Arsonist (11 page)

CHAPTER 23

A noise
invaded her dreams. It grated against her consciousness and she tried to shrug it off. She saw herself on a beach with her mother and brother. Her father was on the porch of the old house with the dilapidated roof. Sand crabs were before her, crawling in their funny sideways walk across the sand as she stood barefoot before them, her brother squealing as he threw stones at them, and her mother asking him to stop as they were God’s creatures.

The sunshine was so bright that her mother forced her to wear sunglasses and
a ridiculous amount of sunblock. Her brother was several years older and didn’t have to use as much but he always got burnt. Her parents never seemed to mind.

Her father was trying to say something to her. She turned to him and tried to hear but couldn’t because the surf was too loud. He stood in his shorts and striped shirt, smoking his pipe and he held it up in an expressive motion as he yelled to her but she still couldn’t hear him and the surf grew louder and louder. It was hurting her ears and she put her hands up to them and screamed.

Monique jumped up in bed. The light of a dying sun was coming through the open window and she could hear children playing outside. Her shirt clung to her with sweat but the cool breeze coming through the window calmed her and she stared at the dust that swirled in the beams of light that she watched slowly begin to fade.

She heard a sound and turned to see the man sitting on a chair in the corner. He was eating out of a carton with one hand and playing with an hourglass filled with sand with his other. He was completely enveloped and didn’t notice that she had waked. When he saw her, he lifted another carton that was on the floor along with a bottle of Gatorade and placed it next to her on the bed before sitting back down and continuing his play.

Monique lifted the top of the carton. She had refused food the past two days but she couldn’t refuse anymore. Her stomach ached and her tongue felt swollen and dry from lack of moisture. She took a long drink from the bottle and then dug into the food in the carton; a gyro and French fries with a side salad.

“It’s good to see you eating,” he said without looking at her.

She shoved several fries in her mouth but didn’t respond. She ate quietly and swigged half the bottle of the Gatorade in one gulp.

“You should slow down
. You’ll get a tummy ache.”

He turned to her. His face
…it would’ve been handsome except for the deep scruff and the constant sheen of glistening sweat. His cheeks were red, almost as if he had applied make up, but there was something manly in his jaw and neck that balanced the effect.

“You haven’t killed me,” she said
. “You haven’t raped me. What are you gonna do with me?”

“I could do those things. Our relationship is still young.”

“Do you want to kill me?”

He shrugged. “That, my young girl, was the right question. Anyone else would’ve asked if I was going to kill them. You asked about my desire. As a reward, I’ll answer you and answer you honestly; no, I don’t
want
to kill you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Why do you think? And be honest because if you lie I can tell.”

She bit into her gyro and wiped her hands on her jeans. “I think you need a place to stay. If there was an old man in this house instead of me
, I think he’d be tied up here.”

He curled his lower lip and nodded. “Not entirely false, but not entirely true either.”

“Then why did you choose here of all places?”

“I saw you, at the bookstore.”

Monique quickly scanned her memory of the last bookstore she’d been in. A Barnes & Noble near Carmel Mountain Road. Had she seen him anywhere? She sat in the café perusing a few books and then made a purchase. She didn’t remember him there; would she have remembered seeing someone like him?

“I didn’t let you see me,” he said, seemingly reading her thoughts.

“Why did you choose me?”

He spun the hourglass on the side
table and stood up. “The book you were reading. