Page 26

TWENTY-SIX

T he nurse helped slip the sling over Julio’s head, securing his arm to his front. Pretty soon the pain meds they’d given him while they reset his dislocated shoulder would wear off. Until then, he could move slowly if he focused. Who knew how he’d feel when the truth of the pain he was in came to light.

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing, hon.” She gathered up her things. “I’ll get your paperwork, and you can get out of here.”

He was going to head right to Samantha’s room as soon as he could. Through the glass of the door and the wall around it, he could see across the hall. The emergency department of the hospital in Benson had all glass-fronted rooms, so staff could see in if they needed to.

It meant he saw the fire chief, Greyson Frayer, step into view and speak with a different nurse than the one he’d been treated by.

Inevitably, Julio’s thoughts slipped back to Samantha and the conversation they’d had. Not so much an end-of-life confessional, but pretty close to it. Each knew how the other felt. He’d stated his case as much as he could. Put all his cards on the table.

Taking her to his house—the place that was supposed to have been theirs—would either seal the deal or put an end to the whole thing. Which was probably why he hadn’t invited her over yet. Though, he was pretty sure he would soon enough.

As soon as they’d been pulled from the burning wreckage of the firehouse, they’d been separated. Put on different ambulances. Treated and rushed to the hospital. He wanted to get on his knees and thank God no one else had been inside the building when it blew.

Though, he needed to figure out the implications of other possible scenarios.

Julio had no idea where his phone ended up. Samantha’s had been shattered, but she’d used it for a flashlight. Even after her sister had replaced the screen after it was smashed when she was nearly strangled to death by Walter Barnes. He needed to message his parents and let them know he was all right, assuming they’d heard something happened to him. The need to connect was probably a result of nearly dying, realizing the frailty of his own mortality.

Live or die, he wanted it to be together with Samantha. He didn’t want to think what would have happened if he’d lost her. Which he very well could have. Or she could have lost him.

They could’ve both died today.

Greyson knocked on the door, dressed in his chief uniform, minus whatever jacket he’d been wearing at the scene. Though his face and hands looked clean, ash had smudged his shirt front between two buttons, and his neck and hair were slick with a layer of grime.

Julio lifted his chin, and the chief came in. “Hey.”

“Feeling okay?” Greyson looked him over.

“Better than I might’ve been if we’d been anywhere else.” Another thing to ponder.

“Good. Ready for a rundown?”

Julio nodded.

“Two explosive devices at either end of the firehouse, so he was going for maximum destruction. One of them malfunctioned somehow. The resulting explosion wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Wallace from your team is going through it. That was his initial assessment.”

“Good. I trust Wallace.” His colleague on the bomb squad was an officer in Benson PD and a former explosives expert in the army. “I wanna get in there. Take a look at the scene.”

“I figured you probably would. But not before tomorrow. The whole place needs to be secure and cleaned up, and everything needs time to cool.”

Julio pressed his lips together.

“You’re okay. So is Detective Jesse,” Greyson said. “I saw her on my way over. She’s two rooms down with another woman and Detective Alvarez. They were talking.”

“Thanks.” Julio ran his available hand over his face. “Explosives?”

“It’s a deviation,” Greyson said. “All these fires, and elaborate scenes where he’s blocking HVAC and trapping people. Now this?” He sighed out all the weight of being a chief that he carried every day, made worse by the fact they still didn’t have a suspect.

“What about the school? Was that typical?” Julio turned so his feet hung off the side of the bed. He needed clean clothes—and shoes.

“Actually no. More like smoke bombs, according to your guy.”

“Samantha said the kids were hiding in closets, like a lockdown drill.”

Greyson nodded. “Vents were stopped up, so the smoke had nowhere to go. Heat cranked up, so it felt like there was a fire blazing somewhere in there. But no actual flames. Though, at the rate everything was going, something would’ve caught eventually. Electrical. Mechanical. There would’ve been a blaze, albeit pretty small at first.”

Things always escalated if left alone. Everyone in the department knew to check and double-check elements of a scene to make sure all potential flares were taken care of. Anything ignored had the ability to come back to life in a second on its own.

Fire was like nothing else. It had a life of its own.

It acted. It reacted. It found a path and consumed fuel reaching for more. Like it was alive…and hungry.

“Did Wallace take a look?”

“He left the school after the firehouse blew,” Greyson said. “I’m sure he’s planning to go back when he’s done.”

Julio didn’t envy the guy how many hours of overtime he would put in over the next couple of days. “He should forward everything to the taskforce admin so we can get the reports. Start putting them up against the profile the FBI has come up with. See if we can get a suspect list going.”

“That’s part of why I came.” After a second pause, Greyson continued, “He hit us good. That school scene created chaos. Everyone was there. No one left in the house. Until you and Samantha went there.”

“What are you saying?” Julio had his own ideas, but he needed someone else to state them aloud so he’d know he wasn’t reaching.

“He lashed out at us. Created a scenario where he’d get maximum damage but little loss of life. None, in fact. But my guess is, he wouldn’t have minded if you and Detective Jesse had been killed.”

