by Lori Ryan
Merritt smiled even though her parents couldn’t see it. “My fault. I left my shoes in the entry hall for two seconds while I ran to find my purse and the little stinker grabbed one and ran off with it. It only has a few teeth marks in it. It’s salvageable.”
“Maybe we can find a closed hutch or cabinet or something for the front hall. Something you can tuck your shoes into if you want to leave them up there?” her mother said, and there was a gentleness to the suggestion.
Merritt saw it for what it was. An olive branch.
“I can help you anchor it to the wall when we come out,” her father added.
They were both offering the branch and Merritt grabbed it. She’d never wanted to alienate them or push them away with the move. She’d only needed to show herself and her family that she could stand on her own, that she could raise Collin without them needing to take over for her.
“I’d love that,” she said. “Maybe you can help me find something to hang on the walls here, too, mom. I’ve got some pictures of me and Collin up and some of all of us and his cousins and things, but we could use a painting or two in the living room and something in the dining room.”
“Would next weekend work for you?” her mom said. “We could drive up on Friday and spend the night. Maybe your sisters could come up for the day on Saturday?”
Merritt felt her breath ease. Sure, by this time next week, she’d be panicking about cleaning the house and what they’d all think of the new puppy or her outfit or any number of other things, but she knew this was her parents’ way of telling her they were okay with the move. That they understood.
“I’d love that. Collin will be so excited. A friend introduced us to a great pizza place. There are video games to keep the kids entertained while we eat.”
Her thoughts flew to Eric. She probably wouldn’t introduce him to her family this visit. Their relationship wasn’t there yet, but she’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t do a little flip at the idea of it.
“Great,” her mother was saying. “I’ll call your sisters and see if they have plans.”
“Thanks, mom,” Merritt said and she knew she was saying it for more than just the call to her sisters. She loved her family. She sometimes felt like the black sheep, but she loved them.
Chapter Thirty-One
Rhys greeted Eric and John as they walked into the shift meeting the next day. “Hey, Erica was looking for you this morning.”
Erica Cross was one of the techs in the small city lab for Dark Falls.
Rhys continued as they all took a seat at the large conference table in their meeting room. “She said to tell you guys she has blood on the door at your last crime scene. It’s not a match to the vic, so if you bring her a sample, she can try to match it.”
They didn’t need to ask if she was running it in the databases they had access to. She would, but it would take time to get those results back. He hoped they weren’t still looking for this guy in six to eight weeks when the results came back, but it was possible.
They’d been hunting this guy for a long time. He was escalating, though, setting fires with more frequency than in the past.
The captain came in and started the morning meeting, asking for an update on the arson case right away.
Eric hated that Bill Lincoln, aka The Jackwagon, was sitting in one corner observing. This felt a lot more like some kind of inquisition than him providing guidance on their PR problems. It looked like oversight. Oversight from the mayor’s office by a guy with no law enforcement experience.
It was bad enough they had an FBI agent stationed in the precinct now. At least Ethan Eames was a law enforcement agent. If he tried to stick his nose into their cases, he had something worthwhile to add most of the time.
Eric ignored the Jackwagon as best he could and outlined where they were. “Autopsy on our vic from the fire is happening today. Body position tells us the victim was alive when the fire started.”
Eric caught Connie’s look and explained, “if he was killed before the fire started, his body would be laid out in whatever position he fell in or wherever he was put. When someone dies in a fire, they’re usually found in a closet or, as was the case with our victim, under the bed. They curl up in the fetal position and cover their face or mouth.”
Conrad Underwood was a uniformed officer who helped the Major Crimes Unit whenever he could. He nodded at Eric’s explanation and Eric continued.
“Entry was through a window at the back of the house. Techs found blood that doesn’t match the victim.”
“Witnesses? Any neighbors spot anything?” the captain asked.
Eric shook his head. “Not so far. The fire was set at approximately five in the morning. Most of the neighbors were asleep. Connie led the canvassing.”
Connie nodded. “There are still a few neighbors who haven’t answered us yet when we rang, so I’ve got a team going back this evening. Those that did answer didn’t see or hear anything until the sirens woke them.”
The captain nodded. “What’s the story with this guy and his connection to one of the other fires?”
They explained that the victim of this fire was the owner of the business of the previous fire.
“First time we’ve found any connections between the sites,” the captain said.
“We should bring the feds in on this,” Jackwagon said, standing from his spot in the corner, chest puffed out. “It’s time, captain. You’ve had this case for too long. The public has already lost confidence.”
Eric bit down on his response to that. He wouldn’t get between Cap and this guy. He would wait and give her a chance to defend herself.
He had to stifle a laugh when she turned and smiled at the Jackwagon.
“That’s a great idea.” Captain Scanlon turned to Rhys. “Detective Evans, would you mind getting Mr. Lincoln the number for the local FBI office? Thank you for reaching out to them on our behalf, Mr. Lincoln,” she said.
