So the good doctor was on site but not working it. Could his mind have been the one she’d entered?
“If you want to ask questions,” the paramedic continued, “I suggest you talk to the tough guy over there. The only name he would give me was Maverick. His girlfriend is trapped in the kitchen. She was sentenced to community service here for shopping with the five-finger discount. Go easy on him, will you? He blames himself for not getting her out.”
She nodded. “Thanks, I will.” Dying was a steep price to pay for such a minor crime, and if she was still inside, the poor thing had to be dead by now. The black smoke was thicker than ever.
Alexis walked over to the boys, oxygen masks covering their mouths and noses. Someone had given them blankets. Judging by the assortment of colors and styles, it was whoever lived across the street.
The young men were covered in soot. They’d put themselves at risk to try and save the others. Bravery wasn’t determined by a bank account and a fancy home. The image of a fire eighteen years ago flared in her mind, a blaze that had claimed innocent lives and had left its mark on her. She knew how guilty and powerless they felt. She’d felt the same way. It didn’t matter how many they’d saved, it was the ones they’d left behind who weighed heavy on their hearts. Being able to help catch whoever had done this would go a long way towards restoring their self-esteem.
“Hi, I’m Alexis. I was wondering if you guys would mind answering a few questions for me. I’m not the police, but I’m working with them to catch the person who did this. I’m a fire and arson investigator, and while most of my work will be done once the fire is out, you guys can help me by telling me exactly what you saw.”
One of the boys, the leader perhaps, removed his oxygen mask. She would make sure he put it back on as soon as he could.
“Sure, whatever we can do.”
Despite the haunted, defeated look in his eyes she knew only too well, the one that she’d seen each time she’d glanced in a mirror for years, he stood ramrod straight, his posture daring her to call him out for something. If ever anyone needed a hug and a pat on the back, it was this kid, but even if she tried to offer that comfort, he would refuse. He might not have much, but he had his pride. Pride was all that had sustained her back then, too.
Alexis smiled at the young boy, hoping he would recognize a kindred spirit and not an enemy.
“Let’s start with your names, shall we?”
“I’m Zee, this is Maverick, and that’s Stretch.”
He wasn’t giving away their identities. The boys were no doubt runaways with no intention of going back. She could respect that.
“We’re not punks if that’s what you’re thinking, and we didn’t start that fire.” His chin lifted defiantly, daring her to accuse him of lying.
Alexis examined the boys. What were they? Eighteen? Younger? Zee’s red hair was singed as was his shirt. The one he’d called Maverick was the one with the bandaged arm. The other, Stretch, was the shortest of the bunch, possibly the youngest, and had scorch marks on his clothing as well as a flash burn on the side of his face.
“I know that, Zee,” she said, sympathizing with the boy whose life must’ve been a living hell to make him leave. No one chose to run away without a damn good reason. “I never thought you had.”
Sitting on the edge of the tailgate, squeezing in beside the boys, Alexis pulled out the small notebook she’d brought with her. She took a moment to search the crowd for Fire Angel’s mind, but if he was nearby, he’d found a way to block her.
Zee scrutinized her, no doubt weighing what she’d said and deciding whether or not she could be trusted. She met his gaze.
He nodded, replacing the belligerence on his face with sorrow.
“What do you want to know?”
“Were you three living inside the shelter?”
“Yeah, first warm, dry place we’ve had in months. Our rooms are over there, in the part without flames. We even registered to go back to school after Christmas. They were going to let us stay here in exchange for doing odd jobs.” He brushed at his cheek, smearing it with dirt. “Looks like we can’t get a break.”
“I’m sorry. I know life doesn’t seem fair, but you can’t give up.” Maybe Jake could do something to help these kids. “Where were you when the fire started?”
“You’re not going to rat us out, are you?” Zee asked, that protective chip on his shoulder the size of a two by four back in place.
“No. I told you. I’m here to study the fire, not hand out demerits if you’ve broken curfew.” Kids who’d made the decision to run distrusted adults even more than their counterparts did.
