Murder by Fire

By Debra Ann Dotson

Dana Porter was living a quiet life in Payson, Arizona until the untimely death of her mother. When reading through her mother's journals, she learns the man she called 'Dad' all her life is not her father, but her stepfather. Her biological father, Joseph Parnell, is on death row for setting a fire in 1995 that killed Sally and Patrick Marshall. Why would her mother keep this a secret? Is it possible she's related to a murderer?

Ben Thomas is a photographer working for the same magazine as Dana. He wants to know more about Joseph Parnell and he thinks getting close to the man's daughter will provide some answers. When he finds out Dana is learning everything from her mother's journals, he will try anything to get his hands on them. Why is he interested in a fire that took place when he was just ten years old? Does he want Joe to be released? Or is he just interested in the story?

Annie Driscoll is Dana's best friend and a reporter for Channel 12 News. Annie's assignment is to cover the wildfires that are burning out of control around the state. She soon learns some of the fires were intentionally set. Why? During her investigation, Annie stumbles across a connection between the wildfires and the fire that killed the Marshalls in 1995.

Dana has less than three weeks to save a man she hardly knows and find the person who uses fire as a murder weapon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Red Canyon Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Aug 14, 2017
• ISBN: 9781733943833

Debra Ann Dotson

Debra Ann Dotson published her first novel, You Can’t Hide from Me, in 2012. Five years later, Murder by Fire, made its debut, and in 2019, Deadly Trust, the first in the Harrington Palmer series, was made available from Red Canyon Publishing. In 2020, Debra will present the first book in a new series, D&K Mysteries, and the second Harrington Palmer novel. In her spare time, Debra enjoys reading, listening to podcasts, and building LEGO spacecraft.

Book preview

SATURDAY

18 DAYS LEFT

Chapter 1

Stepping into the small, windowless room, Dana Porter was trying hard not to hyperventilate.

Stay calm, she thought. Relax. This will be over soon and then you can go home and put it behind you. She tried to convince herself of that, but she knew she would never be able to put any of this behind her. It would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Dana tried to steady her nerves by concentrating on her surroundings. She looked around the room that was the setting for her latest life-changing event. The overhead fluorescent lights were bright, almost painfully so, except for one in the far corner that blinked on and off. The rapid strobe effect matched the beating of her heart.

The tiny room was divided in half from the cement floor to the dingy gray ceiling by a clear partition. The only interruption in the divider was a speak thru grill so those on both sides of the divider could hear each other. On either side of the partition was a small table with one solitary gray chair. Dana thought about sitting down, but only briefly. She was far too nervous to sit. Pacing the tiny space would help to settle her nerves. Or so she hoped.

Was she crazy? She had just driven two hours in hundred plus degree heat through the Arizona desert. What had she been thinking when she decided to come here? She felt her chest tighten.

Breathe, she told herself. Just breathe.

The door on the other side of the partition opened and two men entered, one wearing a bright orange jumpsuit and the other a tan and brown uniform. It was the man in the jumpsuit that held Dana’s attention. His reddish-brown hair was starting to gray at the temples but at one time had probably matched her own auburn locks. His eyes were a startling green-blue and were his most dominant feature, as were hers. Even the narrow, aristocratic nose reminded her of her own.

Her hand self-consciously went to the slight bump on the bridge of her nose that had been there ever since she flew over the handlebars of her bike when she was ten years old and landed face first on the gravel road. Despite that one small difference, there was no doubt in Dana’s mind that the man standing before her, in the bright orange jumpsuit with handcuffs encircling both wrists, was her father.

The guard quickly removed the handcuffs and stepped back to stand near the door. Joseph Parnell’s gaze never strayed from his daughter as he sat down in the chair on his side of the room. Dana couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. She knew what was going through hers. How is it that two people, two strangers, could look so much alike? It was scary.

She was scared.

Her heart beat a little faster. She wanted to turn and run. Forget any of this ever happened. Go back to the way her life was before her mother had died. But she couldn’t. Part of her didn’t want to. It seemed she was always fighting this battle within herself. Part of her always wanted to play it safe while another part wanted to live dangerously. Playing it safe usually won.

But not this time.

He was still looking at her. No, it was more than that – he was staring at her. She could see the surprise and happiness at seeing her in his eyes. But she knew this must be strange for him considering he was looking at a daughter he hadn’t seen in over twenty years. Not since she was just a few months old. How much did he know about her?

More than I knew about him, she thought bitterly. At least he had known I existed.

Hello Dana, he said.

How could it be so easy for him? She was still struggling with the fact that they were related, and complete strangers, while he seemed completely at ease.

I’m glad you came to see me, he continued.

He was staring at her and he must have seen the panic in her eyes because he asked, Are you okay?

Dana still felt as if she were in a dream. The whole scene was so surreal. I’m fine. I just don’t know what to say. I don’t even know why I’m here.

I do, he began. Your mother decided it was time to tell you about me and you were curious. He said it so simply, as if he had been expecting this visit for years.

My mother’s dead, Dana said, more tersely than she had intended. The shocked look on his face made her regret blurting it out that way. He didn’t know? No one had told him? Was he aware of anything that went on outside the prison walls?

Helen’s dead? He gazed down at his hands seemingly trying to absorb the news. What...what happened? he stammered.

Car accident, Dana said, fighting hard to keep the tears at bay.

His head snapped up and she could clearly see the fear in his eyes. If your mother is dead, how did you know where to find me?

Dana finally sat down. She was sure if she didn’t her legs would come out from under her. Even though they were separated by the partition, she felt too close to him and she didn’t want to be. She pushed her seat back a couple of inches. Just enough distance to give her room to breathe again.

I discovered my mother’s journals after she died. She wrote about you. About where you were. About how you’re my biological father.

His eyes were still strained, the happiness she had seen in them earlier was now gone. That must have been quite a shock for you, he said, staring at her again. What else have you learned about me?

Dana made a nervous grab for the locket she wore around her neck. Her mother had given it to her on her sixth birthday. The picture inside was of her and her mother, both wearing big bright smiles. She never took the locket off and she often played with it when she was stressed. Somehow it brought her comfort – in most situations, anyway. This situation was proving to be too much for a small piece of jewelry.

Dana took a deep breath and dived in. I know that you were convicted of murdering a married couple. That you admitted to knowing the woman and going to her house the night she and her husband died. I know that you were the prime suspect because you were found at the crime scene. She stopped to look deeply into his eyes. None of what she was saying was fazing him. But then again, why should it? He had lived with it for more than twenty years.

He was still staring at her. There was a mixture of sadness and amazement in his expression. Well, it seems you have all the facts of the case, he said as he leaned back in his chair. So, tell me, Dana, why did you come here?

Dana was shocked by the question. Wasn't it obvious?

"I just learned my mother had been married to someone other than the man I grew up calling 'Dad' and that her first husband is really my father. I guess you could say I was more than a little curious about him.

But more than anything, she said as anger added a tinge of red to her cheeks, I want to know why everyone kept this a secret from me. I want to know why everyone felt I didn't have a right to know.

For a split second, Dana thought she saw tears well up in Joseph Parnell's eyes. But, before she could get a better look, he stood up and walked to the far side of the room and faced the wall, his back to her. He stood that way for several minutes, his shoulders sagging a little more than when he had first entered the room.

Finally, he turned and walked back to his chair but didn't sit down. Instead, he gripped the back of the chair until his knuckles turned white. He leaned forward and looked Dana directly in the eyes.

You need to go home, Dana.

The tone of his voice made Dana shudder.

Joe Parnell lowered his voice so the guard standing near the door wouldn’t overhear. I will be put to death in less than eighteen days for the murders. Joe said, watching Dana, making sure he had her attention. You need to go home now and forget this visit ever happened.

Before Dana had a chance to respond, he added one last statement. Do yourself a favor, Dana, and destroy all your mother's journals. Nothing good can come from reliving the past. You'll only get hurt.

