Burning Embers (Alexis Parker Book 17)

by G. K. Parks

  “I heard.”

  “Do you think they arrested the right guy this time?”

  “Chef Strader didn’t firebomb Easton’s house or burn down Sizzle.”

  “I’m aware.”

  I gave Cross a sideways glance. “You were wrong.”

  “You do enjoy pointing that out.” He looked behind us before turning back to me. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Payne came to Martin’s apartment building the night of the fire. He personally checked the areas where your techs found the chemical compound. And he was outside my apartment last night when the fire broke out.”

  “When it broke out or after?”

  “I don’t know.” I looked at Cross. “Do you?”

  He shook his head. “I spent a good deal of today pulling strings and reviewing nearby CCTV feeds. I didn’t see anyone go inside prior to the fire.”

  “The cameras at my apartment, my old apartment, are shitty.”

  “I would have installed some of our equipment if you had asked.”

  “If I knew this was going to happen, I would have.” I stared into the crowd. “I hate this. I approached Payne. I told him it was arson, and I told him I wouldn’t let this go. That’s why he did it. That’s why a bunch of people are homeless, hurt, scared, and,” my mind went to Tara, “dead.”

  “This isn’t your fault.”

  “No, but no matter how many times I say it, the more it feels like it is.” A car backfired, and I jumped, reaching for my gun. Cross did the same. Before either of us drew our weapons, the security team told us what happened, and we relaxed. “Easton didn’t hear that.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He would be cowering on the floor in a quivering ball if he did.”

  Cross gave me a funny look. “I’ve spent quite a bit of time with the chef after I returned from my trip. He’s been strutting around my office like a peacock with that ridiculous blue and silver tuft of hair. I thought he’d at least pretend to act more macho than that.”

  “Fear is fear. It doesn’t matter who you are. You can’t just will yourself to not be afraid.”

  “The people who work for me don’t act like cowards.”

  “That doesn’t mean we’re not scared.” I glanced at Cross again. “Have you seen Renner? He said he’d meet me here, but I haven’t seen him.”

  Cross looked around again before keying the radio. “Does anyone have eyes on Bennett Renner?” A chorus of negatives came through the earpiece. “When’s the last time you spoke to him?”

  “At the office. He said he wanted to check on a hunch.”

  Cross pulled out his phone and dialed Renner’s number. “He told me he was dropping off a retainer contract with Mr. Zedula. He might have gotten held up.”

  “Again?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” The call went to voicemail, and Cross frowned at his phone. “Do you want to give it a shot?”

  I texted Renner, asking for his current location and ETA. A moment later, my phone chimed. I read the message and held it up for Cross to see.

  I found something you need to see. It’s about the fires. Can you meet me now?

  Lucien jerked his chin toward the entrance. “Go. I’ll keep an eye on things here.”

  “Make sure the police don’t let things get out of hand,” I teased.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t. And I’ll make sure they don’t get out of hand either.”

  Rolling my eyes, I sent back a response asking Renner for his location. When he didn’t reply immediately, I tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail. Before I had time to wonder if he ignored the call, he texted the address, apologizing for not answering since cell service was spotty.

  I programmed the address into the GPS, wondering why he wanted to meet at an old paint factory. Maybe he found where Payne stashed the chemicals. That’s what we had been discussing before he left to follow his hunch. According to the navigation system, the drive should take ten minutes. I wouldn’t be waiting in suspense for long.

  Seven minutes later, my phone rang. I glanced down and hit the speaker button. “Hey, Martin, is everything okay?”

  “Where are you?”

  “On my way to meet Renner.”

  “I thought you and the rest of Cross Security were supposed to be working the fairgrounds for Chef Easton’s opening.”

  “Renner had a hunch. I don’t know what it is, but Cross has a bunch of guys covering the food truck, and the police are out in force. Easton’s safe. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, fine.” Martin sounded distracted. “I didn’t know where we were sleeping tonight. When you stopped by for lunch, you didn’t seem keen on the idea of going home. I assume it’s because of the fire and the close call at our apartment.”

