Christmas Up in Flames

by Lisa Harris

  Sasha sat next to Reid as Claire started going through the room, beginning with the door and ending with the window. She didn’t say anything as she assessed the scene, focusing instead entirely on the job at hand. He watched her work, not surprised at how seriously she took her job, her expression intense as she combed the room for clues.

  “Do you see anything that stands out?” he asked as she turned back to him.

  “There’s some debris in the window’s sliding track as well as some rust that has accumulated. But there doesn’t seem to be any obvious sign of tampering. And while I thought I checked it last night, I was pretty tired when I got in and probably didn’t. But the door...” She turned back around to him. “It doesn’t make sense that the door wouldn’t open.”

  “I believe you, if that means anything. I had to break down the door.”

  “But why?”

  He knew she was searching for something to prove that all of this was nothing more than an electrical fire, and for whatever reason, the door had swelled and stuck from the heat of the fire.

  “It’s possible that the door stuck because of swelling,” he said, “or because the handle was old and the locking mechanism stuck.”

  “Maybe.”

  She stood in front of the window again, going over every inch of the frame. Watching her work, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the memories or the details of their relationship. Like how her favorite food was grilled cheese sandwiches. How she loved to swim and had once considered competing on a national level and trying to make it into the Olympics. How she loved daisies and walking in the rain.

  For almost six years, Reid had tried to forget her, and most of the time he succeeded. But then he’d dream about her, and it always seemed so real, he could almost smell her perfume lingering in the air when he woke up. But despite calling her dozens of times, he’d never seen her again after the day he’d broken things off with her. Eventually, he’d done his best to put her out of his mind. He’d tried dating again, but for some reason, no one had made him feel the way Claire did.

  Which is why he’d told her he couldn’t see himself settling down and having a family. Even all these years later, she was the only person he’d ever been able to imagine being with.

  “Reid.”

  “Sorry... I was thinking of something else.”

  Of you.

  Something he had to stop.

  Having her back in town and working with her meant too many memories were swirling on the surface, and he couldn’t quite figure out how to stuff them back into the box where he’d had them locked away for so long.

  But he’d made too many mistakes with Claire, and he had no desire to rekindle a relationship that was based on the person he used to be. Back then, he’d bought into the lie that he was too far gone for God to forgive the constant string of bad choices he’d made. Instead, he went to bed guilty at night when he’d drunk too much or partied too hard, because it was easier to just sweep it under the table and cover it up in the darkness.

  But looking back he’d realized that God had never stopped working.

  “I was just wondering if you had any theories,” she said, breaking into his thoughts.

  “Not yet. Tell me about the arson fires you’ve been working on,” he said, shifting his train of thought.

  “The arsonist has always used an accelerant, as well as a slow-burning device. We also always found an antique lighter at the scene—like they were a part of someone’s collection. We’re still working to trace them, but so far haven’t been able to.”

  “I’ll be honest,” Reid said. “I haven’t really heard much about the fires.”

  “That’s been on purpose. We’ve tried to keep the connections away from any news outlets, since many arsonists love the attention and it often fuels the fires. We need to avoid that.”

  “The farm building that burned down last week...that’s the reason you’re here.”

  She nodded.

  “Who knows you’re here?” he asked.

  “It’s not like it’s been announced. I haven’t told anyone except my mother, and of course my boss knows and your captain.” She rested her hands on her hips. “Can you have Sasha search the house for any accelerant?”

  “Of course.”

  “I think if we do find some, it will be downstairs, but it’s worth looking here too. Our arsonist’s MO has been acetone and gasoline.”

  Reid gave Sasha the command, then followed as she made her way around the room.

  Nothing.

  He bent down and rubbed her behind the ears. “Good girl, Sasha.”

  “Why don’t we take her downstairs and see if she can find something,” Claire said.

  “Claire Holiday...” Captain Ryder stepped into the room and held out his hand to shake Claire’s. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the hospital to check on you, but I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Reid’s been taking good care of me.”

  “I knew he would. I apologize for the rocky welcome. This fire...are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just want to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.”

  “I spoke to the owners. Mr. Graham said the window does have a habit of getting stuck, but no one has ever complained about the door.”

  “A possible coincidence then?” she asked.

  “Perhaps, but you need to see this.” Captain Ryder pulled an evidence bag out of his pocket. “We found this antique brass lighter downstairs in the preliminary scene assessment. The Grahams said it wasn’t theirs. I understand it fits into the arsonist’s MO.”

  “It does.” Claire’s face paled as she caught Reid’s gaze. “Which indicates that what happened here has to be connected to the Rocky Mountain fires.”

  A wave of nausea swept through Reid. “And it’s further proof that your being locked in this room wasn’t an accident.”

