Chapter 17 #2
He turned on his heels and headed up the walkway.
The Dynamics Lab building was still cordoned off with bright-yellow caution tape, sooty black scorch marks stretching from more than half the second-floor windows upward toward the roof.
The front doors that Ryan had breached on the night of the fire had been boarded up and papered with nastygrams warning that the scene was being monitored by video and trespassers would be prosecuted.
They were going to bypass it, anyway—the broken glass alone made that entry point a shitshow—but they were here so Chloe could take everything in, so he purposely kept a slow pace as they moved past the doors.
She absorbed the scene with methodical care, her gaze skimming the entire street from left to right before landing back on him.
“I’m guessing those are the security cameras the arsonist bypassed,” she said, nodding up to the cameras mounted nearby.
Damn, she didn’t miss a thing. “I think that’s a safe bet,” he agreed.
“And you’re sure Nat said this was okay?” She sent a pointed glance over her shoulder to the plywood sheets and the fresh, shiny padlock on the main entryway doors, and Tyler let one corner of his mouth lift.
“Well, she gave me the code to get in so, yep. Pretty sure.” He led her to a side door with an electronic keypad mounted to the brick wall to its left but didn’t key in the access code just yet.
“That said, we can’t just Rambo our way inside.
There are a couple of safety precautions we’ll need to stick to. ”
“Okay,” Chloe said. “Shoot.”
“Aside from the obvious burn damage, we had to hit this place pretty hard with dry chemicals to put out the initial fire before Engine could extinguish the rest with the lines. Those should hold up okay”—he paused to look at the sturdy-looking black boots she’d paired with her jeans and dark gray sleeveless T-shirt—“but you’re definitely going to have to watch your step.
Same goes for touching anything. HazMat took all the chemicals out of here during cleanup, but as a general rule… ”
“Basically, don’t?” she asked, and he lifted his chin in agreement.
“Basically, don’t.” He handed her one of the N95 masks, looping the other into place over his nose and mouth.
“The masks are precautionary, but there’s enough ash and dry chemical residue in the building not to risk breathing it in.
” He tapped the security code into the keypad, tugging the door open when the lock gave way with a loud click.
“Just keep your mask in place and your eyes wide open and you’ll be fine. Good?”
“Good,” Chloe said, her N95 already snugly fitted over her face.
She followed him over the threshold and into the building.
Tyler moved down the wide hallway toward the lobby, clicking on his Maglite and letting Chloe take in the glass-walled offices on either side of them.
Aside from some pretty moderate smoke damage, most of them weren’t in horrible shape since the lab was on the opposite side of the building.
But that became less true with every step they took toward the lobby, their boots echoing on the grimy floor tiles when they reached the open, two-story space.
“Shit,” Chloe breathed, and even in the dim light filtering past the smoke-tinged windows, Tyler could see her eyes go wide.
Not that he blamed her. Between the thick coating of ash covering what was left of the front desk and the charred alcove that had once been the elevator bay behind it, the space was in way rougher shape.
Pointing to the scorched sections of drywall leading down from the ceiling vents, she asked, “Is that where the fire came down through the filtration system?”
Tyler nodded. “Yeah. The filtration system piggybacks the ventilation ducts used for heating and air conditioning, so once the fire started to burn, it traveled through both.”
Chloe shivered, and he doubted she’d caught a chill in the stale air. “Have you ever seen anything like that before?”
“I’ve seen hundreds of fires travel through ventilation systems,” he said, slowly.
“Fire needs oxygen and fuel to burn, and these ducts almost always lead to both.” The whole truth was tougher to swallow, but he didn’t hold it back.
“But to answer your question, no. Arson is actually pretty rare—I’ve only seen a handful of them in my career. But never one as calculated as this.”
Chloe took one more look around the lobby before following Tyler toward the stairwell. “So, the guy who did this really was determined not to leave anything behind.”
“In more ways than one. Come on, I’ll show you.”
He led the way up the stairs, making sure to tread with care and have Chloe follow closely in his path.
Even through his mask, Tyler could smell the punch of stale smoke mixed with the bitter smell of dry chemical residue that got stronger with every step toward the lab, and by the time they reached the second floor and got halfway down the hall, the fire damage was extensive.