The man faltered for a half beat, then filled his chest again, puffing up for her. “Shouldn’t we bring Eames in?”
He was referring to the agent assigned to babysit them. Ethan Eames had an office on the floor but he was working his own assignments and seemed happy to keep to himself.
Scanlon shook her head. “He needs to get an order from up above before he can take over a case for us. You’ll need to try to get through to someone up the chain.”
Eric looked at his captain. She was brilliant. She’d just kept their overseer busy for a week, at least. No one at the local office was going to listen to him. At best, if he got their attention at all, they’d call Captain Scanlon and ask her what’s going on. The people in charge there knew the people in charge here. They knew full well that if Scanlon wanted FBI support, she would call and ask for it. If she needed their labs, she’d call and ask for them. If she needed input from their behavioral analysis team, she’d call and ask for it.
She wouldn’t dial up the main number and ask them to take over the case.
Eric wasn’t the only one who had a hard time holding back his laughter as the puffed up Jackwagon left the room, already dialing his phone.
Rhys went to the door of the conference room and watched him leave. When he came back in, every officer in the room busted a gut at the man’s expense.
Was it nice? Not really, but Eric had a hard time feeling bad for the guy.
The captain grinned at them all for a minute before waving them quiet and moving on with the morning meeting.
Eric and John both got calls toward the end of the meeting. They shot a look at the captain, who nodded as they slipped out the door.
Eric answered his phone. They had another fire. And this time, they had a victim who had survived.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Unfortunately, there was no way they’d be getting in to see that victim anytime soon. She was in the burn unit and the doctors couldn’t let Eric and John or anyone else near her.
Her brother was there, but he wasn�
��t much help. When they asked if he knew of anyone who might target her, he said no.
“She’s a nurse. Who would do this to a nurse? They’re good people.”
They walked out of the hospital in equally bad moods.
“Let’s work under the assumption that she’s like Peter Gamet and that she’s got some connection to one of the locations this guy has already targeted.” Eric messaged their dispatcher and asked her to do the search.
The victim’s name would complicate things. Rachel Adams was a pretty generic name. It meant that they might have to sort through a lot of matches to see what was truly a match and what was an unrelated hit.
The dispatchers were fast with the computers and were often able to pull up records and cull through them more quickly and efficiently than a lot of the officers could. They were used to doing record searches on the fly as officers rolled out to a call.
John and Eric sat in the parking lot with their unit idling, knowing if they got a lead at this point, it would be better to be able to get right on it. Their suspect was escalating. Going back to the station would only waste time they didn’t have.
“Let’s head to the scene while we wait.” John put the SUV in drive and pulled out of the lot.
Eric rotated the tablet mounted to their dash so he could see it as John drove. It would ping them the minute their dispatcher sent them anything.
“Merritt didn’t cover that last fire,” John said. “I wonder if she’s going to cover this one.”
Eric texted Merritt as they drove to be sure she had gotten the alert and was on scene. He let her know he was on his way to the scene now and would update her when they got there.
She texted back. I’ve been reassigned. Jason Wilson will be on scene.
Eric frowned at the screen. Everything ok? he typed.
She took a long time to write back but when she did it was short.
Seniority.
“What’s up?” John asked as he turned them onto the highway.
“Merritt said she isn’t covering the fires anymore. That asshole Jason Wilson will be there.”
John groaned. None of them liked Jason Wilson. He thought he was a hot shot investigative reporter. He never gave a shit about the truth. He cared about how many people were reading his column and how he could up the sensationalism of a story to make it more interesting.
It was just like the guy to take a story from Merritt after she’d done all the leg work. She’d been on this case when no one cared about it.
“Fucking asshole,” Eric said. “The boss told me to work with Merritt. She didn’t say anything about working with that asshole.”
John lifted a shoulder. “Until you hear different.”
Exactly. Until he heard different, Eric didn’t plan on telling Wilson anything other than no comment.
They were quiet as they pulled up to the scene.
The priority with a fire is always to protect life and property and as soon as they realized they had a live body in the fire, the firefighters and EMTs would have been all over that place. Not that it should be any other way, but they knew any evidence that was there might very well be compromised.
Noelle Gray and Demetrius Johnson were on scene again together. Behind them stood a tall black woman with skin so dark, it was mesmerizing. Eric had seen her before but couldn’t place her. Then he realized it was because she was always in her firefighter gear when he saw her.
“Gentlemen, you know Risa Caldwell?”
Eric and John nodded and shook the tall woman’s hand in turn.
“She’s saving my sanity,” Noelle said. “She’s started training in arson investigation. She’ll be shadowing me on some of the scenes.”
Noelle led them to the room where their victim had been.
“Not the bedroom this time?” Eric asked when they entered what seemed to be a den.
