CHAPTER 5
Cole
While this apartment is almost twice as big as the one I moved out of, it still feels way too small sitting next to Tessa.
Both of us are hunched over my dining table like grad students cramming for finals instead of two professionals dissecting a corporate arson scheme.
Because we’re sharing documents, we chose adjacent chairs where we could easily pass information back and forth or lean the other’s way if needed.
It’s admittedly difficult to concentrate sitting this close to her. She’s as beautiful and sexy as ever, and a mere five minutes into our conversation last night at her house dredged up all kinds of feelings.
We broke up on the singular issue of her job and the dangers it posed.
She was reckless back then, charging into gang-related territories to try to get a lead or poking at crooked politicians who could have ruined her.
Outside of her job and my inability to handle the stress of worrying over her, everything else was perfect.
We were perfect. Our sex life was explosive and when I say there’s never been another like her, it’s not even close.
We aligned on values, shared the same sense of humor, and my family loved her.
It was five years ago and when boiling it down to the one line in the sand I would not give up on, it seems a little surreal that I’d let someone like her go because we couldn’t compromise.
White cartons are scattered between us—lo mein half-finished, General Tso’s wiped clean, two unopened fortune cookies pushed to the side.
After our meeting with Malik, I gave Tessa a VIP tour of the entire building.
Then we set up here for the day to start sifting through the items on the flash drive while the security team worked on her house.
We’ve been at this pretty much all day and the sun set a long time ago.
She has her laptop open, the glow reflecting in her eyes as she scrolls through the structured summary Josie compiled from the flash drive.
I have three printed wildfire reports spread out in front of me, annotated in pen, burn patterns circled and wind direction notes scrawled in the margins.
Investigations were done and arson was never on the radar.
It’s going to fall to me to see if I can pinpoint how RainVest was pulling this off to look innocuous.
“Josie’s good,” Tessa murmurs, scrolling. “She’s managed to take what would have been weeks’ worth of reading this information and has compiled it into spreadsheets with charts and graphs. It’s still going to take me a few days to get through it all, though.”
I flip through wind data charts regarding a wildfire in Southern Oregon last year. “That’s her job as an intelligence specialist, but I’m sure she used BOB to help congregate the data.”
“I haven’t met him yet,” Tessa says.
I can’t help but laugh. “BOB’s not a person. It’s an artificial intelligence system Jameson developed to provide predictive analysis.”
Tessa levels a sheepish smile. “Oh. At any rate, this puts the situation in better perspective for me.” She again looks at her screen, but then her eyes pop right back to me as she frowns. “What’s BOB stand for?”
I lift a shoulder. “It doesn’t stand for anything as far as I know. They just call it Bob. He’s like one of the team.”
Tessa snorts and I push the papers aside, leaning in my chair until it tips on its back legs. “Lay it out for me. I’m still not quite sure I understand how this all fits together.”
Tessa pushes her laptop aside and leans forward on the table, crossing her arms. It does lovely things to her breasts, but I keep my eyes fixed on hers.
“Okay… so Gavin DelRey is the CEO of a real estate development group based in Seattle called RainVest. Erik reached out to me as a whistleblower with evidence that RainVest was starting wildfires in order to devalue land and then snapping it up at bargain prices.”
“How does one go about doing that? Where does the proof lead?”
“It’s convoluted for sure. Basically, RainVest identifies high-value land that’s for sale in areas that are at risk for destruction.
Think on the East Coast for hurricanes, or here in the Pacific Northwest, wildfires.
When the property is destroyed, and the value shrinks, they go in with lowball offers.
Perfectly legitimate practice, except Erik said that RainVest was starting wildfires to effectuate cheap land grabs.
” Tessa pauses, her mouth turning downward.
“Erik said two campers died in one of those wildfires and that’s what prompted him to reach out to me. ”
I nod at her computer. “And what did you figure out based on the flash drive?”
“There’s an obvious correlation between the timing of the disaster and the purchase of the land, but there are two things that tie it all together.
RainVest contracted with environmental impact study groups to locate particularly at-risk properties, then based on those studies, they set up shell holding companies to receive the property once purchased at a discount. ”
I frown at her. “I don’t know, Tessa. That’s pretty circumstantial.”
