Page 12 of Forged By Fire (Danger in Destiny #9)
Chapter Twelve
W hen Chief Menendez mentioned they might have a possible suspect, Leslie stared at her boss in disbelief. “Another firefighter? How’s that possible? Even if he was considered unfit for duty, how could targeting other firefighters possibly accomplish anything?”
Clint completely understood her reluctance to believe something like that could happen.
But he’d seen it himself in the police department two years ago when one of their officers had been working with a local drug cartel.
They hadn’t seen it coming, and it’d nearly led to the death of another officer.
The betrayal had been real and extremely difficult for the whole precinct to grasp.
Chief Menendez looked equally displeased about the possibility.
He pulled another file out and slid it across the desk.
“Domingo Ortiz. There had been some question about his mental fitness after his psychological evaluation, but nothing that could be pinpointed. He passed that and then made it through the fire academy by the skin of his teeth. However, he was caught stealing from the station. Mostly food that he swore were leftovers and that he was giving to a family member who didn’t have enough to eat. ”
While certainly not ideal, there had to be a better way of making sure his family ate—that didn’t seem like enough grounds to let Ortiz go. “I take it he started to diversify his acquisitions.”
“You could say that. Office supplies began to go missing, then small electronics. A fellow firefighter’s smartwatch, a video game cartridge for the station’s gaming system, things like that.
He was finally caught when, during his shift, he was handing off a set of turnout gear to a friend in the parking lot.
” Menendez lifted an eyebrow. “Needless to say, that was the end of that. He was re-evaluated by a psychologist and found to have issues with impulse control and was officially diagnosed with kleptomania.”
Leslie leaned toward Clint and scanned the open file on the desk in front of them. “I don’t remember ever meeting this man before. All of this was almost a year ago. Do we have any idea how long the set of gear had been missing?”
“It’s been at least a month. Beyond that, though, we don’t know.” Chief Menendez frowned, the lines at the corners of his mouth deepening. “The fact we didn’t even know the gear was missing is something that’ll be addressed in a separate internal investigation.”
There were so many factors at play here.
It sounded extremely likely that Ortiz was the one who took the gear.
Did he take it to keep for himself, or did he try to sell it to make some money?
Admittedly, Clint knew very little about kleptomania and made a mental note to speak to their station’s resident psychologist for more insight.
“We’re going to need to contact Ortiz and question him.” Clint tapped the file. “Is the address you show here still current?”
“It’s the last known address we had for him. But it’s certainly possible he’s moved on since then. I doubt very much he would have sent us a change of address card.”
“I’d like to speak to people who worked with him at Station Four. Is there a best way to go about that?”
Menendez tapped his cell phone. “I’ll give them a call and let them know to expect you.” He shifted his gaze to Leslie. “Chief Caradec is going to be feeling defensive enough about the gear being stolen. It might be helpful if another firefighter were there, too.”
“Understood, sir.”
“How are you doing, Granger? I heard about your house.”
Clint and Leslie had spoken about how much they should share with the chief.
Right now, they knew so little that Clint wasn’t too worried about it.
Besides, if she told her boss what was going on, it’d give more grounds for extra time off if that’s what was needed to keep her safe until they found the man responsible for everything.
She updated Menendez on the break-in and the flowers and picture. Then she quickly turned the topic to Bracken and her visit with him. “He seemed to be in good spirits, sir, although I can tell he’s in pain. Hopefully, that will diminish a lot over the next few days.”
“I hope so, too.” He focused on Clint. “I trust you’ll continue to keep me updated on the investigation.”
“I will. You may also hear from Detective John Paris. We don’t have enough details yet, and we don’t even know if Ortiz is involved in this.
However, there’s enough evidence to suggest firefighters in general may be the target, if not Bracken and Granger specifically.
I hope all your people are exercising caution moving forward. ”
“We are, and I appreciate your concern. If there’s anything I can do to aid the investigation, please let me know.”
They said goodbye to the fire chief and were on their way out of the station when someone called Leslie from across the room.
“Hey, Granger! Catch!”
The man launched something at her, and she easily snatched it out of the air. When she opened her hand, a package of plain M&Ms rested in her palm.
“Figured you could use it after yesterday. Be safe out there.”
“You know it. Thanks, Allen.”
The other firefighter saluted and returned to work.
“So you really are a chocolate addict, and everyone knows it.” Clint chuckled as he opened the door for her, then went around and got behind the wheel.
“Yep.” She tore the package open. “There are worse things I could be addicted to. Besides, there are health benefits to chocolate. Probably when consumed in smaller amounts than I eat, but still.” She laughed softly as she tilted the bag in his direction.
“Very true.” He shook a handful into his palm and tossed them into his mouth. “I don’t know about an addiction, but I can never go into a gas station and pass up those fried beef and bean burritos.”
Leslie’s nose wrinkled automatically, causing Clint to dish out an offended look.
She quickly swallowed the M&Ms she was chewing and held up a hand in repentance. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to judge. It just seems like they’re always at least a day or two old.”
“Hey, they’re delicious. And like I said, I only get them when I stop at a gas station. I don’t have fellow officers throwing burritos at me when I go into the precinct.”
She tilted her head back and laughed, her hazel eyes sparkling. “Touché.”
She looked happy. Carefree. Beautiful.
Right then, Clint wanted nothing more than to find the man responsible for shooting Bracken and breaking into Leslie’s house. He wanted her to feel safe again.
A section of hair fell down the right side of her face, and he had to make a point of not reaching over to brush it aside.
As if she somehow knew what he was thinking, she hooked a finger and swept the hair behind her ear before popping several blue M&Ms into her mouth. “So, what’s next?”
“I think we should head over and talk to Chief Caradec. Maybe talk to a few of the firefighters who worked with Ortiz and see what they thought about the guy. Before we do that, though, I’m going to update Detective Paris.
I’m hoping he’ll reach out to a psychologist we work with, Dr. Gerard, and see what information he can give us about kleptomania and what we might expect if Ortiz is our suspect. ”
“That sounds like a good plan.” She settled back into her seat and ate a few more M&Ms while he made that call.
Paris said he’d contact Dr. Gerard and get back to them once they’d been able to speak. When Clint ended the call, Leslie tucked the package into one of the side pockets in the small backpack she’d brought along with her. “What happens if we don’t figure out who’s behind this?”
“Then we keep looking for clues. Waiting for him to mess up.” He glanced over at her to find her nibbling on her lower lip. “We’re going to find him, Leslie.”
“What if it takes a while? What happens when Danny is discharged from the hospital? Will an officer continue to keep an eye on his house and family?”
“We’re not going to let anything happen to them.” Her unspoken question seemed to echo in the space between them. “And I’m not going to let anything happen to you, either.”