by Lexy Timms
He patted the spot next to him to invite Becca to sit down, and when she did, he handed her a small stack of files to read through. “Left stack possible same guy, right stack no chance it was him.” He stood. “I’m going to go flirt with a guy.” He shook his head as he turned. “Take one for the team, my ass.”
“Sounds good,” Becca mumbled, already sifting through the files as fast as she could. Sam disappeared behind the aisle and she scan through the files, one after another, starting with the most recent liquor store fire all the way back to several fires dating back ten years. She had no idea how long Sam was gone. She was trembling and fighting back tears as she came across the file for the fire that killed her brother. Going through all the evidence, it appeared that she had been right, that it could have been the exact same arsonist setting fire to all of Phoenix.
She heard Sam’s voice extra loud and she quickly stuffed the files back into the cabinet as quickly as she could. One remained and she hid it under her shirt before she stood up to see Sam and the rookie near the door entrance. She wiped the tears from her eyes.
Sam noticed Becca and came over to wrap an arm around her shoulder and squeeze her body against his to try and comfort her.
“Everything okay?” the rookie asked.
“My mother’s ring is still missing. I’m just sad about it.” She ignored the confused look Sam gave her.
Sam cleared his throat. “We’re going to catch this guy, Becca.”
“I know. Just hurts, this guy has been doing this for so long... leaving broken families everywhere...”
“Pardon?” The rookie looked back and forth between the two of them in confusion.
“No one else is going to lose a loved one, we’ll make sure of that.”
Becca nodded. She knew Sam was referring to Corey’s death, not some stupid ring story.
“I’m going to take her home. She looks like she needs a... a... stiff cup of tea.”
The rookie patted Sam’s arm. “That’s mighty kind of you. Good luck. And you have my number...”
“That I do! Th-Thanks, rook—Joey.”
He led Becca out of the police station and to the truck. “Never again,” he muttered. They climbed back into the truck and headed toward his apartment. “Did you find anything?”
She filled him in on the files, noting Corey’s last before pulling the file out of the back of her shirt. “I think this was his first, take a look.”
Sam pulled over against the curb and put the truck in park. Becca scooted across the seat to sit closer to Sam, placing the file in between them so they could both look at it.
“What’s so special about this one?” Sam read through it but couldn’t see what Becca was seeing.
“Look at this. It was an abandoned shed at some random house which could be anyone, but they completely ignored what they found inside.”
Sam read more of the file, using his finger to keep his place. “So what? They found a bunch of burnt up rats. It was an abandoned shed, the rats probably nested there.”
“In metal cages? And boxes?”
“What?”
“Look at the photos. There are crates near all the rat bodies. There’s a cardboard box, too. It’s pretty burnt up but look closely.” Becca pointed to small pieces of the photos in the file, trying to show Sam what she was seeing. “Don’t you see the holes?”
“So what?”
“Sam, the holes are all chewed. The rats chewed their way out of the box.”
“So? Rats chew things.”
“My bet is they were trapped in that box when the arsonist set the fire. He started with small and went bigger and bigger.”
“That still could have been anyone. Who doesn’t hate rats?”
“Sam, they were his first. I noticed that every single file that seemed similar to the pattern has had at least one victim.”
“I’m sure the police have noticed that too. They’re forensic experts. They don’t miss stuff like this.”
“I think it’s his signature. He doesn’t just set fires to burn, he sets them to kill.”
Sam stared at the file. “No wonder the police don’t want us involved. They aren’t just investigating an arsonist. They’re investigating a serial killer.”
“A serial killer who killed my brother.” Becca bit down on her lower lip, trying to fight back tears again. No one believed her as a kid. Maybe they would now. Except it was too late now. How many had died in the meantime?
Sam pulled her against his side and hugged her tightly. He kissed the top of her head and tried to rock her to a sense of calm. “We’ll figure this out, Becks, and we’ll get justice for Corey.”
“For Corey.” Becca nodded and straightened her back. They needed to focus and find this ass-wipe. She closed the stolen file and pounded it with her fist. “Ok, so we know he likes to kill, what does he like to burn?”
“You sound like a police detective.”
“Whatever it takes.”
“You saw the files. What kinds of things has he set fire to?”
Becca mentally sifted through the files. “I don’t know for sure. There’s always at least one victim, but the buildings themselves have nothing in common. He burns sheds, stores, houses, and cars... whatever he feels like.”
“So no pattern.”
“None.”
“That doesn’t make sense. He should have a preference.”
She tried thinking like a firefighter. What were the ignitors? “He seems to like gas and butane.”
“What?” Sam stared at her in surprise. “How do you mean?”
“Every fire was set with gasoline and a metal butane lighter. No prints on them, and the police passed them off as garbage left around. My bet is it’s the arsonist leaving a gift. An expensive one if I remember the images correctly.”
“Like a clue. Or his signature mark. Like he’s teasing the cops?”
“I think so. It’s become a game.”
