"What did Sam's parents do?"
"Her mother was a stay-at-home mom. She volunteered at school and city fundraisers. Now she doesn't do much of anything. Her dad is a salesman for a software company. He's gregarious and bigger than life. Sam was a mix of her quiet mom and her outgoing dad. She was friendly but introverted. She liked analysis more than she liked people. She preferred to profile than to interview or take action. That's why we were a good team."
"Did Sam enjoy being near her family for this assignment?"
"She did. We had several dinners over there in the weeks before she died." He paused. "When I had to call her mom and tell her what had happened." He shook his head. "Worst call of my life."
She couldn't even imagine. She impulsively reached across the table and put her hand over his. "You went through hell. I'm so sorry, Devin."
He squeezed her fingers. "Thanks." He drew in a breath and let it out. "The hell got worse when the Bureau closed the case, and I was reassigned. I spent three days on that new assignment and then said to hell with it. I quit that day, and I've been here ever since—working and waiting. Now, the wait is almost over."
She nodded. "We're going to find the bastard who killed Sam. I believe that."
"I believe it, too," he said, surprising her with the admission.
"So you can be optimistic," she said, trying for a lighter tone.
The tension eased from his face. "On that one point, I've never lost the faith. It's been shaken badly at times, but it's never disappeared." He let go of her hand. "After you finish eating, we'll take a look at targets."
"And suspects. We need to review the list again. Knowing now that Rick went to St. Bernadette's and had at least a few acquaintances there, maybe we can connect some new dots. But before we do all that, Devin…"
"What?" he asked warily.
"We should go see Sam's mom."
"We?" he asked with an arch of his eyebrow. "I don't think that's a we job."
"Do you really want to go alone? Sit with Val and her depressed mom all by yourself?"
"Okay, you have a point. But let's push that back awhile and do some work first."
* * *
After lunch, Devin opened his computer and pulled up the file on people he had listed as persons of interest.
"Do you want me to go down the list?" he asked.
Kate nodded, her computer open in front of her. "I'll follow along."
"Let's start with Ron Dillingsworth. Thirty-four years old, thinning brown hair and brown eyes. He has authored a series of books about firefighters. He was photographed at three of the fire scenes, but he claims that he goes to the scenes for research for his books."
"He published the first book five years ago, two months after the first school fire in your pattern of fires," Kate finished. She looked up at him. "You sat in on his interview after the fire. What was your personal take on him?"
"I couldn't catch him in a lie, but he didn't seem to be telling the entire truth. He had alibis for several of the fires, although no real alibi for the fire that killed Sam. He alleged that he was at home alone. A neighbor verified that she'd seen him enter his apartment that evening, but whether or not he left after that sighting was unknown."
"Sometimes when people are lying, they're not lying about the actual case," she said. "Maybe he had other secrets."
"Like what?"
"Perhaps he doesn't write the books himself? He could have a ghostwriter and not want anyone to know. Or maybe he was cheating on his girlfriend, and one of his alibis had to do with that. It says he was dating a model at the time of the fire but they've since broken up."
"It's possible."
"We could talk to him again. It's been a year and a half. Maybe I could get a different read on him."
"After his interview, his lawyer started intercepting all of his calls. Dillingsworth has also gotten to be very popular in the last year. His most recent book hit high on the New York Times Bestseller List. He has become an author celebrity."
"He has to have a life. There must be some way we can catch him off guard. Let's think about that. Go on to the next one," she said.
"Bennett Rogers. He's a forty-six-year-old real-estate developer. He owned two of the historic properties that were torched and both had insurance policies that paid off. He's since built new homes on those sites." He paused. "He doesn't work for the rest of the fires, though."
"And he's a lot older than Baines, so he wouldn’t have been connected to him through high school. I'm going to pull up the background on each of these people while we're talking. It goes into more detail than your general notes." She paused for a moment. "Okay, Dillingsworth grew up in San Francisco, and he attended Catholic school through the sixth grade. He went to St. Mary's." She looked at Devin. "There weren't any fires at St. Mary's, were there?"
"The second one," Devin said. "But he had an airtight alibi for that fire. He's at the bottom of my list." He moved on to the next name. "Eileen Raffin is an interior designer and a member of the San Francisco Historic Preservation Commission. She approved the certification for three of the structures that burned down. She works at the architectural firm of Connors and Holt."
"Mrs. Raffin seemed forthcoming in her interview. She's a fifty-seven-year-old woman with a good job and long ties to the community. What bothered you about her?" Kate asked.
"It wasn't Eileen that bothered me as much as her friend and the owner of the firm she works for—Gerilyn Connors."
Kate glanced back at her computer. "Gerilyn is a forty-two-year-old architect. She drew up the plans for the remodel additions on two of the houses that were targeted."
"And one of those houses was the one that Sam was killed in," he said.
Kate met his gaze. "Four of the five historic structure fires are connected to Gerilyn and Eileen in some way. That's a lot. But your real interest isn't even Gerilyn; it's Gerilyn's ex-husband."