“No,” Noelle said, “and this time a neighbor saw the flames much sooner. Called it in and likely saved this lady’s life.”
“Masuka is interviewing the witness right now,” Demetrius added.
Hakari Masuka was a uniformed officer. He was good, reliable. He had helped Nate Ryder when Ryder had to go off the grid with a witness recently and needed someone to get him cash who wasn’t too close to the Major Crimes Unit.
“He’s changing his pattern, striking during the day like this.” John looked around as he spoke. The room they were looking at was a den with recliner and television.
“He’s devolving,” Eric said. This guy was in a frenzy and the city was paying for it.
“Yeah, in more ways than one,” Noelle said. “This time, he caught our victim here in the recliner. He tried to douse her with accelerant before barring the door, but it looks like he missed her for the most part.” She pointed to the chair and floor in front of it. “He got mostly the floor and side of the chair. He got some on her arm, but his miss and the neighbor being home to get help right away saved her.”
She gestured to the hallway. “I want to show you this, though.” She led them through the wreckage and out to the hallway through the back of the house. “The den isn’t the site of the first fire.”
Eric and John exchanged looks.
She nodded. “This guy’s obsession with closets continues. He started a fire in the closet here at the back of the house first, before starting the one in the den.”
Eric looked at the damage around the closet. He knew enough rudimentary basics about arson to see what she meant. The damage here showed that this burned longer, hotter than the fire up front.
“He came in through the back again?” John asked.
Benjamin Page, a crime scene tech, raised a gloved hand in greeting as he worked the back of the house. Eric would guess he was working the entry point.
Noelle and Demetrius confirmed.
“And maybe went out that way, too,” Noelle said. “The front door was locked when rescue arrived. Had to break in.”
Eric shook his head. “So the guy sets the fire in the closet.” He looked around. The closet was smack dab in the middle of the hallway leading to the back door. That was the guy’s exit route. “Then he goes in and sets the victim on fire and barricades her into the room? How did he do that, by the way?”
He looked at Demetrius, who answered. “The den had a double door. He tied the doorknobs together. Benjamin collected the rope, but it’s pretty wet. He dusted the knob for prints but nothing there.”
Eric nodded and went on. “So he sets the fire blocking his exit then goes farther into the house to get the victim. Why set a fire that’s going to block you?”
John shook his head. “Maybe he planned to go out the front but the neighbor was out there and he could hear the sirens.”
Eric didn’t answer but his mind was spinning. This guy had always come and gone under cover of darkness. Was he getting so bold that he came during the day and planned to walk out the front door?
Or maybe he had planned to have to go back through the hallway with the fire all along. Maybe for him, part of the thrill was getting out of these fires alive.
They were pretty sure this guy started his fires in a closet first, but then spread accelerant through the house. Maybe he got off on tempting fate with these fires.
“Noelle, how fast would that fire have spread in this hallway? Would he be tearing through the flames or would it still be contained in the closet?” Eric didn’t know if that was something she would be able to answer.
“I can’t say for sure,” she said, “but you’ve seen how fire works. How fast it moves.”
He had. They’d all seen the video of a Christmas tree going up in a living room. It engulfed the entire room in less than a minute and was starting to eat through the ceiling to the next floor.
Noelle pointed to what was left of the closet door. This fire had been doused much faster than the other ones. The house was mostly intact. Eric had a feeling this guy was running through the back yards as the fire fighters arrived on scene.
>
“See how the damage to this door is worse on the inside than out? This door was closed. It’s a hollow wood door so the fire went through it pretty quickly but it did a little bit to push the fire up through the ceiling of the closet and contain it a bit. But you’re talking minutes at best.”
“That may be why he missed his target with our victim. He was in a rush to get back through that hall.” John turned and looked at the back door.
“Then why not set the closet on fire after?” Demetrius asked.
“Ritual,” said Noelle.
Eric nodded. “That and maybe this guy likes the test. Running the gauntlet. A test of fire?”
“Hell,” John said and Eric agreed. This guy was sick.
Chapter Thirty-Three
He looked at his arms, studying the scars. They were the source of his control over the flames. He was sure of it. He could feel them burn, absorbing the heat and power of the blaze with each fire. He was getting more and more control, he could feel it.
“Mom!” He called. She wasn’t answering him again.
He stilled as he thought for a minute. If those people were keeping her away from him again, he could do something about it now. He couldn’t before but maybe now.
He could do something about all of it now.
His glance caught and held on the closet and cold fear ran down his spine. He went to it and stood still, listening. He didn’t breathe, reaching for any sound. Any sign his uncle was stirring. Nothing.
He shoved the fear back, reaching for the heat of his new power.
No, it wasn’t new. He’d always had it, even when he was small. He had it the day he pulled her out of the fire. He just didn’t know how to use it then.
He did now.
Chapter Thirty-Four
