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Arsonists Anonymous

Page 5

by Nora Snowdon


  “Not at all. I’m glad you’re eager.” He glanced at his watch. “You want to break for lunch?”

  “Already?”

  “It’s three. I’m not sure when you normally eat lunch, but I’m starving.”

  “Oh.” Lu checked her watch in disbelief. This was way more interesting than sitting around the fire hall. “Sure.”

  “Mexican okay?” He seemed to move even faster when motivated by food. He’d locked up the building before she’d even mentally changed gears, shifting away from the last bit of information he’d divulged. Keeping up with Byron both physically and mentally was challenging. Should she have taken notes? She’d jot them down tonight while they were still fresh in her mind.

  “Great.”

  “Are you feeling a little brain-overloaded?” He smiled sympathetically as they walked to his car.

  “No … I mean, it all makes sense.” She chuckled. “It’s just that fire fighters don’t think about any of these things when we’re fighting a fire. We look at where it’s coming from and search for the safest, quickest way to kill it.”

  “I’ve heard you’re pretty good at assessing fires.”

  Lu couldn’t see his face as he reached by her to open the car door for her, but she felt a nervous clench in her stomach. “Ace tends to exaggerate.”

  “Hmm.” Byron closed the car door behind her and walked to the driver’s side. She hoped he’d drop the subject.

  “How’d you become an arson inspector?” she asked, when he’d settled into his seat.

  He checked before pulling onto the street. “Many years of training, Grasshopper.”

  “Huh?”

  “Sorry, I’m showing my age. It’s from Kung Fu, an old TV show I watched as a kid. The master used to call his pupil Grasshopper.”

  “Oh.” So how old was he? He didn’t look older than Reynolds, maybe late thirties or forty-five, tops. “Do they have classes in arsonist psychology?”

  “I studied criminology, psychology, sociology, and about ten other ologies. Then there was the physics, chemistry, Deuteronomy, astronomy, hydrocepholomony—”

  “Now you’re just making things up.”

  “Yeah. I took a few extra classes before I joined the police department, and then learned more at conferences and discussing cases with colleagues.” He glanced over at her. “Am I luring you over to the law-enforcement side of fires?”

  “The dark side? They warned me that you might try to corrupt me, but so soon?” Lu stiffened in surprise as he popped the car sideways into a parking spot.

  “Is that what your team calls it? My coworkers describe my crossing fields as ‘seeing the light.’“

  “Poor disillusioned folk,” Lu shot back. Although today was more interesting than hanging out at the fire hall, saving people from fires seemed much nicer than arresting them.

  “This is one of my favorite cheap restaurants.” Byron pointed to the large awning with a dancing coyote next to a cactus. “Nothing says tasty food like a cartoon character.”

  “As long as they don’t serve coyote burgers.” Lu walked through the door he held for her. The restaurant was dimly lit with low beams and dark wood décor. She stopped just inside the door to let her eyes adjust. Byron had to pull himself up short. He braced his hand on her shoulder to keep from bumping into her. “Sorry,” Lu said, “I didn’t mean to—”

  “No, it is dark.” Byron nodded at the bartender and directed Lu to a table. “This should be good. We don’t want to sit too close to the speakers. They turn up the mariachi music after 3:30 for early happy-hour.”

  Lu felt self-conscious as Byron pulled out her chair for her, but he didn’t seem to notice. It was probably an instinctive action rather than sexist. The waiter filled their water glasses and took their orders. Lu guzzled her water. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was.

  “So when we’re checking the—”

  “No shop talk,” he interrupted with a smile. “This is a chance to rest our brains.”

  “Hmm … Nice weather. And what about those Mariners?” Lu smiled blandly at him.

  “Do you follow baseball?”

  “Not particularly. You?”

  “Used to. Gave it up for Lent.” Byron nodded thanks at the waiter as he plunked down the tortilla chips and salsa.

  Conversation stalled while they munched on the chips. Not talking about work made the lunch feel more like a date. And with how confident and sexy he looked sitting across from her, she almost wished it was. God, what is wrong with me? I just made that mistake with Reynolds and now here I am fantasizing about my new boss. She glanced around the restaurant to distract her wayward mind.