Zee nodded. “Okay. We snuck into the gym. It’s off-limits at night, but it’s cold out and we wanted to smoke a joint. We heard three loud bangs, like a car backfiring, and then the fire alarm went off, and we ran out into the main hallway. Maverick was racing down the hall because this girl he likes was in the kitchen. That’s when the metal doors halfway down started closing. Mav grabbed a chair to try and prop them open, but when he leaned against the edge of the door, his flipping shirt caught fire. It, like, exploded! Stretch was right beside him, and his face got a blast of it. We threw Mav to the ground and rolled him, you know, the way they teach you to do in kindergarten—stop, drop, and roll. That’s the only useful thing I’ve ever learned in school.”
Maverick spoke up, his voice hesitant. “I don’t know what was on that door, but it felt like it was eating my arm.”
“But you’re feeling okay now?” she asked, gazing from him to Stretch and back again.
The boy nodded. “Yeah, the paramedic cleaned it and put something on it before the gauze. It still stings, but I’m good.”
“You guys have been a big help so far. I’ll be right back,” she said. “I need to check something with her. By the way, where did you score the weed?”
“One of the bikers. He said it was an early Christmas present. Some dude gave it to him on the way in and told him to spread the wealth.” He sobered. “That guy’s not going to see Christmas, is he?”
She shook her head. “No. He probably won’t.”
Going over to the paramedic who was taking the pregnant girl’s blood pressure, Alexis waited until the woman finished. Her gut told her where this was going, and she didn’t like it one damn bit.
“I know you’re busy, but can I ask you a question?” When the paramedic nodded, she continued. “Maverick’s burn, is it a fire burn or a chemical burn?”
“Actually, it’s a chemical burn. I’ve seen one like it before, but I can’t place it.” She shook her head. “It’s the only one of its kind I’ve seen tonight. Most people have soot on them, but there are very few burns of any sort. I didn’t treat them all, and the worse ones went straight to the ER. Those boys probably saved a few lives; by holding that door open those extra minutes, at least a dozen women escaped from the dining room, including our pregnant miss.” She shook her head. “The weight of the door pushed the chair out of the way before they could get anyone else out. I heard the firefighter say that it’s as if those doors were welded shut.” She shook her head, her lips pursed.
“Think carefully,” Alexis said, wanting to get back to the original question. “Could it be a cyanoacrylate burn? You know, super glue? His shirt is cotton, and if he rubbed against some of that, then there would have been an exothermic reaction.”
“That’s it,” the paramedic exclaimed. “That’s where I’ve seen a burn like that one before. A couple of kids at Camp Summerfield were using super glue to make kites last summer and decided to use cotton fabric instead of the plastic they’d been given. They were seriously injured. The smoke was weird—it was white and really caustic. I’d never heard of fire with pure white smoke before.”
“Thanks.”
Swallowing her fear, she walked over to her three witnesses. “Guys, when Maverick’s shirt burned, what color was the smoke?”
Maverick shook his head. “Believe it or not, it was white.�
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Alexis nodded. “You guys were really brave tonight. You could have saved yourselves, but you put yourself in danger to rescue others. You’re heroes.”
Maverick let the tears roll down his cheeks. “But I couldn’t save my girlfriend,” he said and turned away, his body shaking.
Zee looked at his friend’s back and then turned to her. “We have our own reasons for being on the streets, but we’re not cowards. We would’ve gone back in if they would’ve let us.”
“I know. Not everyone living on the streets is in the wrong. There are a lot of monsters behind closed doors,” Alexis said, her voice conveying all the sympathy and understanding she felt. “What color was the rest of the smoke?”
“Thick and black,” Stretch said. “Like it is now. I figure something happened to the stove. It sounded like an explosion or something.”
“An explosion? Are you sure of that?” Alexis asked, her brow puckered.
“Yeah, like we said, three loud bangs.”
“Thanks guys. You’ve been a big help.”
The son of a bitch had changed his MO again, this time starting the fire from a distance. If he hadn’t been inside when it started, would her gift work? Had he been that badly hurt at Duffy’s? Or had he needed to change things up because of the size and scope of this event?
