Chapter 20
Marco
The library storage room is colder than it was three days ago.
I’m standing in the same spot where the fire originated, camera in hand, documenting everything one more time. Phoebe is with me, taking measurements of the burn patterns with her tape measure and tablet.
“Same accelerant,” she says, not looking up from her notes. “Lab results came back this morning. Matches the café fire perfectly. Same brand of gasoline, same amateur application method.”
“Same perpetrator.”
“Most likely. Unless we’ve got two different arsonists in Millbrook Falls using the same technique and buying their gas from the same station.” She photographs the floor damage. “Which would be statistically improbable.”
I crouch near the pour patterns. The lines are clearer now that the debris has been cleared away. Someone stood right here, splashed gasoline across the floor in deliberate patterns, then lit it and walked away.
Just like at the café.
“Motive?” I ask.
“That’s your department, not mine.” Phoebe moves to the doorway, checking the exit route. “But whoever did this knew the building layout.”
“Professional knowledge or just common sense?”
“Could be either. Fire 101 says you start where there’s fuel and limited detection.” She looks at me. “You’ve been staring at these burn patterns for three days. What are you seeing that I’m not?”
“I’m seeing someone in a hurry. Someone who knows enough to use accelerant and pick the right location, but not enough to cover their tracks properly.
” I stand up, brushing ash off my gloves.
“These aren’t professional hits. They’re amateur work by someone who’s trying to make something look like an accident but doesn’t know how. ”
“Or someone who doesn’t care if it looks like arson. Maybe the point is the fire itself, not hiding it.”
“Then why two locations? Why the café and the library?” I take another photo. “What’s the connection?”
“Rachel Morgan,” Phoebe says it matter-of-factly, like she’s stating the weather. “She’s the only common factor we can confirm. Present at both fires, both times in the building when it started.”
“She’s not setting them herself.”
“I didn’t say she was. But she’s connected somehow.
Either she’s the target, or she’s adjacent to the target, or she’s witnessing something she doesn’t realize she’s witnessing.
” Phoebe closes her tablet. “Have you considered that maybe the fires aren’t about the buildings at all?
Maybe they’re about timing. About who’s supposed to be where when the fire starts. ”
I think about that.
“If someone’s targeting Rachel specifically, there are easier ways to hurt her than burning down buildings she happens to be in.”
“Unless the buildings are secondary. Collateral damage.” Phoebe heads toward the exit. “Or maybe we’re overthinking this and it’s just a firebug who likes watching things burn. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“No. This is deliberate. Planned.” I follow her out of the storage room. “I just need to figure out what the plan is.”
We finish documenting the scene and head back to our vehicles. Phoebe’s driving back to the county office to file the reports. I’m supposed to be doing the same.
Instead, I find myself driving toward Jake’s house.
Not for official business. Not for follow-up questioning. Just because I need to see that Rachel’s okay with my own eyes instead of taking everyone else’s word for it.
Jake’s truck is in the driveway when I pull up. So is Rachel’s car. Through the living room window, I can see movement inside.
I knock on the door.
Jake answers, looking surprised. “Marco. Hey. Didn’t know you were stopping by.”
“Was in the area. Thought I’d check in.” I step inside when he moves back. “How’s everyone doing?”
“Trying to keep our spirits high.” He closes the door. “Rachel’s in the kitchen. Tommy’s upstairs building something. You want coffee?”
“Sure.”
I follow him to the kitchen. Rachel’s at the table with her laptop open, surrounded by papers that look like job applications. She glances up when we walk in.
“Marco. Hi.”
“Rachel.” I nod at the laptop. “Job hunting?”
“Trying to. Not going well.” She closes the laptop.
Jake hands me a mug. “Derek called again this morning. Left another message about the custody filing.”
“What’s he saying?” I ask.
“The usual threats.” Rachel pours coffee with more force than necessary. “That I’m unstable. That Tommy deserves better. That he’s going to save his son from his disaster of a mother.”
“He’s bluffing.”
“Maybe. But he’s also filing paperwork with a lawyer, so it’s not entirely a bluff.” She sets the coffee pot down. “And with the viral videos and the unemployment and the general chaos of my life right now, he might actually have a case.”
“He doesn’t have a case. He has manipulation tactics.” I take a sip of coffee. “Any judge who looks at his history versus yours will see exactly what he is.”
“I hope you’re right.”
The doorbell rings.
Jake frowns. “Expecting anyone?”
“No.” Rachel’s face goes pale. “Unless—”
“I’ll get it.” Jake heads toward the front door.
Rachel and I follow. Something in her expression tells me she knows exactly who’s at the door.
Jake opens it.
Derek stands on the porch, wearing an expensive suit and the kind of smile that doesn’t reach his eyes: mid-thirties, polished, the type who looks good on paper and terrible in person.
“Jake. Good to see you.” He doesn’t wait for an invitation. Just steps inside like he owns the place. “I’m here to see my son.”
“Derek.” Rachel’s voice is flat. “What are you doing here?”
“I have a right to see Tommy. Or are you planning to violate my parental rights along with everything else?” He looks around the living room with obvious judgment. “Nice place. Very… cozy. This is where you’re raising my son? In your brother’s house?”
“What do you want?” Rachel doesn’t move from where she’s standing.
“I want to see Tommy. I want to talk to him without you hovering and poisoning him against me.” Derek’s smile widens. “I’m his father. I have rights.”
“You haven’t seen him in months.”
Derek pulls out his phone and turns it toward her. “This you?”