  “Okay,” Byron had a sheepish smile. “I said no shop talk but I’m curious about something Ace mentioned to me. How did you know where that Carroll Street fire was a few weeks ago? He said Dispatch had been several blocks off with the address.”

  “Um, I don’t know.” Lu shrugged. “I must’ve seen smoke, or heard something when we were driving.”

  “No one else did, and it was a contained fire.” Despite the casual expression on his face, there was an intensity behind his statement that unnerved her.

  “I can’t explain it. Marcus was driving to the call and it felt like we’d passed it so I yelled up to him to turn onto Carroll Street. He kept following the dispatchers’ route, but then it turned out the civilian calling in the fire gave the wrong address. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “But you were right.”

  “I know, but I didn’t have any proof. We’re supposed to follow directions, not hunches.”

  “You seem to have quite good hunches.” He chuckled. “I bet that bugs the shit out of Josh. If it ain’t typed up in his beloved manuals …”

  Lu felt disloyal to Reynolds, but couldn’t help smiling at Byron’s assessment.

  “What’s Ace’s nickname for you?”

  “The Nose.” Lu grimaced. “Said it was after some Steve Martin movie where he plays a fire captain and the fire truck follows him down the street as he sniffs out fires.”

  “I think that movie was Roxanne,” Byron supplied helpfully. “But your nose is much cuter.”

  Lu jammed some more chips in her mouth. It was fun working with Byron, but he made her nervous when he got personal. Maybe because he always seemed to know more than he was letting on. And God, help her if he somehow guessed her fire-starting problem.

  “I’m only going to keep you until about five-thirty. We’ll finish the perimeter check, the windows, doors, and call it a day. I’ll go back to my office to write it up so we’ll keep Josh happy.”

  Lu looked up, startled.

  “I know. He probably warned you not to do any paperwork for me.”

  The waiter placed two large plates in front of them and Lu took the opportunity to glance at Byron’s expression. He was much more gregarious than Reynolds, but in his way, just as inscrutable. She pitied the woman who had gotten caught between those two men, and God help her if she got involved with either of them for real.

  CHAPTER 6

  “Did someone else work with Byron while I was gone?” Lu asked Ace as they gathered for the morning report. She’d been off for her four days and no one had mentioned whether she was back at the hall or still assigned to cop detail. Maybe Byron had replaced her permanently. She felt a stab of jealousy, but surely that was just because it was more interesting doing something rather than sitting around waiting for calls.

  “Not while I was on shift. But he may be borrowing from other halls, too.” Ace eyed her coffee. “That fresh?” At her nod, he wandered off to the kitchen.

  “Okay, everyone listen up.” Reynolds waited for silence and Lu surreptitiously studied him. Somehow his perfect appearance—did he use hair gel?—and pristine attire made him seem fake next to the casual warmth of Byron. “We’re doing ladder drills at ten-thirty.” He ignored the quiet groans. “That last call was pathetic. We’ll do it until you get the timing and precision right ever
y time. You should be able to do this in your sleep, people.”

  Lu glanced at Ace, who’d returned with his coffee. He rolled his eyes and mouthed, “Bill.” A couple of other guys were glaring at Bill. She’d grill Ace later in private.

  “We’ll be short-handed today for the first two hours until the temp gets here. Sorry Dawson, you’re still on blue shirt duty this week.” Reynolds smiled wryly. “I know how much you hate to miss drills.”

  “Goldarnit!” She shook her head sadly. The only thing more annoying than the repetitious ladder dance was practicing with the hose. Reynolds always made it feel like a high school detention. Still, it was good he cracked the whip. The last thing you wanted on a call was someone misgauging the ladder height and wasting precious time repositioning the damn thing.

  “Why doesn’t Byron meet you at the cop shop?” Ace whispered. “He afraid to let you know where his office is?”

  “Why?” Lu asked. “Did you tell him I was a stalker?”

  “Not me.”