“Hey, they’re bringing someone down,” Stretch cried.
Alexis looked up at the far end of the roof, immediately recognizing the dark colored body bag the firefighters were passing down the ladder.
“Is that person dead?” Zee asked.
She nodded. “I’m sorry. No one left inside now will have survived.”
The coroner’s van and the hearse would be full tonight.
“Thanks for your help. Let them check you out. You did inhale some of that smoke. I’m sure they’ll find you places to stay in the short-term. If I need to talk to you again, I’ll ask the chief where they’ve placed you. You guys are local heroes. That break you were looking for may not be as far away as you think.”
Alexis turned and crossed to the police car where Tom and Patrick stood with Jake.
“Did you see anyone up there?” she asked.
She stretched her mind again, but without any luck.
Tom shook his head and answered. “We couldn’t get into the church to check because the doors are locked. We’re trying to find someone with a key, but the other rooftops are clear. Jake had us check on Lamont Kirby. He and his girlfriend are on the balcony watching. She’s pretty broken up. Her sister was in there. She’s trying to find out if she was one of the ones who got out, but no one’s identifying anyone.”
“I didn’t see anyone acting suspicious either,” Jake said, moving over to stand beside her. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone who’s overly curious, and I didn’t see anyone who doesn’t belong here. The gawkers are the usual sort, but no one stands out.”
“Did you see Dr. Shillingham?” she asked, looking directly at Jake.
He frowned.
“Doc’s over there,” Pat said, pointing to the pickup where the pregnant girl was. “Do you need him?”
“No, I was asking for the paramedic,” she lied.
“Were the kids any help?” Jake asked, the look in his eyes telling her he had questions for later.
“Yes. I have news, and believe me, none of it’s good.” She took his arm, craving the sense of security she’d felt with him earlier and not ashamed of it. She spotted the mobile canteen set up on the edge of the perimeter. “Look that Frank guy you’re always going on about has the canteen here. Kind of creepy, but I could use a cup.”
“Nothing creepy about it. The town has him on retainer for emergencies. Everybody needs a break. You know, sooner or later everyone stops by and talks to him. He’s probably the best eyes we have here.”
“Then let’s go and talk to him,” she said. “He may know something that might help.”
Chapter Nineteen
Alexis followed Jake over to the truck set up on the edge of the crowd. It never ceased to amaze her that morbid curiosity could drag people out of warm beds into the freezing cold to watch others suffer, or in this case, die. And they said animals were beasts.
“On the house for you,” the man said, handing them each a Styrofoam cup.
“Thanks, Frank. Have you met Alexis?” he asked, accepting the cup and a date square wrapped in plastic.
“We knew one another before,” Frank mumbled, handing her a cup and a chocolate brownie. “Welcome back. Heard you’re the one who’s going to get this guy.”
“I’m going to try,” she said, smiling. “Thanks.”
He looked away so quickly, he probably hadn’t even heard her. As she recalled, the man had always been a little shy.
“I don’t know how we would manage without you,” Jake said. “The guys really appreciate this.”
“Lynette called and got me out of bed.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Said it was an emergency.” His shyness didn’t seem to extend to Jake. “Pretty bad one, is it? Did everybody get out?” he asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” Jake answered. “Listen, Frank. I have a favor to ask. Can you keep an eye out for anyone acting strangely? Anyone who doesn’t belong?”
“Be happy to. Talked to the doctor a little while ago. The guy seems a little overwhelmed. I suppose he’s seen stuff this bad in Montreal, but ... I’m always ready to do my part, you know that. They’ll be a lot of crying before this is over.”
“I know. Thanks for the treats.”
Alexis finished doctoring her coffee.
“Linc and Ev are over here.” He pointed to the men back beside the yellow car. “You can tell us all what you’ve learned at the same time.”
She nodded.
