Chapter 5

Emerson found the next day rather like the last. It wasn’t unpleasant to awaken in the motel and to walk down to the coffee shop across the way. It was likewise ordinary to get into his car and drive the miles up the winding valley road into the woods behind her house and wait for an appearance of bobbing red hair. It therefore did not surprise him when he returned to the motel at sundown to find the fire marshal waiting for him.

“Good evening,” he said politely.

“Good evening,” the man responded, though his tongue seemed to form the words more clumsily than Emerson had.

“What can I do for you, sir?” Em asked.

“We just wanted to ask you a few more questions, if you don’t mind,” the man said, nudging his companion.

“Not at all,” the young man agreed at once. “Please come in.”

He shoved clothes off the nearest bed, but the two men looked uncomfortable at the prospect of sitting on it. They stood while he sat and tried not to itch for a cigarette.

“So,” the marshal said as an introduction. “We have reason to believe the fire was set intentionally.”

“Oh?” he said blandly, keeping his face impassive as his desire to smoke intensified.

“The house was recently emptied off all worldly possessions.”

“Indeed,” Emerson said.

“And the fire began at the base of the house, the cause of which is known to be lit cigarettes.”

“Mm,” he intoned.

“Sir,” said the second man, “are you aware that intentionally starting a fire is a criminal act and punishable by state law?”

“I would suspect as much,” Emerson said, remaining as polite as possible.

“It is reckless endangerment to the surrounding houses and people,” the marshal said.

“I would imagine,” their suspect said.

“It is therefore our duty to ask you if you have any enemies, any person who you believe would want to cause you harm or pain by seeking to destroy your home?”

Emerson’s lips twitched. “That’s a very interesting question,” he said. “I don’t know, but I would say it is possible that I have enemies, even ones I don’t know about. Everyone seems to.”

“What about your close friends and family?” the man pressed. “Would they have enemies who might consider a rash act such as arson?”

“I don’t know,” Emerson said honestly. “It would be a short list of people, I’m sure. I doubt that Mei has ever met anyone other than my mother who disliked her.”

“Who is May?” the man asked, scribbling something in his notepad.

“Oh, she’s the housekeeper.”

“And where is she now?”

“She’s on vacation since the beginning of the month. Gets back the fifteenth, I believe.”

He made a few more notes and then closed his book. “Sir, at this time it is also my duty to inform you that you are a person of interest in this ongoing investigation, and that until such a time as this case is closed, you are to remain in town. Do you have any questions for me?”

“No, thank you,” Emerson said, giving up a half-smile.

“Then we will be on our way, and see you again.”

“Good night,” he said, getting up and following them to the motel door. He watched as they departed, offering a friendly wave as they left. Then he locked himself inside his room and fished a cigarette from his pocket. This was getting to be a bit more complicated than he had expected. As long as he did not want the insurance money, why were they making such a big deal of this? He supposed it was their job, but it still annoyed him. He would probably have had to get some permit to demolish the house. Perhaps he should have done that. It was too late now; what was done was done. Emerson lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply.

His dark secret would remain so. He would see to it at any cost.

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