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“He’s my new fire investigator,” Terra said absently. “You know he’s been working with me on his days off. For about the last year and a half.”
“Yes, but he fought this fire.” She looked away from his level gaze, wishing she’d had a little warning about his more significant involvement in the investigation. She’d known their working together would happen eventually, but she wasn’t ready. “How can he investigate and work the scene as a firefighter?”
“It’s happened before. Besides, this is his last shift. When he reports to work on Monday, it will be for me.”
Kiley knew displeasure and sheer panic showed on her face.
“What’s going on, Kiley?” Terra looked slightly irritated.
“I…just didn’t expect him to also investigate.”
“Is he a suspect?” Collier asked tightly.
“No.” Curling her hands into fists at her sides, her gaze shot to Terra. “This isn’t a conflict of interest?”
“No.” The other woman glanced at Collier then back at Kiley.
“Can you handle it, Detective?” His smoke-roughened voice challenged her.
She wasn’t about to let him see how off balance she really felt. She flashed a smile at Terra. “Let’s go. I’ll try to keep up.”
“Whew, good. I’m going on maternity leave in two weeks. I want Collier to know everything I know about this scene.”
“Is he going to take over this case?” Had she just squeaked?
“Unless we clear it before I have this baby, and I don’t foresee that. So, you’ll have to partner up.”
Kiley gave a forced smile, avoiding Collier’s gaze.
“Let’s get started, then,” Terra said.
The three of them began a slow walk, sloshing through dark water, with Collier beside Terra and Kiley slightly behind. Her eyes narrowed on his broad shoulders. Collier McClain wasn’t just Presley’s newest fire investigator, and her partner for the time being. He was the one man she’d sworn to avoid like the Ebola virus.
Chapter 2
Collier had wanted to be first on the nozzle tonight, but nothing about this call had gone the way he’d wanted. Not what had happened to Lazano. And not seeing Kiley Russell.
Collier hadn’t allowed himself to think about her since that Christmas party at the FOP club. Then tonight, on the second day of the new year, she’d burst in front of him like a firecracker.
In the month since meeting her, he hadn’t forgotten the curve of her hip beneath his palm as they’d danced. Or the warm, spicy fragrance of fresh woman and body heat.
Kiley Russell wasn’t conventionally beautiful like Gwen, but he wasn’t the only man who couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her tangle of red hair hinted at a wildness that was banked in her eyes. Creamy skin and rosy cheeks gave her a fresh-faced appeal that invited people to like her even though Collier sensed that if she decided to seduce a man, those stunning blue-green eyes could knock him clear into next week.
What really had Collier’s internal alarm screaming was the memory of Detective Russell’s laugh. Low and smoky, the sound had grabbed at something deep inside, telling him that his attraction to her was more than physical. He’d managed to bury all that over the holidays, but seeing her now brought the memories bubbling to the surface. Memories he had no intention of giving free rein.
In the year and a half since he’d called off his engagement to Gwen, Collier hadn’t regretted his new no-strings policy with women. He didn’t like that Kiley Russell was the first woman to make him think about breaking it. Liked even less that his thoughts were on her instead of the crime scene in which they stood.
“Since we can’t take measurements of the body’s original position,” Terra said, “we’ll have to rely on the Rapid Intervention Team and any other eyewitness accounts to determine where Lazano fell.”
Kiley stepped up, pointing to a spot in front of the open doorway. “The RIT put Lazano here.”
“That’s right. And so did the attack crew who took over for me and Lazano.” Collier turned, his gaze skipping over the puddles of black water on Benson Street. “The shot came from behind. Probably from that warehouse across the street.”
Kiley made a note in her notebook.
Standing on the edge of the bright light thrown by the portable floodlamps, Collier walked to the bloodstain barely visible on the wet concrete and dictated the location into Terra’s handheld tape recorder.
“I’m surprised all the blood wasn’t washed away,” Kiley observed, following the other woman into the warehouse. “I guess it would be too much to hope we might get some prints off this door? I’m guessing the firefighters probably blasted them off with their hoses.”
“We’re trained to put out the fire, which means we can’t really worry about preserving evidence,” Collier said from behind her. “To put out a blaze, you’ve got to chop holes in the roof, tear down walls, kick out windows plus soak everything in thousands of gallons of water. Even so, we’re trained not to get carried away with our water streams. We douse the flames and make sure they don’t rekindle. And we typically use a wide spray pattern, like a fog. If that doesn’t work, we have to use a small spray, so a straight stream could’ve destroyed that evidence.”
“You’re both assuming there were prints to begin with,” Terra said as they paused shoulder to shoulder in a small huddle.
Kiley slid a look at Collier. “What about the heat? Would it compromise a fingerprint?”
“Prints can be tricky. Most people believe fire destroys all evidence, but that’s not true. It would take hot, hot temperatures to distort or destroy a print. From the condition of the wood pallets, I don’t think the fire burned long enough to get that hot. The door is barely discolored.” He pointed over his head to a steel beam with dark streaks. “None of the steel up there is melted, though it is discolored and marked. The melting point for steel is 2500 degrees.”