Dana watched in disbelief as Joseph Parnell turned and walked away from her, nodding to the guard, signaling his desire to go back to his cell.

As the guard opened the door, Dana yelled, Wait! I’m not done yet. I have more questions.

Neither one of the men turned or in any other way acknowledged her outburst. Dana sat, stunned, for a few brief seconds before the guard who had let her into the small room, tapped her on the shoulder and said, Time to go, miss.

Dana slowly got up and followed the guard out the door and back into the area where she had been instructed to leave her personal belongings. After signing out, she left the building and made her way to her car to begin the long, hot drive home.

She had gotten nowhere. The trip had been a total waste of time. And, as bad as that was, there was something even worse.

She couldn’t go home and tell her mom all about it.

Chapter 2

After spending over two hours in her dark blue Chevy Malibu, Dana arrived at her small, quaint home in Payson, Arizona. When she entered the house, Dana dropped her purse by the front door, tossed her keys onto the dining room table, and walked into the living room where she collapsed on the sofa. What had she been thinking? Why had she felt the need to see that man? Joseph Parnell. Her biological father. She had been foolish. She had let her curiosity get the best of her.

Well, no more. She was determined not to let that happen again. She had always trusted her mother, and for whatever reason, her mother had kept Joe Parnell a secret from her. It was probably for the best. After all, a jury of his peers had found him guilty of murder. She was better off not knowing him.

Especially considering he would soon be put to death for the crimes he had committed.

Dana buried her face in her hands. How could this be happening? Dana ran her fingers through her hair, leaned back on the sofa and looked up at the ceiling. He told me to leave and forget about him. That’s probably good advice. I need to just let it go.

She pushed herself off the sofa and walked into the kitchen to make some tea, something that would help to soothe her raw nerves.

At least that’s what she hoped.

Dana stood at the kitchen counter, steeping a tea bag in a cup of boiling hot water. She was so deep in thought, replaying what had taken place earlier, that the sound of her cell phone vibrating on the granite countertop made her jump, causing her to knock over the cup of tea.

Great. She snatched up the phone, never looking at the screen to see who was calling, and at the same time grabbed a kitchen towel to mop up the mess before it had a chance to cascade down the cabinets and onto the floor.

Hello? she said, more annoyed with herself than with the person calling.

So, tell me what happened. Did you meet your father? The excited voice on the other end of the line belonged to Dana’s best friend, Annie Driscoll. They had known each other since elementary school and Annie had been just as shocked as Dana when she learned Dana’s father was in prison.

Yes, I met him, Dana said with a frustrated sigh. She loved Annie and would normally have told her the whole story, but she couldn’t this time, at least not yet. She was still trying to process all that had happened just a few hours earlier.

Yeah, and? Annie waited for half a second. Tell me everything.

I walked in, saw him, told him mother had died and how I had learned about him by going through her things and . . ., Dana took a deep breath. That’s about it. I left before we could get too deep in a conversation.

What? You went all that way and that’s it? Come on, Dana. You’re not telling me everything. You know I’ll get it out of you sooner or later. Why not make it easier on us both and tell me everything now. Without waiting for a response, Annie asked, Do you want me to come over?

Dana could feel the anticipation in Annie’s voice and knew Annie would not let it go until she knew the whole story. She might as well get it over with. Sure. Come on over. I’ll make us something to eat. What would you like?

Let’s not waste time on cooking. I’ll pick up a pizza on my way over. See you soon.

Dana would have preferred to spend the evening alone so she could process what she had been through. Then again, maybe it was best if she got everything off her chest. Maybe by saying everything out loud it would make more sense and she could put it all behind her.

Thirty minutes later, Annie breezed into Dana’s living room, a large pepperoni pizza in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other.

Annie and Dana had been best friends since they were eight years old. While Dana had always been the quiet, reflective type, Annie was outgoing and vivacious. Annie, with her long blond hair, deep blue eyes, and long sexy legs, always got more than her fair share of attention. Because of her personality and her exceptional good looks, it was appropriate that she had become an on-air reporter. It didn’t hurt that she was always curious and wouldn’t let go of a story until she had learned every single detail, no matter how minute. Her tenacity did wonders for her career, but it was a trait that sometimes annoyed her best friend.

