Page 37 of Arsonist’s Match (Blaze and Badge #1)
The next day
“ O K, this is how it goes down,” Athena instructed as the team huddled around her in the close quarters of a white van with a phony business name stuck on its side.
Paulson’s wheelchair was clamped in place at his mobile surveillance station while agents Ice and Hernandez crouched across the way.
Shoops and Flash pressed in so tight that Athena could hear them breathe.
“Howard and Campbell are in scruffy plainclothes to blend into the neighborhood, strolling the sidewalks in the area. Say hi, Sean.”
“Good afternoon, boss,” scratched through their earpieces.
“Hey, why didn’t I get to say hi?” griped Cedric’s voice, followed by an “oof,” which must have been Campbell elbowing him in the ribs.
“Keep sharp, you knuckleheads. We aren’t sure which suspect we’re looking for, but probably Rusk, Neel, or De León. Regardless, if anybody runs out of that building, grab them. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Campbell replied.
Returning her attention to her van companions, Athena said, “Paulson and Shoops will monitor from here. Keep eyes and ears on us and alert me to anything unusual. Hernandez, Ice—vests, guns, and body cams. Flash will conduct an exterior sweep, looking for incendiary devices or triggers. When she gives the all-clear, we’ll breach and spread out, search for evidence or signs our unsub was here. ”
“Bouvier?” Disapp ointment dragged down Shoops’ countenance, her shoulders slumping along with it. “You’re leaving me behind?”
Athena grabbed her arm, pinning her with an earnest stare.
She couldn’t shake the fear she’d experienced at the old Grove Hospital fire, almost losing her whole team—almost losing the eager junior agent.
“You’re our last line of defense. Paulson has the brains, but you have legs.
I need someone who can move fast to help him coordinate the operation from here.
It’s not an insult or overprotectiveness—it’s necessary. ”
Shoop’s chin firmed, and she nodded. “Got it. I’ll be ready to move fast if Agent Paulson or you tell me to.” Athena removed her hand, satisfied.
“Infrared?” she asked.
Paulson toggled through screens. “No heat. No voices. Just a mockingbird.”
Turning her attention to Flash, Athena instructed, “Gear up.”
There was no way for them to exit the van without looking conspicuous in black tacticals labeled FBI.
A minute later, Flash emerged in reflective khaki, axe in one hand, extinguisher in the other.
As Flash combed the shop’s exterior, hacking through overgrown shrubs and vines, Athena’s admiration swelled.
Tall, lean, powerful, courageous, and still tender-hearted and sweet.
A partner she could depend on. A woman she could love.
With Ice and Hernandez as brawny bookends, they slowly made their way across the weed-breached concrete drive toward the padlocked, boarded-over door.
One garage door appeared tight while the other hung in precarious aluminum strips, as if the next gust of wind would blow them into a heap.
Sooty streaks climbed toward a hole in the roof.
The stench of rubber was gone. The memory of fire clung.
“There’s nothing suspicious outside,” Flash reported as she rounded the building, her axe slung over her shoulder like a lanky lumberjack. God, she was beautiful!
“But I think I know where he got in and out,” she added.
“Where?” Athena knew he could have smashed the broken roll-up, but it faced the road. Someone might’ve seen.
“There’s a window around back. The glass is all broken out, the edges scraped, and it looks fresh compared to the other damage. I’m going first.”
Athena stiffened, jutting up her chin. “You’re a civilian.”
“I’m a firefighter. And, if there’s a trap, I’d know where to put it.”
“Which is why I should go first,” Ice declared. “Ex-Marine beats firefighter.”
Flash cocked her head at Ice, locked in a battle of wills. “There’s nobody in there to shoot at us. If there was, I’d gladly step aside and let you handle it. But there might be a firetrap. My suit beats your Kevlar.”
“Enough,” Athena interrupted, cutting them off. She let out a deep breath. Flash was far too stubborn, but, this time, she might be right. “Show us the window, Flash.”
They followed the firefighter around the building to a chest-high window three-by-three feet wide. Sure enough, glass shards littered the ground, and a crate had been positioned directly under the window.
“I climbed up and peeked inside,” Flash reported.
“The box is stable, and most of the glass—the big pieces—fell to the inside. If fire caused it, the glass would’ve blown outward.
