“Whose are we talking?” My stomach churns at the thought.
“His, of course. But it could’ve been mine and Sonny’s too. The fire.” She pauses, still out of breath. “My father was under the impression that the hire set my place on fire.”
“The one from Boston?”
“Uh-huh.” She stares out the side window, following the lines of trees as we fly past them. “The hire broke in a day before the fire.”
“What?” The shock has me slamming on the brake, my speed reduced by almost half. “Didn’t James Taylor mention something about?—?”
“My thoughts exactly.” Piper turns to me, staring hard at my profile as if to try and draw a conclusion. “He said there were signs of break-in, and Maple Crossing never has those…or so I thought. I set the fire on the stove, but the flames tripled as soon as they hit the floor.”
“Causing an explosion…” I turn a sharp corner and use this next long stretch of road to search Piper’s face. “Did you spill anything flammable?”
“Jess had used some bleach in the sink, but it wouldn’t have been on the floor.”
I think for a moment. “You’re sure there was nothing else around?”
“What are you saying? The guy purposely spilled something flammable, hoping to burn down the house?”
“No. Spilling flammable liquid wouldn’t set the house on fire on its own; it has to be ignited. Unless you told someone ahead of time what you were planning to do, he wouldn’t have planted anything.” I glance at her sidelong. “Did you tell anyone?”
“No.” She winces. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I spoke to an online insurance consultant, but that was minutes before I went ahead with the plan. The break-in happened the day before. Both my father and James Taylor confirmed this.”
“Which means that if he spilled a flammable substance, it was accidental,” I say. “The guy who broke in wasn’t planning to cause a fire. He was probably just trying to find your father, if he assumed you two were living together.”
“Now would be a good time to tell you about the Chevy.” I feel her pitch her eyebrow up at me in my peripheral. “Remember when I mentioned about the two cases being intertwined?”
“He’s looking for your father,” I state.
“Yeah, hoping I’ll eventually lead this hire to him.”
I clench my hand on the steering wheel, overcome with too many thoughts to contain. This is bad. We’re getting somewhere with the fire and the cause, but her father’s carelessness is now affecting all of us, including the kids. Their lives are at risk if there’s a stalker in town, desperate to track down Philip Hart.
Anger rushes through me, unfiltered. “That selfish fucking bastard. He’s using you as a cover-up to buy him more time, and risking our kids’ lives as a result.”
“It’s my father they want. Not Ellie and Sonny.”
“True, but it’s always the innocent ones who end up being used as leverage.” My fingers dig into the leather of the wheel, threatening to rip the material.
I knew in my gut that this was coming.
It’s only possible to dedicate your attention to one person at a time. Inviting Piper into my home, spending time with her, and looking out for her today by waiting around in the motel parking lot is bringing me closer to her, and further away from my own daughter.
I’m not with my own daughter today. And I should be, even though she’s at school. She’s not safe there while the hire from Boston is stalking us.
“You need to tell the stalker where your father is.”
The silence isn’t sounding promising.
“Hart?”
“He’s my father?—”
“Who never did right by you. Him staying in the shadows, hiding, is putting Sonny and Ellie in danger. The hire is only going to keep following you around until he has what he came here for—your father’s head on a spike, by the sounds of it. We have to lure him to the motel somehow.”
Crickets.
“Hart!”
