Chapter 21
LEO
“ T his reminds me of Kandahar,” I say.
We’re at the scene of a fourth arson fire, hours after we put the flames out. It’s still hot in the building, but with all of the windows smashed, along with the holes we put in the roof, it’s breathable. Good enough to take photos for a proper investigation.
It’s almost nine in the evening. The sun long gone.
Ember Ridge is winding down, except for the occasional car driving by.
“Kandahar?” Dax asks, giving me a curious look. “Which time? The IED in the market, or the car that blew up the southern bridge?”
“Neither. The time they came for us in the middle of the night.”
“When they attacked our base,” Dax sighs deeply .
Beck is taking detailed photos of every flashpoint in every room. It’s a tedious process and not part of his job description, but he likes to help, and Lord knows we need all hands on deck for this one. Two people died today. Someone will have to notify their families.
“What’s that got to do with our arsonist?” he asks.
“It’s not that. It’s the quiet, the slow-burning tension, the not knowing what Marcus’s next move is going to be,” I reply. “It’s the anticipation. At least in Kandahar we knew they were coming. It was simply a matter of when.”
“I remember,” Dax says. “Always looking over our shoulder. Guards on twenty-four-seven shifts at the base entrance.”
“And yet they still found a way in,” I say.
“They drove a fucking burning truck through the gates at three o’clock in the morning. Talk about the element of surprise.”
“Point is, I don’t like this,” I motion at the devastation around us. “It feels like a distraction.”
The walls are blackened, and some have fallen down. There’s a thick layer of soot pretty much everywhere. Fine particles of ash linger in the air, visible in my flashlight’s beam of white light. The smell of the aftermath of a deadly fire brings a grim silence along with it.
“Do you think Marcus has figured out that Olivia is in Ember Ridge yet?” Dax says with a frown, taking copious notes as he observes the burn lines and the trails of accelerant.
“I wouldn’t exclude the possibility. With Chloe in the wind, he must have Ember Ridge in the back of his mind for sure. It’s what I would do if I were hunting the girls,” I say .
Beck shakes his head. “But we haven’t seen or heard from him anywhere in town.”
“It doesn’t mean he doesn’t have eyes around here,” I point out. “Maybe we should have Olivia stay with Chloe, at least until we figure out what he’s up to.”
“She and Carlos are driving back from the cabin now,” Dax replies, briefly checking the messages on his phone. “I don’t think she’ll want to do that.”
“Agreed. In fact, she made it clear that she’s not running anymore,” Beck says. “Olivia wants a normal life. All we can do is make sure she gets it.”
I move around the room to the place where we suspect the fire started.
It used to be a storage room, and it has metallic shelves and plenty of cleaning products.
The metal is mostly melted, the shelf structures grossly bent and deformed from the destructive heat.
The smell of chemicals is pungent and is burning my nose, even through my mask.
As I follow the traces of accelerant, I come to a corner with a stack of debris. Inanimate victims of the laws of physics: a tin canister, part of a shelf, melted brooms, mops, and buckets.
“Not knowing what the guy is up to is sending my mind through every possible scenario,” I tell the guys.
“I think we’re all processing the situation to the best of our abilities. You’ve always been our lookout, Leo, always the one who picked the highest ground, so you could see everything clearly,” Dax says.
“Hold up,” I mutter and crouch in front of the debris. “There’s something here. ”
I put my gloves on and start pulling pieces and bits aside, each movement careful so as not to disturb the scene too much.
“Do you need extra light and a recording?” Beck asks.
“Great idea. Yes, please.”
He comes over and angles his flashlight while turning his phone to record the entire operation. Piece by piece, I manage to reveal the molten remnants of what looks like the core of an incendiary device.
“Same as the warehouse,” Dax says, his voice turning cold, as we now have confirmation. “Same shell, same wiring.”
“There’s going to be explosive residue all over this room for the arson squad to document tomorrow,” I say. “I’ll make sure they bring the chemical kits with them. We’ll need a full panel.”