It’s the library evacuation video. Rachel covered in soot, Tommy in her arms, both looking terrified.
“I was getting my son out of a burning building.”
“You were at another fire.” Derek pockets his phone. “Any reasonable person would ask why. What you’re doing that keeps putting my son in danger.”
Jake steps forward. “You need to leave.”
“I need to see my son. That’s not negotiable.” Derek doesn’t even look at Jake. His focus stays locked on Rachel. “You can make this easy and bring him down here, or you can make it difficult, and we’ll let the courts decide. Your choice.”
“He’s upstairs playing. I’m not interrupting his afternoon because you decided to show up unannounced.” Rachel’s hands are shaking, but her voice stays steady. “If you want to see Tommy, you schedule it through proper channels. You don’t show up at my door making demands.”
“Your door? This isn’t your house, Rachel. This is your brother’s house where you’re living rent-free because you can’t support yourself.” Derek’s smile turns cruel. “How long before he gets tired of supporting you? How long before Tommy realizes his mother’s a failure?”
That’s when I step forward.
“You need to leave.” My voice comes out cold. “Now.”
Derek looks at me for the first time. “And you are?”
“Someone telling you to leave before this becomes a legal issue.” I don’t move closer or raise my voice. Don’t need to. “You’ve delivered your message. Now go.”
“I have a right to see my son.”
“You have a right to scheduled visitation through proper legal channels. You don’t have the right to show up unannounced and harass his mother.” I cross my arms. “Leave. Or I call the police, and we let them sort out who has what rights.”
Derek’s jaw tightens. For a moment, I think he’s going to push it and force the confrontation.
Then he looks at Rachel. “This isn’t over. The custody hearing is in three weeks. Be ready.”
He turns and walks out without another word.
Jake closes the door the second Derek’s off the porch.
Rachel’s still standing in the same spot, shaking like she’s trying to hold herself together through sheer force of will.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Fine. I’m fine.” But her voice cracks on the second fine. “He’s right, you know about all of it. I am living in my brother’s house. I am unemployed. I was at two fires. Any judge looking at my life right now would question whether Tommy should be with me.”
“Any judge looking at Derek for five minutes would question whether Tommy should be anywhere near him.” I keep my voice even. “He’s manipulative. Controlling. That display just now. That was emotional abuse. Classic intimidation tactics.”
“That was Derek being Derek.” She sinks onto the couch. “And he’s going to use every single thing I’ve done wrong as ammunition.”
Jake sits beside her. “We’ll fight this. We’ll get you a lawyer. We’ll show the judge exactly who Derek is.”
“With what money? I can’t even afford my own apartment right now.” Rachel presses her hands over her face. “He’s going to win. He’s going to take Tommy, and I’m not going to be able to stop him.”
“He’s not going to win.” I sit in the armchair across from them. “Because we’re going to make sure he doesn’t.”
She drops her hands and looks at me. “Why do you care? This isn’t your problem.”
“You’re Jake’s sister. Jake’s my friend. That makes it my problem.” It’s not the whole truth, but it’s true enough. “And I don’t like bullies. Derek’s a bully. I’ve dealt with his type before.”
“In the military?”
“And after. People like Derek exist everywhere. They think intimidation and manipulation are viable strategies because it’s worked for them before.” I lean forward. “But he’s dealing with people who won’t back down now. And that’s his mistake.”
Rachel’s quiet for a long moment. Then: “Thank you. For stepping in. For making him leave.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Thank me when the custody hearing’s over and you still have Tommy.”
“You really think I’ll win?”
“I think Derek just showed his hand. He’s aggressive, controlling, and willing to harass you at your home. That’s not the behavior of someone who cares about Tommy’s well-being. That’s the behavior of someone who wants to win.” I stand up. “And when we show the judge that difference, Derek loses.”
I head toward the door. Jake follows me out onto the porch.
“Thanks for that,” he says quietly. “I was about to punch him, which wouldn’t have helped Rachel’s case.”
“Probably not.” I look back at the house. “Derek’s dangerous. Not physically, but emotionally. He knows exactly how to hurt her.”
“I know. I’ve been watching him do it for years.” Jake runs a hand through his hair. “I’m leaving for Alaska in a couple of weeks. I don’t want to leave her dealing with this alone.”
“She won’t be alone. Cole, Theo, and I will make sure of that.”
Jake studies my face. “You guys have been spending a lot of time with her lately.”
“She’s family. That’s what you do for family.”
“Right. Family.” But something in his tone says he’s not entirely buying it. “Just… be careful. Rachel’s vulnerable right now. She doesn’t need anyone making her life more complicated.”
“We’re not complicating anything. We’re helping.”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m worried about.”
He goes back inside before I can ask what he means by that.
I head to my truck and sit behind the wheel without starting the engine.
Rachel’s not just dealing with fires. She’s dealing with an ex who wants to destroy her, a custody battle she can’t afford to fight, internet harassment that won’t stop, and unemployment that makes everything worse.
Multiple threats from multiple directions.
And I just got a front-row view of exactly what kind of life she escaped when she came back to Millbrook Falls.
Derek’s not going to stop. He’s going to keep pushing, keep manipulating, keep using every weapon he has until he gets what he wants.
Which means we need to make sure he doesn’t get what he wants.
I start the engine and pull out of the driveway.
The fires are still a mystery. But Derek? Derek’s a problem I know how to handle.
And I’m going to make sure Rachel has every resource she needs to fight him.