“So a twenty-minute fire wouldn’t normally be hot enough or long burning enough to melt the I-beams?”
“Not unless there were flammable liquids or explosives, something to help it along.”
“What accelerant do you think was used?”
“Maybe none. That’s something we need to find out.” He studied the steel beams supporting the apex of the roof. “It doesn’t appear the fire got hot enough or high enough back here to melt the steel.”
“Just some of the aluminum walls.” Terra pointed to some damaged sheeting.
Kiley scribbled in her notebook. “So what does that tell you?”
Terra looked at Collier expectantly, so he said, “That the fire temperature on the walls was less than 660 degrees and that whatever reached the ceiling probably burned less than a thousand.”
The detective nodded and made another note.
“First, we’ll try to confirm or eliminate arson,” Terra explained over her shoulder.
Collier added, “Part of that process will be checking the electrical wiring.”
Kiley resettled her helmet. “So, all we know at this point is that Dan Lazano was murdered.”
“Right,” Collier said. “It was definitely not suicide.” Suicide was one manner of death that had to be eliminated in the course of an investigation. Given he was an eye witness, Collier could do that with confidence. He still couldn’t believe Lazano was dead. And how close he had come to being a victim himself.
“I’m sure you’ve both already taken note that this is our second victim from Station Two.” Terra stopped a few feet away, her pretty features grim. “It’s the first time that’s happened.”
“Since the first two firefighters worked out of different stations,” Collier said, “the connection is not that the victims worked out of the same house. I’ll be interested to see if any of our previous interviews turn up on the list again.”
“Let’s get busy,” Terra interrupted, “and see what we can find.”
“Lead the way,” Kiley said.
To ward off the smoke headache already pulsing at the base of his skull, Collier downed several ibuprofen without water and passed a few to her. She took them and slid them into her pocket. He mentally shrugged. Maybe she didn’t get smoke headaches from tromping around fire scenes.
He flexed his hands inside the pair of stiff gloves Terra had loaned him. At Russell’s request, his well-used gloves, stained with Lazano’s blood, were now bagged as evidence outside with another cop. The three of them worked their way from the least amount of damage to the worst.
Terra snapped pictures from several angles and Collier dictated information about their position and observations into her recorder. In his other hand, he carried a shovel and her tackle box. They stopped frequently, shoveling ashes and debris, searching for evidence.
Over the past eighteen months, he’d built his own tool kit, which included every kind of tool from pliers and tape measures to hacksaws and hammers. For evidence gathering, he carried sterile paint cans, paper and plastic bags and a couple of small jars for liquids. Since he’d been on his last firefighting shift tonight and his new job wasn’t supposed to officially begin until Monday, he was without his kit.
Lazano’s murder had moved up Collier’s start date…and teamed him with a woman he would rather avoid. As a fire investigator, he had the authority to interview and interrogate but not to arrest or serve warrants like Russell did. Because of the policy between the Presley Fire Department and Police Department, he would have to work with Detective Russell until one of them proved the death was an accident or murder. They already knew Lazano’s death hadn’t been a suicide and didn’t believe there was anything accidental about it, so it appeared he would be working with the redhead until they closed these murder cases. Just dandy.
The physical reaction he’d had to Russell during that dance had been warning enough, but combined with the insistent curiosity he felt about her, he had backed way off. And he intended to stay that way.
“I have to hand it to y’all,” Kiley said from behind him. “The amount of patience this takes is incredible.”
Collier shared a look with Terra. She’d had to remind him more than once that investigations took time and patience. He’d had to learn to curb his firefighter’s attack mentality and to carefully, thoroughly, follow the crime trail one step at a time.
He’d wanted to work fire investigations for more than two years, which was why he had readily agreed to apprentice with Terra for no pay. Besides putting him in a good position to nab the promotion to fire investigator when another spot with her office opened up, he’d also taken on the additional and demanding hours as a way to forget about Gwen. And he had.
Another fire investigator hadn’t been approved and budgeted until a few months ago. He’d taken the test, passed his independent assessment and been interviewed by Terra along with another candidate. She had offered the job to him, and the other man had found a job shortly thereafter with Oklahoma City’s fire marshal.
Kiley trailed him through the center of the warehouse, wet grime sucking at her boots. “I remember Terra saying that arsonists typically set fires either for revenge, attention or to hide evidence of another crime. In this case it looks like the fires are being set as bait to attract the firefighters to the scene and kill them.”
Collier turned to her. “I agree.”
“I guess we should consider insurance fraud. If only to show we eliminated that motive.”
“Warehouses are always prime marks for fire insurance fraud,” he admitted.
“It’s possible that one person set the fire for insurance money and that another person murdered Lazano,” Terra offered, rubbing at her lower back again. “But this is too much like the other murders. I think our arsonist and sniper are the same person. And I think we’re dealing with an emotional fire setter as opposed to a pathological one.”
“What’s the difference?” Kiley asked.
“An emotional fire setter strikes out of revenge or hate,” Terra said. “A pathological torch gets off just by setting fires.”
Kiley glanced around the warehouse. “Since we’re dealing with a serial killer who’s using the blaze to bait firefighters, we have an emotional fire setter.”
