Fire Angel (13 page)

“Security had been breached, and the insurgents managed to get the route my detail would take. We were on our way back to the base when a roadside bomb exploded. It killed everyone except me, and several cases of vital medical supplies were stolen. I lost most of my left leg. If it hadn't been for David's skills, I'd have died. Sometimes, especially at night when I'm tired, or if the weather is bad, it feels like my leg is still there and it aches like the dickens. I told you about the problem I have with noise. To use your words, just a little thing I picked up overseas — what's left of my PTSD.”

He carried the guilt that he had been the one to introduce Jasim, Irena's brother, to the camp. He had even gotten him a job as an orderly.
Talk about a fox among the chickens
, he thought.

“PTSD, it sounds familiar. What is it?” she asked.

“Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, it's an anxiety disorder caused by undergoing a distressing experience like surviving a disaster or being involved in combat. You probably suffered from it after the attempt on your life; that might be why you're still afraid of the dark.”

“That's what you meant last night when you said your lifestyle changed; your leg won't let you come and go as you please,” she said.

“That's right.” He stood abruptly. “Now, if you're ready, I'll go get my coat and keys.”

“Wait, Jake. I'm sorry if I've made you feel uncomfortable. I didn't mean to upset you.”

He smiled at her hoping that his sadness didn't show. “You could never upset me; we're friends, remember?”

She smiled back at him and stood.

“Well, friend, let's blow this joint and get to work.”

“Have you got everything you need?” he asked helping her on with her coat.

Alexis nodded her head and pointed to her tool kit. “I've got everything right here.”

Jake looked at her. “Good; I'll be back. Go wait for me at the main entrance; I'll be right there.”

When he pulled the truck up to the front door, Alexis was waiting for him, and from the smile on her face, he gathered that his decision to take the truck had been the right one.

“Nice wheels,” she said as she got in. “Definitely more road worthy than my little red coupe.”

He laughed and reversed the vehicle. He drove out of the parking lot and turned right towards the town.

“When we made plans earlier, I wasn't paying attention to the time. It's almost two-thirty; since Duffy's is on Elm Street, on the way to the station, I thought we'd stop there first, while we have daylight. Is that okay?”

“That makes sense. We can always go back again, if I need a second look at something, after I've checked the evidence at the station.”

The ride into town was a comfortable one with the two of them discussing some of the finer points of the case.

The Bluetooth Jake was wearing sounded. He reached up to tap the device on his ear, redirecting the call to the vehicle's speaker phone system.

“The call's from Everett,” he told her. “Hello Everett, you're on speaker phone and Alexis is with me. What can we do for you?”

“I just wanted to let you know that the body count is in. The total is sixteen: the twelve from last night, plus a pregnant girl, two other children, and an older woman. The staff members were Howard Sims and Alicia Watters; smoke inhalation for all of them, although there were some post-mortem burns. The medical examiner in North Bay has the bodies recovered inside. We all thought the pregnant girl would be fine; she was one of the first to get out thanks to those boys, but she had difficulty breathing and went into respiratory arrest. Personally, I'd call it seventeen dead. I've asked the M.E. to check for Rohypnol; he thought I was nuts, but agreed to do it. The shelter will be out of commission for the foreseeable future; it's a great loss to the community.”

Jake could see the tears running silently down Alexis's cheeks. He wanted to stop the vehicle and take her into his arms, but there was no place to pull off the road here. He reached over and squeezed her hand, offering sympathy with his eyes; it was the best he could do. He listened to the chief's other information concerning the note Alexis had handed over.

“So, they've sent the envelope for DNA testing, but who knows? I think this guy is too smart to have left spit where he knew we'd test for it.”

“Thanks for letting us know, Everett. We're on our way to Duffy's Garage. When Alexis finishes there, we'll go by Providence House. Then we'll come into the station to look over the files. Does she have the necessary codes and a place to work?”

“Lynette took care of all that. Alexis, we've given you space in the conference room next to Jake's office. Everything we have is at your disposal. We need to get this monster. Call me if you need anything else.”

