Hell In Texas

By Meredith Rae Morgan

Bev Deller ("After the Fire" and "Marathon Nightmare") is back. This time she investigates a suspicious fire that destroyed the home of an iconic country music star -- while juggling a budding romance with fire chief, Ed Casey, and embarking on a new job after nearly 30 years with Midwestern Indemnity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Meredith Rae Morgan
• Release date: Mar 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458029102

Meredith Rae Morgan

Meredith Morgan is a pseudonym, my professional and online identity. I write novels for and about strong women and self-publish them as eBooks on Smashwords.I was raised in the Midwest but have roots in the Deep South. I have lived in Florida for the past fifteen years. I tend to alternate the settings for my stories between all three places. From that experience, I've discovered that I love Southern women, Midwestern men and I'm fascinated (in a weird and scary kind of way) by the people I've encountered in Florida, most of whom are from other places.Besides writing, my passions are walking the beach, reading and cooking. For a more detailed bio, see my website.A Note from MeredithTo those of you who have taken the time to send emails and/or write reviews: Thank you so very much! I truly appreciate your feedback.Meredith

Book preview

HELL IN TEXAS

by

Meredith Rae Morgan

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Meredith Morgan

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter 1

The magnificent ranch house that had often been featured in architectural and home design magazines was reduced to a pile of rubble and ash, with its enormous marble fireplace, charred but still standing, in one corner. The local fire chief handed Bev Deller and her fire expert a folder containing photos of the exterior and interior of the house before the fire. It had been a showplace that had cost $8.5 million to build. Furnished, it was insured for in excess of $17 million. Based on the photos Bev worried that it might be under-insured.

The chief launched into a monologue, reviewing the time line of events that led up to the fire. He explained that at the time the fire started the owner, Walker Trent, was at his fishing camp in Tennessee. His ex-wife was in Nashville attending a charity function. Their daughter was away at college and their son was at home in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Bev looked up from the photos, Wait a minute. Do you mean the house was vacant?

The fire chief shook his head. It wasn't exactly vacant. There's a caretaker who stays on the property and housekeepers come in daily to keep it clean and ready just in case Walker decides to visit, but nobody lives in the house any more. The family lived here full time for several years after they build the place, but when the Trents' marriage started to fall apart, Walker moved out and spent most of his time either working in Nashville or hiding out in his cabin near Gatlinburg. Tamra continued to live here with the kids. It went on like that for several years, but, when they finally got around to getting a divorce, Walker refused to let her keep this house. He gave her the house in Charlotte and a vacation home in Aspen, but he insisted on keeping this place. As far as anybody knows he hasn't set foot in it since.

How long ago was the divorce?

A year or so.

Bev checked her copy of the policy and verified that it did, indeed, indicate that the house was vacant. It was equipped with a central station fire alarm and the file noted that someone on the staff checked the house daily. She studied the pictures of a beautiful home nestled among trees near a small stream in the rolling hills of East Texas. It was huge and expensive, but there was something about the house that seemed both inviting and homey. Who are these people who are so rich and have so many houses they can just walk away from a place like this and not use it?

Walker Trent is the owner.

Bev gave the chief a blank look. I'm supposed to recognize that name, right?

He laughed, You obviously don't follow country music.

No. I'm the kind of a snobby jazz/blues purist who's favorite singer died decades ago. I don't mind certain bluegrass music, but I'm not much for contemporary country.

Ben Tucker, the fire expert, said, Oh, for God's sake, Bev. Even I've heard of Walker Trent. He's like some kind of icon in the country music world.

Okay, so I'm culturally ignorant. I'll look him up on Google. I get the picture that he's rich. Does he have enemies?

The chief shrugged, Most rich people have some enemies, sometimes enemies they don't even know about. Almost all famous people are subject to attack or stalking from kooks. Trent is a kind of good-old-boy country star. He had a spell with the bottle a few years ago, but straightened up. He's not a womanizer or hell-raiser. As far as I know he's very well thought of in the country music world. This is his home town and the people here love him, mainly for all the money he brought into the area by building this big house and living here. He put Everly on the map. His biggest known enemy is Tamra Sterman Trent, his ex-wife. But, there could be others.

Was the divorce bitter?

