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Page 20 of Arsonist’s Match (Blaze and Badge #1)

Three days later

E ven though Athena and Flash had been seeing each other for two months now, she hadn’t returned to Firehouse Eight since the day of the pizza bomb.

Memories raced through her mind as Captain O’Riley escorted her to Chief Raymond Burks’ office—the horrific crime scene, the sick odor of burnt flesh, Flash spinning out with remorse.

It weighed on her chest like an anchor until they strolled through the breakroom, where Athena remembered her first kiss with Flash.

Fond delight overcame the oppressive pain as she recalled catching the distraught firefighter’s cheeks between her palms and pressing their lips together.

Even though it was meant to shock Flash out of her downward spiral, the kiss had ignited feelings Athena had denied since the day they met.

She must have appeared distracted, because Captain O’Riley said, “Firefighter Cash and her crew are away, putting out a grass fire at a nearby park. She’s been asking for a lot of extra shifts lately,” he commented.

“I think she’s trying not to leave time to think about,” Athena supplied, pausing before adding, “you know—what happened.”

The rugged man with a ruddy Irish complexion grimaced. “She promised she’d go talk to the chaplain. It’s been hard for everyone.”

“I’d be very surprised if it wasn’t,” Athena confessed.

O’Riley opened the office door and showed her in. “Assistant Special Agent in Charge Bouvier, meet Chief Raymond Burks, Fire Marshal Austin Zapata, and Fire Investigator Bonnie Ballard.”

“Honored to meet you,” the chief said to Athena as he stood, showing off an imposing stature in his crisply starched white uniform that contrasted with his fuzzy black hair, clay-toned skin, and mahogany eyes. He motioned toward an empty chair, which O’Riley promptly pulled out for her.

Athena smoothed her navy skirt and slid gracefully into the offered seat. “I’m so glad you all made the effort, rearranging your schedules, to attend this meeting. I felt we could all benefit from each other’s expertise.”

“When Captain O’Riley turned in the report on the Synergy Warehouse Collective fire, with the addendum citing findings pointing toward arson, I assigned Bonnie—Investigator Ballard—to look into it.

” The fire marshal, a tan man about the chief’s age, although perhaps six inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter, wore his silver-tipped black hair in a military cut, clipped short in the back and over his ears.

Athena recalled meeting him several years ago when the FBI had assisted in another arson investigation.

Zapata turned to a white woman, closer to Flash’s age than Athena’s, with lieutenant bugles on her collar.

She cleared her throat and pushed back a strand of light-brown hair, revealing an earnest, freckled face.

“We determined this recent fire shared many characteristics with the peanut butter cannery incident two months ago, leading us to believe the same arsonist is responsible for both,” she reported in a decidedly East Texas drawl, far more pronounced than either her or Flash’s accents.

“What I’m not certain about is where the FBI fits in. ”

“That’s why we’re here,” Chief Burks replied in a patient voice. “And, soon enough, you’ll see why we’re meeting here instead of over at Fire Marshal Zapata’s office. Agent Bouvier, I’ll turn this over to you for the time being.”

Athena squared her shoulders, adopting her official, glacial posture, and opened in an authoritative tone.

“When I was made aware of two business arsons in Houston in as many months, using the identical unique signature, my office searched our national database, resulting in some concerning results. While many u nsolved arson cases utilized BBQ lighter fluid as an accelerant, only two others included the added component of a sparkler being recovered at the point of origin.”

The men and Lieutenant Ballard focused their full attention on Athena as she opened a folder and passed out copies of the reports.

Athena was used to working with law enforcement leaders and felt at ease with the chief, the marshal, and the captain.

She’d gotten to know O’Riley somewhat over the summer.

Flash only had marvelous things to say about him; she had to assume the young fire inspector was as capable as the rest of the task force.

“On July 17 th , Knight’s Construction Company in Little Rock, Arkansas, suffered a devastating fire.

The company’s office was reduced to cinders, and several of the construction vehicles in the parking lot were rendered total losses.

The Little Rock Fire Marshal’s office determined the blaze had been deliberately set, stating in their report that BBQ lighter fluid had been used on a pile of rags, the walls, and furniture, and a sparkler was used to ignite them. A suspect has yet to be apprehended.”