“Agreed. So one incendiary device in the flash point,” Dax says, taking notes, then looking around. “Miller had the Truck crew working the eastern part of the building. He said the flames were hotter and brighter on that side.”
“Chances are we’ll find another device there,” I say.
Ten minutes later, we’re on the eastern side, taking notes and pictures, as we move quietly in the death-like darkness of the night. I recognize the powerful smell of accelerant, which grows stronger as we approach the server room.
“This was an office building, right?” Beck asks, crinkling his nose as he breathes in, then moves along the wall with his flashlight to get a better look.
“Yes. Perry Chandler owns it,” I say .
“Farmer-turned-crypto billionaire,” he says and chuckles dryly.
“The man figured out there was value in Bitcoin at a time when people didn’t think crypto would last a month,” I reply.
“Now, he owns two brokerage firms and a financial securities company that he never visited. This place held the latter. And this, their server room, had some high-tech devices stacked together.”
Dax nods in agreement as he uses his flashlight to look around. “As evidenced by the racks and the melted cables.”
“A lot of people are suffering on account of this arsonist,” Beck grumbles, his anger increasing.
“The townspeople are scared. Small business owners are terrified. If this guy is brazen enough to hit big spots like Chandler’s securities firm and Walton’s stationery warehouse, not to mention Pimm’s and Willard’s buildings before them, who knows who’s going to be next? ”
“They are all high-level targets designed to get our attention,” I conclude. “He’s very skilled, I’ll give him that. He’s getting sloppy, though. The warehouse devices went off late.”
Dax stops behind one of the server racks. “Got it.”
“Secondary device?”
“What’s left of it, anyway, another incendiary device.”
“The server racks are made of a special alloy designed to withstand high temperatures,” I add, joining him and Beck.
It burned first, by the looks of it. I pull out the charred remains of a small transmitter and flip it over under the beam of my flashlight. Dax observes every circuit and groove .
“Activated remotely,” he says. “This is some high-level stuff, brother.”
“Shit, turn it over again,” Beck says. “The camera sensor picked something up.”
I turn it over, shining the light on it once more while Beck zooms in and snaps a few stills from the video recording. “That’s a fingerprint,” I declare. “It was on the inside of the device.”
“Latent, but clear enough to be used,” Dax replies. “The fuel was most likely dispersed on the other side of the device.”
It’s one hell of a break in our case. I text the fingerprint images to Carlos.
“Hopefully, Carlos will have something to run it against,” Dax says.
“I asked him to check every single database—law enforcement and firehouses included,” I say.
He gives me a worried look. “Law enforcement?”
I lay out my theory so far. “The guy knows how we operate. He knows how to set these fires, how to inflict the greatest amount of damage in the shortest amount of time. And if you look at the map, he chooses these locations because they’re the farthest from our reach.
He’s clearly experienced with incendiary and explosive devices, and he doesn’t mind switching from one to the other, depending on his objective, so, yes, he could be a former or active firefighter or a member of law enforcement. ”
“Might explain the guy I saw on the roof,” Dax mutters.
“We didn’t find anyone to corroborate that,” I remind him .
“I set that thought aside, but now that you mention it, he could be one of ours… Leo, I didn’t imagine him. Maybe he just knew where to be, so he could watch his work unfold without anybody detecting him.”
“Describe him again,” Beck says.
“Tall, light brown or blonde hair. I can’t remember much else. Everything was sort of hazy,” Dax says and sighs deeply.
“You were blown out of that warehouse, Dax. It’s a miracle you saw that much,” I tell him, placing a hand on his shoulder for good measure.
“It’s better than nothing. Let’s see what Carlos’s search yields.
If we get a match and the guy’s description fits what you saw, we’ll be a hell of a lot closer to catching the fucker. ”
“Amen to that, because we already have enough on our plates,” Beck says.
“The guy they first arrested doesn’t match your description, and he has an alibi for today’s incident. They’re going to have to cut him loose. The arson investigation will confirm that it’s the same MO.”
“Jocelyn will throw a hissy fit,” Dax replies with a wry smile.
“At least it’ll keep her busy and away from us and Olivia.”