"Very. It was interesting – mostly I know this from the papers and from local gossip – their marriage always appeared perfect from the outside. They made a lot of public appearances together, sometimes with the kids. They were a beautiful couple who had been married more than 20 years. Suddenly right after their 20th anniversary, Walker moved out. No one outside of the family knows why. There have been all kinds of rumors, but both Walker and Tamra have played it close to the chest. His official residence is a house in Nashville that is almost as nice as this one was, but they say he spends as much time as he can in a cabin in the Smokies. Their separation shocked the country music world. I shouldn't have to tell you how much it freaked out the locals around here.

They were separated for a few months and then Tamra filed for divorce alleging abandonment and emotional cruelty. It took a long time to finalize the settlement. The rumors flew around that it was a very bitter fight.

Bev raised one eyebrow. Don't tell me. The issue was money.

The divorce settlement is confidential, but that has been the general opinion.

While Bev and the fire chief were talking, Ben Tucker walked around the ruin in gradually tightening circles taking pictures. From time to time, he took a plastic baggie out of his pack, picked up something from the ground and put it in the baggie. He numbered each one, and labeled it as to where it came from. He put the baggie down where he had picked up the sample and photographed it. The fire chief jerked his chin in Tucker's direction, Appears his reputation is accurate.

She grinned. He's the best in the business. But don't tell him I said so.

I'm surprised you can afford him. Insurance companies don't usually like to hire high-priced experts.

He's originally from Dayton, Ohio. He did a lot of work for Midwestern Casualty when he was young and new to the business. We've worked together for twenty years. He gives my company special rates, which are still higher than we pay anybody else, but he'd be worth it at twice the price. She chuckled and winked, But don't tell him I said that, either.

Tucker walked over to Bev, flipping through the fire department's report, and said, I might as well go home. This was clearly arson. There wasn't even any attempted to cover it up. The outside of the house, including the shrubbery, was soaked in gasoline. Four first floor windows were broken. Traces of melted milk jugs that had contained gasoline were found inside each of the windows. My guess is that the perpetrator doused the outside of the house, tossed in a few very large unlit Molotov cocktails – based on the speed that the fire spread, I'm guessing analysis will show that there were other chemical accelerants mixed in – and then set fire to the outside. The flames entered through the broken windows. The bottles of accelerant inside exploded, causing the fire to spread fast and hot. The whole building burned to the ground in only a couple of hours. Since there was nobody here, it was almost completely destroyed before the first fire truck arrived.

Bev looked at the fire chief, You said there was a central station alarm. Why did it take so long for the pumpers to get here.

The chief nodded, The alarm went off, but this is a big county. The fire department is in Poston. I live almost in the outskirts of San Antonio. I got here about an hour after I received the call. The fire truck beat me by ten minutes. By the time I got here the fire had almost burned itself out.

Bev asked, If there was gasoline all over the outside of the house and shrubbery, why wasn't there a grass fire?

Tucker said, I think the fire inside the house was so hot it created a vacuum that didn't let the fire outside spread.

The fire chief said, That, combined with the fact that it had rained for several days in a row earlier in the week, and the ground was soaked.

The three of them walked around the ruin one more time. Bev said to Tucker, Okay, so it's arson. Who set it? Mr. Trent? Or someone else?

He shrugged, and said, I'll take these samples back to the lab and see what I come up with. He looked at the fire chief, Any chance your guys would be willing to share some of their samples and photos with me?

The chief laughed and said, You can have anything you want. If Ms. Deller's company doesn't pay off on this fire, everybody and their brother is going to get sued. I want this to be a totally clean investigation.

Tucker handed the chief his card, and said, Have them send samples and photos to me at this address. The sooner the better.

Bev asked, Where's the nearest motel where I can set up shop?

There's a Hampton Inn about 10 miles east, at Poston. He added, I don't know that you'll be here long. Nobody here knows anything.

Bev pursed her lips and said, This is a very rural area, dotted with small towns. I'm from a similar area in Ohio. In the rural farming communities near Stanforth, no strange cars or people come or go without somebody noticing. Usually several somebodies, in fact. I'm guessing the same is true here.

The chief nodded, You're absolutely right about that. Everybody around here knows everybody else's business, sometimes before they know it their selves. But, it's strange. My guys have asked around all the gas stations and coffee shops in the county. Nobody saw any strangers. We think the fire started around 11:00 PM. The pumper arrived around midnight. I got here a few minutes after that. Sunset had been at 6:00 PM. There was time for someone to drive from San Antonio or maybe even Galveston, in the dark. They could have driven straight to the ranch, without stopping for gas or coffee, set the fire at 11:00, and then drove back to where they came from without anybody noticing.