  “Look, Voletek arrested a suspect, the arson investigator I spoke to last night. He’s been at both our apartment buildings and has photos and inspection certificates hanging in his house like trophies.” And the receipt from Sizzle. Payne had to be our guy. Hopefully, Renner found enough evidence to put Payne behind bars for decades.

  “So we can go home?”

  “You can go home. My name’s not on the property records. You’ll be safe. I want to see what Renner’s found before I make any hard and fast commitments.”

  “It’s too late. You already did,” Martin teased.

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know, but you have to sleep somewhere. Unless you want to explain to Lucien tomorrow morning why he found us spooning on the couch in your office, you might want to consider picking a place with a real bed.”

  I pulled to a stop in front of the building, spotting Renner’s company car and a familiar hunter green 4x4 parked at the side door. “What the hell is Haskell doing here?”

  “Alex?”

  “Sorry, something’s up. I’ll call you back.”

  Haskell was waiting inside his jeep. He waved at me and rolled down his window. “Hey, do you know what this is about?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Mr. Renner called and told me to meet him down here. He said he needed my expertise on something, but he’s not picking up his phone.” Haskell showed me the list of unanswered calls.

  “Did you try texting? He said cell service is spotty.” I looked up at the building, an uneasiness creeping into my bones. “The equipment inside could be interfering.”

  Haskell climbed out of the car. “Should we go inside?”

  I peered into Renner’s car, but aside from the normal collection of fast food wrappers and fountain drink cups, I didn’t see anything indicative of where he was or what he was on to. “I guess so.”

  The side door was cracked open. The chain that had secured it in place had been cut and was lying in a heap beside the door with a block propping it open. Haskell pulled the door wider. “Ladies first.”

  I stepped into the dark factory and turned on my flashlight. “Bennett?” Haskell coughed loudly, and I glanced back at him while he bent forward and continued to hack. “Are you okay, Mr. Haskell?”

  “Dust,” he choked out. He straightened, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. “Did you hear that?” I didn’t hear anything except his coughing. “Mr. Renner?” He pointed toward a door at the side. “I think I heard something coming from there.”

  “Bennett?” I tried again, but Haskell beelined for the doorway. My gaze swept the area, and I undid the snap on my holster. The air felt electric. I stayed close to the wall, following the path Haskell took. “Hold up,” I said, stopping Haskell at the next door. Reaching for my phone, I dialed Renner’s number, but I didn’t have a signal. “That’s weird.”

  “What is it?”

  “No signal.”

  Haskell dug out his phone and checked the display. “Mine neither.” He looked back at the narrow strip of light coming from the crack in the door. “Do you want to call for backup?”

  Renner’s car was here, which meant he had to be close, but I k
new something wasn’t right. “I’ll keep looking. Would you mind calling Cross and telling him where we are?”

  “I’ll make the call, but I’m not comfortable leaving you alone in here, not until we find Mr. Renner. What do you think he wanted to show us?”

  “I don’t know.” I jerked my chin toward the door. “Go make the call. I’ll wait here. I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.”

  “Be careful.” Haskell went back to the door, and I pulled my gun and cautiously opened the interior door. “Renner?” I hissed. I didn’t hear anything, so I crept forward, letting my flashlight beam lead the way. Finding a light switch on the wall, I flipped it, but it didn’t do anything. The power had been turned off. “Renner? Where are you?”

  The hallway opened up into a large square room, which squatters had used at some point. Makeshift tents and mattresses lined three of the four walls. Some graffiti covered the dusty, flat surfaces. Two paths broke off from this central room, one going straight back and the other off to the right.

  A snuffling noise sounded from behind, followed by more hacking coughs. I turned my flashlight on Haskell, noticing blood in the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away with a tissue which was more red than white.

