Embers of Murder (Jill Quint, MD, Forensic Pathologist Series Book 12)

by Alec Peche

  EMBERS OF MURDER

  ALEC PECHE

  GBSW Publishing

  Copyright © 2021 by ALEC PECHE

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Acknowledgments

  As a California resident, I watch the state catch on fire each summer and fall. I’m surprised when I hear stories about arson caused fires. I think the endless acres of dry brush offers unlimited opportunities for arsonists to be thrilled with the power of fire. I knew Jill Quint had to get involved with an arson case.

  Many thanks to my first readers and especially GM Meyer and Ellen Falk. You turn my imagination into readable English with each story. Thank you for your brilliant editing.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Also by ALEC PECHE

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Amanda Moore parked her truck on a wide shoulder of the road that meandered through the low hills leading to Sequoia National Forest. Everywhere she looked, it was a dream landscape for her. She was an arsonist, and she viewed the endless dry brush around her, fantasizing about what the hillside would look like ablaze. She heard the crackling sounds of trees snapping. She felt the heat of the fire, and that was saying something as the warm August air was shaping up to be a one-hundred-degree day. The pull of the fire was so strong, she held her hands out to warm them in the flames. Then she blinked and pulled herself back to the present.

  She had plans for this hillside. In a few days, she would meet her latest target here for a hike and a picnic. It was hard to hold off the urge to torch the hillside. She heard the whispers of the flames calling her. She had to pause and clear that vision from her mind. When she returned home, she would enjoy lighting her many candles so she could watch the power of fire dancing. First, though, she had to find the hiking trail.

  Amanda walked a quarter mile up the road and found the trail she had read about. She followed the trail as it slowly crept uphill. The hiker who mentioned this trail said about a half mile into the trail, it reached a plateau with a nice view of the surrounding area. They also said that the trail was deserted. They hiked it for solitude as they never met another hiker on the trail. This was perfect for her needs. She listened and thought she heard someone coming; she ducked behind a tree. She listened harder and then decided that it was just the wind. When she came back here with her target and started a brushfire, she would take a brief moment to chuckle with her friend the wind and enjoy the flames before she made her escape from the scene of the crime.

  She walked the area a little more, looking for an alternative path back to her truck. This was her third fire this year. So far, she had managed to make them look like natural events. She studied the weather for red flag fire warning days. In any given year, the cause of about a third of state brushfires was labeled undetermined, and Amanda wanted to keep her fires in that category. The state of California arrested about seventy arsonists a year. Despite her history of setting over fifty fires, she hadn't been caught.

  This time Amanda was trying something new. She had been on various dating sites looking for her ideal man. So far, she hadn't found him. Indeed, she found a lot of duds. Guys with whom a second date was out of the question in her mind. She decided some men just needed to be taken out of the dating pool. She would help her fellow females looking for mates by permanently eliminating some of the dating pool dregs.

  Her next brushfire was going to include one of those dregs. There would be a red flag warning in three days according to the weather service, and she set up a second date with a man she hadn't liked on the first date. Everything in his profile was a stretch of the truth. He was three inches shorter, ten years older, and forty pounds heavier than his profile. And those were the nice things she could say about him. His name was Derek Henry, and the hike to the plateau would be his last. She hoped that he could make it as far as she needed him to walk, given his age and weight. She promised a beautiful view and a great picnic lunch, and he would get to hit a home run afterward. That last promise locked him in.

  Little did Derek know that he would be sound asleep before he could ever step up to bat. Amanda had shopped for sleeping pills from several doctors. She studied the dosage she needed to kill him as the brush caught fire around him. If she was successful in killing Derek, she planned to move on to helium gas. She was worried that if the authorities autopsied him, they would find the sleeping pills in his stomach. The fire experts would spend some time figuring out if Derek died by suicide, homicide, or merely an accident. She paused to review the murder scene in her head, trying to think of additional evidence she could leave that would make it look like an accidental death. She would have to leave a review of this hiking area in the future saying it was burned in a fire. It would take a couple of years, and then the brush would grow back.

  The next man she planned to meet for a hike would be offered the opportunity for a little fun with inhaling helium. The high-pitched voice of helium would be entertainment. She would be sure to have her next victim inhale enough pure helium to render himself unconscious. Then she might blow some nitrogen gas over his face just to make sure he would die. Then, she'd start another fire, but this time there wouldn't be evidence of the sleeping drugs in his belly. She'd bet the coroner would think he died of natural causes. Was being a jerk a natural cause of death?