After serving up the pizza and the wine, Annie said, Okay, tell me what happened. And leave nothing out.

After Dana finished chewing her first bite of pizza and downed at least half the contents of her wine glass, she told Annie everything that had taken place at the prison. Especially seeing how much she looked like him. She still couldn’t get over that. And, after getting it all out in the open, she still didn’t feel any better.

Wow, Annie breathed. I can’t believe he just told you to leave like that. I would think he would have been happy to see you.

Dana didn’t say a word. She just kept eating her pizza – and drinking more wine.

Are you okay? Annie asked, deep concern for her dear friend in her voice.

Dana tossed aside the slice of pizza she had been nibbling on. She turned to her friend with a pleading look on her face.

Annie, I would really like to forget today ever happened. How can I wipe away the memory of being rejected like that?

I don’t think you can, Annie said.

Dana took a sip of wine then slowly set the glass down. I can’t help but wonder how different my life would be now if an event that took place more than twenty years ago had never happened.

Dana... Annie tried to stop her friend from going down the path she was on, but she couldn’t stop Dana from continuing with her ruminations.

It’s obvious from what she wrote in her journals that my mother was hopelessly in love with Joe Parnell. Dana took another sip of wine. It seems she let a lot of her dreams die when he went to prison. Tears began to well up in her eyes. I feel bad for her...and for me.

Has life been that bad for you? Annie asked.

Dana shook her head. No, not at all. Up until the accident a few weeks ago, life had been good. But... Dana let her voice trail off.

But what?

Dana took a deep breath. But, as good as life was, I always felt like something was missing.

Like what? Annie asked.

Affection. Dana paused to fill up her wine glass again. I have no doubt my parents loved each other but I’m not sure they were ‘in love.’ My gut tells me things would have been different between my mom and Joe.

Annie nodded, taking time to consider what Dana had told her. Can I ask you something? Annie said.

Go ahead.

Do you think Joseph Parnell is guilty of murder? Is he where he belongs?

That’s the million-dollar question, my friend. Dana raised her glass in a salute. I wish I knew.

What does your gut tell you? Annie pressed.

Dana paused a few seconds before answering. When she was ready, she said softly, I have this feeling that when Joe Parnell was sent to prison for murder, a terrible mistake was made.

Chapter 3

Joseph Parnell sat at the small desk situated in the far corner of his eight-foot by eleven-foot cell. The desk was little more than a wood shelf attached to the wall. The chair was made of white plastic that was durable but not comfortable enough to sit in for any length of time. The wall next to the desk was taken up by the steel bunk and lumpy mattress he slept on night after night. The other amenities of the tiny cell included a sink, toilet, and a couple of shelves Joe used to store his personal items: a fan to help circulate the air during the hot Arizona summers; a small television to keep up with life going on outside the prison walls; and a small collection of books and art supplies he had been allowed to accumulate due to his many years of good behavior.

Joe shared the small space with no one. Some would not consider solitary confinement lucky, but Joe did. If he couldn’t be with the people he loved, he would rather be alone.

The wall above the desk was used to display photos and some of Joe’s artwork. On this day, it was the photos that were drawing his attention. Wanting a closer look, Joe carefully removed two four-by-six photographs from their place of honor. Each picture was slightly faded, and the corners were creased and torn from years of handling, but the subjects were still easy to discern. The first photo was of Joe with his mom, dad, and older brother. At the time the picture was taken, Joe was fifteen and his brother, David, was eighteen. The family was on their way to David’s high school graduation. The following week David enlisted in the Marine Corp. Joe still remembered when he died. It was during the Gulf War when David was only twenty-one.