  “How bad is it?” I asked, lowering the beam of light.

  “What?”

  I jerked my chin at the tissue he hid away. “You don’t have a cold or allergies, do you?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he picked a path and pushed his way to the right. “Mr. Renner?”

  I followed behind, the familiar twitching nagging at me from the back of my mind. My thoughts flashed back to the green 4x4. It fit the description of the truck the firebomber drove. “After we find Renner and he shows us whatever it is he wants to show us, we should get some soup. Easton makes a wonderful beef and vegetable.”

  “I don’t eat fancy stuff like that.”

  “Oh, come on, it’ll be great. My treat.” The hairs at the back of my neck prickled. “Did you have a bad experience at a fancy restaurant?”

  “Not me, my granddaughter.”

  “Food poisoning?” I asked.

  “No,” Haskell spun to face me, “she waitressed to help pay for college. God knows her parents couldn’t afford tuition, and on my salary, neither could I.”

  “What happened?” I asked, my eyes darting to the single room at the end of the corridor. “Renner?” I called again, but Haskell didn’t even wait to see if my colleague would reply before launching into his story.

  “The chef took a liking to her. She was young, smart, and entirely out of his league. He was older,” he sneered, “a predator really. She was still a baby. My grandbaby. He knocked her up. I don’t even think the bastard knew, or he just didn’t care. She miscarried, and it destroyed her. She dropped out of school.” Haskell squeezed his eyes shut. “She tried to kill herself. She didn’t succeed, but you can see it in her eyes now. She doesn’t care if she lives or dies.”

  “Where did she work?”

  Haskell didn’t answer. He turned his head and coughed again. This time, blood and spittle painted the wall. “I’d gladly trade places with her, but it looks like I’m the one dying and she wishes she was.”

  “Cancer?”

  He chuckled cynically and rubbed his chest. “Years of fighting fires and this is what’s gonna do me in.” Bitterness and resentment contorted his face into a hateful mask. “I told the brass the safety inspections were too lax. Too many corners were getting cut. Too many questionable materials were allowed in construction, but they all got kickbacks. None of them cared. We’re just grunts working the front line. What do we know? We’re expendable and interchangeable. We get a watch and a shitty pension, and they count the seconds until we drop dead, hoping we don’t have a surviving spouse so they don’t have to pay anymore and we aren’t a drain on the budget.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “If they listened, if they made the inspections more stringent, most of the fires I reported to, that other men reported to, never would have happened. We wouldn’t have been exposed to as much. We wouldn’t be sick now. And the best part is with fewer fires there would be less expense. They still would have benefitted, but they didn’t listen.” The venom in his voice raised the hairs on the back of my neck, and I lowered the flashlight and reached into my pocket. Turning to the side, I glanced down, seeing one bar. It wasn’t much, but I had to be sure. Renner’s number was still on my screen, and I pressed dial.

  A second later, the phone in Haskell’s pocket rang.

  Forty

  I aimed at Haskell, a lighter materializing in his hand. He flicked it, holding the flame up. “Where’s Renner?”

  The arsonist stared at me like I was nothing more than a hindrance. “Look around, Ms. Parker. This corridor is coated in flammable chemicals. One spark and the entire place goes up. You should think twice before shooting me.”

  I glanced around, seeing piles of discarded towels, crumpled up papers, and other flammable items nearby. “Where’s Renner? What did you do to him?”

  Haskell pointed to the doorway at the end of the hallway. “He’s fine. I just needed him out of the way for a little while. I didn’t hurt him. I’m on a crusade to get the city to enact more stringent safety inspections. I was providing a public service. I wanted to make the brass see reason. Last night’s fire was supposed to distract you and encourage Cross Security to take up my cause. No one was supposed to get hurt.”

  I moved backward, never taking my eyes off Haskell. “You killed someone last night. You tried to kill Easton Lango twice. You wanted to hurt him. What changed? What happened to your noble cause?”

