go then shook himself out of his daze. They'd only been gone ninety minutes, and it was just now lunch time, but he was going to have a hard time concentrating for the rest of the day. He went out for lunch, stopping first at KaBloom to order another dozen roses for delivery to the wastewater treatment plant.

"And what should the card read?" the short, smiling woman asked.

"For the best Bond girl of them all."

"From you?"

"No name on the card. She'll know who they're from."

The woman flapped the Junior Police Officer stick-on badge he'd given her to include in the card. "Yeah, I guess she will. Okay, chief, we'll get these delivered right after lunch."

"Thanks, uh, was it Faye?"

The woman twittered out a laugh. "Close. Fawn."

"Sorry. Thanks, Fawn."

"You're welcome."

He grabbed a quick burger then returned to the station and looked up the number he needed. "Chief Zimwalski, please," he said.

"Who's calling?"

"Police Chief Sean McGhee, Brunswick."

"Just a moment, chief. Let me see if he's available."

He sat on hold for a moment. "This is Zimwalski. How can I help you, chief?"

"First, I want to thank you for your assist with Juno the other day."

"No problem."

"I'd like to ask another favor."

"Okay, let's hear it."

"I'd like to talk to Harvey Juno, on the record."

There was a short pause. "Why should I let you do that? You just spoke to him a couple of days ago."

"I know. From that, I've gotten enough that I'd like to question him more fully."

There was another pause. "Can you tell me what you've got?"

"I can trust your discretion?"

"Of course."

"You remember I had the plate, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, after talking to him, I've since found out he's in financial trouble. How deep, I don't know. The site where the man was seen prowling is the same site where we had two recent arsons. He was the low bidder to take those buildings down if another company that was looking at the property had moved forward with their project. They elected not to when the property was purchased before they were ready to proceed."

"And you think Harvey started the fires?"

"I think he hired someone to start the fires. I caught the man who admitted to setting the fires, and he picked Juno's picture out of a group as the man who hired him."

There was a moment of quiet. "How reliable is the witness IDing him?"

"Well, that's part of the problem. He's not great."

There was another moment of silence. "Since your witness isn't reliable, it sounds to me like you're fishing. Harvey Juno is a well-respected member of this community."

"I am, a bit," Sean admitted. "But think about it. I have two arsons. The man who was hired to set the fires picked Juno out of four men. One of his trucks was spotted at the scene, and he has a financial incentive to see this project fail. You draw your own conclusion. I'd like to keep this unofficial, if I can. Right now, I just want to talk to him and give him a chance to clear up a few things."

"You want us to bring him into the station?"

"If you would. It might encourage him to talk to me."

Zimwalski sighed. "Okay, I'll ask him to cooperate, but if he refuses, I won't try to detain him on what you've given me."

"That's fine. Just keep what I told you to yourself."

"Okay. When?"

"Tomorrow would be great if he can do it."

"I'll call you later and let you know the date and time. Fair enough?"

"Good enough. Thanks."

Sean hung up. He didn't blame Zimwalski for pushing back. He'd have probably done the same, but he'd rather not have to go for an arrest warrant until he had a little more. He needed something, anything, more solid than Clicks' testimony to base the case on.

He opened his case file and began to type in all the new information he'd collected. He was almost done when his phone rang. "McGhee," he said, tucking the handset to his shoulder as he continued to type.

"They're lovely. And I got a badge too," Maggie said.

He smiled. "I figured it was the least I could do since you helped me out."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

There was a brief pause, a slightly awkward silence. "I have to get back to work, but I wanted to thank you for the flowers. You'll be over as soon as you feed Marmalade?"

"After what you said in my office? Count on it."

She giggled. "Don't be late."

"You can count on that too."

.

.

.

THIRTY-ONE

"Mr. Juno, thank you for meeting with me," Sean said as he entered the interrogation room in the Charleston PD station.

In the room were Harvey Juno along with his lawyer, a thin, pale, wisp of a man with little hair, wearing too large a shirt and thick glasses, and a member of the Charleston PD. The interrogation room was much like his own back in Brunswick, a square concrete block room with a door, stainless steel table, two matching chairs, and nothing else. An extra chair, probably borrowed from an office, had been added for Juno's lawyer. The most obvious difference in this room, compared to his, was the large mirror on the wall. He was a little envious. He wished his interrogation room had an observation room behind a two-way mirror.

"First, I want to state my client is here of his own free will. He agreed to this interview at the request of Chief Zimwalski," the lawyer said, his voice far deeper than Sean would have expected possible from such a scrawny neck.

"Okay," Sean said.

"Please confirm for the record this is not a formal detention and my client is free to leave at any time."

"He's free to leave at any time."

Harvey glared at Sean. "What is this all about? I answered all your questions at my office the other day. If you had more questions, you could have called me."

"This shouldn't take long. Can you explain why your truck was at The Mills at Brunswick site on Friday, July twenty-first, twenty seventeen, at approximately ten pm?"

"No. I thought we agreed the guy who thought he saw it got the plate numbers mixed up."

Sean ignored the statement. "To your knowledge, has the truck been moved from the location you showed me any time before or after then?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"But no time around July twenty-first?"

"No."

"What about anytime during June of this year?"

"No, probably not."

"When did you last try to start the truck?"

"When you were there. What is this?" Harvey protested.

"Just bear with me, please," Sean replied. "When was the last time before that?"

"I don't know! Why does it matter?"

"When was the last time you inspected the engine of the truck?"

"What? I don't know that either. What difference does it make?"

"Is there a point to these questions?" the lawyer asked.

Sean ignored the lawyer. "Can you explain the fingerprints on the hood?"

"What fingerprints?" Harvey asked.

"There are fingerprints in the dirt on the hood of the truck that suggest the hood has been recently opened. I'm curious if perhaps someone boosted the truck and drove it to The Mills at Brunswick site."

Harvey stared at Sean. "This is about more than someone seeing my truck. What's this about?"

"Just answer the question, please."

"No, I can't explain the damn fingerprints on the damn hood! Maybe someone opened it for some reason. What does that have to do with anything?" Harvey snarled, clearly irritated.

"How's business, Mr. Juno?"

"None of your damned business! I'm done here!"

Harvey pushed back from the table and began to stand.

"Just one more question, before you go. Can you explain how your photograph was picked out from among several as the man who paid to have The Mills at Brunswick buildings burned?"

"Don't answer that!" Harvey's lawyer cried before Harvey could answer.

"That's a lie!" Harvey yelled as he jumped to his feet. "We're out of here!" He started for the door. "Let me out of here!"

Sean clinched his jaw. No confusion, only outraged denial. Harvey was lying, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"Sit down, Mr. Juno," a voice came over a speaker. "This is Chief Zimwalski. I'm detaining you for questioning in the arson investigation of The Mills at Brunswick."

"What? You can't do that!" Harvey yelled.

"I protest this action!" Harvey's lawyer said, his voice loud and demanding.

A moment later, Police Chief Arnold Zimwalski stepped into the room. Zimwalski was pushing seventy, his hair still full and thick but completely white. He was a bit overweight, but he still carried himself with pride. His white shirt and black pants were sharply creased and spotless, and his shoes and leather duty belt glowed. Zimwalski's crystal blue eyes studied Harvey a moment. It was clear he had seen a lot in his years of service, and it was just as obvious by his stance he knew Harvey was hiding something.

"Mr. Juno, care to answer the question of how a man picked out your picture?"