“I’ll pass, Stephen.”
“I’ll tell you what. You come skydivin’ with me tonight, right now, and I’ll tell you why your little girlfriend won’t help us.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I did some checking up. I’ll tell you why she won’t help us.”
“Why?”
“Nope. You gotta go night-divin’ with me. Right now.”
The men started tapping their fists against the table chanting, “Go, go, go, go, go.”
“Do you really know?” Stanton said. “’Cause if you don’t, and I do this, I’m going to shoot you in the knees.”
“Hand to heaven. I know exactly why she won’t help us.”
“Stephen, that’s an important case. An entire family was killed. If you know something—”
“I seen kids spattered in the gutters and old men beaten to death by eight-year-olds. You ain’t tuggin’ on any heartstrings, my man. You want the info, you gotta come with me.”
“You’ll tell me eventually.”
“Nope. I’ll get super drunk and probably forget what it was. I swear to you, I won’t tell you.”
Stanton finished his Diet Coke. “All right, let’s go.”
The other officers cheered as they climbed out of the booth and headed out to their cars. The airfield was a good twenty miles away and Gunn called ahead as Stanton drove them there. The pilot was called in as a special favor in exchange for a case of Jack Daniels—which Gunn got at a fifty percent discount through a source he never talked about—and the plane was fueled and ready to go.
The airfield was in the Otay Mesa community right near the US/Mexico border. They drove through the local neighborhoods and several crowds of young men were gathered in the streets, smoking weed and drinking. The officers honked their horns and yelled out the windows at them. A few were in cruisers and many of the men ran inside their homes as soon as they saw them, thinking a raid was about to occur.
The plane was already on the strip and the pilot was sitting outside smoking. He threw his cigarette down and boarded when he saw them drive up.
“I really don’t want to do this,” Stanton said.
“You got one life, Johnny Baby, you gotta enjoy it, man.” Gunn slapped his chest. “You’re gonna have a blast. Or you’re gonna die. Either way it’ll be a story to tell. Come on.”
They hopped out to the shouts of the other officers who were sitting on the hoods of their cars and cheering them on. Gunn went aboard the plane and got out two packs.
“It’s gonna be cold as hell and you’re gonna freeze your nuts off. Them Mormon underwear you got on, are they warm?”
“Not really.”
“Well, you may wanna put on a dive suit. We got one on the plane.”
“Let’s just get this over with.”
“You ever dive before?”
“You’re drunker than I thought. I told you I’ve never been.”
“Calm down now, booze affects the memory. So ‘cause you never been, you’re gonna hang on to me. Easy-peasy. You spread eagle, don’t arch, don’t get your knees too far down, don’t have your legs too far apart, don’t have your arms too far out front. You seen the position on TV right?”
“I think so.”
“Well, we got some time on the plane. Come on, we can practice.”
They boarded and the plane roared to life. It jerked forward and began its run down the strip, gaining speed and then slowing as it made a turn. Then, with open pavement before it, it began gaining speed to the point that Stanton had to hang on to something. It jerked a couple of times and lifted into the air. The wheels groaned as they were folded underneath and they began to soar, higher and higher.
They went over proper positioning, to prevent too much air pressure, the emergency chute location, and checking the harness. Then Gunn clipped Stanton’s harness to his own and they were literally joined at the hip. Gunn shouted that he would have ahold of him as they exited the plane and would correct his posture on the way down. When they hit the right altitude, he would initiate the chute so he didn’t have to worry about that either.
The door opened and Stanton got a look at the drop zone underneath him. It was the airfield, lit up with some floodlights. But it was still dark enough that he couldn’t judge the proper distance for the fall. The air was screaming so loud it drowned out Gunn’s last minute instructions, but the adrenaline was flowing so powerfully it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The only thing Stanton could hear was the wind and the pounding of his heart.
“Tell me why,” Stanton shouted.
“No way, after the jump. If both of us live.” Gunn looked to the pilot who gave him a thumbs up. “You ready?”
Stanton nodded.
They stepped to the edge of the door, the night sky before them like some vast painting, the moon lighting up the water of the Pacific, and they jumped.
The power of the wind against his goggles and the icy feeling on his exposed skin woke Stanton up like he hadn’t been awakened before. He was acutely aware of his surroundings. It didn’t feel like motion; it felt like he was floating, but the cold air making him shiver told him he was falling. Gunn kept pulling up his arms or pushing down his knees or fixing the arch in his back. But Stanton couldn’t take his eyes off the Pacific. It appeared like the vastness of space; black and unknown. He glanced up at the moon and felt like he hadn’t seen it before.
The one problem that nagged at him was that he couldn’t tell how far away the ground truly was. It was exhilarating and terrifying at once. But he kept himself calm though his heart pounded in his ears like a drum.