“Thanks.” Jake closed the call, and signaled a right turn.

He stopped in front of Duffy's Garage and shuddered, reminded of similar scenes in Afghanistan and photographs he'd seen of bombed out structures in other war-torn countries. The shell of the building, blackened cement walls, stood amidst a parking lot full of debris. It was amazing that the whole area hadn't gone up in smoke.

The smell of gasoline and burned rubber still lingered in the air. He watched Alexis take out a pair of yellow coveralls and slip them over her clothing. She added rubberized booties and rubber gloves and held a face mask in her hand. She'd used her puffer before leaving the inn, so the mask should be enough to protect her from any lingering poisonous fumes.

“Jake, could you check over there, in that park, and see if you can find anything? I'm sure the techs collected as much as they could, but would you walk over to that rise and see if you can find anything that might point to where our guy stood watching. He had to have watched from someplace, and that would have given him the best, possibly the safest viewing point. I have a feeling that this one might have surprised him. I'm going to have a look inside.”

He reluctantly agreed, knowing that to argue the point with her would just make her angry, and wandered across the street, not pleased with the fact that Alexis was in that dangerous building alone. He knew that it had been stabilized, but he cursed himself for not arranging to have back-up in place. He quickened his pace; he didn't expect to find much; after all, the fire had taken place a month ago.

As expected the area had been picked clean, and he was about to turn back when he noticed a small scrap of fabric caught on a leafless bush. There would still have been leaves on it in October. He walked over the lumpy, frozen ground, the hardness of it jarring his leg, and bent to collect the scrap. He tucked it into the baggie he carried and stared at it. Was that dark brown stain blood? Plaid shirts were as common here as Stetsons in Texas, but if this was blood, then the perp had been injured and they'd have DNA for sure.

He looked down at the ground near the bush which would have provided some cover and found another bit of fabric. When he picked it up, he saw remnants of paper, the kind used to roll cigarettes or joints. Bagging his new treasures, he scoured the area once more. He noted that the neighboring street formed the southern boundary of this residential park. The killer could easily have parked his car here and walked over to the garage, but how had he incapacitated the mechanics? Finding nothing else, he turned around and started to walk back to the garage and Alexis. He looked down at his watch and flinched. Was it possible that he had spent half an hour here? He hurried towards the street. Anything could have happened to her — some partner he was!

As he came over the top of the hill, he saw Alexis leaving the garage. He let out a sigh. Thank God, she was safe.

Jake smiled as she approached; even in baggy coveralls, she was beautiful. She had smudges of dirt on her face, and he wanted to lick it clean. He settled for handing her his handkerchief.

“Thanks.” She took the handkerchief and wiped her face. He pointed to a spot she'd missed. She gave him the cloth and smiled at him.

“You do it, I don't have a mirror.” Jake gently wiped the dirt from her cheek.

“Find anything?” she asked.

Jake held out the baggies with the evidence he had collected. “Yes; I think you may be right about something going wrong here. If these are his, then the fire surprised him. If they aren't, then someone else was injured, and we might have a reluctant witness. Either way, we have someone's DNA.” He held up the other baggie, the one with the scrap of paper.

“This could be from a cigarette or a joint, the lab will know which. It may be nothing, or it could prove that he watched. On the plus side, I think I know where he may have parked his car.”

Alexis smiled. “Well done, partner. I didn't have as much luck, mostly because whatever wasn't destroyed by the blast has been carted away, but I know where he was when the fire started and how it spread. As I suspected, this fire didn't go as he had planned. Buddy isn't as smart as he thought he was. He forgot what a cesspool of flammables a garage is. I believe he started the fire — maybe with gasoline and a cigarette butt — and all hell broke loose. I'll know more when I examine the things they removed. I'm guessing that he got himself invited to their little poker party and somehow managed to sedate them. You did say four chairs had been found, right?”

She peeled off her yellow coveralls and put them on the back seat.