"Yes," he agreed. "Brad Connors is an ex-firefighter with an alcohol and substance abuse problem. He got kicked off the job for drinking at work. He had several domestic violence complaints against him that Gerilyn later dropped after they got divorced, but it's possible he went after projects she was involved in for revenge against her."
Kate nodded, liking that theory. "He burns down what she builds up. That makes sense. Although, it's easier to come up with motives for the historic structures; the schools and the community centers are tougher."
"It is. I cannot find a link between Brad and the other fires. And I do not believe any of these fires are random. Each site is selected for a specific reason."
"I agree. Okay, so last on the list is Marty Price."
Devin consulted his notes again. "Marty is twenty-three-year-old wanna-be firefighter who tried out three times to get into the fire academy without success. He was spotted in the crowd at four of the fires. He lives near St. Bernadette's, but he did not go to Catholic school. He went to public elementary school and high school. In his interview, he stated that he goes to fires to watch the firefighters at work and that all of the fires he was seen at are near his apartment, which they were. So he lives in the right area."
"He's also the right age to know Baines," she said. "Even if they didn't go to school together, they could have known each other."
"I have looked at that angle, but I haven't found anything that ties them together."
"What about the gym? It's the kind of place where people meet, but no one would really put them together there."
"Why don't you call your good buddy Pete and see if Marty Price had a membership there?" Devin suggested. "I'm sure he'd tell you."
"That's a good idea," she said, ignoring his not-so-subtle dig about Pete's interest in her. She looked back at her computer. "Marty works at a coffee house. That's another place he could have met Baines. Maybe we should do some more digging into him." She let out a breath as she considered all the suspects. "Out of all these people, I'm most interested in the writer Dillingsworth, the ex
-husband firefighter, and Marty Price. What about you?"
"They seem the most likely candidates, but there's a part of me that doesn't think it's any of these people, that I've missed something big along the way."
She was surprised that Devin was so honest in his assessment of his work. She'd thought he was impossibly cocky when they first met, but as she got to know him, she realized that he had very high expectations for himself as well as everyone around him. "If you missed something, it wasn't big," she told him. "It was something small, something hidden, something that appeared insignificant in context but wasn't."
"That doesn’t narrow it down much, Kate."
"I know." She paused as her phone buzzed. "It's Emma—finally. I'll put her on speaker."
"So sorry, Kate," Emma said immediately. "I got caught up in a warehouse fire, and I've been swamped since we had lunch yesterday."
It was strange to hear about another fire, Kate thought. They'd been so focused on school and community center fires that she hadn't paid any attention to other fires in the city. "Was the warehouse fire arson?"
"It looks like it was an unhappy employee, and I don't believe it's tied to the fires you're tracking."
"It doesn't sound like it. I'm with Devin, by the way. You're on speaker."
"Hi, Devin."
"Emma."
"So what have you learned?" Emma asked.
"Rick Baines—the man believed to be the arsonist—was a student at St. Bernadette's before he transferred his junior year to Northern Marin High School," Kate said.
"Really?" Emma asked. "I don't recall seeing that in the files."
"It wasn't in there," Devin said. "I didn't look back beyond Northern Marin High School."
"How did you get this information?" Emma asked.
"We talked to the counselor at the school," Kate replied. "We also looked in the yearbook. We've been researching Baines since we found out he was a student there. While he obviously didn't set the fire on Monday, it fits the pattern, which makes it likely that this arsonist might have known Baines or at least been familiar with his work."
"That makes sense," Emma said.
"We went through the St. Bernadette yearbook from that time period and located a couple of people who appeared to be friends with Baines. One of them went to the gym where Baines worked. The other two are women. We have not had a chance to track down yet."
"Give me their names. I'll see if I can get any info on them," Emma said.
"Kristina Strem and Lindsay Blake," she said. "The man from the gym is Alan Jenkins. He apparently moved to southern California over a year ago. We've left messages for him, but he hasn't returned calls."
"Okay, I'll do some digging myself."
"Did you have a chance to study the photos from the fire on Monday?" Devin asked.
"I did look at them again. You were right. There was a St. Christopher's medal found near the Dumpster. I spoke to my boss. He's not declaring anything officially open again, but he said I can talk to you."
"I'm glad we don't have to meet in secret," Kate said.
"I'm going to look at everything again this weekend, and I'd like to bring Max in, if you don't mind."
"Of course not. We'll take all the help we can get."
"Let's stay in touch."
"We will," Kate promised as she ended the call. "The St. Christopher's medal solidifies your theory, Devin."
"For the fire investigators. It was already rock solid in my mind."
"I know."
"What does Max do?" Devin asked.
"He's a homicide detective. He's Emma's husband. I'm sure he'll do whatever he can to help."
"Happy to have more members on the team."
"It's actually starting to feel like a team." As Devin glanced at his watch, she realized how late it was getting. "We should go see Mrs. Parker. It's almost four."
"You really don’t have to come, Kate."
