There were several throughout the room. None of them were on and along the lower part of the walls several junction boxes were open, exposing wires that had been capped with wire nuts and taped up with black electrical tape.
“I got permits,” Saul blurted out as Josie stopped in front of one of the junction boxes. “The electrician is almost done with the rewiring. That’s why everything’s open. He called out sick today so I gotta wait, but everything’s by the book.”
It was the first hint of overt nervousness on his part.
Saul Vought did not want any trouble. Seventeen years in prison would do that to a man. Josie turned and gave him a reassuring smile. “Of course. Well, I can see you’re very busy with this place, so we won’t waste much more of your time.”
It was a lie. Josie wasn’t leaving until she got some admission from him that would give them enough probable cause for a search warrant of this house, but Saul didn’t need to know that.
“Appreciate that,” Saul said.
Gretchen peered down at a pile of tools on the other side of the room. Behind Saul’s back, she gave a quick nod. Josie followed her gaze all the way to the floor and watched as Gretchen used the toe of her sneaker to nudge a familiar little container. Josie had seen one just like it in Hummel’s domain.
Wood putty.
While Gretchen knelt to get a look at the color, Josie kept Saul’s attention on her. “When’s the last time you spoke with Griffin Holt?”
The movement of Saul’s hands grew faster. “Oh, not since he was a kid. You know, I’m not sure what he’s done or what he’s told you that I did but I was in prison for almost twenty years.I’m trying to get right. Last thing I need is that kid dragging me into his shit.”
Gretchen stretched to her full height and mouthed the wordsred mahogany.
A flutter of anticipation erupted in Josie’s chest. “That’s the thing, Mr. Vought,” she said. “Griffin and his sister, Reina, thought you were dead.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Oh. Well, I suppose I was, for all intents and purposes. I haven’t had contact with those kids or their mama in decades, and I’m not starting now. Whatever they’re saying about me ain’t true. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a lot of work to do today.”
Before Josie or Gretchen could respond, the sconces on Josie’s side of the room flickered briefly. Saul’s brows drew together. For a long moment, none of them spoke. Then the sconces flickered again, more rapidly this time.
“Aw, shit,” Saul sighed. He walked over to the nearest one and touched it. Over his shoulder, he said, “I swear it’s safe. The electrician told me it wasn’t a fire hazard. Everything’s tied off. I can call someone else though, if you want, get them out here on an emergency call or something. Son of a bitch. I really can’t have this place burning down.”
Gretchen said, “Mr. Vought, we’re not here to discuss the legality or the safety of the renovation you’re doing. I’m more interested in why you think the Holt children thought you were dead for the past twenty years.”
Reluctantly, he turned from the sconce, his concern over the integrity of the wiring morphing into anger. “You’re here to ask me about something that went down all the way back then? I told you, whatever that boy said about me, he’s lying.”
“Griffin hasn’t accused you of anything,” Josie told him. He hadn’t had a chance to since they’d left him on the floor of the visitation room.
After learning about Saul and his past, Josie had called Reina Torres to confirm some of the things Griffin had revealed. She had been a lot more forthcoming, especially knowing her cooperation would help her brother avoid murder charges. “His sister, on the other hand, said that one night you forced her mother to put on a wedding dress because you were going to make her elope. Elope or you’d kill the children, I believe she said.”
Saul shook his head vigorously, working the rag over the now-shiny surface of the knob. “I said no such thing. Those kids were always trouble. I don’t know why you’re asking me about ancient history, but you can’t believe nothing them kids tell you.”
“Reina said that the elopement never happened. Instead, Liora returned alone, covered in blood.”
The crimson bride.
“She told them you had died in a car accident.” Gretchen rocked back and forth over a creaky floorboard. “Then they all lived happily ever after. Well, until recently.”
Saul’s prison intake information noted a handful of tattoos but also several scars on his scalp, forehead, and around his eyes. From where Josie stood, she could see them but just barely. “Liora did a number on you,” she said. “Didn’t she? What’d she use? Baseball bat? Tree branch?”
“Tire iron?” Gretchen put in.
“Don’t know what you’re going on about,” Saul said as the sconces nearest Josie flickered again. Cursing under his breath, he set the doorknob and rag onto the floor and strode to the nearest open junction box, quickly checking the tape wrapped around each wire nut.
“Liora beat you up pretty bad,” Josie continued. “Thought she’d left you for dead. But you were just licking your wounds, weren’t you?”
Satisfied the wires were safe, he picked up his knob and rag once more, the movements of his hands hard and rhythmic. “Liora was always crazy as hell. Those kids thought I was so bad, but I was only trying to keep her in check. I could have gone to the police, you know.”
“You never once considered going to the police,” Gretchen said.
Saul faced her and tapped the side of his head where a thin scar peeked from beneath his thinning hair, long and faded. “She tried to kill me. I could have put her in jail as soon as my buddy found me and took me to the hospital.”
