| |
I hated waiting in the wings. When Travis was in the building, doing his heroic act, I was forced to stand on the sidelines and pray that he would come back to me. I told myself that the firefighters knew what they were doing, but from my angle, it didn’t look like the water from the hoses was doing a damned thing.
I forced myself to remain still, knowing that if I rushed into the blaze, I would be just one more person that Travis would have to rescue. I busied myself with scouring the scene as best I could. I ran around to the right and the left of the fire, searching for anything that might lead me to Rossi.
It was too hot to get close. The air surrounding the building was warped with heat and pulsing like a living creature. I got as close as I could, looking for clues that ordinarily should have waited until the next day.
I didn’t see any video cameras, but it was hard to tell through the raging fire. A few residents stumbled out into the parking lot, and I helped guide them to the ambulance. I was hyper vigilant in case any bad guys appeared, but for a long time, there was nothing but the sound of burning wood.
Finally Travis emerged, bringing Stacia and two children with him. I rallied to the scene and helped as much as I could. When it was all over, we found each other again. But there was no time for relief.
I satisfied myself that Travis wasn’t going anywhere and returned to what I had been doing. Duke and Duchess were still in the back seat of my car, watching the entire scene with horror.
I pulled them out, got down on one knee in front of them, and gave them some love. “It’s okay, kids,” I whispered, scratching behind their ears. “I need you to focus on me instead of on the fire.”
Duke seemed to nod, understanding my instructions. I stood up, put them on a leash and walked away from the fire, toward the street. If I couldn’t investigate close to the burning building, maybe there was something farther away that could sustain my attention. It was possible that the perpetrators had dropped something on the way in. Or maybe they were still on the scene, watching their terrible artwork from afar.
The dogs and I walked a full block away, checking all the parked vehicles for any signs of spectators. People were gathered in small clumps, some sitting on hoods, some leaning against streetlights. Small children clung to their parents’ legs, shivering with cold and fear.
The dogs and I passed them all, noting each one and whether or not they looked suspicious. I didn’t see anyone I recognized from Silvio Rossi’s known associates file. But that didn’t mean they weren’t there somewhere.
A standalone home on the corner had its porch light on, and an older woman was busy distributing coffee to refugees. There were at least a dozen people on her porch, mostly families. Some of the children were wrapped up in blankets, leaning against their moms and dads.
Several of the adults were taking phone calls, and a good portion of them were crowded toward the far left of the porch where they could monitor what was going on down the block. I walked up to the group, making sure my badge was visible.
“Is everyone all right?” I asked generally.
There were a few nods and a few smiles, but no one stepped forward with any information.
“This was arson, right?” one teenaged boy asked.
“Yes,” I confirmed. Ordinarily, I would deflect that question for our media relations team. You didn’t ever want to say anything in the field that could come back to the department in any negative way. But this time, I was sure. I knew it was arson; I knew who did it and why. There was no point in lying to the public.
“But why?” one woman wailed.
I shook my head. That I was not going to get into with civilians. The chief could have a press conference after we caught the bastard and explain everything. Right now, I just wanted to take the general temperature of the scene and see if I could generate any leads.
“Did anyone see anything suspicious before the fire or after it started?” I asked.
The people looked around blankly, each one checking to see if anyone else had seen anything. Finally, all I got were a bunch of shaking heads. I moved on. Approaching everyone I could find on the sidewalk, I asked the same question.
“We don’t have anywhere to go,” one man said, his arm around his pregnant wife.
I passed along a card I kept for just such occasions. It had a hotline survivors of violence could call to get help. “These folks will find you some place to stay,” I said encouragingly.
Coming to the end of the block, I turned back toward the crime scene. The building lit up the night, no closer to being put out than it had been when we arrived. Both Duke and Duchess were busy sniffing the ground, looking for clues that only they could smell. Neither made a move or did anything to indicate that they’d found anything.