Bev nodded, That's certainly possible. But they had to get the accelerant gasoline from somewhere.

We think they brought it with them from outside.

Bev asked, Where does the caretaker live? Did he see anything unusual?

He has a bungalow about a mile and a half from the main house, but as it happens he was out of town the weekend of the fire attending a family wedding in Houston. He didn't even know about the fire until he saw it on the news the next morning.

Tucker said, Whoever set this fire made no effort to hide the fact that this house was intentionally torched.

Bev continued the thought, Could the fire have been a message to somebody? I'm wondering if the person who set the fire could be a hired third party.

The chief nodded and said, That's been my initial working theory.

Bev chewed on the inside of her cheek and muttered, But that doesn't tell us the content of the message or who the intended recipient may have been?

She flipped through her notes and bounced the eraser end of her pencil against her note pad, The obvious first hypothesis is that the ex-wife burned the house in revenge for her husband refusing to give it to her in the divorce. She looked up at the chief. Have you interviewed her?

No. She's back in North Carolina now. I spoke to her on the phone. She said her lawyer told her to tell me she knew nothing about the fire. She has no interest in the ranch and nothing to be gained from the fire. Therefore, she has nothing to say.

What about Mr. Trent?

At the time of the fire, he was in Gatlinburg at his retreat, rehearsing for an upcoming record tour. His assistant told us that his attorney says he's willing to talk to us, but we have to come to Tennessee. He doesn't have time to come here to tell us that he doesn't know anything about the fire. His story is that the fire is a tragedy because he loved this home for many years before it started to build up bad memories. He says there is no reason for him to interrupt his work and come down here to see it. I don't have travel money in my budget to allow me to go half way across the country to get a statement that tells me nothing.

Bev looked at Ben Tucker with a puzzled expression. Don't you think that's odd? Most home owners want to see the fire site, if only to confirm the reality of the loss.

The fire chief interrupted, Yeah, it seemed strange to us, too, but remember, Walker hadn't set foot on this ranch in a couple of years. Rich people like that often simply lose interest in a piece of property and move on.

Bev asked, You got a lot of really rich people in this area?

Yeah. This county is a weird mixture of poor Mexicans, middle class folks who commute to San Antonio but like living in the country and really rich people, including several country singers and a couple of movie actors, who have ranches here. I've seen people like that spend millions on a home, and then simply abandon it until somebody buys it, often for much less than it is worth.

Bev twirled her pencil like a majorette. There was something about what he said that made some logical sense, but her gut was telling her that things were not adding up.

Bev thanked the chief and asked Tucker where he was staying. He chuckled, saying, I guess I'm staying at the same Hampton Inn as you. It's too late to get a flight back to San Francisco tonight. Besides, I have the feeling you're yearning for my company tonight at dinner.

I wouldn't use the word 'yearning', but since we're both stuck out here, I figure we'd might as well make the most of it. She turned to the chief, Where do you recommend we have dinner.

"If you want barbecue, the brisket at Walter's Bar-B-Q is as good as it gets in these parts. We also have a couple of good Mexican places, Tia Carmelita is the best. You might be surprised to learn that we have a very good Vietnamese restaurant here as well. A local guy married a Vietnamese girl back in the Seventies. She opened a restaurant and it's been in business ever since. It's the weirdest combination of Texas redneck food and Vietnamese ethnic food you could possibly imagine, but it's all good."

Ben said, Vietnamese cuisine is my all-time favorite.

Bev said, I'm not familiar with it. So maybe you can educate me. Seems a shame not to eat barbecue in Texas, but I'm up for something different.

The chief gave them directions, and they parted ways.

They checked into their rooms and agreed to meet in half an hour for dinner. They were both in the lobby in closer to twenty minutes. They headed for the Vietnamese place, and ordered Vietnamese beer. Tucker was a Vietnam veteran, and he ordered a beer he remembered from his days in Saigon. Bev asked for the same. The waitress asked her what she wanted for dinner. She smiled, I know nothing about Vietnamese cuisine. I like spicy food. I don't eat much meat. Chicken or shrimp is okay, but I prefer vegetarian dishes. Why don't you have the cook make me some kind of vegetable dish that he or she likes.