“Holy shit, Tyler.” Chloe’s voice caught with emotion. “You and Ryan were in here while this was happening?”
“We’re well-trained,” he said, partly because it was true, but also so he wouldn’t have to give up a hard yes and make her worry about Ryan’s safety. “Plus, our gear is designed to protect us. We even have specialized mobility suits for HazMat calls.”
A thought flickered in his brain like a lightning strike, disappearing even more quickly than it had formed. But before he could chase it down or even identify the feeling that had accompanied it, he and Chloe reached the lab.
Or, what was left of it, anyway.
Tyler took a deep breath and led her past the first set of doors.
Although her eyes brimmed with a cocktail of emotions—shock, awe, and fear headlining the list—she didn’t shy away from taking anything in.
She moved through the lab in a slow circuit, following the beam of the Maglite in a three-sixty, then repeating the process on the other side of both sets of cleanroom doors.
Her breath hitched when they got to the twisted metal and heat-warped panels of the space where the DNA kits had been stored, but she squared her shoulders and didn’t hesitate to step in for a closer look.
After a few minutes that stretched on for what felt like a lot longer, she finally turned back toward him.
“Do you think there’s any way the DNA that was stored in these kits is still viable?”
For a second, Tyler said nothing. Something visceral inside of him snapped its teeth at the idea of causing her any more stress, but he overrode it. Chloe had asked for everything on the table, and she wasn’t some fragile flower. She trusted him.
He had to trust her, too.
“Is it possible? Yes, otherwise we wouldn’t be trying, and the kits are specifically engineered to withstand extreme temperatures.
But the truth is, whoever did this wants this DNA gone, and fire is one of the most effective methods to destroy physical evidence.
It’s why a high percentage of arsons are tied to people covering up crimes—it works. ”
Again, his brain flared with a thought, barely formed and yet, still insistent. But as soon as he tried to catch hold of it to examine it more fully, it slipped away, and he shook his head, coming back to the moment.
“But, to answer your question honestly, yes,” Tyler said, gentling his voice just a little to soften the blow he’d promised to deliver.
“There’s a very real chance Leo Navarro’s DNA won’t be viable, and the Intelligence Unit is going to have to find another way to connect him to either the murder or this arson if they want to take him down. ”
Chloe took a breath. Then another. Just when a cold trickle of worry started to move down his back—had he somehow fucked this up and scared her?—she nodded.
“Okay. That’s all I needed to know.” Taking a step toward him, she reached out to place her fingers on his forearm, her smile bittersweet as it moved through his chest. “Thanks for being straight with me. And for bringing me here so I could see all of this for myself. And for…well, trusting that I can handle it.”
Tyler was helpless against his smile. “Thanks for trusting me to help you.”
“You might not want to thank me just yet. We’re partners, remember?” Chloe asked, her determination returning as if it had a vendetta to fulfill. “We still have to give Esme an update.”
“Then let’s not waste any more time standing around.”
“Holy fuck, Si. You’re never gonna believe this!”
Leo’s voice carried through the entire dining room at La Vielle Maison as he strode over to the table where Simon sat working the books.
At nine thirty in the morning, the restaurant they co-owned (fifty-one forty-nine, naturally, so Simon could claim being a minority stakeholder if/when the authorities ever uncovered the place as a front) was thankfully still closed—not that a little thing like that was going to stop Leo from being noticed.
His affect alone was arrogant enough to be obnoxious, his smirk so well-worn, it might as well have been tattooed on his face.
Today’s suit, a navy-blue Brioni bespoke with a seven-thousand-dollar price tag, screamed his wealth.
His Van Cleef & Arpels diamond and onyx cufflinks and custom-made Italian dress shoes completed the package.
Leo was a man of privilege and power he’d never earned. Simon had never been so tempted to murder him.
Their restaurant manager, Perry, being neither deaf nor dead, turned in Leo’s direction from the spot where he stood behind the bar as Leo made his grand entrance, and Simon bit back the urge to cram his fist in Leo’s mouth—which was probably the only way, short of killing him, to get him to lower his damn voice.
“Leo,” he said quietly, fixing well-practiced innocence over his face as he looked up from the laptop he’d been working on. Time to act the part. “You look happy.”