With a glance around the table, Athena noticed every eye glued to the papers she’d distributed.

She continued, “Then, on August 8 th , Shreveport Steel Solutions was ravaged by fire, and this time there was a casualty. The office again served as the point of origin, the same was signature used, with another point of origin in the warehouse, resulting in a blaze of similar magnitude to the Synergy Warehouse. The Shreveport Police Department worked in conjunction with the fire marshal in the investigation, which is ongoing. Witnesses say that human resources officer Beth Knowles had left for the day. Her car wasn’t in the parking lot, and, when the manager made his last sweep, she wasn’t in her office, and nobody remained in the building.

Yet, DNA and dental records identified her badly burned body in the office where the fire started.

Law enforcement can only speculate at this point that the perpetrator either met with her in the office after hours or brought her there against her will.

Shreveport Police has started to look at this fire as a cover-up for a homicide, only that theory doesn’t fit the rest of the pattern.

Regardless of whether the victim happened to have returned to the office or if she was a target, the arsonist we’re seeking is also responsible for a homicide, which ups the stakes.

It seems our firebug doesn’t care if a human being is killed in the commission of his or her crimes, making it all the more imperative we catch him before he strikes again. ”

“So, it is a federal investigation now,” Chief Burks deduced.

“No, sir,” Athena corrected. “This is still your case, but, because the unsub has crossed state lines, the FBI is here to help by coordinating a joint task force. Your people are the experts at investigating arson; ours specialize in tracking down and arresting criminals. All our interests can be best served by working together.”

“I concur,” said Fire Marshal Zapata. “O’Riley, something’s been stuck in my craw since I received the report on the Synergy Warehouse fire.

Why did you tack on the addendum? Why didn’t Lieutenant Edwards include that evidence himself?

After all, he wrote the report. How did you even know about the lighter fluid and sparkler? ”

O’Riley let out a deep sigh and sank back in his seat.

“He’s new to Firehouse Eight, and I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

A firefighter whose eye, nose, and instincts I trust brought the evidence to my attention privately.

I took a ride back over to the warehouse and gave it a closer look.

The implications of arson were so blatant, I couldn’t fathom his reason for ignoring it.

I thought it was better to have your inspectors collect the items, run your tests, and make the determination before reprimanding Edwards. ”

“Do you think he’s involved?” inquired Chief Burks.

“Not anymore,” O’Riley said. “He was here, not in Shreveport, on July 17 th . But, for a minute …”

“It’s possible Edwards is covering for someone,” suggested Zapata. “If he knows who did this, we’ve got to get the information out of him right now. Call him in here. Agent Bouvier, is that alright with you?”

Athena had been wondering the same. Acting like a jerk toward Flash was one thing, but blatantly disregarding such obvious signs of arson bordered on a crime. “I have a few questions for him myself.”

Captain O’Riley rose from the table. “Excuse me. I’ll see if he’s back.”

The team member Athena felt most at ease with—her peer in age—exited the room, leaving the rest of them in awkward silence.

It only took a minute for Burks and Zapata to dive into small talk about the fall outlook in sports.

Bonnie glanced over, her eyes asking if Athena wanted to chat.

She didn’t. Small talk was not her forte, even with people she’d known for years.

“So, you’re an Assistant Special Agent in Charge,” the young woman ventured.

Athena held in a groan. “That’s right.” A simple, direct response was the way to go.

“And the task force was your idea?”

“I have no more pressing cases at the moment, so, yes. Why not stop this felon before he kills anyone else?”

“Indeed,” she agreed. “I’d like to be the fire marshal or even chief of the entire fire department one day. Any pointers?”

It wasn’t unusual for women Athena met to ask about the secret of her success, what it took to rise to so high a position in a male-dominated career field.

What was she to say? Sacrifice your entire personal life and dedicate yourself solely to the job?

She couldn’t in all honesty say it had been worth it—not for her anyway.

Then again, if she had spent more time looking for love, she might have ended up with a mediocre partner or spouse and missed out on the most wonderful treasure ever.

Curiously, it was something Flash had never asked.

“Be the best at what you do, and try not to make enemies,” was the best she could offer. Once again, short and to the point.