  FOUR

  Claire stood in the middle of the room where she’d slept the night before, struggling to process their theory about the fire. The fact that there had been no accelerant in the bedroom didn’t surprise her. There would have been far more damage. The finding of the lighter confirmed that this was connected to the arsonist she was searching for. This brought the total up to ten fires and added thousands of dollars more in damages. At least no one had died this time.

  Sunlight filtered through the white lace curtains, leaving patches of light across the rug. The only thing that remained of the fire was the heavy scent of smoke still lingering in the room, but if the fire department hadn’t put out the fire as quickly as they had, the entire house could have been destroyed.

  She turned in a slow circle, taking in the details of the room, not really sure what she was looking for. Had someone really tried to lock her in the room? Or were they jumping to conclusions too early with the limited evidence they had?

  She held up the evidence bag from the captain and studied the antique brass lighter. Without this, she might have been able to convince herself that this fire was simply a coincidence. The house was old, the wiring possibly faulty. She could also explain away the supposed jammed door, as well. Wood swelled at certain times of the year and old houses were known for their list of issues. A stuck door or window wasn’t uncommon. Everything that had happened could be explained away by the fact that she’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  But the lighter she was holding told a completely different story. She might believe in coincidences, but this was too much to be an accident. There had to be a connection between this fire and the arsons she was investigating, but did that mean she’d been targeted?

  “Claire...what are you thinking?”

  She looked at Reid and caught the concern in his eyes. “We’re going to have to move forward with the assumption that this is connected to the string of arson fires I’m investigati
ng.”

  “I think you’re right,” Reid said.

  “Is the scene secure?” she asked.

  “It is,” the captain said.

  “But you don’t have to be the one doing the investigating,” Reid said. “Someone else can come in, because if you’re a target—”

  “One, I’m still not sure if I am a target, and two, even if I am, I’m the perfect person to continue working this case.” She handed the captain back the lighter, certain she was making the right decision. “I investigated the other fires, which means I know firsthand the signature of the arsonist and what to look for better than anyone else. This is my investigation, and I’m going to see it through. We need to stop whoever’s behind it.”

  “Yes, we do,” Reid said. “I’m just concerned that—”

  “I’ll be fine, Reid.” She held up her hand as if waving away his concerns. “And something tells me I’ll have plenty of security ensuring my safety.”

  “She’s right,” the captain said. “Not only do I want you to continue as the liaison for our department, Reid, but to also keep an eye on her. I’ve already spoken to the sheriff’s department, and they’re going to be on high alert for anything suspicious going on in and around town. They’ve also promised to double their presence wherever you end up staying, Claire. You can call them day or night and they’ll be there immediately.”

  Claire let out a sigh, knowing that there was no use arguing with either of them. “I appreciate the concern, even though I’m not convinced it’s necessary. In the meantime, we need to get moving on this investigation. I want to do a scene assessment, starting with the origin of the fire, in order to ensure that the scene has been documented with both video and photos, and I want the photos printed out.”

  The captain nodded. “Not a problem. The sheriff’s also doing interviews with all the guests and will give us that information as soon as he’s done.”

  “Perfect. Just let him know I might need to do follow-up interviews.”

  “Of course.”

  She turned to Reid. “I’d like Sasha to see if she can detect any accelerant downstairs.”

  Claire followed the men out of the room, stopping only to pick up a penny wedged next to the door at the edge of the carpet. She was going to treat this like any other suspicious fire. She’d do her job evaluating and processing the scene and the evidence thoroughly, as always, and find whoever was behind the fires, making sure he never did something like this again.

  Downstairs, the kitchen walls were blackened, and the intense smell of smoke lingered in the air.

  “It’s sad,” she said, while Reid and Sasha searched for signs of accelerant. “This was such a beautiful place, and it’s going to take a lot of time to restore things. What did you find?”

  The captain stopped in front of one of the walls next to her. “Both the burn pattern and the blistering of the wood points to this being where the fire originated. On the surface it looks like an electrical issue might have started it. We found an aluminum wire connected to a copper switch, which could have caused a short.”

  “Maybe.” Claire studied the patterns of fire that had become familiar over the years. It was almost like reading the pages of a book. “We need to know if this area tests positive for an accelerant. The alligator char doesn’t always mean that a liquid accelerant was present.”

  “This time it does,” Reid said, crouching next to Sasha, who was sitting with a proud look on her face.

  “I don’t smell anything,” she said, walking over to them.

  “It’s there. Trust me.”

  She started sifting through the debris until she was able to pull up a small piece of the subflooring. She took a whiff. “Your girl was right. It smells like gasoline. So an accelerant was definitely used.”

  She stood back up, studying the room. “Where did you find the lighter, captain?”

  “On the other side of the kitchen. Next to the stove.” The captain crossed the room and pointed to the spot.

  Ten fires now, in the past eighteen months. The targets had been everything from commercial property to private homes. Always an antique lighter found near the origin of the fire. Some had been melted from the heat, but all had been identified as lighters.