  Haskell scoffed. “A week after I retired, I was diagnosed, went through treatment, and was in remission. Eight months ago, I got the bad news. They said I had a year left. If I’m going out, that prick is coming with me. He doesn’t deserve to live after what he did to my granddaughter.”

  “You don’t think he deserves a future because you don’t have one?”

  Haskell held the lighter in front of him, realizing I might still shoot him. “I’m not crazy or evil. I’m doling out justice. Same as you.”

  “That’s what you call what happened to Tara last night? That was justice?”

  “That wasn’t my fault. If they listened, the safety inspector would have identified the issues inside your building and had them fixed. The fire in your apartment would have left a burn on the floor and that would have been it. That’s what was supposed to have happened. If stupid Ted ever did his fucking job right, last night wouldn’t have ended in tragedy.”

  “Is he your accomplice?”

  “He’s my worst failure.”

  “Did you have him spray your chemical cocktail inside the buildings?”

  “No,” Haskell glared at me, the lighter the only thing keeping me from tackling him to the ground and cuffing him, “I told Ted about the lax standards and warned him about the construction crews using shitty materials, but he didn’t get it. So I took matters into my own hands. When the fires started, I figured he’d see reason, but he didn’t.”

  “How’d you get access to the buildings?”

  “I still have friends in the department. I know what inspections are on the books, so I put on some of my old turnout gear and show up a few weeks early. I spray down the place and wait to see what happens. If the inspectors do their jobs, the buildings will be fine. There won’t be any exploitable weaknesses, but if they fail, you know what happens.”

  “You go back and set the fires.”

  “No,” he screamed. “The fires happened because of electrical weaknesses. I didn’t set them. The only fires I set were to that asshole’s restaurant, his house, and your apartment. The fire department set the others by failing to raise their standards and identify weaknesses. None of those buildings would have burned if the actual inspectors did their fucking jobs. Those fires weren’t my fault. It’s the department’s fault.”

  It didn’t look that way from wh
ere I stood. “What about Sizzle?”

  “That was different. That was personal. It took time and planning. I had to sit through an entire meal that asshole prepared and pretend to compliment him, just to get access to his keys. Once I had a copy, I waited every fucking night for him to be alone. Except he’s like a cockroach. He just won’t die. Tonight, that’s gonna change. I just needed to get you and Renner out of the way.”

  “Parker?” Renner’s voice sounded from the room behind me.

  “Are you okay?” I yelled.

  “It’s Haskell,” Renner replied.

  “I know.” I stared at the hero turned villain, wondering if there was any chance he was bluffing. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m stuck,” Renner said.

  “I didn’t hurt him. I just locked him inside and took his phone. Now it’s your turn. I don’t need either of you interfering. The only thing that matters is ridding this world of that prick of a chef. I don’t want to hurt you. Once it’s done, someone will find you.” He jerked his chin at the locked door. “Now get inside.”

  Reluctantly, I flipped the lock and opened the door. Renner was pinned beneath a heavy shelf. Blood coated the floor. The former detective struggled to get free, and I spun, lunging for Haskell.

  He stumbled backward, dropping the lighter. It fell to the ground, igniting a path of chemicals and setting the nearest pile of cloth and papers on fire, separating us by a barrier of flame. I aimed, but Haskell was halfway down the hall.

  For a dying man, Haskell moved fast, bolting for the door as the fire lined both sides of the hallway. The flames in the middle burned out, clearing the path, but I couldn’t chase after him. I had to get Renner out.

  “The next time you have a hunch, you better tell me what it is.” I moved to the side, seeing Renner’s hip and thigh pinned beneath the corner of the large metal shelf.

  “He locked me in here. I tried to break the guard rail off the front of the shelf to use as a pry bar, but the bolt against the wall must have rusted. It snapped, and the whole damn thing came down on top of me.”