Brian Freeman - The Bone House

'Well, it looks like someone almost cut your case short. Some cops wouldn't lose sleep over that.'

'I don't want a vigilante killing a man and his wife on the basis of rumors,' Cab replied. 'If he's guilty, I want to prove it and put him behind bars.'

Reich nodded. 'I agree.'

'Washington Island isn't a big place. No one came or went last night unless they had a big boat, right? With your history around here, I would think you'd already know who did this.'

Reich's frown lines deepened into canyons. 'You can be indifferent to authority and condescending in your own jurisdiction, Detective. Not with me. Not on my turf.'

'Fair enough, you're right. I'm sorry.'

'For your information, the truck used in the accident was stolen from an island farm. We're checking it over now. I can think of a couple dozen hotheads who know Delia Fischer and might have done this, but they're not likely to be stupid enough to admit it to me. Don't worry, I'll get them.'

'I'm sure you will.'

'Is that all you wanted, Detective? Because if so, I'm pretty busy this morning.'

'I promised to keep you up to date on my own investigation,' Cab informed him. 'We've located a couple new witnesses among the people who were at the hotel on Saturday. Apparently Glory had a big argument with her boyfriend, Troy Geier, a few hours before the murder.'

Reich snorted. 'Troy? You're wasting your time.'

'Maybe so, but he wasn't straight with me. I'm going to talk to him again.'

'What else do you have?' Reich asked.

'Another witness saw a man on the beach with a girl in the right location and time frame. They were physically involved. Based on the description, we think it was Mark Bradley. I want to talk to the witness myself, but if it pans out, it's significant. If we can combine it with DNA evidence, we'll be on the way to making a case that hangs together.'

'Excellent. I appreciate the update, Detective. As I said, my men and I are happy to help if we can.'

'There's something else,' Cab told him.

'What?'

'I ran into Hilary Bradley yesterday afternoon. She told me about Glory Fischer and the fire.' Cab nodded at the poster on Reich's wall. 'She told me about Harris Bone, too.' 'So?'

'So I'm surprised you didn't mention it to me, Sheriff,' Cab said. 'I asked if there was anything else I should know about Glory Fischer.'

'I don't see how a six-year-old crime is relevant to your investigation.'

'Harris Bone is still at large. That makes him a suspect.'

Reich shook his head dismissively. 'Harris?' A suspect? You think he just happened to be in Florida and happened to run into Glory Fischer?'

'Strange things happen. Glory saw someone she knew. We have a witness who said she looked scared.'

Reich pushed his leather chair back and got up. He kept a coffee-maker on the credenza on the opposite wall, and he poured himself a cup in an oversized mug from a restaurant called the Viking Grill. It smelled strong. He gestured at Cab with the pot, but Cab shook his head. Reich sat down and sipped his black coffee.

'What makes you think it was Harris?' Reich asked.

'Frankly, I don't believe it was. I don't believe in straw men when I've got a suspect like Mark Bradley who was out on the beach and has ties to the girl's family. However, I also know what reasonable doubt looks like, and I know what a good defense lawyer would do with this information. If I don't look into it, I'll have to explain why on the witness stand.'

'Lawyers,' Reich said, in a voice that sounded as if he was spitting. 'OK, what do you need? What can I tell you?'

'First, I need anything that can help us figure out if Harris Bone was staying at or working in the hotel in Naples under a new identity. Photos"; fingerprints, DNA, background, whatever you have.'

Reich nodded. 'My chief deputy can pull together materials for you from our files. I'll make sure you have it by noon.'

'Thank you. Second, I want to know more about him. What happened that night? What kind of man burns up his family?'

Reich studied the poster of Harris Bone on his wall, and his face darkened. 'I'll be honest with you, Harris is about the last thing in the world I want to talk about. A lot of people here were hoping we'd finally turned the page on the fire. You know what that kind of crime does to a community. The scars linger.'

'I know.'

Reich pointed at a 1960s-era photograph near the Wanted poster that showed two dirty men in uniform, their faces green with camouflage, arms around each other's shoulders. 'That's me and Pete Hoffman. Pete saved my life overseas. More than once, in fact. Harris killed Pete's daughter and two of his grandchildren, and he did it in a horrible way. Pete never got over it. It ruined his life. I don't like to see my best friend having to deal with that grief all over again.'

'I understand. If I can spare him, I will, but I can't make any promises. Right now, the biggest thing standing between me and a case against Mark Bradley is Harris Bone. It may be a distraction, but it's real.'

'I hear you. I know how the game is played.'

Cab got up and examined the photograph of Harris Bone. The man's eyes were devoid of emotion, like a robot's. He was handsome but empty. 'Did you know him well?'

'Who, Harris? Sure, he was a good-looking guy, but mousy and quiet even as a kid. I knew his parents, Lowell and Katherine; they ran a liquor store here in town. Harris took it over when Katherine died, but he didn't have much of a business sense. Pete told Nettie right from the start that the guy was a loser. Nettie didn't listen. Kids never do, right?'

Cab sat down again. 'What about his wife? What was she like?'

'Nettie was a pretty little thing. Kind of a God nut, like Pete. Church every Sunday, always reading the Bible to the three kids, hosting prayer groups at their house. Harris played along. I never knew if he believed it, or if it was just talk. You could never be sure with him. It didn't stop him from running around, either. Nettie told Pete that Harris was cheating on her. Not that I really blame him. Sounds like Nettie didn't have much interest in sex even before the accident.'

'Accident?' Cab said.

Reich nodded. 'Car accident. It was bad. Harris was driving, and Delia Fischer's husband, Arno, was in the passenger seat. The wives were in back. They'd all been out to dinner here in Sturgeon Bay and were heading home. They'd had too much to drink. Harris lost control on a slick curve and drove into a tree, full speed. Arno died. Nettie wound up in a wheelchair. Delia was lucky, just a couple broken bones. Same with Harris. After that, Nettie was even worse. She made life hell for Harris.'

'Wait a minute, are you saying Glory Fischer lost her father in that accident?' Cab asked. 'Harris Bone killed her father?'

'Yeah. Some families get lucky, and some just keep getting hit by lightning. That's Delia. You can understand why I want that woman to get some justice for her daughters.'

'This makes it a hell of a lot harder to do that,' Cab told him. 'The more connections between the Bones and the Fischers, the more a jury might wonder if Glory really did see Harris at the hotel that night. It gives her an extra reason to want to see him captured. And to be afraid of him.'

Reich scoffed. 'These families were neighbors. They lived across the street from one another. Their kids played together. That's all it was. Glory was too young to understand that her father's death had anything to do with Harris. Even Delia didn't blame him. They'd all been drinking.'

Cab wasn't convinced. 'Go on,' he said. 'What about the fire?'

'What do you want to know? You want me to psychoanalyze the son of a bitch? He set the fire and then watched it burn like it was some kind of backyard barbecue. Nettie and the boys died. If it wasn't for Delia, Jen would have died, too.'