Maybe he had.
He showed Lauren the picture of the missing actor, without saying who it was.
“A.J. and I see a lot of people in our work,” she said. “I don’t remember this man.”
Her husband joined them and glanced at the actor’s smiling face. A.J. didn’t recognize Stevens, either. “We have the Secret Service breathing down our necks as it is with the Neals coming for winter fest.” His expression turned flinty. “Unless they cancel, given this latest violence.”
Nick slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I hope the police will have some definitive answers by then.”
The flintiness didn’t let up. “You attend fancy parties in Beverly Hills. Could you have run into this actor at one of them?”
“Possibly, but I don’t have any specific recollection of ever having met him. I’m not great with faces. Sometimes Hollywood types come to us for information on smoke jumping and wildland fires.” Nick sipped his wine and observed Rose, her eyes a deep blue in the ballroom’s soft light as she, Myrtle and Lauren went over logistics for the silent auction. He turned back to A.J. “I wish I could be more help.”
“I spoke to Sean. He and Grit Taylor went up to the site where the arson investigator was killed. His death is the reason you came out here, isn’t it?” A.J. didn’t give Nick a chance to answer. “Could Robert Feehan be this serial arsonist you’re after?”
“I’m not with law enforcement, A.J.,” Nick said. “I’m not here on any kind of official business. If my presence is putting anyone in danger, I’ll clear out. I won’t stay.”
The eldest Cameron seemed satisfied. “Fair enough. If Feehan’s mixed up with illegal prescription drugs, that could explain why he’s avoiding the police.”
“He could also be afraid he’s next on the killer’s list.”
A.J. sighed heavily. “If he’s innocent, running only makes his situation worse. He needs to talk to the police and get it over with.”
The two little Camerons were now racing around in circles in the wide, open space. Lauren kept a watchful eye on them. A.J. went to them, handing his wife a glass of wine. Nick watched the young family, pushing back a wave of regret and guilt that he knew would get him nowhere. He had anticipated a certain amount of awkwardness on his trip to Black Falls, given his situation with Rose, but he hadn’t expected to run into violence. He’d figured he’d talk to the lead investigators into Lowell Whittaker’s network about Jasper’s death, check out the Whittaker estate and Cameron Mountain.
Instead not only had he run into violence, he could very easily have caused it just by coming here.
Zack Harper scooped up a glass of wine as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Looks as if your theory about Coleman fuel in a kerosene lamp’s right on target. Some poor unknowing bastard wanders by with a match and that’s it.” He drank some of his wine. “Not pretty. Feehan must have figured the Whittaker guesthouse was the last place anyone would look for him.”
“Assuming what we found wasn’t planted there,” Rose said, holding a glass of wine in one hand as she joined them.
“Is that what you think?” Zack asked.
“I’m just trying to keep an open mind.”
“You don’t have to. You’re not investigating the case.”
Brett Griffin entered the ballroom, still wearing his parka. He looked tentative, his fair cheeks and nose red from the cold. “The woman at the front desk said you all were down here. I just finished talking to the police. I was taking night shots up at Four Corners.” He didn’t seem to be addressing anyone in particular. “I’d heard rumors about drugs but I had nothing to go on. No evidence to take to the police. I didn’t want to get anyone into trouble over rumors.”
Zack drank some of his wine. “Think that’s what all this is about? A fight between friends over drugs?”
Clearly it wasn’t what Zack believed. Nick glanced at Rose, but she just kept a tight grip on her wineglass and said nothing.
Brett shifted to her. “There’s one more thing I wanted to mention. I didn’t want to get into it before—but now…” Red spots blossomed high on his cheeks. “Derek told me he blamed you for how he lost control last year at O’Rourke’s. The fight hurt his reputation. He felt bad Bowie got arrested. I didn’t want to say anything before now because it just didn’t seem to matter. There was no point.”
“Are you suggesting he wanted to get back at me for what happened?” Rose asked quietly.
Brett glanced around the ballroom as if he were looking for someone to help him.
“Brett,” Rose said, prodding him.
“If Derek felt under pressure—threatened for some reason—I think he’d have tried to strike back at you if he could.”
Rose maintained a neutral expression. “Yesterday morning Robert said Derek didn’t want to hurt me. He said Derek was upset because Nick was here.”
Brett’s cheeks reddened even more. “He would say that, don’t you think? He’d want to divert attention from himself. Never mind. I’m not making any sense.”
Nick noticed perspiration on Brett’s forehead but he kept his coat on. “Does Feehan have the knowledge and capability to pull off the fire that killed Cutshaw?” Nick asked.
“I don’t know,” Brett said in a low voice.
“What about Cutshaw?”
Brett turned ashen and didn’t answer.
Zack Harper shrugged and polished off the last of his wine, setting the glass on the table. “How much knowledge does it take to set yourself or someone else on fire?”
Rose turned to Brett, and Nick noticed she was slightly pale herself. “Do you have any idea where Robert could be now?” she asked.
Brett wiped his sweaty brow with the heel of his hand and shook his head. “I told the state detective who interviewed me that I’d let them know if Robert contacts me, or if I remember anything else—friends, favorite spots.”
Rose stayed focused on him. “How well did you all know the Whittakers?”
“I didn’t know them at all. I’m not sure about Derek or Robert.”
“I suppose it’s possible Robert stayed at the guesthouse but the Whittakers left the old kerosene lamp there, and he just used it. Did any of you have a key?”
“I didn’t,” Brett said.
“The apartment where we found the camping gear is the one Kyle Rigby used in November. Could Rigby have given Robert or Derek a key?”
“I don’t remember ever running into Rigby,” Brett said, frowning. “The police asked me about him. Robert, Derek and I talked about what happened in November. Of course we did. I don’t think they knew Rigby, either.”
“What about contacts in California?” Nick asked.
Brett seemed surprised by the question. “We all know people in California. We’ve all taught skiing out West. I’ve taken up enough of your time. You all have a good night. I’m sorry about all this. I wish I’d known what was going on and had found out a way to stop it from happening.”
Nick set his wineglass on a tray as Brett Griffin and Zack Harper left together. Rose rejoined Myrtle at the table and consulted drafting paper they had unfurled with drawings for how to set up the ballroom for the winter fest auction and dance. Nick had no doubt Myrtle had listened in on as much of the conversation as she could.
Lauren Cameron smiled faintly next to him and nodded to her husband across the room, their children chasing him, giggling as he let them catch him. “A.J. hates for any of us to be out of his sight.”
“Understandably,” Nick said.
“Maybe so,” she said, “but I refuse to live in fear. I did that before I moved up here. A.J.’s actually the one who helped me get past my fear. I was escaping a difficult relationship. I thought I had it well behind me, but it had an insidious effect on my ability to trust myself. Here I was, a strong woman…” She didn’t finish. “Matters of the heart sometimes require the greatest strength of all.”