Page 20 of Rekindle My Heart

Turning onto Industrial Boulevard, Erica took in the houses. Circa 1930s, many were rundown and all were close together. Garages were off the alley in back. A few had fresh paint, at least in the last five years. Chain-link fences mapped out tiny yards, many patchy and in need of a good mowing. Others had the end-of-season flowers blooming in milk cans or old clay pots—A pop of color in an otherwise dull street.

Ryan parked across from the burnt-out building. The brick structure, a shadow of its former self, stood behind the bright yellow crime-scene tape. The harsh light of day illuminated the destruction the fire left behind.

“We can start here and circle around the block.” Ryan grabbed the photo and notebook before stepping out of the vehicle.

The quiet morning accentuated the squeak of the gate as they entered the first yard. Ryan held a confidence around him like a cloak as he rang the bell. Erica’s insides trembled. This was a part of town she didn’t frequent. Ever. Her parents used to warn her and Sarah about it.

Muffled sounds came from the other side of the door. A thump. A curse. Finally, the door creaked open an inch. A bloodshot eyeball stared at them. “What do you want?”

“I’m Detective Daniels and this is Firefighter Randall. We are looking into the fire that happened Sunday night.” He gestured behind him.

“I don’t know nothin’ about no fire. I already told the cops that.” The door slammed shut.

“Okay, then.” Erica stepped back, but Ryan didn’t move. He rapped on the glass.

The door opened again. Two inches this time. The man scowled.

Erica stepped up, smiled, and held out the photo of the SUV. “Have you seen this vehicle around?”

The scowl softened. He squinted at the image. “Why? He do something?”

“They may have information relating to the fire. A witness.” She cranked up the wattage on her smile and moved the picture closer to him.

He pushed it back to her and dropped his gaze. “Can’t say.”

“Well, if you remember anything else, please contact me.” Ryan held out his card.

The man pocketed it a second before he slammed the door.

“Well, he wasn’t very friendly,” Erica said as they walked to the next house.

“He was nervous. He’d seen the vehicle but didn’t want to say.”

His long strides had her double-timing to keep up with him. “How could you tell?”

“His body language, his noncommittal answer. Not a yes or no but a can’t say. I’m guessing this vehicle comes here regularly.”

“Drug dealer?” She glanced back at the house.

“Or customer. I know the local dealer has a pot leaf tattooed on his temple.”

“Really? On his face? Isn’t that a little conspicuous?” Unless it was his way of advertising. She shrugged.

“You’d be surprised at some of the things people do.”

“People surprise me all the time.” Not to mention him.

The next door was marginally more friendly. The young mom opened the door wider than a sliver but hadn’t seen the SUV in question. As they walked up to the third house, one with flowers blooming beside the front steps, she saw the curtains move.

Before they reached the bottom stair, the door opened. An elderly woman with a black curl peeking out of a shower cap eyeballed them. “Cops. It’s about time you responded to my complaints.”

“Ma’am. I’m Detective Daniels, and this is Firefighter Randall. We’re looking into the fire from the other day.”

She huffed. “You’re not here about the noise complaint? This is the fourth time I’ve had to call on those troublemakers.”

“Ma’am, could I get your name?” Ryan asked.

“Esther White.” She grew a couple inches as she spoke. She had to be no more than five-foot-two. She wagged her finger at the rundown house next door.