“I had no idea that would take so long. It's almost four. I'm glad you told Everett that we would check out last night's fire before going to the station. I'd like to examine those rooftops myself while we have daylight.” She reached for her camera. “Does that work for you?”

“Your wish is my command, my lady,” he replied and bowed. “Your chariot waits.”

Alexis laughed at his mock chivalry.

“Then, lead on, Sir Jake; we're wasting daylight.”

• • •

There were still police and firefighters on the scene when they arrived. While the firefighters put out hot spots, the officers ensured that no one tried to get too close to the building. Even though only half the structure had burned, there was no telling what kind of structural damage the rest of the building might have suffered. In addition, fire often traveled between floors and walls, and there could be stage three fires just waiting for fresh oxygen to feed them.

Alexis resigned herself to having to wait before she could explore any of the area, but being able to talk to the first responders would have some advantages. These men had been among the first to enter the building, and their impressions would be invaluable. She approached the fire captain on scene and introduced herself.

“Pleased to see you again, Alexis; I'm Peter Quaid. I actually hope that you don't remember me. I used to hang around with James. I owe you an apology for being such an ignorant S.O.B. back then. If it helps, I was pretty ashamed of myself after you left.” He hung his head. “I owe you my thanks, because your leaving town changed my life, forced me to take a real good look at myself, and where I was going. I'm glad to know that things turned out well for you too.”

Alexis smiled awkwardly. “Well, as they say, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.” She was in no mood to hand out absolution at the moment — maybe later, but not now. In her best business-like tone, she questioned him.

“What can you tell me about the fire?”

“My men have been inside the kitchen and upstairs, and it looks like three ignition points — maybe pipe bombs detonated by a cell phone. We've sent a lot of stuff to the crime lab. I think the third bomb detonated in the outside grease pit. Something blew the lid right off. The electrical panel shows that the power to the doors was rewired into the smoke alarms, so that when the alarms went off, the doors closed.”

“Would that have required any kind of expertise?” she asked.

“It's an old system; you wouldn't have to be an electrician to do it. Rewiring information is common on the web. It might have taken about half an hour to do, but the control panel is in the basement, so unless someone went down there for some reason, no one would have noticed.”

His face grew even more serious as he continued his report.

“The bodies in the hallway upstairs and down were badly burned, but my guess would be that the smoke got them first — at least I'd like to think so; the coroner will know for sure. I was the first one inside the boarding house on Sycamore.” He shuddered.

Alexis could empathize. Seeing those bodies would have been hard on anyone.

“The bodies in the bedrooms were in pristine condition. We didn't find any liquor bottles upstairs — the chief asked us to look for them specifically. We found the remains of a gift box filled with a waxy residue on the table in the kitchen — must have been a candle, but the heat melted it. I sent it to the lab along with everything else.”

“Thanks, Peter; you've been a great help. And I'm glad things worked out for you.”

She walked back over towards Jake. It really hadn't been Peter's fault that she had run away, so why blame him? She didn't remember him, or what he was supposed to have done that day. Alexis looked up at Jake, who had come to meet her halfway, and related the information she'd been given.

“I think the target might have been the people in the kitchen,” she said. “Peter said that there were remnants of a gift box on the table. If this guy is ritualistic, and from what you've told me about the way the bodies seem to be posed, I think he is, we may find similar evidence at the other scenes. I don't believe that the bikers were the target; they might have been a bonus, at best. I told you that last night; he put too much work into this for it to be a last minute job. Peter confirmed that; it would have taken at least a half hour just to rewire the doors.”

“Setting the scene is important to him,” said Jake. “He's improvised here. He knew that he couldn't glue the players into position, so he glued the doors. Think about it; the bodies have all been in different positions. In the first fire, the body was lying down, in the second, they were sitting upright, in the third, they were bent forward, as if in prayer, and these people were standing, trying to claw the doors open until they collapsed. Lying, sitting, bent forward, standing, possibly kneeling; with each fire, he puts them in a new position.”