Torch Scene by Renee Pawlish Page A

best,” I said, pouring on the charm.
    “I’m not falling for that.”
    “Okay, you’re my only option,” I said, going for honesty.
    She expelled a breathe, and I could hear the exasperation through the phone. “I’m outside your place,” she finally said.
    “You are?” I know I sounded surprised.
    “Come down and let’s talk.” Then she was gone.
    As I hurried outside, I called to Willie, telling her I was going to talk to Spillman and not to wait on me. I took the stairs two at a time, wondering why Spillman was being charitable. I got the feeling she wanted something from me, just like I did from her. I’d have to tread carefully.

 
    CHAPTER SIXTEEN
     
    Spillman was sitting sideways in the driver’s seat of her Mustang, changing her shoes. She looked up when she saw me approach.
    “Old red sneakers with tan slacks and a maroon blouse?” I made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Fashion citation.”
    “Old joke, and not funny.” She finished tying her shoes and stood up. “You want a favor. Can I hope it’s for another case and not because you’re looking into O’Rourke’s death?”
    I shrugged. “You can hope, but you’ll be disappointed.”
    She slipped dark sunglasses to the top of her head and eyed me. “You get in a bar fight?”
    I lightly touched my face. Willie had been correct. I did have a bruise under my eye.
    “It’s a long story,” I said. “What’re you doing here?”
    “Talking to the neighbors.” She shut the car door. “I’ve got work to do.” She headed up the walkway leading to Willie’s house.
    “Hey, you said you’d help.”
    “No, I didn’t,” she called over her shoulder. “I said come down and we’d talk.”
    “Well?”
    “I changed my mind.”
    “I’m only trying to help.”
    “I don’t care,” she said.
    “What’d you find out?” I hollered.
    She got to the porch, turned around and gave me the eye again. “Don’t you know?”
    “Mr. Darmody said he saw someone leaving Willie’s house the night of the fire.” My voice carried across the lawn.
    “Get over here,” she said impatiently.
    I tried not to gloat as I hurried up to the porch.
    “You’re correct,” she said. “Mr. Darmody saw someone in jeans, a black leather jacket and a baseball cap going inside the house.”
    Ace had it right , I thought, sans the details.
    “Unfortunately,” she continued. “That description could fit just about anybody. That’s about the only noteworthy thing so far.”
    If she knew about Rusty Householter seeing Nick and Nadine arguing, she wasn’t letting on. Was she hoping I’d confirm that, as I had with Darmody? I kept my mouth shut.
    “You know Willie didn’t kill Nick or start the fire,” I said.
    She hedged a bit. “I have to look at everything. Did you know your girlfriend was having rental problems with Nick O’Rourke? They’d fought about it.”
    “Yeah, I know.”
    “Did you also know she has a lot of debt? And she recently increased the insurance policy on the house?”
    I hoped my face didn’t betray the fact that I didn’t know that last part. “That doesn’t mean anything,” I said, working hard to keep my voice steady.
    “Except that maybe she increased the insurance so she could pay off the debt. Otherwise she might have to foreclose.” She looked around, then back at me. “I saw her hesitate the other day, when we were talking about Nick. Like she was holding something back.”
    “You’re barking up the wrong tree. You should be looking at O’Rourke.”
    “Who says we aren’t?”
    “He had a ton of debt and a gambling problem.”
    “So?”
    “Maybe he got in with the wrong people and they eliminated him.”
    She put her hands on her hips. “Something tells me you’re about to ask for that favor.”
    “Have you ever heard of a loan shark or someone connected to local bookies who goes by the alias ‘the Chin’?”
    “Really? The Chin?”
    I nodded.
    She paused, thinking. “Nothing comes to mind. What’s this