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Okaaaay. “How?”
“This bag is loaded with campfire tinder, and I’d bet my bank account that if the lab tests it—and this warehouse—they’re going to find accelerant, too. This backpack didn’t belong to a squatter, Lucy.”
His expression grew as serious as she’d ever seen it, making her stomach drop to her knees.
“It belonged to an arsonist.”
* * *
Someone was in his warehouse.
Malachi scraped a breath past the anger bubbling up from inside him, his eyes on the warehouse from his spot in the scraggly underbrush about thirty yards away. He’d waited to come back here, not because he’d wanted to, but because he’d known it was smart. The fire marshal had needed to inspect the scene, a fact made more dangerous for Malachi since the warehouse hadn’t burned to the ground, as he’d intended. Still, enough damage had been done to obliterate any evidence that the fire had been purposely set, and he knew that neither the fire marshal nor the arson investigation unit would look too closely at a blaze that could be easily labeled accidental. Arson required definitive proof, which they didn’t have.
At least, theyhadn’t, until Malachi had seen not one, but three county-issued SUVs pull up in front of the warehouse he’d been about to break back into, then watched as two of the techs hurried inside with armloads of equipment, talking freely about a backpack full of campfire tinder that had been found beneath the rubble.
He’d ducked out of view, retreating to the spot where he’d hidden after he’d set the fire, but even now, ten minutes later, he still seethed with anger. He’d been so careful, leaving the backpack right by the window, where he’d known it would burn quickly, all evidence of his presence at the scene gone forever. How the hell had it survived for someone to find? And, more importantly, who the hell had found it? No one was supposed to be here. He’d estimated that it would take the arson investigation team weeks to come out for a follow up to the fire marshal’s report, and that was only if they decided the fire was suspicious enough to take a second look at. But by then, it wouldn’t matter, because Malachi would have burned the warehouse to the ground, exactly as he’d meant to the first time.
Only now he couldn’t, because someone had gone inside and found his backpack and fucked everything up.
Pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, Malachi forced his anger down. This was a setback, but he couldn’t let it sink him. He had to find a way out of this so he could do what his father hadn’t. What his fathercouldn’t.
He had to show that bastard how smart he was. And that meant he had to think.
The arson team would open a full investigation now, and they’d look at the warehouse closely enough to see multiple points of origin for the fire. They’d test the site and the backpack—Christ only knew how the fucking thing hadn’t incinerated—and all of its contents, so they’d know the fire was arson. It was a wrinkle he’d rather not have to iron out, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d bought the backpack at the most popular sporting goods store on the East Coast, choosing their best-selling and sturdiest one. He’d intended for it to burn with all the other evidence, but there still wasn’t anything inside that couldn’t be found at any hardware or camping supply store. He’d used most of it to start the fire in the first place, and he hadn’t been careless enough to put anything in the bag that would lead to him, just as he hadn’t used anything other than regular old kerosene on the tinder to make it burn fast and hot.
So the RFD was going to know the fire had been purposely set. Other than creating the need for him to be extra vigilant, which he already was, it wouldn’t matter. He’d have to figure out a way to burn the warehouse down eventually—there could be no rebirth without total destruction first, and he couldn’t leave the job halfway done. Burning the place to ashes was vital. But he could be patient. He could continue to practice, finding other things to burn just as he had this week while he waited for the heat to die down.
Weak, his father’s voice hissed in his ear, turning his breath shallow and tight.Someone thwarts your plans, and you hide? If anyone got inmyway, I’d make them pay the price.
Malachi stilled. Hewouldneed things to burn while he figured out how to return to the warehouse. Normally, he chose his sites and targets according to a variety of factors. Location, size, conditions, surroundings. But he was good enough now. What if he chose a specific place or thing to burn, then made his plan per the factors surroundingit?And what if those places or things just happened to be important to the arson investigation team who was messing with his progress?
No,came a voice from deep inside his head, the same one that always tried to get him to fight the urge to set things on fire in the first place. Malachi had to admit, it would be extremely risky to target the arson team investigating a fire that he himself had set. He was careful, yes, and he was good at setting fires. But wasn’t what had happened today just case in point that even the most meticulous plans could grow complications?
He looked at the warehouse again, torn. Just then, a man and a woman exited through the same door the techs had used, followed closely by a redheaded woman in an RFD uniform. Malachi’s pulse ratcheted in his veins, adrenaline mixing in with pure anger as he watched the trio pause in front of the building, and while he didn’t recognize the redhead, he’d never forget the faces of the other two.
Once again, Sam Faurier and Lucy de Costa had their noses where they didn’t belong, and it wasreallystarting to piss him off.
He tilted his head to listen in on their conversation, although from his hiding spot, he had to strain to hear. The redhead—Nat, he learned a minute later—seemed to be the lead arson investigator, and she turned toward Sam and Lucy, her expression serious.
“We’ve opened an official investigation, obviously. The techs will probably be here for the rest of the day, taking samples for testing and doing some other work. I’ve notified the RPD, although they know that in cases like this, my unit will take point on processing the scene. Still, involving them will help, since they can speed up the process of finding potential street cam footage and running any potential suspects through their databases.”
“What are you thinking for motive?” Sam asked, and Nat shook her head.
“We’ll do a deep dive on anyone who would benefit from the place burning down, but no giant red flags popped on the initial search the fire marshal did. The previous renter left on decent terms, and the company that owns the place didn’t have any huge insurance policies on it—in fact, they’re probably going to lose money on the rebuild.”
Lucy turned toward Nat, her frown clear even from the spot where Malachi lurked. “Then why would anyone set fire to it?”
“Right now, it’s not very clear,” Nat admitted. “We’ll do a thorough search to see if we turn up anything that looks suspicious. Sometimes people set fires to destroy evidence of other crimes, although torching a whole warehouse seems like overkill. The truth is, there’s a lot of damage here, so it’s possible that even if thatis the motive, we won’t know for sure because the evidence in questionwasdestroyed.”
Sam’s chin lifted, his arrogance plain, and God, Malachi fucking hated the guy. “Okay, so how do we catch whoever did this if we can’t figure that out?”
Nat shook her head. “Look, I appreciate that the two of you fast-tracked this and did the initial scene visit that uncovered the backpack. The truth is, there would be no case without what you saw and what you found, and if we hadn’t gotten in here to process the scene quickly, the evidence almost certainly would have been compromised. But none of that changes the fact that you did this scene visit as an off-the-books courtesy. As grateful as I am for your help, your involvement has got to end here.”
“We understand,” Lucy said, and although Sam looked furious—yeah, buddy, how does that feel?—he finally nodded in agreement.
“Yeah. Okay. I’m just glad you’re investigating.”
“I am, too,” Nat said, turning back toward the door to the warehouse. “I’ll give you any updates that I can.”