As they crossed over water-filled hoses, Alexis shuddered as that “someone walked over her grave” frisson grabbed her. The hatred she sensed stunned her and she jerked, spilling some of her coffee, scalding her fingers. She stopped and looked around. Over by the rescue vehicle, a man was looking her way. Was that Dr. Shillingham? Was he the source of the animosity? The impression vanished, and she relaxed.
“Seven dead so far,” Ev said, breaking into her thoughts. “Two of them children.” The chief shook his head. “They’ve cleared the upstairs rooms, but the men haven’t been able to get onto the first floor. The fire’s still too involved. They’re going to see if they can go in through the ceiling, but ... There’s no telling how many more they’ll find.”
“If we assume that the Fire Angel lit this fire, he’s escalated. If it’s a copycat, then he has outdone his mentor, and we have one hell of a problem on our hands,” Linc added.
“It’s him, but you’re right,” she said, confirming what she knew was his worst-case scenario. “He’s changed his MO and has grown exponentially. In the first fire, he killed one, then he doubled that to two, with three as collateral damage. The third time, he doubled his intended targets to four. If the pattern holds, eight people will have been targeted, but how many will be collateral damage like at the house? It looks as if anyone in the west side of the building was fair game. He made it impossible for them to escape.”
“What do you mean? Do you think he reconnected those fire doors?”
“I’m afraid so.”
She related what she’d learned and watched their faces fill with horror as she spoke. She knew that this was not what they wanted to hear.
“I’m sure that you’ll find evidence of some sort of explosive devices, possibly home-made pipe bombs. Since he’s already experimented with Molotov cocktails, this isn’t much of a stretch. You can learn to make those on the internet, and like the other fire starters and accelerants he’s used, they don’t need sophisticated ingredients. With all the farms around here, fertilizer would be easy to get.” She let that sink in before sharing the worst.
“I won’t know for sure until I examine the doors, but my money is on a new super glue compound specifically designed to bond m
etal to metal. There are two or three different brands available online. Once applied to a surface, the super glue stays tacky until the bond is made. That means he had access to the building—access that was considered routine—like those men reinsulating the place, or someone who could come and go at will.”
The fire marshal shook his head.
“My God, Alexis! Do you know what you’re saying?” he shouted. “This is a shelter, a sanctuary for the abused. You can’t possibly mean what I think you do—that whoever started this fire knew he’d be killing women and children?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, and it scares me to death because I don’t know whether they were the targets or the collateral damage. He has no boundaries. We’re missing something here. But the good news, if you want to call it that, is that we have twenty-eight days before he strikes again. He only sets his fires on the night of the full moon. That means something to him. I just wish I knew what.”
She stopped speaking and looked around at the crowd. Was he still here? Was he watching the damage and chaos he’d created? Maybe he’d even gotten a cup of coffee from Frank. She turned back to the men.
“Is he a pyromaniac? Not in the classic sense. Yes, he loves fire, admires it, but for him, fire is the ultimate weapon. He’s playing God, punishing those he sees as guilty—the drug dealer, the handymen who did shoddy work, Duffy who overcharged, and the targets in there. Collateral damage means nothing. He’s smart, a master manipulator, and no one suspects him. The line between genius and insanity is a fine one, and he’s crossed it, maybe not for the first time, either.” She paused again to let them consider what she’d said. “I know it’s hard to get medical information without specifics, but we need to start looking for someone who’s had a psychotic break in the past. Maybe talk to the psychiatrists in North Bay. We’ll run into patient confidentiality issues, but we’re going to have to try to get around them. This guy could be anyone. No one notices him. He comes and goes at will. As Jake said before when we were talking, the man’s a ghost. If you find Rohypnol in the bodies they’re bringing down from upstairs, then he’s drugging them right under their noses, and no one is any wiser. And as Jake and I realized earlier, he’s getting inside information. Hell, he could be a cop, a firefighter, a paramedic, the list is endless. He’s probably here right now—watching, helping, doing whatever he does, and no one realizes he’s the monster behind it all. But one thing is certain; he’s not an angel of mercy. He has no intention of rescuing anyone. And, with that in mind, I don’t think that gang of bikers was his target.”
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