  Marcus was brief as he gave his report for the previous night. A senior with heart pains, but the paramedics had gotten there faster. Presumably the medics had been hanging at the Chinese restaurant down the street. Marcus ended with the usual complaint about something unidentifiable in the fridge.

  “What does Byron have ya doing?” Ace asked as he followed Lu to her locker. “You get to interview people?”

  “We play ‘Good cop, bad fireman.’“ Lu laughed. “Nah, we’re just sifting through ashes, looking at the wiring, trying to figure out at which points the fire was hottest.”

  “Sounds dull. You have to wear face masks?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “No thanks.” Ace looked bored. “You should come back. The guy from Bellevue’s some college boy. Doesn’t listen to anyone.”

  “Hmm. I don’t know what we’ll be doing after we’re done in the Baker house. We’ll see,” Lu answered noncommittally. She wasn’t looking forward to ending her work with Byron, but obviously he couldn’t keep her much longer. Hopefully they’d learn something before she got cut. Otherwise it’d be like reading a mystery and losing the book just before you found out whodunit. And it was nice working with someone who valued her input. If only she didn’t have to worry about him figuring out her secret, it would be perfect.

  “Hey, did I tell ya? Laurel Ann asked me to dinner.” Ace grinned.

  “No. That’s great.”

  “I dunno. What if she’s a lousy cook?” His grin faded and he scratched his head.

  “Then you’ll really impress her with your beef barley soup. Either way you win.” Lu locked her locker. “Besides, you both work; if her cooking’s terrible you can just eat out all the time. Then there’s no fighting over who does the dishes.”

  “You’re right.” Ace’s face brightened and he looked back at the hallway. “I think your boss just arrived.”

  Lu put her wallet in her pocket and walked out to meet Byron. “Hey there, I thought maybe you’d replaced me.”

  “Impossible.” His smile was wide and genuine. “Had some paperwork to do this morning. You ready?”

  “Yup.” Lu tried to mute the huge smile threatening to overtake her face. Despite her worries about him discovering her propensity for fires, she was looking forward to spending more time with him. “Where we going?”

  “We have one more visit to Baker Street, and then back to my office.” He held the door open for her and she stepped through. Eventually she’d get to a door first and see how he reacted to her holding the door for him. Then again with his speedy stride …

  “You haven’t finished at the site?”

  “Without you? No way. I pined away in my office waiting for our next meeting.”

  Lu slid into his car hoping he wouldn’t notice her blushing. She was happy he hadn’t been working with other fire fighters. She wondered if she’d enjoy this job as much if she wasn’t working with Byron.

  “Today’s going to be a little different. We’re going to retrace your steps the night of the fire.”

  “Oh. Um, okay.”

  “It’ll be interesting.” He glanced at her. “It might even help with your nightmares.”

  “How did—?” Lu shook her head. “Those counselors aren’t supposed to—”

  “They didn’t. But from what I know of you, you’d have to be internalizing that death. And you can’t tell anyone because you don’t want to act like the emotional female.”

  “Oh right. Like because I’m a woman—”

  “No. Because you’re human. And you’re in a male-dominated field where emotions are considered a liability. It’s not an insult, Lu.”

  “Ah, forget it.” Am I that transparent? Maybe Reynolds had sensed my vulnerability, too. Had that kiss been less spontaneous on his part? She shook her head and stared out the window. Jeez, don’t go there.

  They rode in silence along the now-familiar route until Byron parked beside the metal fence.

  “Okay, grab your helmet and let’s get started.” Byron popped the trunk and grabbed his clipboard, helmet, and a small black electronic device that he slipped into his pocket. “We’ll start from where the fire truck pulled up.” He unlocked the gate and led her to the front of the building. “Who’s where?”

  “Reynolds tells Marcus and Ace to get out the 2.5 hose and stand by. Reynolds goes that way for the three-sixty. I’m flushing the hydrant. Reynolds radios that there’s a woman trapped inside around back, so Red and I—”

  “Okay. Let’s fit the action to words, but in slow motion,” Byron prompted.

  “Red and I run to the back.” She started walking.