When they were at a certain altitude that Stanton couldn’t guess, Gunn pulled his cord and both of them shot up when their chutes opened. It was a sudden, jerking motion and it rattled him before the smooth decent began. Stanton could now see his surroundings in a way he couldn’t during the free-fall. It was a 360º view of the city of San Diego and the Pacific Ocean, with glimpses into Mexico. San Diego was bright and vibrant while the Mexican side had few lights but more open fields and groves of trees that appeared black as tar in the night. But it was the ocean that drew him and that was where he kept his eyes. It shimmered and moved; it appeared alive.
Gunn was shouting something but he couldn’t hear what it was. Then he started waving his arms. Gunn cupped his hands over his mouth and Stanton could barely make him out. He was saying, “Almost there.”
Stanton braced himself but because the ground was so dark he couldn’t anticipate when he would land. By the time he realized he was just barely off the ground, he had only enough time to bend his knees and hit the ground hard. He tumbled head over heels several times and lay flat on his back, his breathing heavy and labored, as Gunn awkwardly unbuckled and rolled next to him.
They both collapsed and Gunn was yelling for some reason.
“How was it?” Gunn said. “No, don’t tell me. Words just fuck things up.”
They sat for several minutes, watching the stars, when Stanton said, “Why?”
“Her dad. He was executed in Texas for murder. They think now that maybe he was innocent. Guess what the crime he was accused of was?”
Stanton didn’t have to guess. He knew it the moment Gunn had said it: it was arson.
CHAPTER 28
Stanton lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Though it was well past two in the morning, he couldn’t sleep. The rush of skydiving was still with him and he could hear the wind in his ears. His heart would start pounding again for no reason and he would get butterflies in his stomach. Also, his head and his back ached from the landing and he thought he had injured his knee.
He tried to sleep but the fatigue would only wash over him for so long before he would wake and stare at the ceiling again. He turned on some music, soft jazz, and drank a glass of warm milk.
It was eight in the morning when his cell phone woke him from a brief sleep. He was exhausted and thought about just turning it off, but decided to check. He was
always worried about getting that call from his ex saying something was wrong with his boys.
The caller ID on his phone said, “NATHAN SELL.”
“This is Stanton.”
“Jon, it’s Nate, man. Get your ass up, I got something for you.”
“What is it?”
“Got a call about a homicide up here in Old Town. I was gonna work it when someone mentioned that it was similar to something you got.”
“What is it?”
“Fire.”
Stanton’s heart dropped. “Is it a family?”
“Yeah, man. Six damn kids and mom and dad. Fucking believe that?”
“What made them think homicide?”
“One of the uniforms used to be a lab tech and smelled an accelerant. He called it in. I got Benny comin’ out in a few hours.”
“I’ll be right down.”
Stanton wrote the address on his palm and then quickly put it into Google Maps on his iPhone. He got dressed without showering or shaving and was out the door in less than ten minutes.
The freeway was relatively clear and he got up to Old Town quickly. He turned music on, a classical station, but couldn’t concentrate on it so he turned it off.
The neighborhood was a mass of fire engines, police cruisers, neighbors, and several ambulances. The ME’s van was parked up on the sidewalk and there was an SUV with the words “CSI” emblazoned on the side parked behind it. Stanton came to a stop near the police tape before getting out.
Nathan Sell was tall and lean. He stood in a gray suit on the sidewalk, watching the men work the house. Homicide detectives could do little at suspected arson sites, but they had to be there supervising the work. Someone’s butt had to be on the line if something went wrong.
“You got anything?” Stanton said, walking up to him.
“Not a damn thing. The temperature got so hot most of the jewelry in the bedroom’s melted. The bodies…there’s not much left.”
“I need to see them.”
“Have at it.”
Stanton walked up the driveway. Nothing was left of the house but a few pieces of the frame and a half-melted shed in the back. He found a tech’s bag near where the front door had been and placed booties on his feet before going in.
The walls had been completely burned away and he could see the remnants of the family. Eight blackened skeletons huddled together in the living room. Nothing was surrounded them like the prior scene; nothing that indicated they had been tied together. The father, or what Stanton guessed had been the father, had his arms around the younger children, trying to protect them from the flames.
Stanton turned away and walked out.
“Well?” Nathan said.
“It’s the same. The same person did this.”
Nathan shook his head. “Some days, I wish I’d gone to business school like my mama told me to.”
A van pulled up; Channel 4 News, the NBC affiliate. A leggy blond stepped out of the passenger side and an overweight guy with a Chargers cap jumped out of the driver’s side and they met up with another man who came out of the back. They gathered some equipment, the second man held a mirror for the blond to check her make-up, and they ducked under the police tape.
“Fucking vultures,” Nathan said, stepping toward them.
“No,” Stanton said. “I want them here.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I need to talk to them.”
“Your ass.”
Stanton walked over. He knew the blond. She had been to several crime scenes over the past six months and was aggressive. Many reporters were in your face but she went about it the right way, waiting until everyone had cleared out before hitting detectives up one-on-one with the tough questions.
“Detective Stanton,” she said, a smile on her face, “you got a quote for me other than ‘no comment’ or ‘get behind the tape’?”
“How about I want to give you an exclusive interview?”