Sam tapped his thumb against the steering wheel. “We’re assuming this is a he. It could be a female, but let’s go with the male persona.” He nodded to himself. “So he likes using fancy lighters.”
“Seems so, which means he has a good amount of cash to use. Those aren’t cheap.”
“It’s all a game. So he likes leaving clues.”
And tormenting. Becca hoped he didn’t tease or torment his victims as well. “So the suspect has money, and an addiction to killing and burning.” She stared at the dashboard. “Does Trevor have money?”
“You still think its Trevor? You better tell me why now.”
“The burnt rose today, it’s not the first one I’ve received.”
“What? And you kept that to yourself?”
“I thought it was a cruel prank.”
“When did you get another?” He stared at her closely. “There’s been more than one?” He frowned. “You’d better start spilling the beans, Becca. This isn’t grade school bullying. This is deadly serious.”
She sighed, ashamed she hadn’t said anything earlier. She had just brushed the first one off and chalked everything else up to coincidence. “I was at Corey’s grave the day I arrived. I closed my eyes for, like, a moment and when I looked up, there was a white rose on fire, just lying there on his tombstone.”
Sam shook his head. “That’s sick.”
“I thought it was a cruel prank, because of how Corey died. I didn’t think it was a psycho arsonist.”
“Then what makes you put the blame on Trevor?”
“The white rose he gave me the other day made me have a total flashback to the rose.”
“Same roses?”
“Same white roses, and when I was sick he weirdly showed up.”
“That was kinda strange for him to come by the fire station.”
“He left me a bouquet of the same type of roses, and I’m pretty sure it was him who left the flaming rose in the truck.”
“So because he keeps giving you flowers, you think it’s Trevor?”
�
�Pretty much.”
“While it makes him look odd, it doesn’t prove anything and the police aren’t going to buy that.”
“Maybe they will. Or they’ll look into him.”
“And if he’s the arsonist, it’ll just give him a warning to be careful. If it’s not him, the real arsonist might go into hiding.” Sam rubbed his temple. “Trevor doesn’t have that kind of cash to buy $400 butane lighters.”
“I still think we should check him out. Without the police involved.”
“I agree.”
Police lights flashed behind them in the rear view mirror.
“Oh shit.” Sam straightened and Becca quickly slid back to her seat.
A tap sounded on the driver’s window. “License and registration.”
Sam rolled down the window. “What’s the problem, officer?”
Becca bent down to peer out Sam’s window. She saw the rookie standing behind the other officer, looking embarrassed and guilty. Shit!
“Step out of the vehicle with your hands up.” The officer stepped back, his hand on the hilt of his gun.
Sam did as he was instructed and Becca did the same. Another police officer stood on her side.
The one by Sam glared at both of them as they were instructed to place their hands on the hood of the truck. He leaned in to the truck cab and came out, shaking the file Becca had stolen. “Interfering with a police investigation?”
“Helping.” Sam smiled his most charming smile, as if hoping the police would let them just walk away.
“We did not ask for the fire station’s help.” The officer glared at him and then at the rookie who quickly dropped his head down to stare at the ground. “We don’t want the fire station’s help. What you two are doing is a felony.”
“We found some evidence that could help.” Becca tried to clear her voice. “I’m the one who took the file, not Sam.”
“I’m sure you did. I’m also sure your evidence helps you and your firefighters out a lot. Officers, arrest these two for interfering with an ongoing investigation, and breaking and entering into a government building.”
The officers nodded and one of them began reading them their rights, while two others put them both in handcuffs and escorted them to two separate cruisers.
Chapter 19
Becca fought the entire length of her processing, screaming at the officers that if they did their jobs correctly the arsonist would be behind bars and not her. Sam, on the other hand, walked calmly and quietly through his processing, not wanting the police chief to have any more reason to keep them locked up. He also knew a record would jeopardize both Becca’s and his careers. Becca knew it too; she was just too angry and caught in the past of Corey’s death to care.
They were processed right next to each other. Sam kept whispering for Becca to settle down, but once she started shouting about her brother, his warnings fell on deaf ears. Sam sighed and leaned back against the chair, wiggling his wrists within the cuffs.
“So what is it going to take for us to not be formally charged?”
“That’s up to the chief. I’m just in charge of processing.” The rookie refused to look Sam in the eye.
“There has to be something you could tell me. How bad is it looking for us?”
“You or her?”
“There’s a difference?”
“I’m right here, in the same room, guys,” Becca snapped.
The rookie rolled his eyes and glared at her. “Chief is considering charging her with resisting arrest on top of everything else.”
“What does that look like record wise?”
“Bad. All charges added together, you’re looking at ten to fifteen.”
“Shit.”
“No kidding! You shouldn’t have tried to play me up.” The rookie shook his head. “You two should have stuck to fires and let us real police deal with the arson.”
“Guess so. Lucky for us we have information we could share with the police.” Sam snorted.
“As if we’d believe you. Trying to save your own asses is not very truth bringing.” The rookie glared at Sam.
