Chapter 6 #2
She spotted Lena’s unmarked car pulling up to the police perimeter, and her pulse kicked up a notch as she watched Lena step out of her vehicle.
Lena surveyed the scene as she approached, taking in the crowd of displaced people, the damage, and the coordinated response. When her eyes landed on Erin’s across the chaos, an awareness passed between them.
“Detective.” Erin kept her voice level as Lena joined her and Captain Hunter.
“Marshal. Captain.” Lena’s tone was equally professional, but Erin caught the way her gaze lingered for half a second longer than necessary. “What’s the situation?”
Hallie briefed them both on the timeline and evacuation while Erin forced herself to focus on the details instead of the way Lena stood just slightly closer than protocol required.
“I need to examine the point of origin to see if it’s the same pattern as the previous fires,” Erin said.
Lena fell into step beside her as they approached the building. “The timing suggests our suspect is getting more brazen.”
Or more desperate, Erin thought. The conversation at her apartment came flooding back: their breakthrough about community targeting. “This fits the pattern we discussed this morning. The community center offered youth theater programs and LGBTQ+ safe space initiatives.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.” Lena’s voice was low, meant only for Erin’s ears.
They worked their way around the building’s perimeter, documenting the scene while firefighters finished their ventilation procedures. The backstage area showed clear signs of accelerant use, the familiar burn pattern they’d seen at previous sites visible.
“Same MO,” Erin murmured, photographing the scorch marks on the floor. “But they were rushed this time. The pour pattern is less precise than at the other scenes.”
Lena crouched beside her, close enough that Erin caught her familiar scent beneath the smoke. “What do you think interrupted them?”
"Could be the rehearsal that ran late or someone came back for something they forgot." Erin stood, nearly brushing against Lena in the confined space. "Or they're getting careless because they think we're not close to catching them."
"Are we?" Lena asked quietly. "Close to catching them?"
Their eyes locked in the dim backstage area, and for a moment Erin forgot they were discussing arson. The morning's unfinished conversation hung between them like smoke.
"Marshal Vance?" A voice from outside broke the spell. "We've got someone who wants to talk to you."
Erin reluctantly followed the firefighter outside, where a teenager with purple hair and paint under her fingernails waited by the ambulance.
"I'm Abigail," the girl said. "I was here when it started, and I saw someone leaving through the back alley right before the alarm went off."
Lena appeared beside them, her notebook already out. "Can you describe what you saw?"
"The person was about medium height, not that tall but not really short either, wearing a dark jacket and a baseball cap pulled low.
They were walking fast but trying not to look like they were running, you know?
" Abigail twisted her hands together. "I thought it was weird because only the cast and crew are supposed to use that exit. "
"Did you see their face?" Lena asked.
"No, but..." Abigail hesitated. "They walked like they knew the building and where they were going, not like someone who was lost or exploring. Like they'd been here before."
Erin exchanged a look with Lena. Someone who was familiar with the arts center’s layout, who knew about the back exit and when the building would be occupied.
"Abigail, do you know if anyone's been asking questions about the theater programs lately?" Erin asked. "Or seemed unusually interested in your schedules?"
The girl's eyes widened. "Actually, yeah. There was this guy a few weeks ago who said he worked for the city or something. He wanted to know about our safety procedures and how many people could be in the building at once. He seemed really focused on when we had the most people here."
Lena and Erin's eyes met again, this time with the sharp recognition of a real lead.
"We're going to need you to come to the station," Lena said gently. "You’re not in any trouble. We just want you to give the detectives a full statement and work with a sketch artist."
As Abigail nodded and headed toward Lena's car with a uniformed officer, Erin felt the familiar thrill of a case breaking open. But underneath it was the awareness that she and Lena were working together like partners, thinking in sync, and building off each other's questions.
The fire was contained, the scene was secured, and they had their first real witness.
But as they stood in the smoke and flashing emergency lights, Erin found herself thinking less about the arsonist and more about the woman standing beside her.
The inside of the arts center felt like a mausoleum of creativity interrupted.
