Chapter Nine
About two weeks later, Franco and Rick were called to investigate an overnight residential fire in Five Points in which a family of five had died, including three kids aged nine to sixteen. If this was the work of their serial arsonist, he’d just escalated to the unthinkable. Of course, there might be another arsonist wanting to fly under the radar in the hopes this fire might be blamed on the other arsonist.
Franco hated to think anyone would intentionally set fire to a building with anyone inside, much less kids. However, he’d learned long ago that not everyone lived with the same sense of right and wrong he’d been raised with.
They arrived on scene that morning to find several areas in the two-story structure still smoldering. Once the battalion chief on scene deemed the fire under control enough to begin investigations, Franco and the senior investigator donned their turnout gear. They started toward the garage before pausing near the trash and recycling containers at the side of the driveway. There had been a spate of trash can fires in Victor’s neighborhood in June. This house was about three blocks from there—closer to where Franco lived.
Don’t get paranoid.
The arsonist wasn’t trying to taunt them. How would they even know where Victor and Franco lived? The arsonist just liked targeting downtown and near-downtown neighborhoods. Who the fuck knew what their intention was? So far, other than geographic proximity, they hadn’t found any connection between the owners or renters of any of the properties.
But Franco intended to find out and be able to stop them before they started another fire.
After determining the origin of the fire, they looked for how it had moved into the main house. Had the family been targeted or just at the wrong house, wrong time?
Following the fire’s progression, they were surprised to find a trail leading to the backyard. The smell of gasoline was strong, so this had been no accident. At the B-C corner, the hottest part of the fire went straight across the back of the garage, then faded.
Franco pointed upward to the roof of the garage. The vinyl siding had melted away but hadn’t slowed down the fire, which had torched the eaves and spread across the roof. Only a matter of time before the house would have become engulfed.
The family must have had time for smoke alarms to sound, if they had working ones in the residence. And what about neighbors? He would have expected there to have been 911 calls made from multiple sources, even if the fire had originated at about three o’clock in the morning.
“I’ll take the second floor,” Rick said.
Franco nodded, a little relieved.
Knowing that all five family members had been found upstairs, Franco’s senior partner offered to go upstairs where the bedrooms probably were located, knowing it would be harder on a rookie. Not that the bodies were still there, but he’d discovered a body in a fire in Leadville once and wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
The two spent the next several hours determining how the fire had spread. The flames had quickly shot to the roof of the second story after burning through the garage roof. Salvage crews from the fire department had gone through and gathered up what they could find to give to next of kin.
Franco’s heart broke at the sight of a child’s toy in the living room that had been overlooked by the salvage crew. Without surviving family members around to tell them what was important to them, the firefighters on the salvage crew could only guess. The toy brought the sting of tears to his eyes, thinking about the kids who once played with it, and he blinked them away, trying to remain professional. Aside from finding bodies, bringing items like this to the family waiting outside was one of the things Franco hated most, always difficult but even more so in a fatality fire.
Was there even a family member outside this time? He hadn’t heard there were any survivors inside the house. How the fuck could someone be so callous about the lives of others?
Had there been some kind of vendetta or payback involved? If so, was the target one of the parents or one of the kids? There had been two teenagers killed. Lord knows teens could be just as deadly as adults, maybe even more so because they might not understand that death is final and forever.
Franco expected this investigation would take a lot of time to sort out—and he and Rick would lose sleep in the process. Returning to the kitchen, he asked Rick, “What have you found so far?”
“No evidence that he’d been inside the house setting more fires.”
Of course, the perp could be a woman or even more than one person, but statistically, most arsonists were men who worked alone.
After canvassing the neighbors on both sides of the street, he and Rick had compared notes, collected evidence, took dozens of photos, and documented what they could on the scene. After releasing the house to the police, they headed back to headquarters to start putting in hours of phone calls, trying to learn more about the family involved. He also wanted to listen to the 911 calls that had come in for this fire and check media footage, both what had aired and what the reporters might have recorded that revealed any suspicious bystanders.
The sun had set by the time he left the office that night, and he was unsure what his plans would be for the evening. He couldn’t stop thinking about the Richards family. They had a name now. And faces that would haunt him the rest of his life, especially those three kids.
Had Franco ever seen the members of this family while jogging past some morning or evening? Had one of them smiled at him as he passed? Would he have acknowledged them or been in the zone and only focused on running and breathing?
Find the motherfucker who did this and make them pay.
That wouldn’t happen tonight. As he drove home, avoiding the street where the Richards family had been killed, Franco’s thoughts turned to Rico. He kept hoping to hear something from him. It had been two months since they’d played at the club. He’d almost gone back to the Masters at Arms once last month, but Grant had advised against it. He’d have had to go solo, though, which didn’t appeal to him as much as returning to play with Rico. But every time he’d reached out, Rico had texted back that he couldn’t get away from his cousin. Apparently, she wasn’t doing very well.
