Page 37 of Devil's Hour

“It’s not likely that the arsonist and website developer is the same person, but it pays to be diligent.”

“He lives near the three fires and has no alibi, so he remains a person of interest,” Royce said.

“Yeah, I agree.”

Curtis Pullman was next, and although he didn’t live near the fires, his current jobsite was near all three locations. After Peppers confirmed Pullman’s location with his supervisor, she told them he’d been working in the neighborhood for going on two months. The painter who had hired Pullman was currently under contract to paint several apartment complexes in the area. Pullman had the knowledge and access to accelerators like paint thinner.

Pullman was leaning against his truck, smoking a cigarette when Royce pulled into the complex parking lot.

“There’s our guy,” Royce said, nodding in his direction.

Pullman watched them exit the car and walk toward him with no outward changes to his demeanor. He didn’t tense or look belligerent or nervous. Unlike Bennett, Pullman didn’t strike a combative stance when Royce and Sawyer introduced themselves. He nodded politely and shook their hands.

“How can I help you?” he asked.

Royce waited for his attitude to turn defensive when the questions started, but he answered each one without qualms. Pullman claimed he hadn’t read about the fires in the paper, and like Bennett, attended therapy. He flatly stated he wasn’t responsible, but also couldn’t provide a witness to confirm he was home sleeping during the fires. He accepted Royce’s card and said he’d call them if he heard something important.

“No alibi and access to paint thinner,” Sawyer said when they pulled out of the parking lot. “He stays on our radar.”

“Agreed.”

Archie Grange worked third shift at a gas station, so he wasn’t too pleased when they woke him up from a dead sleep to ask him questions. Royce figured he’d earned the name The Weasel for more than just his shady behavior. With his slicked-back hair, beady eyes in a small face, and slender stature, Grange closely resembled the animal.

“I’m out of that life,” Grange said as soon as the questions started. “If I don’t keep my nose clean and my mouth shut, I’ll end up dead. I might not have a lot to boast about right now, but I’m proud of what I do have. I earned this shitty apartment and my secondhand clothes honestly.” Unlike Bennett and Pullman, Grange had a solid alibi. He had worked on the nights The Purists struck and provided the names of his coworkers who could confirm it.

Of the three, Grange had been Royce’s number one suspect due to his history with Savannah’s criminal underbelly. Even though his crimes encompassed more than arson, fire had been his weapon of choice. After interviewing Grange, he fell to the bottom of the list until they could confirm or poke holes in his alibi. He refused to take a card because talking to the cops about anything could be misinterpreted as him rolling on a crime boss.

“Now what?” Sawyer asked when they drove away.

“We head back to the station and find out if Chief wants us to tail them based on the little information we’ve gathered. Then we wait for the clock to strike noon.”

Sawyer’s phone rang, and he groaned when he checked the ID. Blowing out a breath, he plastered a smile on his face and accepted the call. “Hello, Mom.” Sawyer went quiet as he listened to whatever Evangeline had to say. Royce glanced over and noticed his cheeks looked flushed. “I forgot to ask him. We had a crazy day yesterday, and it slipped my mind.” Sawyer made assenting noises as he listened some more. He snorted rudely. “Of course, I’m not embarrassed by my family. Mom, we’re working this insane case. I promise to ask him. Hmm?” From Royce’s periphery, he saw Sawyer turn and look at him. “Yes, I’m with him right now. No, Mom. I will ask him as soon as we hang up.” Sawyer groaned. “Just give me fifteen minutes, okay? I’ll text you.” Sawyer was nodding even though his mother couldn’t see him. “Love you too, Mom.” Sawyer disconnected the call and laughed.

“So, what do you want to ask me?”

“I probably should’ve told you this sooner about my mother, but I’m telling you now before our relationship goes further. It’s not too late for you to run for the hills.”

Royce wasn’t sure how to respond, so he just chuckled. “Lay it on me. I’m not afraid of Evangeline O’Neal.”

Sawyer snorted. “So you say now.”

“Spit it out.”

“She’s big on celebrations, my mother.”

“And?” Royce asked, unsure where he was going.

“She wants to celebrate your promotion,” Sawyer said sheepishly. “You can say no, Ro.” Sawyer didn’t use the shortened version of his name often, but Royce liked it when he did. “You’re important to me, and my mother knows that. She’s also tired of me hogging up all your time and not allowing the family to get to know you.” Sawyer’s words were rushing together like he was afraid he wouldn’t get them all out if he waited. “We can tell her no if it makes you feel uncomfortable.”

By this time, they’d reached the precinct. Royce swallowed past the lump of emotion in his throat as he put the SUV in park. It meant the world to him that Evangeline wanted to celebrate his promotion. His mother would’ve made a celebration dinner with all his favorites had she been alive. The tiny nagging voice in the back of Royce’s brain, the one who questioned his worthiness of Sawyer, thought maybe Sawyer was the uncertain one in the equation. Forgetful was not a word anyone would use to describe him. Had he really forgotten or was he stalling? “Do you feel uncomfortable about me meeting your family? Is that why you didn’t say anything?”

“Not at all,” Sawyer said adamantly. “I am dying to show you off to them and for them to get to know you. When Mom first mentioned the idea, I was worried it was too big of a step since you hadn’t come out at work or to your family. I had promised not to push you beyond your limits, and I meant it, but I had every intention of asking you yesterday. The Purists happened, and then you stalked across the bar and kissed me in front of everyone, then offered up your ass to me afterward. I was very distracted for all the right reasons and forgot about her dinner invite.” Sawyer took a deep breath and smiled at him. “Royce, would you like to join my family for dinner?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Royce said.

Sawyer’s smile grew bigger. “Yeah?”

Royce briefly caressed Sawyer’s face. “Call your mom before the clock strikes noon, and The Purists own our asses for the unforeseeable future.”