Costumes hung on racks like ghosts, and half-painted set pieces stood abandoned where people had left them during the evacuation.
The acrid smell of smoke mixed with fabric dyes and wood glue created an atmosphere thick enough to cut.
Erin moved through the backstage area to where she was before talking with Abigail, photographing everything while Lena documented the scene from an investigative perspective.
The damage was contained and messier than at the other arson sites, but still deliberate.
Accelerant was poured in strategic lines that would have sent flames racing through the costume storage toward the main theater.
"They entered through the back door," Lena said, crouching near what had once been the stage manager's desk. "The lock shows signs of picking, not breaking."
"Someone who knew what they were doing." Erin aimed her camera at the burn patterns on the floor, noting how they radiated from three distinct points. "Look at this placement. They understood exactly how flames would travel through this space."
They were working in a rhythm now, their morning breakthrough about community targeting making everything click into place.
"Erin." Lena's voice was sharp. "Over here."
Erin turned to find Lena examining something behind a rack of period costumes. She squeezed through the narrow space, her shoulder brushing Lena's arm as she leaned in to see what had caught the detective's attention.
"It’s a timing device," Lena said, pointing to the remains of what looked like a digital clock mechanism. "More complex than anything we've seen before."
As Erin studied the melted plastic and exposed wires, her senses sharpened. "This isn’t the work of an amateur. Someone's been refining their technique."
They were standing closer than necessary in the narrow aisle between costume racks, the investigation requiring them to examine the same small area. Erin could feel warmth radiating from Lena's body and caught the faint scent of her perfume beneath the smoke damage.
"The accelerant pattern suggests they had at least fifteen minutes to set this up," Erin said, forcing herself to focus on the evidence instead of the way Lena's breathing had changed. "But Abigail saw them leaving in a hurry."
"Which means something spooked them." Lena shifted to get a better angle on the timing device, her hand bracing against the wall inches from Erin's shoulder.
Erin nodded, though part of her attention was drawn to how naturally they worked together in the confined space. The detective's focused intensity when working a scene was impressive in ways that went beyond professional competence.
"We need to bag this and get it to forensics," Lena said, reaching for an evidence container from her kit.
As she turned, her body moved closer to Erin’s, and for a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
"Detective Soto?" a voice called from the main theater. "We've got something out here."
The spell broke and Lena stepped back, professional distance reasserting itself like a protective barrier. "Coming," she called back, then looked at Erin. "You should come and see this too."
They emerged from the backstage maze to find Officer Sofia Martinez standing near the front row of theater seats, holding up a baseball cap.
"We found this under the seats," Sofia said. "Recent sweat stains, and the hat doesn't match any of the costumes or props."
Lena pulled on latex gloves and examined the cap, turning it over. "Navy blue, adjustable back, no logo." She looked up at Erin. "You think our arsonist dropped it when they heard the alarm?"
"It makes sense with Abigail's description," Erin said.
"We'll test for DNA and see if we get lucky." Lena sealed the cap in an evidence bag, then glanced around the theater space. "This place would have been full of teenagers if the fire had spread."
The weight of that possibility settled between them. Erin looked at the rows of empty seats, imagining them filled with the kids she'd seen outside—young people who used this space as refuge.
"The attacks are becoming more dangerous," she said quietly.
They finished documenting the scene as the sun finished setting outside, and by the time they walked out onto Grove Street, the emergency vehicles were packing up and the crowd of displaced theater kids had mostly dispersed.
"I'll get the timing device to the forensics lab tonight and see if they can rush the results," Lena said, loading the evidence bags into her car. "DNA results on the cap should be back by tomorrow afternoon, fingers crossed."
"I'll have my combustion analysis ready by morning," Erin replied, surprised by how natural the coordination felt, like they'd been working together for years instead of days.
Lena paused beside her car door, looking back at Erin as twilight surrounded them. "This morning, at your apartment..."
"I know," Erin said softly. "We should talk."
"We should." Lena's voice was rough. "But not here."