«Are we to take it there is a problem elsewhere?»
«Er-well-«He shuffled his feet, then glanced down quickly to see if he tracked in mud. «I'm afraid, yes, there is.»
«Oh, for pity's sake!» Shelby snapped as she poured herself a second cup of coffee. «Spit it out.»
She sat in Gifford's place at the head of the table, prim and lovely in a green silk dressing gown, her hair twisted neatly in back, looking as if an explosion and fire were nothing to disturb her normal daily routine.
York swallowed hard. «Well, I was just on the scene with the fire marshal, as y'all know, and there seems to be little doubt but that this was arson.»
«Arson?» Serena said in disbelief, a chill going through her. She shook her head, rejecting the possibility and all its ramifications. «No. It was lightning.»
York looked woebegone. «Ah-well-begging your pardon, Miss Sheridan, it wasn't. The fire was deliberately set. There really isn't any question of it. It was quite a sloppy job. You see,» he said, becoming more animated at the prospect of sharing some of his expertise, «there was one big hot spot in the southwest corner of the shed and trailers leading out from it. That is to say, lines indicating a fuel path. There was alligatoring in the charred wood, giving the indication of rapid, intense heat, and signs of spalling in the concrete floor. It's very apparent that someone poured gasoline or a like substance all around and simply lit it up. And from what we could tell by the remains of the one tractor, a fuel path led directly to it. I'd have to say someone meant it to blow up.»
Serena sat back in her chair, pressing one hand to her lips and banding the other arm across her aching ribs. No one at the table said anything. She looked across at the chair Len Burke had occupied the night before, eating their food, drinking their wine, telling them that Gifford would have to be persuaded to sell-one way or another.
«You understand that until this matter is cleared up, my company won't be able to make a payment on your claim, I'm afraid. I'm sorry,» Mr. York said, sounding reluctant once again. Delivering bad news was evidently not his forte. He squeezed his clipboard. «I really am sorry.»
«Mr. York,» Mason said, mustering a faint version of his affable politician's smile. «Surely you don't believe one of the family is responsible for this horrible crime?»
«Oh, no, well-er-that isn't my place to judge. There will have to be a full investigation, you understand.»
«But Mr. York,» Serena said, trying to pull her mind away from thoughts of Burke, «some of that equipment will have to be replaced immediately. How do you suggest we do that if your company isn't going to make good on the claim?»
York appeared to give earnest thought to the question, making a series of faces that caused the soot smudge on his forehead to wriggle like a shadow puppet. Finally he looked her in the eye and she thought he might burst into tears. «I don't know,» he said. «I'm sorry. Really I am.»
After several more rounds of questions, explanations, and apologies, the claims adjuster took his leave to have a second look at the rubble with John Mason hot on his heels.
«What a horrid little man,» Shelby said, selecting a muffin from the basket Odille brought in as if it were her most important task of the day. «No wonder his wife is having an affair with the vice president of the bank.»
Serena shot her a look. «Shelby, for heaven's sake, we have more pressing issues to discuss.»
«Serena's right, sweetheart,» Mason said gently.
«What's an affair?» little Lacey asked, staring owlishly up at her mother.
Shelby beamed a smile and stroked a hand over her daughter's blond curls. «That's something cheap, trashy women do, darling. No need to worry your pretty head about it.»
«E-vil,» Odille intoned dramatically, drawing back from the table with the empty coffee urn clutched in her long, bony hands. Her turquoise eyes burned like blue flame, settling on each face in turn. «Dat's what come dis house. E-vil. Lord have mercy on us all.»
On that ominous note she backed out of the room, her thin mouth stretched into a line of supreme disapproval.
«My God,» Shelby sniffed in affront, pulling together the lapels of her dressing gown. «I don't know why Gifford keeps that woman on.»
«She's a witch,» Lacey said nonchalantly, reaching for a muffin. She dug one out of the basket and scampered out of the room, calling for her brother.
Serena rubbed her temples and sighed. «Arson. Your Mr. Burke sending Gifford a little warning?»
There was a beat of stunned silence, then Mason came to life.
«Oh, Serena, you can't possibly believe Len Burke had anything to do with this!» he said with an incredulous laugh. «Mr. Burke is a respectable businessman representing a respectable company. You can't honestly believe he's an arsonist!»
Serena looked at her sister and brother-in-law with grave eyes. «Well, I certainly wouldn't want to believe the alternative.»
«That one of us might have done it?» Mason said, arching a brow above his glasses. «Really, Serena, you've been spending too much time with your patients; you've becoming paranoid. Shelby and I were in bed. I don't mind saying I highly resent your entertaining such an insulting notion. Just because we're in favor of selling doesn't mean we'd burn the place to the ground.»
«My stars, Serena, is that what you really think of us?» Shelby said, her agitation building visibly as she stirred sugar into her coffee. Dots of color bloomed on her perfect cheekbones; her mouth tightened into a thin line. She glared at her sister, her demeanor of calm vanishing as instantly as mist. «Accusing your own sister and brother-in-law! I don't know what's become of you up in Charleston. You're like a stranger to us!»
Serena pressed two fingers to her temples and sighed heavily. She was battered and exhausted. She felt as if all her tools for dealing with people had been stripped away from her. Certainly her energy for dealing with her twin's endless dramatic mood swings had been.
«Shelby, can we please dispense with the constant theatrics?» she said through her teeth. «I didn't mean to accuse you. I was only saying that Mr. Burke would stand to benefit by this fire. It could have been set as a warning or with the express purpose of destroying the machinery. Either way, Gifford is out of money he can't afford to lose.»
«Well, I think it's preposterous,» Shelby pronounced indignantly. «I find Mr. Burke perfectly charming.»
Serena couldn't find the strength to roll her eyes.
«The fire might not have had anything to do with the sale of the property,» Mason pointed out. «Gifford has cultivated his share of enemies over the years. Why, not a month ago he had to let go of some of his hired men. It caused hard feelings, I can tell you. Then again, plenty of people stand to gain by Tristar coming here, Serena,» he said, contemplating his coffee. «This is a small town; I imagine word is out by now. Gifford is preventing people from getting jobs. Someone might have decided to persuade him to change his mind.»
Serena pushed herself up from the table, her eyes on Mason, an unpleasant smile turning the corners of her mouth. «My, what an interesting choice of words.»
«What are you going to do?» Shelby asked, looking up at her with suspicion.
«First, I'm going to take a long, hot shower. Then I'm going to go out into the swamp and get Gifford to come back here if I have to drag him by his hair.»
Lapsing into unconsciousness seemed like a more attractive choice, but Serena didn't see that she could afford the luxury of sleep. Forcing herself to plant one foot in front of the other, she pushed open the dining room door and left.
Shelby stared after her, waiting in breathless silence for the sound of a door down the hall closing.
«Well, that's just wonderful,» she said sulkily. «She's going to bring Gifford back here. That's all we need. Damn her, why couldn't she just stay out of this?'