Someone might have broken in to do drugs or strip copper pipes, but it also could have been your guy.
That’s for you to figure out. My part is getting in there to check for hazardous materials. ”
Athena met her gaze. “OK. Flash first, then Travis. Samuel, bring up the rear. Watch our backs.”
Anxiety knotted in Athena’s gut as she watched Flash crawl through the window into the dark, dank auto shop. Heavy equipment, ready to fall any second. Rats. Snakes. Spiders. Grease-slicked floors. Hornets. Toxic chemicals.
“Alright, Agent Ice,” Flash called. “There’s nothing in the immediate area, but fresh footprints all over the old ash and dust say someone was in here recently. You’ll want photos.”
Flash, if you hadn’t been a firefighter, you’d have made an excellent detective—always thinking ahead.
Athena nodded to Ice. “Take the pictures, then head on in. We’ll be right behind you.”
Ice climbed in, using his cell phone camera to record the footprints. Athena and Hernandez followed. By then, Flash had ventured across the garage bay floor. “I’m catching a faint whiff of accelerant, but it could just be old shop materials leaking from compromised cans. Also? Mice everywhere.”
Lovely, Athena groaned to herself. She wasn’t afraid of mice. It didn’t mean she’d enjoy them scurrying around her feet in the shadowy quarters of this burnt-out shell.
“Which means there are likely snakes somewhere as well,” Hernandez pointed out.
“I’ve got all four of you on my screen,” Paulson said into Athena’s earpiece. “So far, no other activity. The mice are too small, and snakes wouldn’t show up.”
“Thanks.” Athena, Ice, and Hernandez spread out to search the place.
It looked like any small repair shop—big hydraulic lifts, rows of toolboxes—except an enormous pile of melted rubber formed an eerie black mass where the tires should be.
Anything that could burn had, only now, branches and leaves were scattered over it, like kindling waiting to catch.
“Here’s something,” said Ice. Athena moved toward him. He lifted the lid of a steel trunk, revealing a stash of old shop rags. “The metal box preserved these.”
“Rags like the ones from Lone Star,” Athena murmured. She picked one up and sniffed. “He could have gotten them from here.”
Snap!
Athena jerked her chin around at the noise, every nerve on alert.
“My bad,” said Hernandez. “Stepped on a stick.” He held up a wrench. “Snap-on tools.”
“Oh, yeah, he was here,” Athena said. He’d left them at Lone Star. On purpose.
Her team had spent yesterday afternoon and this morning trying to tie this abandoned business to one of their suspects, only to come up empty. “Maybe he lives around here, passes by every day. This fire was ruled an accident … maybe ‘accidentally’ on purpose?”
“I found the door t o the office,” Flash called. “The other fires all started in the buildings’ offices, so you all stand back.”
Athena’s skin prickled with pins and needles as she watched Flash examine the door handle and peer through the glass, checking for a trap. She smashed the window with her axe, stuck her head in. “I don’t see a trip wire. There could be a more complicated mechanism, though. Just hang tight.”
A slow burn of memory lit Athena’s spine as she recalled minor explosions popping all around them in the old Grove Hospital, igniting hidden C4 and methane gas, engulfing her team in flames.
Martin Cruz had been killed in the initial blast. At the time, they’d believed he was just trapped on the other side of a collapsed wall.
She and Agent Daniels had burned themselves trying to dig him out—Daniels more severely than her.
Flash is here this time. Suited up. Ready.
“I don’t see a triggering mechanism,” Flash reported, “but that doesn’t mean it’s safe. I’m going to open this door and see what happens.”
Athena held her breath as Flash turned the handle. Slow. Careful. The door creaked. Nothing. Maybe this wasn’t a trap. Maybe Athena’s trauma over the summer had her jumping at shadows. The tension eased from her shoulders.
“Is it OK for us to come in and check it out?” There had to be something—prints, DNA, hair, anything.
“Hang on,” Flash barked with concern.
“Hey, Bouvier.” Suspicion clouded Ice’s voice. “There’s a camera up there on a post, and it looks new.”
“A camera?” Athena snapped her focus in the direction Ice pointed.
Boom!
The blast ripped through the silence—and it came from the office.
“FLASH!”