Her beautiful blue eyes glow with excitement and she leans forward a bit more, deepening her cleavage, which I still refuse to look at.
“I agree, but there’s information on the flash drive that links all of it…
copies of email correspondence between DelRey and his COO, Adrian Schwartz—who Erik worked for—where they actually discuss the scheme. ”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You’re kidding?”
“No, pretty stupid of them, right?” Her smile slips and her face scrunches.
“I mean… it’s in vague terms, but I think it’s clear what they’re talking about.
What I can’t quite figure out is why none of the investigations revealed arson.
The results were either acts of God or negligence.
So, I can show that RainVest executives talked about setting fires, but they’ll just point to the official investigations, which never found arson. ”
Now it’s my turn to smile. “I think I can help you there.” I reach over and grab the wind report and wave it at her. “They capitalize on red flag conditions.”
“What do you mean?”
“I analyzed all the fire patterns and the only ones RainVest targeted were lands with wind advisories and extreme drought. The perfect scenario where a thunderstorm with lightning or a neglected campfire would set a blaze ripping. As such, investigators wouldn’t ever be thinking arson.
They’re going to naturally conclude the area was ripe for disaster. ”
“I knew you’d be able to find something,” She murmurs in awe.
“The key is the wind. All these fires happened during high wind advisories, which would explain the spread patterns and cause accelerant to burn out so fast, it wouldn’t be detectable. Fire investigators are already expecting wildfires, and they probably wouldn’t look very hard.”
Tessa rests her chin in her palm, contemplating. “Which begs the question… who started the fires? Because I seriously doubt Gavin DelRey did it himself.”
“Your whistleblower didn’t say?” I ask.
She yawns and covers it with the back of her hand, then stretches her arms overhead, spine arching as she twists in her chair. “No, only that everything I would need was on that flash drive, so hopefully it will be apparent when I see it.”
“I can help you get through it.” I mean, I’ve got nothing else to do since Malik has relegated me to full-time watchdog over Tessa.
“We’ve been doing this all day,” she says with a grimace. “My brain feels like overcooked noodles.”
“That’s an image I didn’t need.”
She shoots me a faint smile, pushes her chair back, and stands, rolling her shoulders. The hem of her T-shirt lifts an inch before she tugs it down absently. “When will my house be ready? I’d really like to sleep in my bed tonight.”
I glance at my watch. “Probably not for another few hours. You might want to consider staying here another night.”
Tessa sighs, her mouth turned downward, but I also see determination. “Fine,” she huffs. “But I need a break. Think I can walk around the block for some fresh air?”
“No.”
She stills slowly. “Excuse me?”
I set my pen down and lean back in my chair. “You’re not wandering Pioneer Square alone at night when someone already used a vehicle to eliminate your source.”
Her jaw tightens. “Well, you are my protector, so I should be safe, right?”
“Absolutely,” I say, standing up from the chair. “But I’ve actually got a better idea. Come on.”
She hesitates a second, then follows me out of my apartment.
Instead of heading for the elevator, I guide her toward the far end of the corridor where a secured metal door sits.
I punch in the access code and wait for the magnetic lock to release with a muted click, then pull it open and lead her up the narrow industrial staircase beyond it—steel treads, black handrail, our footsteps echoing faintly in the enclosed shaft.
At the top, I key in one more code and push through the final door, and the rooftop opens up, cool night air rushing in as the Seattle skyline stretches before us.
Tessa inhales a short gasp of surprise at this little oasis.
A low concrete wall about four feet high runs the perimeter, high enough to give privacy from neighboring buildings but low enough that the skyline is visible.
Dark, weather-resistant seating is arranged around a square firepit that will get plenty of use as we head into fall.
Anna installed a few narrow herb planters she filled with rosemary, thyme, and basil and invited us all to share.
Beyond the wall, Pioneer Square spreads out in shadow and amber light from the lamppost, and farther out the skyline rises—glass and steel against a slate sky. On clear nights, the Space Needle burns bright across the distance, but tonight it’s partially veiled in mist.
Tessa steps out fully and draws in a long breath. “Okay,” she admits softly. “This is better.”