That broke Franco’s heart. Rico had no siblings; the cousins were as close as a brother and sister.
Even though Franco and most of his own cousins were an ocean apart, he would have hated for any of them to be going through something like this. God forbid any of his immediate family members be stricken with an aggressive cancer or illness that didn’t respond to treatments, which seemed to be the case here.
But even sadder was the fact that Michelle’s daughter would be left motherless if they didn’t get the miracle they were praying for. Franco wished there was something he could do to help relieve some of the stress, but whenever he asked via text, Rico assured him he had it covered.
But did he?
Franco resolved to do something—and not just because he wanted to see Rico. Pulling out his phone before getting into the truck, he texted Rico.
FRANCO: I’m bringing some to-go food over for you three. Would you prefer it tonight or tomorrow?
Best that he stop asking how he can help and just jump in. He was only two blocks from home when his phone pinged. Franco pulled over to park before checking the screen.
RICO: Thanks. No need to bring food. But I can use your help.
Franco did a double take, wondering what had brought about the change. Rico texted an address and Franco programmed it into his GPS. The South Park Hill neighborhood wasn’t too far away from where Franco lived. His friend had been not more than fifteen minutes away all this time.
Happy to have an excuse to see Rico, even if he wasn’t sure what he might be getting into, Franco turned at the next street and headed east a few blocks before turning southward again. At the light-colored brick apartment building, he found a parking spot and went to the main entrance. Buzzing the apartment number he’d been given, he waited until a child answered.
“Hello?”
This must be the daughter of Rico’s cousin. “Hi! I’m Franco, a friend of Rico’s. He asked me to come over.”
“Just a minute. I’ll check with my uncle.”
Good girl.
She shouldn’t let just anyone in. But uncle? Was that further evidence of the closeness of Rico’s bond with them or merely a title of respect?
It took a minute before he heard Rico’s voice.
“Franco?”
His heart kicked up a beat before he answered. “Yeah.”
The buzzer rang to unlock the door. “Come on up to the second floor. No elevator. Turn right at the top of the stairs.”
Franco opened the door and proceeded up the stairs. It wasn’t a high-end apartment or condo building, but the place was clean and obviously had a decent level of security. He didn’t have to knock, because the door opened while he was still a couple of yards away.
Rico looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair had been raked through with fingers more than a few times, and his clothes were rumpled as if he’d slept in them. Rico tried to be fastidious about his appearance, which spoke to what he was going through now.
“Thanks for coming.”
“Anytime. What can I do to help?”
He walked past Rico, who then closed the door. A dark-haired girl of about nine or ten peeked around the corner.
“Come on out, Sweetie,” Rico coaxed. She reluctantly left her place of safety to stand partially behind Rico, holding onto his waist. “Franco, this is my cousin’s daughter, Gina. Sweetie, this is my best friend from high school, Franco.”
“Nice to meet you, Gina.” He held out his hand, but she didn’t accept it, and he pulled his own back to his side.
“How are your math skills?” Rico asked.
“I use them every day. Why?”
“Gina’s doing some stuff that’s way beyond what I can remember, and we need some help. Don’t we, Sweetie?”
The girl nodded shyly but didn’t seem too sure about letting this stranger get too close. Hoping to ease some of the tension, he hunkered down closer to her height so as to be less intimidating.
“I work with the fire department, and we use math for lots of things.”
“You’re a firefighter?”
“Used to be, only now I investigate the causes of fires here in the Denver area. But I used to work at a fire station with my little brother. And I have two other brothers who are firefighters in another station, plus a brother-in-law who is a paramedic at one of those stations. And my new sister-in-law is training to be a firefighter too.”
“Mama told me girls can be anything they want, but I never saw a girl firefighter before. That’s so cool!” Gina extended her hand, and Franco shook it. “Can I go see the fire station sometime?”
Franco supposed his job sounded far less exciting than his brothers’ and Dakota’s.
“We’ll see,” Rico answered for him. “As long as they invite us.” Before Franco could extend an open invitation, he continued. “Now, what kind of homework assignment do you have?”
She assessed Franco a moment longer before turning around and going back to her bedroom. Franco stood again. Was he supposed to follow? He looked to Rico for guidance.
“Gina’s a little shy at first, but she’ll warm up soon. She just went to get her homework. You two can work on it at the dining room table.”
Franco nodded. “How are you doing, Rico? You look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks.” Rico shrugged then sighed. “Honestly, I feel like hell. It’s been rough here lately, I won’t lie. I’m glad you came, though, because I’m afraid Gina’s getting neglected lately.”
Tears filled Rico’s eyes, and Franco wanted to pull him into a hug to let him know he was here for him, but Gina came back in the room carrying her textbook, a piece of paper, and a pencil. Rico helped her get settled at the table.
