Chapter 7 The Missing Piece #3
He had been part of the project.
And then he disappeared from the records.
“What if he was there that night?”
Nico didn't answer immediately.
“That is possible.”
Gideon turned away.
His mind went back to the warehouse.
The smoke.
The heat.
The alarms.
The evacuation order.
Marcus.
He remembered people shouting.
He remembered someone running past him near the loading area.
He remembered a figure disappearing through smoke.
At the time, he had thought nothing of it.
There had been too much happening.
Now he wondered whether his memory had simply been overwhelmed.
“Gideon?”
“I remember seeing someone.”
Nico remained quiet.
“I don't know who.”
“Before or during the fire?”
“During.”
Gideon closed his eyes.
“There were people moving everywhere. Contractors. Workers. Emergency crews. I couldn't see faces.”
“That's understandable.”
Gideon opened his eyes.
“But what if he was one of them?”
Nico didn't try to reassure him.
He knew better.
“What if he wasn't supposed to be there?” Gideon continued.
“Then the report should have addressed it.”
“Exactly.”
The word came out harder than he intended.
He put both hands against the counter.
For six years, Gideon had believed his worst decision was going back into that building after the evacuation order.
He had believed the story was simple.
A firefighter heard a voice.
A firefighter made a choice.
A firefighter went back.
A building collapsed.
A man died.
Another man survived.
The guilt had filled in every blank.
Now there were blanks he had never noticed.
“Who investigated the contractors?”
Nico searched the document.
“State fire investigators, local authorities, and the insurance investigators.”
“Names?”
Nico showed him.
Gideon read them.
One name made him pause.
“I remember him.”
“Who?”
“This investigator.”
“What about him?”
“He interviewed me.”
Nico waited.
“He asked about Marcus.”
“And?”
“He kept asking whether I had disobeyed the evacuation order.”
Gideon's voice became quieter.
“I thought he was trying to understand why I went back.”
“Maybe he was.”
“Maybe.”
Gideon looked at the photograph.
“But he never asked me about the workers.”
Nico's expression tightened.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Gideon remembered the interview room.
The bright lights.
The questions.
His hands shaking beneath the table.
He had been exhausted, medicated, burned, and barely able to sleep.
They had asked about his decision.
They had asked whether he heard Marcus.
They had asked why he entered again.
Nobody had asked him about an unfamiliar worker with a tattoo.
Nobody had shown him photographs.
Nobody had asked whether the evacuation order had been confusing.
Nobody had asked whether the building was properly secured.
Gideon felt something cold settle in his chest.
“They were focused on me.”
Nico said nothing.
“Maybe that was easier.”
“Easier than what?”
“Making the investigation about a firefighter's decision instead of asking why the building became so dangerous.”
Nico's eyes met his.
Gideon knew how that sounded.
He also knew he couldn't ignore it anymore.
He picked up the photograph again.
“Maybe they didn't miss this.”
Nico's voice was quiet.
“Maybe they chose not to look.”
Gideon stared at the tattooed man.
The thought frightened him more than he wanted to admit.
For years, he had believed the fire was the worst thing that had happened to him.
Now he wondered whether the fire had only been the beginning.
He looked at Nico.
“If this person was connected to the warehouse, I need to know who he is.”
“I know.”
“And if he was there that night—”
“We'll find out.”
Gideon studied him.
“You said we.”
Nico didn't look away.
“Yes.”
Gideon felt something tighten in his chest.
“You don't have to be involved.”
“I know.”
“Nico.”
“I said I know.”
There was no fear in Nico's voice.
No pity.
Only certainty.
Gideon looked down at the photograph.
Then at Nico.
For the first time, the past didn't feel like a closed room he had been trapped inside.
It felt like a locked door.
And they had just found a key.
Gideon slipped the photograph carefully into the envelope.
“We need copies.”
“I already made digital ones.”
“Of course you did.”
Nico smiled faintly.
“I run a tattoo studio. I know how to preserve reference material.”
Gideon almost smiled back.
Almost.
Then his expression became serious again.
“Don't show this to anyone yet.”
Nico nodded.
“Agreed.”
Gideon looked toward the window.
Across the street stood the firehouse where he had begun his new life.
Behind him stood the man who had somehow become part of it.
Between them was an old photograph containing a face Gideon couldn't recognize and a tattoo Nico could.
A missing person.
A missing name.
A missing piece of the truth.
Gideon had spent six years believing he knew exactly what happened in that warehouse.
Now he understood something much more frightening.
He might have been wrong.
And if he was wrong about the fire, he might also have been wrong about the guilt he had carried ever since.
For the first time, Gideon wasn't sure which possibility frightened him more.
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