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“Have you made any progress?” the chief demanded when I got to his office.
“Some,” I said. “We discovered that the fire last night was at a building owned by Red Haired, Inc.”
“Red Haired, Inc.?” the chief asked.
“One of Rossi’s companies,” I explained. “Rossi means ‘red haired.’”
“So it was him?” Chief Jones concluded.
“I’m not sure.” I hesitated. “The signs were off. There wasn’t any electrical damage, and the mark that he leaves on most of his jobs wasn’t there.”
“So it wasn’t him?”
“I don’t know yet,” I admitted.
“All right,” he sighed. “Keep at it. The mayor and the press are up my ass to resolve this issue. They want us to collaborate closely with the police.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing,” I objected.
“I know,” he allowed, “so just keep chipping away. Quickly.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
“Do the police have any contacts within the Rossi syndicate?” Chief Jones asked.
“Is that what they’re calling it?” Funny how a local businessman became an infamous mobster overnight after everyone discovered what he was capable of.
“Yeah,” the chief confirmed.
“Aside from the guys that they caught?” I asked.
“Aside from them,” he agreed.
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Are Rossi’s associates talking?” Chief Jones continued.
I shook my head. Alaina and her team had been up and down the career criminals that they’d caught in the apartment fire. They had all lawyered up and were patiently doing their time. They had nothing to gain and everything to lose by turning on their former boss.
“What about that officer who was undercover?” the chief suggested.
“I know she’s been through briefings, and I know that Alaina has spoken to her,” I answered.
“Circle back to her. Maybe she’ll remember something about the fires that could be useful to us.”
“Got it,” I agreed. Despite the fact that it was a good call, I didn’t really think that Alaina’s friend was holding on to any extra information. Whatever she’d discovered, she’d already shared with the police department. She wasn’t an arson investigator, and she wouldn’t know what to look for in terms of accelerants.
So instead of driving back to the police station, I went to the hospital. Technically still on the clock, I decided that Stacia was a better source of information. Maybe she had seen something in that room. Maybe someone had tipped that piece of heavy furniture on top of her and left her for dead. If she could point the finger at someone, maybe we could use that tip to discover where Rossi was hiding. If he was still in Denver.
But when I got to the hospital, I discovered that Stacia had been discharged. I asked for her current alias this time, and the receptionist was only able to tell me she’d been released. I thanked her and walked back into the lobby, temporarily defeated.
Then I remembered a connection I had in the Littleton Fire Department. He was a transfer from Denver, and we knew each other well. Not well enough for him to tell me that Stacia was working there under an assumed name, but well enough that I thought I could ask for his help. He probably didn’t even recognize her, since he’d only transferred less than a year ago. There wasn’t a lot of history, but I was willing to take a gamble.
“Hey Simon,” I started. “This is Travis from Denver.”
“Hey Travis,” Simon said, “what’s up?”
“You know that job we worked a few nights ago?” I asked.
“How could I forget?”
“One of your firefighters was injured.”
“Tricia,” Simon guessed.
“That’s right,” I confirmed. “I was the one who brought her to the hospital, but she’s checked out. I was wondering if you’ve seen her today?”
“No, sorry,” Simon said. “I’m not at work.”
“Any chance you know her home address?” I held my breath, wondering if he was going to block me, or allow me to see her. It was a tough call. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t give out home addresses for my work colleagues, but if the request came from another firefighter, that would be different. Simon was on the same wavelength and had no reservations about rattling off her apartment number.
I thanked him and hung up. Gazing at my phone for half a second, I deliberated. I hadn’t changed my number since Stacia died. That meant that if she wanted to get in touch with me, she could. Should I take her disappearance from the hospital without saying goodbye as proof that our relationship was over? If that was the case, I wanted to hear it from her.
Feeling guilty about wanting to see her again, I got back in my car. I set the GPS to her home address and drove straight there, sitting outside her building for a long time before going in. She answered her door carefully, befitting a woman who was worried about her personal safety.
The chain remained intact as she gazed out into the hallway. I couldn’t tell from her first reaction whether she was pleased to see me or not. But she didn’t turn me away. Closing the door so she could unlock it completely, she stepped aside.
I walked into a room that was similar to my own. The kitchen was right up front, but it was smaller than mine. There was a living room with a big screen television and a bunch of gaming hardware. That was odd. Stacia had never been into video games when we were together.
I was about to point that out when a guy walked out of the bedroom, wearing only a T-shirt and boxers. He seemed surprised to see me but not worried. Whoever he was, he was acting like he lived there. Boyfriend maybe, or husband.
