“Johnson,” the guy replied. “Will Johnson, Jr. My father was Will, Senior. You can just call me Will.”
Cas exchanged a glance with her before they both leaned closer.
“Do you mind if we ask you what happened, Will?” Cas asked gently. “Do you know how the fire started?”
The man sighed, taking a seat at their table. “My mother told me it was a meeting about the church’s charity. Organizing a fundraiser. There were many disagreements about how to handle it. My father and a few others were trying to work out something that would appease everyone, but not everyone agreed. Some thought their ideas were better. My father said it was supposed to be a peaceful discussion, but things got heated. And then a fire started.”
Harper listened intently, her heart squeezing at the thought of a discussion about charity getting so out of hand that it led to murder. “Did your mother think it was an accident?” she asked softly.
The man shook his head, his gaze distant. “No. She always believed it was set deliberately. But nothing was ever proven. The town was divided, and the truth was buried along with those who died. Mary was there that night, wasn’t she?”
Harper nodded slowly. “She never talked about it, at least not to anyone in the family. But she wrote about it in her diary, and it haunted her for the rest of her life.”
The man sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging. “It haunted a lot of people. My father was just trying to do the right thing, but not everyone wanted to listen. There were rumors for years, but eventually, folks moved on. It became just another tragedy in the town’s history.”
“What kind of rumors?” Cas asked, not liking the sound of it.
The man hesitated, glancing around the quiet library as if weighing his words carefully. He lowered his voice as he leaned in slightly. “There were whispers that someone set the fire intentionally. Some said it was about money, others thought it was revenge over an old feud. But the most persistent rumor was that a prominent family in town wanted control, and they didn’t care who got hurt in the process. No one could prove anything, though, so it just stayed in the dark, a secret buried with the ashes.”
“Can you give us the name of this prominent family?” Harper asked, her gaze hopeful.
Will shook his head. “No, sorry, Miss. It was never revealed, only that they were one of the prominent families in town.”
“Then could I trouble you to name the prominent families?” she asked, and Cas silently applauded her gentle pushing.
Mr. Johnson rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing as he considered Harper’s question. Cas could see the hesitation in the man’s expression, along with the reluctance to stir up old, possibly dangerous waters. Finally, Will sighed and nodded.
“Well, back then, there were a few families that held a lot of sway around here. The Andersons, the Collinses, and the Everetts—those were the big names. They had money, land, and enough influence to steer things the way they wanted.”
Cas glanced at Harper, noting the determined set of her jaw as she scribbled the names in her notebook. He silently admired her persistence, knowing this was just the kind of lead they needed.
“Thank you for telling us,” he said to the man. “It helps to hear from someone who was there, even if you were just a kid.”
Will nodded, slowly rising to his feet. “Be careful what you dig up,” he warned gently. “Some folks still don’t like to talk about it. The past has a way of holding on, even when we think we’ve let it go.”
They watched as the man walked away, the weight of his words hanging in the air. A renewed sense of purpose simmered inside Cas. They were getting closer, but the more they uncovered, the clearer it became that this wasn’t just about the past, it was about people who still had something to lose.
“This is bigger than just a family secret,” Harper said quietly, practically reading his mind. “It’s part of the town’s past, and someone doesn’t want it coming to light.”
Cas nodded, concern for Harper setting his resolve. “We’ll keep digging. Whatever it takes, we’ll find the truth. For Mary and for you. But we need to do it my way. We need to stay vigilant and work together.”
Reaching out to take his hand, she smiled. “Thank you, Cas. I don’t think I could do this without you.”
Warmth zinged through his chest. He squeezed her hand gently. “You’re not alone, Harper. And you never will be.”
The pieces of Mary’s story were starting to form a clearer picture, and it was becoming obvious that someone in town still had a reason to keep those secrets hidden.
“Let’s head to ESI and fill the guys in and also see if they discovered anything from the note and envelope,” he said, holding out his hand.
Nodding, she closed her notebook and shoved it in her purse before taking his hand. “Okay.”
They walked out of the library, each lost in their own thoughts. His mind buzzed with everything they’d learned. The names of the prominent families echoed in his head, each one a potential key to unlocking the truth behind the old tragedy.
As they approached his truck, Cas stiffened and halted their steps. The hair on the back of his head stood up. He quickly assessed the area, noting nothing unusual. Cars drove by. Kids played on the swings in a nearby park. Across the street was the Artery, a new art gallery that showcased local art, as well as taught classes. It was owned by one of the ESI guy’s fiancées. Cas eyed it closely, but again, nothing unusual stuck out.
“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, shifting closer to him.
He swept his gaze around the area one last time before it came to rest on his truck.