“Guess we’ll wait and see.” Sam sighed and stopped talking.
Becca wanted to scream. The police officer was determined to get them processed and charged. He radiated a hatred for firefighters that Becca couldn’t pin down until she saw a photo on his desk. The person in the photo resembled one of the photos she had seen in the arson case files. Probably a family member. After that, she gave up completely. Firefighters had failed him, and he wasn’t going to help her or Sam.
Becca was then pulled off to an investigation room with the chief. She sat, leaning over the table and tugging at her handcuffs, looking around the room to see if she could figure out where the cameras were directed. As soon as she found one, she stuck her tongue out at it. Moments later, the chief walked in and sat at in the chair across from her.
“If you plead out, your sentence will be lighter. Possibly, anyway.”
“Plead out for what?” This was such bullshit. Sure, she’d taken the file and snuck into the police file room... but still. All this because of one silly thing? Ok... two things.
“Interfering with a police investigation, tampering with evidence, and resisting arrest.”
“I was pissed off, not resisting.”
“And the others?”
“I was trying to help.”
“We told you not to interfere.”
“You also didn’t tell anyone you were hunting a serial killer.”
The police chief stared at Becca a moment before looking at the two-way mirror. He made a cutting motion with his hands at his neck, signalling them to turn off the mic and recording system.
“So you read the files? Not just the one you stole?”
“All of them.”
“You aren’t allowed to have that information. It’s classified to the police force.”
“What if I could tell you who the arsonist was?”
“You got that from a stack of files, did you?”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t play with me, little girl. I know your brother’s in those files. You’re just as desperate and clouded in your thoughts as any other victim who’s lost someone.”
“I’m not playing with you. I spotted things the police didn’t even notice were part of the arson’s signature.”
“His signature? You mean other than burning things and killing people?” the chief mocked.
“Yes, and I would be happy to help the police if you’d get me out of these cuffs.”
“Why don’t you tell me and I’ll decide if it’s worth removing your cuffs.” He was playing her, and she knew it.
“No deal. I want a guarantee that you won’t charge me or Sam if we share our information.”
“Not sharing information about a crime makes you an accessory to the crime, did you know that?”
“Are you threatening me? All I’m trying to do is help!”
“So help. Tell me what you know.”
“Let us out of custody.”
“I’m not against adding an Accessory charge to the long list of charges you are already facing.”
Becca sighed in defeat, pushing herself off the table and leaning back against the cold, metal chair. She tried to stare the police chief down one more time before giving in to his request. “Fine. Sam and I had nothing to do with the fires. My brother was killed in a fire eight years ago, just like the one this afternoon.”
“That makes me think we do have the right person in handcuffs. You come back because you’re mad someone rebuilt the little cabin in the woods?” he mocked.
“No, you have the completely wrong person! I’m more determined than anyone else to see this person behind bars.” She took a deep breath. “I’m pretty sure it’s Trevor Sinclaire.”
“Why do you think it’s this guy, Sinclaire?” The chief didn’t look like he believed her, but at least he was taking somewhat of an interest.
“Because he�
�s been subtly telling me that it’s him.”
“Really? How so?”
“He’s been leaving me gifts. Flowers on fire.”
The police chief shook his head. “And you didn’t think to tell the police this until now?”
“Not until I was sure it was important. At first I thought it was just a dumb prank someone was pulling now that I’ve come back to Phoenix.”
“And what are you doing back in Phoenix? I know you didn’t transfer to work at the fire station. I would have seen those records.”
“I’m a beta tester for safety gear. I’m here to test new equipment.”
“And just decided to fight fire on the side during your visit?”
“Yes, and the Chief approved it.”
“I see. Well, we’ll look into this Sinclaire for you. But you’re going to sit tight in a cell for a few days. We’ll see if there are any more fires while you’re locked up.”
“Sir, please don’t do that. More people are going to get hurt.”
“We’ll see.” He shook his head. “Or maybe there won’t be any more while you two are behind bars.”
“You’re making a huge mistake.”
“Can you prove that? Do you have any other information, other than this gut feeling about the Sinclaire guy? Where are the flowers? Where’s the proof?”
“I threw them out,” she said quietly. Becca sat there staring at the police chief. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell him about the lighters and the gasoline, and how every single fire is connected back to that fire with the rats. She sighed and mumbled a few profanities while he stared at her, waiting for an answer.
“Well? Do you have anything else or not?”
“No.”
“Then enjoy your stay. Think about what the hell you’re doing, and why, while you’re here.”
Becca grunted in frustration, banging her cuffed hands against the hard metal table as the chief walked out of the room, leaving the door open for an officer to come and fetch her. The officer dragged her off toward the holding cells in the station, tossing her into the cell right next to Sam’s.
The officer un-cuffed her as soon as she was in the cell, grinning as he started to walk out. “Guess firefighters shouldn’t try and be cops.” He was laughing as he closed the door behind him, locking Becca in.
