Page 68 of Heat Advisory

Nancy shuffled toward the kitchen, plating food and pouring drinks like she was hosting a dinner party for royalty instead of two tired sisters. I changed into something more comfortable while Iris ran back to her apartment to do the same and say hello to Hector before returning.

By the time we settled around the table, Nancy had already demolished three spicy wings and was diving into casual conversation.

She filled us in on her kids and grandkids, complete with dramatic commentary about which ones were making questionable life choices.

“Now, on to the steamy firefighter,” Nancy said. “Give me all the details.”

I choked slightly on my drink at her abrupt topic change, though I should have known better, since she did that often.

She waved her sauce-covered fingers in the air. “I need a photo. Actually, several photos.”

I pulled up the photos of Jay and me from the wedding and held up my phone as I swiped through them.

She fanned her face. “Oooh, he’s a stallion. Usually I like ’em a little bigger like Hector, but this man is definitely fantasy worthy.”

I nearly choked on my drink again. “Umm…” That was all I could say. Nancy had no filter, and sometimes there simply wasn’t a response.

“News flash, dear…Being eighty doesn’t make me blind,” Nancy asserted. “I know what I like, and I like my men thick and juicy.”

“Are you talking about a man or a steak?” Iris asked.

Nancy paused thoughtfully, licking hot sauce off her fingers.

“Both,” she declared and then cackled, which sent Iris and me into laughter right along with her.

21

“Heat makes people weird. At least that’s the excuse I’m telling myself.”

—It’s science

Jay

A week later, we finally got the first big break in the case we’d had. Whoever had set the fires had slipped up.

It was another hot inferno of a day, despite it only being noon. Trent and I were out at the scene of one of the most recent fires with the BAER team and our supervisors to see what the suspect—or suspects—had left behind.

A few days ago, Thompson had informed us that the scope of the fires meant there might be more than one arsonist working together. Some of these fires had spread so quickly that it would have made it near impossible to safely leave the scene of the crime, unless another person was there to assist in some way.

It was pure speculation at this point, but it certainly made us think about a few other scenarios.

Our new evidence—tire tracks—had been the key to linking a lot of the fires together. Tire tracks from four of the fires had matched perfectly. While we had suspected these were all done by the same person, now we had proof.

The tracks cut across the soil in two clean and deliberate lines. They were deep and seemed almost…confident. Like whoever had driven here hadn’t been worried about getting stuck—or caught.

Tracks from a vehicle—or even shoe prints—didn’t always survive a fire intact, but we’d been lucky with several of these fires that the soil had been very compacted, so the impressions remained even after the vegetation nearby had burned away.

Based on the evidence we had, these tracks were likely left by a large truck, and a heavy one, either because it was large or because it was hauling a bunch of equipment.

The spacing between the tires was wide—wider than most midsize pickups. It leaned more toward a utility truck or a government vehicle.

I found myself scrolling through the trucks I knew. Not because I thought I knew the criminal, but to try to think of a good comparison.

“I don’t know why these people think this is such a smoking gun,” Trent mumbled to me as we walked back to our vehicles after listening to one of the fire inspectors detail the tracks. “Do you know how many people own trucks around here? Hell, half our station drives trucks.”

I knew what he was talking about, but police used tire tracks all the time for their investigations, and it usually helped, so I wasn’t as pessimistic as he was.

“Yes, they do, but it’s not just the type of vehicle that matters, Tannin,” Thompson said as he came up beside us, his tone sharp.