“I went to Hot Springs once,” she replied sarcastically. “New Orleans and Destin, Florida. Want to hear about all my stunning vacation spots?”
With a nod from Athena, Shoops slid a card across the table. “We’ll need an alibi for each date listed,” Shoops said. “Location, contact info for any witnesses, and anything that can corroborate—photos, receipts, work schedules.”
Jolene stared at the card, color draining from her face. “Were there other fires on those dates? You think I’m a pyromaniac? That’s crazy.”
“Just provide us with the information,” Athena said. “If it checks out, you’re off the suspect list.”
“Suspect list?” Jolene’s eyes widened. “Look, maybe I didn’t get along with everyone at Synergy, but I have no reason to burn down a bunch of random buildings. It wasn’t me.”
“Then refresh your memory and get back to us with the information,” Shoops reiterated.
“And don’t leave town,” added Athena.
They escorted Jolene Carver to the lobby, where a small crowd formed a line near the elevators.
“Next!” called Agent Howard. A skinny, scruffy-haired man stepped forward.
The peanut butter cannery employees, Athena recalled.
In a blink, a red-faced man bolted out of line, aiming his wrath at Jolene. “You!”
As he stomped across the tiles, Carver squared off with him. “Where do you get off yelling at me?”
“Settledown, now.” Agent Ice stepped from the sidelines to intervene. “What’s this about?”
Athena listened with interest as she sized up the man—mid-twenties, scruffy reddish-brown hair and stubble, average height and weight. If a fight broke out, she’d bet on Jolene to take him down.
“She’s my stupid ex-girlfriend,” he growled, fists clenched.
“Girlfriend?” Jolene laughed. “We went on a few dates. You weren’t my type. Get over it.”
“I’m way over you, bitch!” he shot back. But seeing the room’s attention, he dropped his shoulders and his volume. “What are you doing here?”
“The Synergy Warehouse fire. You?”
“Peanut butter cannery.” He nibbled at his nails.
“Did you set yours?” Jolene asked sharply.
“No.” He glared at her. “You torch yours?”
She snorted. “Of course not.”
The man’s anger faltered, replaced by hurt. “Why’d you dump me?”
“I just wanted a quick lay,” she said, almost apologetic. “Didn’t know you’d get all mushy on me. Sorry if I hurt your feelings.”
“Yeah,” he muttered, eyes on the floor. “Sorry I yelled at you. Good luck not getting arrested.”
“Innocent people don’t need luck,” she replied, in a tone bordering on cheerful.
Athena raised an eyebrow as Jolene retreated toward the elevator, and the man returned to his place in line. “Who’s that guy?”
“Simon Neel. He worked at the peanut butter place. We dated a few times months ago.” Suddenly, her blue eyes rounded, shock stealing her breath. “Wait! Both of our workplaces burned down. You don’t think someone’s targeting us?”
Athena didn’t—but the coincidence was worth noting. “This is an ongoing investigation, and we’re considering all angles. Let us know right away if you believe someone is stalking you or has burglarized your home. But it’s unlikely either of you was targeted.”
Jolene stepped inside the elevator, her expression guarded. “I hope not.”