“Sweetie, I’m just going to be in the kitchen getting something for your mom to drink. You and Franco go ahead and work on those word problems now so you won’t be up too late tonight.”
Because none of his siblings had made him an uncle yet, Franco hadn’t spent much time around kids. He hoped he wouldn’t be too uncomfortable around her, or vice versa. “Let’s take a look at that first problem.”
She slid a worksheet closer to him, pointing to the question on the paper. Most of his classmates had hated word problems too, but even as a kid, he’d loved gleaning the facts and coming to a logical conclusion to the problems. Nowadays, he did some of that on the job every day.
Franco read over the problem, trying not to let Rico’s nearness distract him. Hadn’t he said something about taking a drink to his cousin? Instead, he stood and watched the two of them. Franco had a hard time keeping his eyes off the man. Finally, Rico went into the connected kitchen.
Ahem. Focus.
“Okay, first off, Gina, let’s circle the important numbers and labels.” It took her a while, but she identified just about every potential source of information. He pointed out the only one she missed then asked, “Now, underline what the question is that we need to answer.” She zeroed in on that immediately.
“Let’s put a box around all the clues we have.” He showed her what he meant with the first one just about the time Rico came closer carrying a tumbler.
“I’m just going to take this shake to your mama, Gina. Holler if you need me for anything.”
She looked at him, at Franco, then back at Rico.
“Okay, Zio Rico.”
Gina didn’t sound like she trusted Franco completely, but knowing Rico would be within shouting distance must have relieved her concerns. They spent the next thirty minutes working through the five problems on the sheet.
“You’re doing great, Gina.”
“Thanks. You make it easier to figure out, Mr. Franco.”
“You can call me Franco.”
She smiled at him, and his heart melted a little. No wonder Rico liked spending time with her.
After they’d completed the last problem, she stood up. “I’m going to put this stuff in my backpack. Be right back.”
She practically bounced out of the room. Alone, Franco stood and started surveying the room. A smoke detector hung on the wall near the ceiling by the kitchen. He hoped they also had some down the hallway and in their bedrooms.
The furniture seemed to be old but good quality and comfortable. He wandered over to a credenza that held a thirty-six-inch flatscreen TV and lots of photos, all of Gina apparently, at different stages in her young life. He picked up one of Gina at about two and flashed back to Angelina at that age. The two could have been sisters, although Italians shared a lot of facial features. He’d bet money that Gina’s mother also came from Sicily, perhaps even the Palermo area where the Giardanos came from. Pellegrino was a more popular surname there than Franco’s.
He heard a knock at a door down the hall. “Zio Rico, can I say good night to Mama?” The uncertainty in Gina’s voice told him there must have been nights when she hadn’t been able to do so.
But this time, Rico opened the door. “Finish with your math homework already?”
“Yeah. Franco helped me figure it all out.”
“Wonderful! Mama’s kinda sleepy now, but come on in and give her a kiss good night.”
If Michelle didn’t survive, what would that mean for Gina? Was Rico the only family member taking care of Michelle? Surely, he’d make sure Gina wasn’t left alone, but there didn’t appear to be a father in the picture.
He’d never understand how men could abandon or neglect their own flesh and blood. Kids probably weren’t in the cards for him, unless he found the perfect partner and they adopted or arranged for a surrogate to give birth for them. Realistically, his still being uncommitted at thirty-five, he didn’t see that as a sure bet at this point.
Minutes later, Gina came running back into the living area and launched herself into Franco’s arms, taking him by surprise. “Thank you for helping me with my math, Franco.”
Franco hugged her in return, unsure what to make of the sudden change in her demeanor, but apparently, he no longer scared her.
“Anytime, Gina. Your Zio Rico can call me whenever you need help, and I’ll come over if I can. Or we might even be able to sort it out on the phone or FaceTime if I’m working late.”
Gina held on longer than he expected, and he let her. Was her mother still able to return her hugs, or was she too weak? His heart bled for the little girl. When she finally pulled away, he noticed her long eyelashes were clumped from crying. “You can call me even if it’s not to help with math, okay?”
She nodded. “I have to get ready for bed now so Zio Rico can tuck me in. Good night, Franco.”
She turned and ran back down the hallway, leaving Franco a little thunderstruck. He’d only known her a short time and already felt a bond forming between them.
Franco stood and returned his focus to the collection of framed photos, wondering for the first time in his life what it might be like to be a parent.
“Give me a few minutes.” Rico stood in the hallway opening at the other end of the living and dining room area. Franco hadn’t even heard him approach. “Let me get Gina into bed, and then maybe we can chat a bit before you leave.”
The dark circles under Rico’s eyes worried him. Franco needed to find some way to help ease his burden. If nothing else, he could help out with Gina and take one responsibility off his friend’s shoulders.
But Franco hated that they’d been drawn back together under such tragic circumstances.