“I’d say you want something in return. Sorry, I got a boyfriend, although you are cute,” she said, rubbing his chest with her fingers.
“What I want is much simpler: I want this to be breaking news on Channel 4 right now, and on every broadcast today.”
“I can’t do that. It’s the producer that makes—”
“Your name’s Katherine, right?”
“Yeah, Katherine Blank.”
“Katherine, we could both sit here and try to convince the other that our hands are tied on all the things we want to do and that the orders are coming down from on high, but we both know that’s garbage. This is my scene and I can do what I want with it. This is your segment and you can do what you want. The producer won’t fight you on it.”
She smiled. “I always thought you were smarter than you looked. Okay, lemme make a call.”
Stanton waited while she took out her cell phone and spoke in hushed tones with someone on the other end. He turned away from the scorched house and looked across the street. The home there had a bicycle in the driveway and several toys on the lawn. A toddler came out with her mother and the mother was forcing her to pick up her toys. It made Stanton smile and he forgot for a moment what he was doing. When the mother saw all the vehicles and the smoking ruins of her neighbor’s house, she quickly grabbed the child and went back inside.
“All right, Detective,” Katherine said. “You got a deal.”
“Okay, you ready?”
“One sec.”
They checked her make-up again and then sound and visual. The cameraman indicated he was ready and the assistant that had checked her make-up was now standing behind him, watching nervously. There was a mic in Katherine’s ear, hardly more than a clear bit of plastic, and she was nodding along to a conversation somewhere else as if everyone could hear it.
“That’s right, Christopher, I’m here at the scene right now with Detective Jonathan Stanton of the San Diego Police Department Homicide Unit and we’re looking at what was once a beautiful two story home on La Brea Drive and what, as you can see, is just ashes now.” She turned to him. “Now, Detective, it’s early in the case but the fact that the Homicide Unit has sent someone—I think we can safely assume that the police department believes this to be a homicide.”
“We do, yes.”
“And is there any evidence of that here?”
“Well I can’t speak too much about an ongoing investigation, but what I can tell you is that the pattern of the homicide is nearly identical to another fire we had last week that is still under investigation. The victims were nearly identical: a family of four in that one. The only difference now being that there were eight lives taken, four of them children. One was a young child of probably no more than eighteen months.”
“It’s hard to imagine who would do something like this to children.”
“Well, monsters exist. They’re out there and they’re hunting. This monster is particularly dangerous because he targets families and takes out a large number of victims at once.”
“And, I know you stated you can’t talk about the details of an ongoing investigation, but are there any leads or roads you’re exploring right now that could lead to a suspect? Any help that our viewers may be able to give?”
“Unfortunately, no. The evidence in this case has burned away with the rest of the house. As of this moment we have no leads. The sad fact is, Katherine, that we may not be able to capture him before he commits another one of these crimes. So I’m asking anyone out there, that if they have any information that could help us find who did this, please call the tip hotline on the website for San Diego PD. You could be saving many lives.”
Katherine asked him several more questions before saying, “Thank you, Detective, for your time here and good luck.”
“Thank you.”
Stanton waited until she had finished her segment and the camera turned off. “I’m going to have one of my officers track down a photo of the family for you. Can you show it on the segment?”
“Sur
e. Out of curiosity, why are you so anxious to help?”
“There’s someone I want to see this segment. Thanks, though, I appreciate it.”
“Anytime. I think I should say you owe me one.”
“You got it.”
Nathan whistled through his teeth. “You are going to get your ass reamed for that, my man. You made us look like we have our heads up our asses and this guy is outsmarting us. Childs’ head is going to explode.”
“I know, but I had to do it.”
“If you say so.” He turned back to the house. “You got this?”
“Yeah, I’ll be here if anyone asks.”
Stanton joined some of the techs and uniforms while they waited for Benny to arrive. They did a walk-through of the house and then began canvasing the neighborhood. Stanton joined in.
Several of the neighbors said they heard nothing until there was an explosion. Many of them thought it was an earthquake at first and they were panicking until they got outside and saw the flames consuming the house. Stanton knocked on one door across the street and an old man in a bathrobe answered.
“SDPD, we’re investigating the fire across the street.”
“What fire?”
Stanton stepped to the side so he could see. The man squinted, mumbled something about getting his glasses and then went inside a few moments before stepping back out. He observed the house but was still squinting.
“I’ll be damned. I thought I smelled smoke but I gotta take so many a them damn sleeping pills I thought I was having a dream.” The man looked at Stanton, as if he’d just noticed him for the first time. “Don’t think I can help you, Officer.”
“Thanks anyway.”
The next house was much larger and better kept. Stanton knocked on the door and a middle-aged woman in workout clothes answered. He asked her if she had seen anything and she said that they had all been asleep.
As the woman was speaking, Stanton noticed the young girl sitting on the stairs listening. She was fifteen or sixteen and appeared like she was intensely interested in what was being said. The woman mentioned hearing a car a short time before the fire.
“How long before?”
Arsonist Page 12