  “What do you know about these vintage lighters?” Reid asked.

  “They used to be as common on people as cell phones are today,” she said. “We’re trying to track them down, but the problem is that you can buy them anywhere online today.”

  “Which means narrowing it down is going to be like trying to find a needle in a haystack,” Reid said.

  “Exactly.” Claire took a step back then turned to the captain. “While your team gets the photos together and you work on your initial assessment, I’d like to speak to the owners.”

  “Of course. They’re outside working in their garden, hoping to be able to go through the house and see what they can salvage. I told them they’d have to wait until we could give them the go-ahead.”

  “Good call.”

  The captain nodded toward the front door. “Why don’t the two of you go talk with them while we finish up here.”

  Mike and Sarah Graham, the owners of the B&B, were out working in their rose garden, which had been spared from the fire.

  “I bet these are stunning when they’re all in bloom,” Claire said, stopping in the middle of the manicured section.

  Sarah stood and pulled off her garden gloves before petting Sasha. “What a beautiful dog. And you’re right, the garden is stunning. The temperatures are supposed to drop down into the twenties tonight. I’d planned to work today on mulching them to protect them from the cold, but now... I’m not sure it matters. If we don’t have a B&B come spring, who’s going to care if my roses are thriving?”

  “I know this must all seem overwhelming,” Reid said, “but you’ll rebuild and reopen again. Just give yourselves some time.”

  “I hope so.” Her husband set the shovel he was using against the tree and joined them. “Honestly, we’re just thankful no one was injured. It could have been so much worse. We heard...” Mike glanced at his wife. “We heard you had a problem with the door to your room being jammed when the fire alarm was going off. If anything had happened to you or any of the guests—”

  Claire shook her head. “I want you both to stop feeling guilty over what happened. I’m all right. Everyone who was here is all right, and that’s what really matters. You’re going to have enough on your plate to get things rebuilt. Let me assure you, I’ve seen dozens of fires in my career, and you will be able to rebuild and open up again. Like Reid said, you are just going to have to give yourselves some time.”

  “I’m trying to remember that.” Sarah dropped her hands to her sides as she blinked back tears. “We’ve worked so hard to get this place up and running, and just when thing were going well... I don’t know. Starting over just seems so overwhelming.”

  “I’m sure it’s easy to think about closing after something like this,” Claire said, “but don’t make any decisions yet. And in the meantime, we need to ask you a couple questions.”

  “Of course.”

  “Did you hear anything or see anything out of place during the night?” Claire asked.

  Sarah glanced at her husband. “I wish I could say yes, but I normally sleep like a rock and I did last night. Mike? Anything?”

  “I did get up in the night, actually. I thought I heard one of the guests downstairs, maybe getting something to eat. Sarah always leaves out a few snacks in the dining room in case someone can’t sleep.”

  “And when you went downstairs, did you see anyone?” Reid asked.

  “No. No one was there.”

  “So what did you do?” Claire asked.

  “I checked the back door, which was unlocked. That was odd, as well.”

  “Do you normally lock up
the house?”

  “Always. I thought it was possible someone went outside because they forgot something in their car, but when I went outside to check, no one was there.”

  “How long was that before the fire?”

  “Not long, actually. I locked the back door, then went back upstairs and had just fallen asleep again when the fire alarm went off.”

  “And when you were downstairs, before the fire. Did you smell any smoke?”

  “No, but honestly, I don’t have a very sensitive nose, so I probably wouldn’t have noticed.”

  “Do you have any security cameras set up?” Claire said.

  “We have cameras on the front and back doors. Despite the fire, there’s a good chance we can download the footage.”

  “Good,” Claire said. “Is there anything else you can think of? Anything out of the ordinary that might have happened the last couple days?”

  “I can’t think of anything,” Mike said.

  “No. Me neither.” Sarah glanced at her husband for a moment, then turned back to Claire. “Are you thinking this wasn’t just an electrical fire?”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out. We will need access to your security footage.”

  “Of course. Anything you want,” Sarah said.

  “I appreciate it,” Claire said. “And in the meantime, don’t worry. You have enough on your plate. You should be able to get back into the house soon, and please let us know if you think of anything else that might help.”

  “We will.”

  Claire followed Reid down the stone path back to the house, her mind processing the information they’d just been given.

  “I think the arsonist was in the house, not someone coming down to get something to eat,” she said. “And then he slipped outside to avoid getting caught.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  “We need to go look at that security footage and see if we can identify who was in the house as well as anyone who showed up at the scene.”

  * * *

  Reid set a paper sack down in front of Claire, along with an orange juice for her and a coffee for him, then took a seat next to her in front of the computer where she’d been going through security footage from the B&B in the conference room of the sheriff’s office. “Find anything yet?”