Chapter 23
"Callum, sit for me a second."
"I'm good," I say, already on my feet, brushing grit off my palms. The heat rolls off the building behind me and the sirens stack up, engines pulling in tight along the curb.
A paramedic steps into my space, gloved hand light on my arm. "Just a quick look. Any trouble breathing?"
"No." I pull in a breath to prove it and let it out slow. "I'm fine."
He watches my chest, counts under his breath, then lifts a penlight. "Follow my finger."
I do, because it's faster than arguing. Behind him, what's left of the building drops in a rush of sparks and shifting debris. Smoke climbs and swallows the light on Surfside Drive.
"No dizziness?"
"No."
He nods. "You're clear. Stay out of the hot zone."
"Wasn't planning on going back in," I say.
An officer steps in from my blind side. "Hands behind your back, sir."
I look at him once, then turn and give him my wrists. Cold metal closes with a clean click. He keeps it low, out of the direct line of sight, but not hidden enough to miss if anyone is looking.
"Standard procedure," he says under his breath.
"Yeah," I say, and roll my shoulders once to settle the pull.
I move anyway, angling left toward Maureen, the officer staying close at my elbow like he's escorting me out. I step around a coil of hose and broken glass.
Maureen is on the asphalt with her knees pulled in, arms locked tight across her ribs like she is bracing for impact that already happened. Her sleeve is blackened at the cuff. She keeps her eyes on the wreckage and doesn't blink.
"Maureen," I say.
Her gaze skims past me and goes back to the fire like it should be argued with.
Pham comes in from my right without breaking stride, two officers with her while another holds the tape. She clocks the cuffs, then my face, and moves on without comment.
"Ms. Pike. On your feet."
Maureen plants a hand and pushes up. She sways once, catches it, then straightens. Her eyes move to Pham, then to me, then back to the building.
"I didn't know about this fire," she says, quick. "I want that on record."
I shift my weight, wrists fixed behind me, and keep my hands still so I don't test the metal. Radios chatter behind us. Heat presses against my back.
Pham steps closer, voice even. "You'll have plenty of chances to put things on record. You can do it here, or we can do it somewhere with chairs."
Maureen looks at the cruiser, then at the ground, then at me again like she's checking for a different outcome.
"Anywhere but here is fine," she says.
"Turn around," an officer says, already moving in.
Maureen turns when she sees the cuffs come out. Her shoulders drop a fraction when they close.
"Watch your step," the officer says as he guides her past me and starts into the rights. "You have the right to remain silent."
Maureen nods and doesn't look at me again.
I turn my head and track Stein being loaded into a unit. He sits angled away from the door, jaw tight, eyes forward. His attorney is on the ground near the bumper with his hands secured, still talking to no one.
"All units stand by for traffic," someone says into a radio.
"Copy," comes back.
Two of Stein's guys are walked out in opposite directions, each with a hand on the back of his collar. One stumbles and gets corrected without a word.
Pham stands between all of it, tracking each movement. "Unit three, hold the perimeter," she says. "Log every transfer."
"On it," someone answers.
Doors slam and locks click in quick succession, engines idling low as one by one the cruisers pull out and take Stein, his crew, and Maureen with them, the lights washing the scene before fading as they turn the corner.
The officer at my elbow shifts closer. "Hold still," he says, and reaches behind me.
The cuffs open. The weight leaves my wrists.
"You're clear," he says, low enough that it doesn't carry.
I bring my hands forward, rub the mark at one wrist with my thumb, and nod once. "Thanks."
Pham comes back to me. "You've looked better."
"South wall," I say, pointing with my chin. "Charges were set there."
"We know." She steps closer, eyes on mine for a beat, then flicks to my hands and back. "Accelerant matches the previous scenes."
"Yeah." I roll my shoulders once, checking range without making it a thing.
She lowers a fraction so we are eye to eye. "Can you stand?"
"I'm good." I shift my feet until the ground settles where it should. The horizon wavers for a second and then locks in.
"Maureen talked," I say, wiping my palm against my jeans and pointing back toward the burn with my chin. "They tied us both up and she was afraid she was going to die. She started talking before she could stop herself and you should record this before she cleans it up during interrogation."
Pham studies my face for a beat. "Start at the beginning."