  “Did you notice anything on this side of the building? Smoke coming from these windows?”

  “No.” Lu thought a moment. “I did notice there was no damage on this side of the house. You couldn’t even tell it was on fire from here.”

  “Where was Josh when you turned this corner?”

  “He was at this door.” She pointed to the re-boarded door. “There were slats across the door that Reynolds was trying to pull away.”

  “Were the boards new or old?”

  “New. Oh, I hadn’t thought about that.” She looked at the big sheet of plywood now covering the doorway.

  Byron pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket and jimmied the edge of the board. “Give me a sec.”

  The board creaked and then separated from the doorway with a sharp crack. The doorframe still showed the slashes from Red’s forced entry, but was overlaid with burn marks and soot. Byron looked over at Lu expectantly. “What next?”

  “Red yells out when he gets through this door and I pull on my mask and follow him inside.”

  As she started to go into the hallway, Byron’s arm shot out and held her back.

  “What did you hear?”

  “The woman screaming and—”

  “Just one woman?”

  “Yes.” She looked at him in alarm. “God, they didn’t find more bodies, did they?”

  “No. Could you understand what she was saying?”

  “I thought she was yelling ‘Help,’ but then it seemed to be something else. There was a low rumbling noise, so I could only hear her when her voice was very high pitched.”

  “Was that rumbling from the fire? Or something else, maybe a motor, or fan?”

  “It couldn’t have been anything like that.” She shook her head. “The electricity was out. The fire had blown the street lights.”

  “What did the rumbling sound like?”

  Lu struggled to remember. “It sounded like … hmm, kinda like a massive coffee grinder.” She looked at him in surprise. “But that was underneath the fire sound. I could hear the crackling of the wood, and that sort of vacuum noise, like the fire is sucking noise out of an area, you know?”

  He nodded.

  “But what the hell was the grinding sound?” Lu frowned, trying to think of possibilities. Maybe if she identified the sound, it would help them nail the murderou
s bastards.

  He ignored her question. “What did you see in this hallway?”

  “There was a lot of smoke—” Lu stopped herself. “Bits of ashes, dust. There were a couple of boxes by that wall.”

  “Keep going.” He walked ahead of her. “When you turned this corner …?”

  “The screaming was coming from that direction.” Lu pointed to the right fighting to keep her voice unemotional. “Then I turned back this way ’cause there was a loud crash. A beam up there,” she pointed to the gaping hole in the ceiling, “was breaking. There was shelving along there with the metal framework above—”

  “Hydroponics equipment?”

  “I guess so. Um … A stack of palettes against that wall. They were like tinder. And the fire had run up those supports. But I wasn’t really paying attention. I was more worried about the woman.” She stared at the charred-out remains of the first office. “Red hacked through that door, then a burst of flame—”

  “According to Red, you yanked him out of the way, seconds before the door exploded.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Why?”

  “It felt wrong.” Lu wondered how to explain. A few of the other fire fighters had gotten so they just trusted some of her instincts, but it wasn’t something she could articulate. And she was worried enough about Byron guessing her fire-starting problem. Luckily Reynolds seemed too conservative and pragmatic to consider the possibility of psychic abilities existing, but Byron … “Like there was a charged build-up behind the door. I dunno.”

  “Report said Red had to stop you from going further into the building?” Byron sounded perplexed.

  “The woman—” Lu looked at where the next door had been. It was difficult to tell where the fire had destroyed the building and how much had been the crews working the overhaul. People always seemed to think the fire fighters were done after the fire was out, but they still had to open the walls and pull down ceilings just to make sure the flames were completely out with no “hot spots” remaining.

  She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Byron handing her a handkerchief. After a moment of incomprehension, she took it and wiped the tears from her face. She hadn’t even realized she was crying. Strangely enough, it didn’t bother her much to have Byron see her tears; she didn’t feel he would use that against her. Or use them as an excuse to kiss her. Wow, why hadn’t she considered that with Reynolds before? She’d been upset about the woman’s death, but Reynolds hadn’t seemed to be. Or was she rethinking the kiss to make herself less at fault?

 

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