  She laughed to herself as she finished exploring the area. Amanda checked her watch as she had to work that day if she wanted to pay the bills. She did freelance coding and abstracting of medical charts. She could work from the trailer she towed behind her truck and name her hours each day as long as she finished her work sometime within the twenty-four-hour period. Her trailer had a satellite dish, so she could always access the internet for her work. The trailer allowed her to move around the state at will. She had an hour drive back to her campsite and would spend the remainder of the day doing the work at her computer. It wasn't exciting, but that was what fire was for it was her exciting friend.

  For her first date with Derek, she purposely arranged a meeting where alcohol was served to figure out his drinking habits and favorite libations. She planned to serve him his drink of choice during her picnic. Her sleeping pills would be crushed into his beverage, which had been a mojito on their first date. She spent the past few days experimenting with the mojito. She wanted to make sure that the pills' bitter taste was hidden by the mint, sugar, and lime juice. She tasted the concoction then spit it out as she didn't want to kill herself with the dose meant for him. She refined her recipe an
d found the perfect cooler backpack that would carry her cocktail, the mint, and ice cubes in separate containers that she would mix with a flourish to be served to Derek.

  All that was left for her to do was wait a few days for their meeting. When she decided to go forth with this plan for removing the dregs from the dating pool, she debated whether to meet Derek at the start of the hiking site or for them to drive together into the hills. She decided on the first option, as the evidence of an empty car would lend credence to the thought that his death was an accident or suicide.

  If he didn't show at the appointed time, she would walk away unfulfilled with a fire. She wouldn’t start a brushfire in his absence as she might save this location for her next target. She would dump her sleeping pill cocktail and plan her next fire, but she really hoped that Derek would show up. She was itching to start a fire. Lighting many of her candles at home was an unsatisfactory experience in place of a brushfire and the fulfillment she expected to feel when he was removed from the dating pool.

  Amanda also researched what would happen to Derek's body as the brushfire ignited around him. If the sleeping pills didn't kill him, he would die from smoke inhalation. His clothing might catch on fire, but his body wouldn’t. It wasn’t hot enough at the start of a fire to do more than burn his clothing. His face would still be identifiable, and his fingerprints would be available to authorities for comparison. After he fell asleep, she would check his pockets for a phone and wallet. She would make sure the phone was turned off, and there were no pictures or texts of hers saved on it. She would remove any cash but leave everything else intact in his wallet. There was no sense in wasting any cash he might have—far better for her to spend it.

  A couple of days later, Amanda found herself pulling onto the highway shoulder that she had identified days ago. She was early as she wanted to make sure she had room to leave the easement without moving Derek's car. She grabbed her backpack and placed it at her feet as she leaned against the truck awaiting his arrival. Her excitement was palpable, and Derek would probably mistake it as enthusiasm for him. An hour from now, she would be driving through these hills to another road that would take her back to her home. She didn't want to take the road that firetrucks would be using to arrive at the scene as she would look like she was fleeing the fire, which of course she was.

  Soon she could hear the car's approach though it wasn't in view yet as this was a winding road. She continued leaning casually against her truck, waiting to see if Derek the dreg was behind the wheel. She verified it was him and gave a small wave, and watched him park behind her vehicle.

  He got out of the car and said, "This sure is in the middle of nowhere. Are you sure you want to hike? We could head back to my house and grab a beer."

  Amanda thought, “Hell no, I've got a plan for you a big, beautiful bonfire.” Instead, she said, "Hey, it's pretty here; wait until you see the views. It's only a half mile, and then I've got stuff for our picnic, including the ingredients for a mojito. Don't make me waste the effort. I've also got a soft blanket for other things later, but let's start the walk, and then we'll drink mojitos to slake our thirst."

  Derek nodded and then seemed to look around for a path to start the hike.

  "Follow me. The path is just a little bit up this road," she said, gesturing where the trailhead was located.

  Though she didn't like Derek, she gave some thought as to what they could chat about on the way to the plateau. As he loved himself, she asked him questions about his favorite this and that. It seemed to keep his mind off the fact that he was breathing heavily and sweating the more they hiked. He paused at one point, seeming to ask himself if a promise of sex was worth the effort of the hike. So she gave her best come hither look and said, "We have about another five minutes of walking, and then I'll have a refreshing mojito in your hand. I even have ice cubes in my pack. I'd hate to drink alone if you decide that it's too far to walk."

