Free Senseless by Mary Burton Page A

and framed high cheekbones and sharp gray eyes edged by deep lines.
    She wrapped her arms around her chest. “Oh my God. Oh my God.” Tears rolled down her freckled cheeks.
    Garrison moved toward her. “Ms. Sally Walton?”
    “Yes.” Her voice trembled as she shook her head and stared at the charred remains.
    Garrison shook her hand, noting tension had flattened her lips. “I’m Detective Deacon Garrison, Alexandria City Police Department, and this is my partner, Detective Malcolm Kier.”
    Malcolm stuck out his hand. “I sent the car for you so you wouldn’t have to drive.”
    Silver bracelets jangled as Sally shook his hand. “I wanted to drive my own car, so the officer followed me.” She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m always getting calls on my night off. Most of them were nuisance calls, so lately, I’ve turned off my cell phone.”
    “Understandable,” Garrison said. “Where were you last night?”
    “My boyfriend’s. His name is Charlie Jones. He works in a garage in Arlington. You want his number?”
    “Yes, ma’am. I’m going to need to verify where you were.”
    She dug a pad and pencil from her purse and scribbled names and numbers on it. “Well, the sooner you can figure out I didn’t do it, the faster you can find who did.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” He studied her elegant handwriting. “Can you tell us who stayed in the house?”
    “I think so.” Sally had a rough, jagged tone to her voice that suggested a life of heavy cigarette smoking.
    “Would you also write down the names of your residents and staff?”
    “The officer told me none of my people were hurt.”
    “We just like to be sure everyone’s been accounted for.” Sally wrote the names down, her hand steady and sure. “I’ve listed seven names. Six residents and one staff member. I starred resident names who supplied full names that I thought might be fictitious.”
    “Fictitious?” Garrison said.
    “I hadn’t had time to verify their identities. Some may have lied about their last names.”
    “That happens a lot?”
    “All the time. But I always check on people. I don’t want trouble. Yesterday was my night off and I was in a rush to get out. I didn’t take the time to run background checks. It was cold, and turning folks away seemed harsh.” She raised fingers to her lips. “Did one of my residents do this?”
    “I don’t know yet.” Garrison glanced at his notepad. “You only had one staff worker on call last night?”
    “I was supposed to have two but my second night worker called to say she’d be late.”
    “Did her call surprise you?”
    “No, no. Eva is very reliable. She just called to say she’d have to work late—at her other job. She works three jobs. She’s hustling to save money. I understood she’d be here as soon as she could.”
    “You said her name was Eva?”
    “That’s right. Eva Rayburn.”
    “And the other volunteer?”
    “Beamer.”
    “We spoke to him last night. He was in the front of the house watching TV with the residents when the fire broke out.”
    “Sounds like Neal. He likes his television. I’m glad Eva wasn’t on site.”
    “Why?”
    “She’d have been in the back of the house in the kitchen working. The kid barely sits down.”
    Garrison thought about his victim. “What does Eva look like?”
    “She’s short. Maybe five feet. Dark hair. Blue, blue eyes. Pretty girl. Could pass for a fifteen-year-old. Why do you ask?”
    Eva matched the description of his mystery woman. “We found the body of a woman behind the shelter. I’m trying to identify her.”
    The furrow in Sally’s brow deepened. “Oh, God. Was the girl Eva?”
    “Judging by your description, no.”
    Sally pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead. “Was this woman killed by the fire?”
    “We’re still trying to determine the cause of death.” He pulled a Polaroid of the victim’s face shot before the medical examiner’s office bagged her body. “Would