She hesitated, knowing she was probably intruding, but there was something about the way he'd said it that told her he wanted her to be her usual pushy self. "I'm coming," she said. "My presence might reassure them, let them know the FBI is involved again."
"Or you might get their hopes up. We both know your help comes with an expiration date."
"Well, for the next few days I'm officially yours."
"Officially mine?" he teased.
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Too late to take it back. You can come with me, but I have to warn you if there's anything that's going to drive the hope out of your soul, it will probably be visiting Sam's mother."
"I'll take the risk. Maybe we'll turn things around. We won't let her bring us down; we'll bring her up."
Eleven
Kate's optimism definitely took a hit when she and Devin walked into the Parkers' home, a small three-bedroom house on Potrero Hill, tucked in the middle of a street of attached homes.
Valerie had met them at the door with a relieved smile, but inside the house, the air was dark, cold, and tense. Every curtain, every blind was drawn to block out the light.
While the house wasn't dirty, there was a thickness to the air as if grief permeated every room, every corner. She wondered if she'd made the best choice coming with Devin. He was already operating on too much emotion, too much pain; she was supposed to be the cool, objective one, but meeting Sam's mother was only going to make Samantha Parker and her death more real.
Val flipped the lights on in the living room. "My mom won't let me open the curtains. She says the light hurts her eyes. She has a lot of headaches these days. Lying in a dark, cold room seems to be the only thing that makes her feel marginally better."
"Is she feeling well enough to see us?" Devin asked.
"I'm sure she'll see you. You're her lifeline to Sam." Val paused, giving Devin a pointed look. "Mine, too."
Devin drew in a quick breath, his jaw tightening. "I'm no one's lifeline. I'm just trying to find answers."
"I wish you wouldn't shut me out. We could help each other. It doesn't have to be this way."
"Val, stop. I just came to see your mom."
"I know you blame me, but it's not my fault." Val turned to Kate. "Did he tell you that we were together, that it's my fault he was late getting to Sam? Did he tell you that he can't look at me without hating me?"
Kate couldn't begin to understand whatever was going on between Devin and Val, but she could see the pain in the woman's eyes.
"Don't bring her into this," Devin said. "And I don't hate you. It wasn't your fault. I've told you that dozens of times."
"You say it, but you don't mean it—not really."
Devin sighed. "I don't know what else to tell you. Just get your mom."
Val frowned but did as he asked.
"Sorry," Devin muttered. "I have told Val it's not her fault a thousand times."
"Probably as many times as everyone in your life has told you, but guilt isn't something that gets talked away."
"That's true."
"Maybe Val cared more for you than you cared for her."
"It's not about that. She's been involved with two different men since Sam died. She broke up with the latest one last week; that's why she's suddenly looking at me again. She doesn't like to be alone. She never did, but now it's worse, because before she had a sister to call when her life got too quiet, too empty. I'm fairly sure she used her mom to get me to come over here—not just for her mom, but also for her. Look at this house. It's like a mausoleum."
"It is depressing." She walked across the room and paused in front of the fireplace. On the mantel were several framed photographs, one a family shot of the Parkers, obviously taken in happier times. Like Val, Samantha had dark brown hair and eyes, but she was more serious in expression than Val. She had a penetrating gaze that was sharp and intelligent. Her face matched that of her dad while her mom seemed to look more like Val, with rounder, softer features. "Good-looking family," she commented as Devin joined her.
"I use
d to tease Sam about that picture. I told her she looked suspicious, as if she thought the cameraman was there for some other reason than to take a family photograph."
She smiled, happy to hear more nostalgic fondness than pain in Devin's voice. "She does have a wary look about her."
"She was always wary. She was always looking for a hidden agenda, a dark secret. She would try to take people at face value, but she just couldn't do it."
"Suspicion can make a good analyst, but it can also weigh you down."
"It weighed her down," Devin agreed. "I used to tell her to take some time off, go on vacation, not take her work so seriously, but she never listened. When she was on a case, she was a bulldog. She wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep. I think she had a little obsessive-compulsive in her. But that determination usually got her to the truth. I remember one of the training exercises at the academy. We were supposed to figure out where two kidnappers had hidden three hostages they'd taken during a bank robbery. There were six of us on the team, and five of us went in one direction and Sam went in the other. She was convinced there was a connection between one of the hostages and one of the kidnappers."
"I'm betting she was right."
"Yes, she was. She was always looking for the angle."
"You do that, too, Devin."
"Maybe I learned something from her."
"Maybe she learned something from you. I have a feeling your partnership wasn't one-sided. I've only been working with you a few days, and I already know that you bring a lot to the table."
"I'm surprised you'd say that. I haven't accomplished much the last year and a half."
"You've done a lot, but you're following someone who goes underground for periods of time. You've had to wait, but you've kept the pressure on, and you're still on the case. If you weren't, no one would know that Monday's fire was important and connected to those in the past."
"Well, we still have to catch the person. We're a long way from doing that."
Tender Is The Night (Callaways Book 10) Page 11