I took them back down the street, methodically noting the arrival and departure of the various survivors. I was only one cop, so I could take everyone’s name and phone number. To my great relief, I saw the Littleton PD pull up a minute later.
“I saw you at the standoff,” one officer said, getting out of her car.
“Yeah, that was pretty awful,” I agreed. There had been at least a dozen officers involved in the shootout between Rossi’s gang and law enforcement a week and a half ago. At the time, I thought we were going to catch the bastard, but he slipped through our fingers.
“Same MO?” the cop asked.
“Different MO, same guy,” I related. “This time it was personal.”
“What do you want us to do?” the officer asked, deferring to my authority.
“Go around and talk to everyone who’s standing outside,” I instructed. “Get statements, names, and numbers so that we can contact them later. Any insight is valuable, no matter how small.”
“You got it,” the policewoman said, turning to her partner. “You go left, I’ll go right.”
With some help interviewing witnesses, I turned my attention back to the building. The perpetrators were long gone, I thought. They weren’t the suicidal type, no matter how many other lives they put in danger.
Off in the distance, across the parking lot, I saw a single figure standing there, watching the blaze. There was something about him that piqued my interest. Maybe it was the way he held himself or the massive upper body hidden in an oversized sweatshirt.
My thoughts flashed back to the video footage of the previous fire. The man in the parking lot looked suspiciously like the criminals caught on film. I started toward him, transferring both leashes to one hand so I could reach for my gun.
If he was the one responsible, he was taking an awful risk sticking around. Yet, that’s what firebugs did, wasn’t it? They liked to watch the destruction that they created. It wasn’t Rossi, but it would be just like him to hire another maniac to do his dirty work.
Halfway across the lot, the man spotted me and took off running. All doubts flew from my mind, and I released the dogs. Duke and Duchess knew exactly what to do. They had trained for this very situation hundreds of times.
I poured every last ounce of strength into the sprint, closing the distance as my two animal companions overtook the suspect. He reached the opposite end of the street and disappeared between two buildings. Duke and Duchess tore after him, barking a warning. My feet hit the pavement in rapid succession, keeping tempo with my heartbeat. I couldn’t lose him, not again.
We were so close to making an arrest, and I owed it to Mom and Dad to close the case once and for all. It wasn’t just my family, but the hundreds of other lives that Rossi had put in danger, including Travis and his ex-girlfriend.
Anger motivated me to keep going. I raced into the alley, all the way down the line to find my suspect trapped behind a dumpster. He was busy throwing things at Duke. Bottles, boxes, anything he could get his hands on, he winged through the air.
“Freeze!” I yelled, pulling my gun.
I hardly felt winded as the sheer exhilaration of catching up to him dominated my thoughts. This was it. This was the turning point. I was sure that this guy could lead us to Rossi, and that this nightmare hadn’t been in vain.
“Down on your knees!” I commanded.
“But the dogs...” the guy said, launching another projectile at my best friend.
“Put the bottle down or I’ll shoot!” I said.
“Tell your dogs to stand down!” he yelled back.
“Duke!” I shouted. “Heel.”
Both Duke and Duchess stopped what they were doing, but they didn’t sit. Instead, they growled menacingly, letting the perpetrator know who was boss. I pulled my handcuffs out and inched toward the guy. There was still a chance that he would try to break free. He was ten times bigger than me and scared to death. I had only the dogs for backup, and I knew that the next few seconds were crucial.
“Down on the ground,” I barked.
The criminal did as he was told, lowering himself first to his knees and then to his stomach on the trash-strewn pavement.
“Hands behind your head,” I continued, coming around behind him to get better leverage.
He linked his fingers behind his head, giving me an opening. I knelt beside him, grabbing one hand and then the other and locking them into the cuffs. When the threat had passed, I took a second to collect myself.
I walked the guy back to my cruiser and stuck him in the back. In the chaos of the evening, no one even noticed.