“Um, Travis this is Ryan, my boyfriend,” Stacia said awkwardly. “Ryan, this is Travis. He’s the firefighter that rescued me a few nights ago.”
“Wow, great to meet you, man,” Ryan said, holding out his hand.
I shook it, reading a great deal into the fact that Stacia had chosen to omit the part where we had almost been engaged at one point. I guessed I was supposed to follow her lead and not let on that we had been romantic. Her discomfort with that part of our past rubbed me the wrong way, but at the same time, her involvement with another man made it much more cut and dried.
She wasn’t available anymore. That was a huge weight off my shoulders. I didn’t have to worry about whether I liked her or not, or how she stacked up to Alaina. She had a new guy, and I had a new girl. We had closed that chapter of our lives for good, and the realization was freeing.
“Good to meet you too,” I responded. “Glad to see Sta-Tricia’s got someone to look after her.”
“I don’t know,” Ryan replied, giving his girlfriend a sideways glance. “She’s pretty good about handling herself.”
“Are you a firefighter?” I asked.
“Yes, sir,” Ryan answered proudly. “Just started six months ago.”
I took another look at Ryan and realized that he was a lot younger than I had originally thought. He looked competent, though, so I decided Stacia was in good hands.
“Listen, can I ask St-Tricia about what she saw?” I began, hoping to carve out some alone time with the potential witness.
“I didn’t see anything,” Stacia said quickly.
“Still, I’d like to cover all my bases,” I insisted. “If that’s all right with you.”
“I’m gonna hit the gym,” Ryan said, going back to the bedroom to change.
“He seems great,” I began.
“Don’t,” she warned.
“I have a girlfriend too,” I said, just so we could be on the same wavelength. “I’m not looking to restart anything.”
Stacia exhaled, clearly relieved. I took offense to the thought that she was so overwhelmed by my presence that she couldn’t tell me the truth. I didn’t know what I had done to deserve the treatment I was getting, and anger nibbled at my gut. I told myself that she had probably been alone for a long time just as I was. But I didn’t know that to be the case. She might have hopped right into bed with someone else before finally landing on Ryan. I had no way of knowing what the past few years had been like for her. Though I thought I had known her well, I was beginning to realize that I didn’t know her at all.
“I didn’t come here to argue,” I said.
“That’s a relief,” she responded, walking into the kitchen.
I stayed near the door, wanting to give her space. I needed her to be honest, and with the vibes she was giving off, I could tell I was just centimeters from being asked to leave. Ryan came back, dressed in his gym clothes. He kissed Stacia goodbye before moving past me.
“I hope you catch him,” Ryan said as he walked out the door. I must have looked confused, because he added, “The guy who set the fire.”
“Right,” I agreed. That was the whole reason I had given myself for coming over here. I wasn’t trying to get back into Stacia’s life. I needed to know what she knew about Rossi and his team.
Ryan left, and the apartment was plunged into awkward silence. I decided that the direct approach was the best. I wouldn’t act hurt over what she had done, but rather focus on the future and try to open official communication channels.
“Can you tell me what happened in the fire before I pulled you out?” I asked.
She sighed, reaching into the cabinet for a coffee mug. She pulled one out for me too, without asking, and poured two cups but remained on her feet. I didn’t make a move toward my beverage because I didn’t want to spook her. The most important thing at this point was to get her talking.
“I responded to the scene at ten thirty-three. The fire was coming from the utility room on the left-hand side of the building. While Ryan and Simon got out the hose, I went in to clear the building of civilians,” she relayed the official story, adding no additional observations.
I let her run through the whole thing before continuing my search for the truth. “Did you see anyone in the room with you?”
“No,” she said, so quickly I couldn’t tell if she was lying or if she was tired of answering the same question again and again.
There would have been paperwork to fill out, and she would have had to brief her firehouse chief. She’d probably said exactly the same thing in both reports, and she wasn’t giving me any new details. I got frustrated and changed tactics.
“Who are you running away from? Why are you in witness protection?”
“You know I can’t answer those questions,” she said, although her voice was soft rather than confrontational.
“Is it someone I know?” I asked.
“No,” she responded. “You never met him.”
“Is he still in the area?” I continued pressuring her to talk. The lack of information was irritating, and I couldn’t help myself.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Is there anything you can tell me?” I asked. “Any connection between the fire and the reason you had to run?”
She stopped, looking me dead in the eye before finally shaking her head. I looked over at the cup of coffee she had poured for me but didn’t make any move toward it. There was nothing more to say. Though a lot of baggage hung in the air between us, Stacia was clear that she didn’t care to open it.
“Thank you for your time,” I said politely before showing myself out.