His parents were gone, too. His father, Daniel, had disappeared around the time Joe had been arrested and charged with the murders of Sally and Patrick Marshall. The rumor was that Daniel Parnell, still trying to cope with the death of his oldest son, was not able to handle the reality of what his youngest son had done and had abandoned his family. Joe hadn’t believed it for a second. While he knew David’s death had taken its toll, there was no way his father would have run away, leaving his wife to sit through their son’s trial on her own.

Joe’s mother, on the other hand, had held tough during Joe’s trial but had taken ill soon after the sentencing. Her heart hadn’t been strong enough to handle all the stress and she had died only a year after her son’s incarceration.

Joe set down the first photo and went on to the next. The second photo was of a beautiful woman in her early twenties and a young girl, no more than two years of age. The two were grinning from ear to ear, apparently enjoying themselves in a breathtaking, outdoor setting. The woman had long, flowing blond hair and, although she was smiling, her eyes seemed just a bit sad. The little girl had shoulder-length auburn hair and her greenish-blue eyes were dancing.

Joe assumed the photo had been taken in Sedona, based on the brilliant blue skies and the bright red rocks in the background. Joe imagined them on a day excursion with Helen’s parents, enjoying the cool, fresh air. Helen’s father had taken the picture and had included it in a letter he had sent to Joe. All letters Joe had received early into his incarceration had been about how they were working to get him released. There was rarely any mention of all the fun activities that were going on without him. Photos were usually included as an afterthought, placed into the envelope just before sealing it and placing it in the mailbox. He loved looking at all the pictures they sent, this one especially. His only regret was he hadn’t been the one to snap the perfect picture.

Joe smiled and turned the photo over to see the words printed on the back.

Helen and Dana

April 5, 1997

He turned the photograph back over and his smile faded. Helen was gone. How could that be? After all he had done to try to keep her safe, Helen had died anyway. And there was no doubt in his mind that the car crash that had ended her life had been no accident. Helen had been murdered.

With great care, Joe rehung the photos on the wall. He buried his face in his hands and waited for the tears to come. But, instead of tears, anger welled up inside him. Helen had learned something. Something she wouldn’t share with him, but she had told him she felt sure she had information that would clear his name and get him out of prison.

He knew Helen well enough to know that she documented everything in the journals she kept. Now Dana had them. If Dana read what her mother had learned, her life would be in danger as well. He couldn’t let anything happen to Dana. He needed to make sure she would be safe before it was too late.

He didn’t have much time left.

SUNDAY

17 DAYS LEFT

Chapter 4

Dana woke up the next morning with a pounding sensation between her temples. Was it from the wine the night before? Or was it from lack of sleep? There had been a mere four hours between the time Annie left and the sun came blazing through her bedroom window.

Or was it because it was Sunday? Dana and her mother had always spent the third Sunday of each month together. A girls’ day out. This was the third Sunday of the month. And the first she would spend without her mother.

Not only was she missing her mother, but she couldn’t get the image of Joseph Parnell sitting in a prison cell, wearing an orange jumpsuit, out of her mind. He had appeared happy to see her when she had first arrived. Even if he was guilty of killing the Marshalls, why wouldn’t he want her to continue visiting him? If, in fact, that was what she wanted? He didn’t have much time left. Why would he tell her to stay away?

And why would he be so adamant about her destroying her mother’s journals? What could possibly be in them to elicit such a declaration?

A lot of questions were running through her mind but there was one that stood out from the rest. How could her mother have kept such a big secret from her all these years? They had been so close. They had shared everything.

Apparently not everything, Dana thought.

She dragged herself out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. Turning on the light, Dana winced as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She looked even worse than she felt. What she needed was a long, soothing bath but she would have to settle for a quick shower. She hoped it would be enough to make her feel like a human being again.

Twenty minutes and several gallons of hot water later, she still looked and felt like hell. And she couldn’t get that one question out of her head. Why had her mother kept Joseph Parnell a secret?

After putting on her favorite pair of blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a pair of well-worn sneakers, Dana grabbed her purse and her car keys and headed out the front door. There was only one person who might know the answer to her question. Her dad.

Dana thought about those two words. Her dad. Ned Porter had raised