“Duly noted,” Athena replied, shifting her gaze to Ice, who squirmed uncomfortably.
Glancing at the ceiling, he twirled his fingers together two inches off the table. “I got nothing.” Snapping his attention to her, he added, “I mean, I’ve been trying to dig up more suspects. And Hernandez and I followed Rusk and De León but couldn’t catch them doing anything wrong.”
“Were you on them Thursday night?” she asked urgently.
“Yeah,” Hernandez answered sheepishly. “I tailed Rusk and Ice staked out De León. But when their lights went out around eleven, we both figured they were in for the night and called it.”
Athena smirked in dissatisfaction, this time giving in to an eye roll. “So we don’t know if one of them left later to go set that factory fire?”
The two brawny men shook their heads.
“Five primary suspects who fit the profile, no witnesses or evidence putting any of them at a crime scene, therefore not enough for any search warrants,” Athena pondered aloud. “Fire Investigator Ballard said they found some suspicious materials at the Lone Star fire, sent them to the lab. She promised to let me do a walk-around tomorrow. Paulson, I want a team of our lab guys out there to collect fingerprints, DNA, or anything else they can pull off a surface. I know it’s a long shot, but this scene is fresh, making it ourbestshot. Keep working the arson for hire angle, too. Don’t these businesses have anything in common?”
The agents flicked blank glances at one another for a moment.
“None are owned by the same individual or company,” reported Paulson.
“None of our suspects are connected to all five,” Howard voiced.
Campbell said, “They represent different industries altogether.”
“They don’t have the same insurance company,” Ice added.
“Three are in Houston,” Hernandez pointed out, “but what’s with Little Rock and Shreveport? If not for the signature, we’d never lump those two in with the local fires.”
Then Shoops raised a finger. “They all hire blue-collar workers.”
“True,” Paulson considered. “But, like Howard said, the employees don’t overlap.”
“No, they don’t,” Athena said, inspiration lighting her face. “But that doesn’t mean the same person wasn’t turned down at all of them. We’ve been asking who got the job. Maybe we should ask who didn’t. What do you do with rejected job applications?”
Paulson met her gaze. “Throw them out.”
“There wouldn’t be any records of applicants turned away,” Howard deduced. “So, how do we find them, and is it relevant?”
“It is if the arsonist’s motive is revenge.” Athena let the idea settle for a beat. “OK, get to it!”
Chapter 23
He hunkeredin his basement-level room—his safe place, cut off from the world. Dark. Dank. Familiar. Like where he’d been banished to as a kid, just to get him out of the way. But the cave-like room had given him a space of his own in which to think. To plan. To burn.
“Can’t believe it. The feds, breathin’ down my neck.” He paced, yanking his hair in frustration.
They’ve got nothin’ on you,answered a voice in his head. Relax. Just fishin’.
Was it his fault that his mother was a drunk and the man of the house used him as a punching bag when he was a boy? That must have been why he struggled to get ahead. He wasn’t dumb—that much he knew. But his parents didn’t care. The last time he got smacked, he’d struck back. Standing up for himself had made him feel powerful. In control. And it had felt good. Naturally, he’d been kicked out of the house and forced to manage alone.
Alone—wasn’t that the truth! Friends were merely people who wanted something from you. Maybe they’d give you a nickel, expecting a dime in return, but the lot of them were nothing but fair-weather companions. Let it rain, and they scattered like roaches.
Locked in that basement as a child, he’d found comfort in fire. The way flames danced. The way they ate. His anger, his resentment, his powerlessness—he fed all of it to the fire. Paper, leaves, whatever would burn. It might’ve bit him once or twice, but fire never left him. He knew how to give it life, to help it grow, or keep it contained. He could count on combustion to behave as he expected it to—no sudden shift from kind to cruel, no lies, no leaving him. Fire was reliable, always there when he needed it to calm or soothe, rage or reap revenge. It was his only friend.
Pay attention! Why can’t you do anything right?The spiteful words he’d heard all his life roared in his ears.Failure. Screwup. Get outta here, freak!
He slapped his hands over his ears and crumpled into a chair at his tiny table. A half-eaten bowl of tepid canned ravioli sat there, mocking him.
“I am not!” he thundered back. “I showed you—I showed you all!”
Yes, you did. And they won’t catch you. You must stay cool. Behave. Act innocent. Don’t let them see.
