edgy.
“After they poured the glue, they tossed the cans to the side.” David pointed with the end of his Halligan, and Micah kept
filming. “Two cans there, and two more upstairs, roughly in the same spot. Together with the one we found at the entrance,
they poured out five. One can on each floor would have been too much. These were amateurs.”
“I think you’re right.” Micah lowered the camera. “Anything else you see?”
“We’re working our way outward,” Jeff said, tapping his way as he went.
David did the same, then stopped when his Halligan hit something soft and he heard the crackle of charred paper. “Look at
that.”
Jeff sighed. “Last time you said that I had to pull your ass out of the abyss.”
But David was already kneeling, shining his light on what he’d found. “It’s a backpack, or it was anyway.”
“We’ll get it to the lab,” Micah said. “Maybe they can find something left.”
Jeff gently nudged the corner of the bag with his ax handle and part of the side crumbled away. “Good luck with that. What
the hell are you looking at, David?”
David had bent low, shining his light on a lump of black that stuck up from the debris. “I don’t know. Some kind of a case,
warped open. Whatever it held is melted to the bottom of it.” A bit of pink plastic peeked from the charred lump.
“I’ll get some stills to show Homicide.” Micah sighed impatiently. “Damn. I’m late for their morning meeting.” He snapped
a few pictures with his digital camera. “CSU will bag it. We’ll figure out what it is at the lab. I’ll be back later. Don’t
touch anything.”
“We’re not stupid,” Jeff muttered when Micah was gone.
“Neither is he,” David said absently, still staring at the case’s melted contents.
“He’s a cop,” Jeff stated flatly, “and they all want to be firefighters. Idiots. They’d burn up if it weren’t for us, charging
in without gear, with the wrong kind of extinguisher. Ready to save the damn day before they even know what kind of fire they
got.”
David let him rant, knowing he’d say the same thing regardless of any response David made. There was a story there, he figured,
and one day Jeff would tell it.
Story
. David stared at the mangled case, his mind pulling a long-forgotten memory. He’d been a small boy, sitting on his grandmother’s
lap. He’d always been more fascinated with gadgets than the story she’d tell, especially the gadget that sat behind her ear.
He’d reach for it, only to have his small hands gently pushed away.
No, David
, she’d say,
don’t touch. That’s not a toy.
“We should have told Barlow to bring us food,” Jeff finished with a sigh. “I’m starving. Let’s take a break and see what’s
left on the truck. Hey. Dave. Come on.”
“I know what this pink plastic thing is,” David said.
“Don’t tell me. I want to guess,” Jeff said. “Okay, give me a hint.”
It was a game they sometimes played that helped them deal when they had to poke around the ashes of people’s lives. “It whistles
as it works.” David straightened, hoping he could catch Micah before he left, but through the broken window he could see the
cop’s taillights going through the gate.
Behind him, he heard Jeff’s heavy sigh and knew he’d figured it out. “Dammit, David. The girl never had a chance, did she?”
“Doesn’t look like it. I’m going outside to call Micah’s cell. He’ll want to tell Olivia.”
“Olivia?” Jeff asked, new curiosity in his voice. “You mean Detective Sutherland? She was pretty hot. And she was watching
you.”
“Leave it alone,” David said flatly. “And don’t ask. I mean it.”
For all his teasing, Jeff knew when to quit. “Chill, man. I’m going out with you. I need to get some food.”
• • •
Monday, September 20, 8:00 a.m.
“Happy Monday.” Captain Bruce Abbott dropped a plastic bowl of cookies on the round table in his office.
“After they poured the glue, they tossed the cans to the side.” David pointed with the end of his Halligan, and Micah kept
filming. “Two cans there, and two more upstairs, roughly in the same spot. Together with the one we found at the entrance,
they poured out five. One can on each floor would have been too much. These were amateurs.”
“I think you’re right.” Micah lowered the camera. “Anything else you see?”
“We’re working our way outward,” Jeff said, tapping his way as he went.
David did the same, then stopped when his Halligan hit something soft and he heard the crackle of charred paper. “Look at
that.”
Jeff sighed. “Last time you said that I had to pull your ass out of the abyss.”
But David was already kneeling, shining his light on what he’d found. “It’s a backpack, or it was anyway.”
“We’ll get it to the lab,” Micah said. “Maybe they can find something left.”
Jeff gently nudged the corner of the bag with his ax handle and part of the side crumbled away. “Good luck with that. What
the hell are you looking at, David?”
David had bent low, shining his light on a lump of black that stuck up from the debris. “I don’t know. Some kind of a case,
warped open. Whatever it held is melted to the bottom of it.” A bit of pink plastic peeked from the charred lump.
“I’ll get some stills to show Homicide.” Micah sighed impatiently. “Damn. I’m late for their morning meeting.” He snapped
a few pictures with his digital camera. “CSU will bag it. We’ll figure out what it is at the lab. I’ll be back later. Don’t
touch anything.”
“We’re not stupid,” Jeff muttered when Micah was gone.
“Neither is he,” David said absently, still staring at the case’s melted contents.
“He’s a cop,” Jeff stated flatly, “and they all want to be firefighters. Idiots. They’d burn up if it weren’t for us, charging
in without gear, with the wrong kind of extinguisher. Ready to save the damn day before they even know what kind of fire they
got.”
David let him rant, knowing he’d say the same thing regardless of any response David made. There was a story there, he figured,
and one day Jeff would tell it.
Story
. David stared at the mangled case, his mind pulling a long-forgotten memory. He’d been a small boy, sitting on his grandmother’s
lap. He’d always been more fascinated with gadgets than the story she’d tell, especially the gadget that sat behind her ear.
He’d reach for it, only to have his small hands gently pushed away.
No, David
, she’d say,
don’t touch. That’s not a toy.
“We should have told Barlow to bring us food,” Jeff finished with a sigh. “I’m starving. Let’s take a break and see what’s
left on the truck. Hey. Dave. Come on.”
“I know what this pink plastic thing is,” David said.
“Don’t tell me. I want to guess,” Jeff said. “Okay, give me a hint.”
It was a game they sometimes played that helped them deal when they had to poke around the ashes of people’s lives. “It whistles
as it works.” David straightened, hoping he could catch Micah before he left, but through the broken window he could see the
cop’s taillights going through the gate.
Behind him, he heard Jeff’s heavy sigh and knew he’d figured it out. “Dammit, David. The girl never had a chance, did she?”
“Doesn’t look like it. I’m going outside to call Micah’s cell. He’ll want to tell Olivia.”
“Olivia?” Jeff asked, new curiosity in his voice. “You mean Detective Sutherland? She was pretty hot. And she was watching
you.”
“Leave it alone,” David said flatly. “And don’t ask. I mean it.”
For all his teasing, Jeff knew when to quit. “Chill, man. I’m going out with you. I need to get some food.”
• • •
Monday, September 20, 8:00 a.m.
“Happy Monday.” Captain Bruce Abbott dropped a plastic bowl of cookies on the round table in his office.
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