Julio nodded. “He tried to kill us on purpose.”

“Maybe. Depending on when he stashed the explosives. They could’ve been waiting there for any amount of time, and he hits a button, or makes a call, and they go off right when he wants.” Greyson folded his arms across his chest. “But he also crippled the fire department. He took out our house.”

“Now, we’ll be scrambling to house personnel and trucks until it’s rebuilt.”

“He knows us,” Greyson said. “He knows the firehouse we moved from, the relic over on Marsten Street is a museum now. Too far to operate out of. We need to start praying now that no one gets killed because we took too long to respond. Because for the next few months , response times are gonna be longer than anyone likes.”

“The implications might be something our arsonist isn’t even aware of. Maybe this was purely personal, and he’ll realize later he’s put even more lives in jeopardy.” Julio scratched his jaw, feeling the tension in his shoulder as he moved. Not good. He was going to be in pain for a while. But he and Samantha were alive.

The chief studied him. “What are you thinking?”

“This guy is nothing like your average pyromaniac. He might even not have that psychosis.”

“But he likes to set fires.”

“Seems to me like it’s far more strategic than that.” Julio thought for a moment. “He retraces Sylvana’s history, killing people connected to his case. Now, he’s evolved beyond that, and he’s messing with our attempts to stop him.”

But he didn’t know where the attack on Samantha came into it.

“Explosives? That’s a different tactic.” Julio paused. “This guy has a plan.”

“Any idea what it is?” Greyson asked.

“No, but I get the feeling this is nowhere near over.”

Targeting him and Samantha might be a deviation, but it also might not. Julio had a feeling they were connected to it. Whether they liked it or not.

But it didn’t matter. They were on the taskforce, which meant neither of them would rest until they had this guy in cuffs—or he was dead.

Then again, what if this was happening to them because they were on the taskforce?

It certainly felt personal. But no one else had been targeted, just them.

So what was it about him and Samantha that had set this guy off?

The door to his room opened again, and Captain Tennet stepped in.

Julio said, “Dominic.” The guy might be over the taskforce, but they were the same rank.

Tennet nodded. To Greyson he said, “Chief.”

“Captain.” Greyson nodded back. “What have you got for us?”

The difference between the two men caught Julio’s attention. The stark contrast between the two uniformed, clean-shaven men.

Greyson had been at the scene, getting dirty with the firefighters. Doing his job in a way that would always be hands on—not just because he’d been a firefighter on truck. Until Greyson had been caught in a deadly fire and burned in ways that confined him to desk duty.

Dominic Tennet had worked out of the office his entire career. He pushed paperwork, learned from books and conferences, and rarely got his hands dirty. But to his credit, Tennet had a keen mind for figuring out arson cases.

“Anything new?” Julio asked, determined to keep the peace until this guy was caught. They might have different ideas of what worked as far as tactics for flushing the guy out, but considering Julio had almost died today, and nearly lost Samantha, he was willing to seek out all the advice he could get.

“I’m afraid I need to confess something.” Tennet cleared his throat, all his attention on Julio.

Greyson looked at Julio, then at the other captain.

“What’s that?” Julio asked.

“I haven’t been entirely forthcoming about what I know.” Tennet frowned, his dark brows drawing together. Silver threaded through the dark hair on his temples. “I believe I might know who our arsonist is.”

Julio flinched. “You do?” Keeping that knowledge to himself could’ve cost lives.

“I’ve researched a lot of arsonists in my career, attending classes on their development. Even teaching a few myself.” The other captain seemed so proud of himself.

Julio would rather be wearing turnout gear, a tank and mask, heading into a burning building. But he had to admit, he could see the appeal of learning and sharing knowledge. A different way of saving lives.

Tennet continued, “When Richard Sylvana’s name came up in my research, I went to see him. More than once, actually. To try and figure out what encouraged him to do what he did.”

“And you think you know who was interested enough to want to follow in his footsteps?”

Tennet nodded.

Greyson just stood stoic, his arms still folded. Absorbing the information before he figured out what to do with it.

“He told me that at one of the fires, he met a child,” Tennet replied. “In fact, it was the last fire where he was arrested. As he was setting the devices, he found a little boy hiding in the laundry room. He told the child to run back to his room, and never thought of him again. He said the little boy told him that his name was Custard.”

Julio frowned. “That’s got to be a nickname.”

Greyson nodded. “Have you ever found him?”

“I did some research into the fire, but never could figure out who the child was.”

Julio said, “What makes you believe he’s our arsonist now?”

Tennet shifted his stance, and as he did Julio spied a cross necklace under his shirt. He hadn’t realized this guy was religious, but in a case like this one, it could be an asset.

And his knowledge of Sylvana could be key to unlocking the entire case. So long as Tennet didn’t jump the gun with a press conference as he had before.

“Just a hunch,” Tennet said. “Seems like whoever is working now is connected to Sylvana, the original one, and it could very well be someone like this child. Richard actually told me the boy visited him. Years later. He’d turned into a fan.”

Greyson unfolded his arms. “We need to figure out who this kid is and see if he fits the profile.”

Julio nodded. “Before it’s too late.”