Melting Point. Debra Cowan

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      Kiley adjusted the too-large helmet on her head. “I’ll check on the warehouse’s insurance policy, anyway, just to cover our bases.”

      As they worked their way to the worst burn area, the fire’s origin, Collier documented every step with photos and sketches.

      On the east side of the interior, Terra halted in front of him and sniffed the air. “I don’t smell any accelerant. No gasoline, no kerosene, nothing.”

      Collier couldn’t smell any, either. Scenting accelerants was a natural ability Terra had that he didn’t, but she had said that didn’t matter. What would make him a good fire investigator wasn’t what he could smell, but what he observed.

      Scanning the coffee pallet and metal wall directly in front of him for the “low point” or point of origin, his gaze settled on a blackened circle on the concrete.

      Both women walked up beside him. Collier kept his focus on the spot in front of him, concentrating on determining if this fire was arson. Why would a fire start here? There was no heat source, so he could eliminate that the blaze had been accidental. He pointed to a small mound of charred material in the middle of the blackened circle. “This pile of rags is the point of origin. Looks like it may be towels.”

      “Let’s take a look at burn patterns on the pallets and coffee bags that burned, the leftover debris here and on the floor, ground, ceiling,” Terra said.

      After carefully bagging a fist-size amount of the remaining cloth, he used a small sterile paint can to hold a sample of the charred wooden pallet. Terra took photos of the places where the samples had come from, while Collier indicated the same on the drawing of the fire-sketch layout he’d started for the warehouse.

      To be thorough, he also sealed a handful of coffee beans, but he didn’t expect to find that they had absorbed any accelerant. He studied the charred pallet and a ten-inch stretch of black going up the metal wall beside it. He ran a quick test with the portable “sniffer,” a small boxlike instrument that detected carbons like those usually left behind in gasoline or flammable liquids.

      Glancing up at Terra, he was aware of Kiley in his peripheral vision. “The readout is negative for any kind of gas or flammable liquids. Right now it looks like the fire started with a match and a bundle of towels.”

      “I don’t think the arsonist tried to hide it, either,” his new boss said. “Probably lit this bunch of cloth then waited for the fire alarm to trip.”

      “They had probably already scoped out their position across the street.” Kiley glanced toward the front of the building. “And the fire was set close enough to the door for a quick exit.”

      “Another sign of arson.” Collier’s stomach tightened at the cold calculation indicated by the scenario they were starting to piece together. Calculation that could’ve killed him this time.

      Between that and the redhead behind him, his nerves were stretched taut. He shut the tackle box and rose. “From the obvious placement of the towels, I don’t think the arsonist cares if we figure out how the fire started. The hardest blazes to determine are the ones with a single match and a little thought.”

      “All the fires have basically been set in the same way and a rifle used in all four of them.” Terra braced a hand at the small of her back.

      “The first fire at the high school gym and this one tonight were started before the shootings,” Kiley observed. “But the fires at the motel and in the victim’s garage were set after the victims were killed. Just to get the firefighters to respond?”

      “I’d say yes.”

      “Lisa Embry and now Lazano give us two vics from the same station. Miller was with Station Three and Huffman with Four.”

      “Going through the first three victims’ shifts at their respective station houses gave us the calls they had in common.” Collier put a new roll of film into his camera. “We’ll check to see if Lazano’s work schedule coincides with theirs.”

      “All the murders have occurred within the first week of the month so we should cross-reference those dates with the rescue call dates.” Kiley flipped a page in her notebook. “We still haven’t found anything in the first victim’s background to suggest someone would want to kill him. As for the second victim, we haven’t found the blond woman witnesses say Rex Huffman was last seen with at that motel.”

      “What about Lisa Embry’s ex?” The third victim and her husband had gone through a nasty divorce and custody battle. He had ended up with the house and joint custody of the kids.

      Kiley’s jaw firmed. “We should talk to him again, ask him where he was tonight.”

      Terra picked up the thread. “Kiley and I will continue to work our way down the list of people who have died in fires within the last six months to a year. Or fatalities that occurred when any of these murdered firefighters were on the scene. The killer could be someone who blames the firefighters for the death of a loved one.”

      “In the meantime, these guys are a bull’s-eye every time they respond to a call.” Collier couldn’t keep the rage out of his voice. “Just like Russian roulette.”

      And he could’ve been one of the victims tonight. The cold knot coiling in his gut was more than nerves. It was a sobering sense of mortality that he hadn’t felt in a lot of years.

      “We’ll find this murdering scumbag, Collier,” Terra reassured.

      Kiley nodded, watching him with a fierce determination in her eyes and an understanding that made him pause. She pulled her gaze away to stare at the remains of the pallet, wrinkling her nose. “I like coffee, but not that roasted.”

      Her remark served to ease the heaviness that had settled over them. Collier smiled and noticed Terra did, too.

      “So, how does it work?” Kiley asked. “The towels catch fire, it spreads to a pallet then the coffee bags?”

      “Yes,” he answered.

      “What about a security alarm? The first patrol officer on the scene said only the fire alarm went off. Why didn’t the security alarm sound?”

      “Are we sure they have one?” Collier asked.

      “Good question.”

      “I imagine they do,” he said, “but we need to make sure. The windows that were shattered were blown outward from heat, not inward as if smashed by someone trying to break in.”

      Admiration flared in her eyes. “You’ve picked up a lot, seeing as how you’ve only been able to work with the fire investigator on your days off.”

      “After a year and a half,” Terra said, “those days add up. I’m lucky that he wanted the job badly enough to do it.”

      “And come Monday, I’ll even get paid for it.” Collier rolled his shoulders against the tautness stretching across his muscles. Russell had a way of looking at him that made him feel as if she were peeling off thin layers of himself that he didn’t want peeled.

      He turned away, training his flashlight on the wall of melted aluminum sheeting. He took out his screwdriver and folded back a piece of the warped metal, checking СКАЧАТЬ