  That seemed to be enough motivation to keep him moving as she heard steps behind her. It was a little more than five minutes at the pace they were walking, but when she saw him flagging again, she pulled a blanket out of her pack, saying, "Isn’t this a nice soft blanket? We won’t have to lay on the hard ground.”

  Again, she heard his steps pick up behind her. She picked up her pace so she would have a few extra moments alone. She wanted time to spread the blanket and pull the contents out of her pack so she could get him drinking fast. Unfortunately, her concoction didn’t work immediately. Still, she had used a rum with a greater than seventy-five percent alcohol by volume, hoping to accelerate his disorientation. She wanted him to relax on the blanket. She didn’t want to immediately have to refuse his sexual overtures.

  She quickly mixed the cocktail and held it out to him. “Here’s your mojito. It’s going to taste wonderful and refreshing after that walk.”

  He was panting as he accepted the glass she held out to him. Derek sure was out of shape and yet he saw himself as a wildly attractive man. Go figure! She poured a second drink from another container for herself. It looked like a mojito, but there were no sedatives or rum in her version. She toasted her glass to his and was happy to see him taking large swallows of the drink.

  “I hated that walk. We aren’t doing this again for a date.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. I love it here. The air is fresh, and the scenery is beautiful. What would you rather be doing?”

  Keep him talking, so the alcohol and drugs have time to work.

  “We could have just met at the Three Rivers Tavern. It’s not as far a drive, and you don’t have to walk for fifteen minutes.”

  “But doesn’t the mojito taste better after you generated so much thirst on that walk?”

  “Babe, this is a good tasting mojito. You must have used the good rum as I can already feel the buzz of this drink.”

  Amanda felt like doing a little dance. Something—either the drugs or the alcohol—was making its way to his brain. If this kept up, she wouldn’t have to fend off a single amorous pass. He was stretched out on the blanket while she sat on a rock within reach to top off his drink.

  “Have you finished your drink? I can refill you.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. What do you have to eat?”

  “I brought cookies, chips, and sandwiches. Which would you like to start with?”

  “I’m feeling tired after that long walk. Why don’t you give me a cookie as that doesn’t take much effort to eat.”

  Great! Derek was starting to feel sleepy from the drink. That was the whole purpose of the drink and its unique ingredients. Before she fetched a cookie, she topped off his drink. Then she dug through her backpack to find the cookies. She had laced the chocolate chip cookies with marijuana so he would have quite a cocktail in his system. She needed him awake enough to finish the second glass just to ensure he had enough drugs on board to sleep through any fire that caught his clothing. Besides, she wanted to search him, and she didn’t want him to wake up during her search.

  She kept up her conversation and watched his eyelids get heavier.

  “I’m sorry, Babe, but I need a nap,” Derek said, just before he passed out.

  Amanda made a grab for the drink before it tipped all over the blanket. She took a look at the contents, happy to see that most of the second glass was gone. Hurray, now all she needed to do was wait and hope she didn’t have the bad luck of the occasional hiker appearing in this area. If that happened, she would have to assure the person that Derek was asleep because he worked a long shift, not because he was dead.

  Amanda waited another ten minutes, then tried to shake Derek awake after she put gloves on. He barely moved his hand. So she began searching his pockets. She pulled his wallet out and found fifty dollars for her effort. She replaced the wallet in the back pocket. Next, she pulled out a cell phone from the side pocket of his cargo shorts. He didn’t have a lock on his phone, so she went to his contacts and erased her name and the text messages they had exchanged. She debate
d erasing his entire phone, but that would be suspicious. She checked his pulse, and it was slow, and she could barely see his chest rising. He was on his way out. Perhaps another five minutes, and his heart would stop. She grabbed his car keys and started back to where the cars were parked, happy to see there were no hikers and no one else had parked in the little easement. She searched his car to be sure that there was no evidence connecting her, and she found none.

  She made her way back to where he was lying on the blanket. He looked very pale, unmoving, and dead. She rolled him off the blanket, which she would destroy once she returned to civilization. She put an old cigarette butt close to his fingers, then sprinkled the ground around him with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. Unlike gasoline, isopropyl alcohol would be harder to detect by investigators. She then did another check to make sure there were no hikers in the area, and she lit a match. The dry brush caught on fire, and she took off at a run for her truck. Ten minutes later, she could see smoke drifting toward the sky from the blaze even though she was some distance away. She’d been successful in leaving the area before the fire trucks arrived. She hadn’t passed a single person or car on her return out of the hills. Now, she would wait and watch the news. It would be on television soon, and she was interested in hearing from fire experts on the cause of the fire.

  Chapter 2