I step closer so we can hear each other over the engines.
"He set it up as a private negotiation. Said he wanted to resolve it off the books."
I shift my weight and start to replay it out loud when a radio cracks near us, "Unit three, confirm perimeter."
I pick up where I left off. "I walked in and it was immediately wrong. Maureen was already here with them. His guys were placed like they were waiting on a signal."
"Positions," Pham says. "Who was where?"
I turn and map it with my hand in the air, marking bodies against space. "Two by the door. One behind the table. Maureen here." I tap the spot in front of me. "Stein stayed back. Let them close the room."
"And then?"
"Then I smelled it." I pull in a breath on instinct and taste the leftover smoke again. "The accelerant. Strong and fresh, then within minutes there was smoke."
"Timing," she says.
"Fifteen minutes, maybe less." I meet her eyes. "Not enough time to do anything clean. Just enough to start it and get out."
She nods, already tracking ahead. "Ignition source?"
"Remote or delayed. I didn't see it." I glance back at the wreckage. "He wasn't planning to be in the room when it went."
"He never is," Pham says.
I shake my head once. "His plan was to walk out with the building gone and two bodies inside it. The fire was supposed to hide the evidence."
"Matches Kellerman," she says, voice flat and certain. "Same approach. Destroy the structure, bury the trail in the investigation."
"Maureen's story," I say, and rub a smear of soot off my thumb against my jeans.
"She knew about the inspection manipulation.
She pushed the narrative ahead of every acquisition.
Favorable pieces on the projects, compliance buried, timing it so by the time a sale closed it looked like the neighborhood wanted it. "
Pham watches me, eyes steady. "Go on."
"She knew exactly what she was doing. This wasn't passive coverage."
"No," Pham says.
I shift my stance, boot scraping on grit. "How far back?"
She takes a second, scanning the scene as she answers, one hand coming up to key her radio and then dropping again. "Twelve years. At least."
"Twelve," I repeat, letting it land while I track the engines repositioning along the curb.
"We have clusters in four other counties," she says. "Same pattern each time. Stein identifies a parcel. Owner resists. Six to eighteen months later there's a compliance issue or a fire."
I nod once, following it.
"Property sells at distressed value," she continues. "Maureen's coverage follows. Framed as revitalization. Always just after the fact."
I look back at the burn, at what used to be walls. Something clicks into place. I feel it before I name it.
"She didn't understand what Kellerman was," I say, looking at Pham. "Not at the start."
"Tell me what she told you."
I drag a hand down the back of my neck, grit catching at my skin, and look past Pham at the blackened frame where the wall used to be. "She went into buildings," I say. "Not just walked through them. She made changes."
"What kind of changes?"
"Panels. Suppression timing. Alarm relays." I motion it out with my hand like I'm tracing wires that are not there anymore. "She said Stein called it inspection prep. Said they were getting ahead of the county. Bringing old systems up before anyone flagged them."
Pham's eyes stay on me. "And she bought that?"
"At first." I nod once. "She thought she was helping him clean things up." I shift my stance, boot grinding into the asphalt. "She didn't question it until after Kellerman."
Pham exhales through her nose and gives a small nod. "That lines up with what we have. Access logs are starting to put her at a number of earlier sites."
"Yeah." I look at her. "She was inside those buildings."
Pham tilts her head a fraction. "She knew enough not to say anything after," she says. "That's where Stein locked it down."
The words settle somewhere deep and unpleasant in my chest. I can still hear Maureen in that room, smoke pushing in low while her voice went careful around certain details, like she was trying to decide how much she could survive saying out loud.
"He used Kellerman as leverage," I say. "After the fire."
"It appears so." Pham watches the lane where the last cruiser disappeared. "He made sure she knew Kellerman could always be tied back to her."
I look back at the wreckage. "He wasn't planning to let her walk away from this talking," I say, quieter now. "He'd already gotten everything he needed from her."
I look at the ruined south wall and feel my jaw tighten before I can stop it.
Two of my crew walked into a building like this and never made it back out.
I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth and let the memory hit without stepping away from it.
Six years of reports, dead ends, and questions that never landed anywhere.
I track the cruiser lights disappearing at the end of the block and know the man in the back seat is the reason.
I pull in a breath. Smoke still in it, but cleaner than it was.