The waitress looked positively thrilled. She jotted something on her pad and then glanced at Ben. He said, I'll have Pho with chicken. As hot as your cook will make it.

The waitress laughed, Mom's gonna love taking care of you two. You might as well plan on being here for a while. You're probably gonna get a few courses.

Bev said, We're on an expense account, but it's not unlimited.

The waitress said, Don't worry. This place is super cheap. You'll eat well and not break the bank.

When she had gone to the kitchen, Bev asked Ben, What do you think?

I think that somebody burned your insured's house down.

She laughed. Okay, that much we know. Now, we have to figure out who did it, so I know whether or not I can pay my insured. How do you propose we proceed?

I plan to go home and start generating computer models. I think you'd better start interviewing potential witnesses.

Bev pulled a note pad out of her brief case, and reviewed her notes. The local fire investigators have done a poor job. Well, actually, they've done no job at all. They have not talked to neighbors to see what they know. They have not interviewed the insured. They've simply taken his word over the phone that he doesn't know anything. Looks like the only thing they did do was visit a few gas stations and convenience stores to see if anybody saw any strangers.

Tucker interrupted, You're probably not going to get an interview with the insured either. The chief already told us Trent has a lawyer.

If the insured wants his $18 million, he'll cooperate with me. When are you leaving?

I'm flying out of San Antonio tomorrow morning early. Are you going to Nashville?

I'm going to stick around here for a few days. I want to hang out in coffee shops and chat up the locals. Sometimes people know things they don't know is significant. It may be difficult to get them to talk to me, what with me being an insurance adjuster and a damned Yankee – I'm not sure which one is worse – but I have to try. After that, I'll head for Nashville, or wherever the insured is at that point. I also plan to visit with an attorney in San Antonio who my boss thinks walks on water.

About then, the waitress brought the first course of what was to be a memorable evening for both of them. Bev fell in love with Vietnamese food when the delicate spices started dancing in her mouth.

The next morning, Bev stopped by a local coffee shop for breakfast and bought both the San Antonio paper and a local weekly. She scanned the papers and then sipped her coffee while jotting notes on her 'to do' list.

The waitress, who Bev instantly thought of as Flo, asked, You the insurance adjuster?

Yes. How did you know?

The lady shrugged, It's a small town. Word went out yesterday that a the adjuster arrived to investigate the fire. A Yankee woman stranger shows up here this morning. I make a wild guess.

Bev laughed, You're a crack investigator. You can have my job! She looked at the woman for a long time and asked, Who do you think I should talk to?

For what?

I have to figure out who set the fire.

Why? Ain't that the cops' job?

The fire investigator and I will work together.

What's it matter to you who set it?

Because if the owner of the property set the fire, our policy won't pay anything.

You think Walker Trent burned his own house down? I think you're wrong.

I don't know who burned it, but it's my job to find out. If Mr. Trent burned it, I won't pay for the damage. If somebody else burned it, I will write Mr. Trent a check with a whole lot of zeros.

Bev leaned forward and cocked her head to the side, Why don't you think Mr. Trent did it?

The waitress exhaled, making a disgusted sound, and looked at Bev as though she was an idiot. Walker loved that place. Granted, he ain't been around for a while. Locals figure that he kind of got turned off on the house after he and Tamra got divorced. This was kind of their dream home and love nest. After the divorce, he didn't come around much. I expected him to sell it.

You know the Trents?

I knew Walker when he was young, before he went off to Nashville and got rich and famous. He grew up a few miles from here. He was a little younger than me, but we went to school together. My best friend dated him in high school. When he came back years later and built that big house, he used to come in here sometimes for coffee. We'd talk about old times. I always thought he was okay. Even when he was young, he was kinda strange, though.

In what way?

Well, he ain't what I'd call bashful, but he don't like to be around people much. He's kind of a loner. They say that these days he spends most of his time at a cabin on a crick in the mountains. When he lived here, he didn't socialize much. My friend broke up with him because he didn't want to go to the Homecoming dance her senior year. His idea of a great date was to go to a movie or, better, sit around the house and listen to records. My friend liked to go out to parties and dances.

What do you know about his wife?

"She wasn't from around here. By the

Reviews for Hell In Texas

[amywaters · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Strong female presence. Interesting story. Wish I could have seen the end. What’s that about; leaving an ending hanging!