“It appears that way.” Collier dragged a hand down his face. “So while arson definitely plays a role, we should be looking for someone who has more motive to kill than burn.”
“I think you’re right.” His boss looked as grim as he felt.
Kiley adjusted the too-large helmet on her head. “I’ll check on the warehouse’s insurance policy, anyway, just to cover our bases.”
As they worked their way to the worst burn area, the fire’s origin, Collier documented every step with photos and sketches.
On the east side of the interior, Terra halted in front of him and sniffed the air. “I don’t smell any accelerant. No gasoline, no kerosene, nothing.”
Collier couldn’t smell any, either. Scenting accelerants was a natural ability Terra had that he didn’t, but she had said that didn’t matter. What would make him a good fire investigator wasn’t what he could smell, but what he observed.
Scanning the coffee pallet and metal wall directly in front of him for the “low point” or point of origin, his gaze settled on a blackened circle on the concrete.
Both women walked up beside him. Collier kept his focus on the spot in front of him, concentrating on determining if this fire was arson. Why would a fire start here? There was no heat source, so he could eliminate that the blaze had been accidental. He pointed to a small mound of charred material in the middle of the blackened circle. “This pile of rags is the point of origin. Looks like it may be towels.”
“Let’s take a look at burn patterns on the pallets and coffee bags that burned, the leftover debris here and on the floor, ground, ceiling,” Terra said.
After carefully bagging a fist-size amount of the remaining cloth, he used a small sterile paint can to hold a sample of the charred wooden pallet. Terra took photos of the places where the samples had come from, while Collier indicated the same on the drawing of the fire-sketch layout he’d started for the warehouse.
To be thorough, he also sealed a handful of coffee beans, but he didn’t expect to find that they had absorbed any accelerant. He studied the charred pallet and a ten-inch stretch of black going up the metal wall beside it. He ran a quick test with the portable “sniffer,” a small boxlike instrument that detected carbons like those usually left behind in gasoline or flammable liquids.
Glancing up at Terra, he was aware of Kiley in his peripheral vision. “The readout is negative for any kind of gas or flammable liquids. Right now it looks like the fire started with a match and a bundle of towels.”
“I don’t think the arsonist tried to hide it, either,” his new boss said. “Probably lit this bunch of cloth then waited for the fire alarm to trip.”
“They had probably already scoped out their position across the street.” Kiley glanced toward the front of the building. “And the fire was set close enough to the door for a quick exit.”
“Another sign of arson.” Collier’s stomach tightened at the cold calculation indicated by the scenario they were starting to piece together. Calculation that could’ve killed him this time.
Between that and the redhead behind him, his nerves were stretched taut. He shut the tackle box and rose. “From the obvious placement of the towels, I don’t think the arsonist cares if we figure out how the fire started. The hardest blazes to determine are the ones with a single match and a little thought.”
“All the fires have basically been set in the same way and a rifle used in all four of them.” Terra braced a hand at the small of her back.
“The first fire at the high school gym and this one tonight were started before the shootings,” Kiley observed. “But the fires at the motel and in the victim’s garage were set after the victims were killed. Just to get the firefighters to respond?”
“I’d say yes.”
“Lisa Embry and now Lazano give us two vics from the same station. Miller was with Station Three and Huffman with Four.”
“Going through the first three victims’ shifts at their respective station houses gave us the calls they had in common.” Collier put a new roll of film into his camera. “We’ll check to see if Lazano’s work schedule coincides with theirs.”
“All the murders have occurred within the first week of the month so we should cross-reference those dates with the rescue call dates.” Kiley flipped a page in her notebook. “We still haven’t found anything in the first victim’s background to suggest someone would want to kill him. As for the second victim, we haven’t found the blond woman witnesses say Rex Huffman was last seen with at that motel.”
“What about Lisa Embry’s ex?” The third victim and her husband had gone through a nasty divorce and custody battle. He had ended up with the house and joint custody of the kids.
Kiley’s jaw firmed. “We should talk to him again, ask him where he was tonight.”
Terra picked up the thread. “Kiley and I will continue to work our way down the list of people who have died in fires within the last six months to a year. Or fatalities that occurred when any of these murdered firefighters were on the scene. The killer could be someone who blames the firefighters for the death of a loved one.”
“In the meantime, these guys are a bull’s-eye every time they respond to a call.” Collier couldn’t keep the rage out of his voice. “Just like Russian roulette.”
And he could’ve been one of the victims tonight. The cold knot coiling in his gut was more than nerves. It was a sobering sense of mortality that he hadn’t felt in a lot of years.
“We’ll find this murdering scumbag, Collier,” Terra reassured.
Kiley nodded, watching him with a fierce determination in her eyes and an understanding that made him pause. She pulled her gaze away to stare at the remains of the pallet, wrinkling her nose. “I like coffee, but not that roasted.”
Her remark served to ease the heaviness that had settled over them. Collier smiled and noticed Terra did, too.
“So, how does it work?” Kiley asked. “The towels catch fire, it spreads to a pallet then the coffee bags?”
“Yes,” he answered.
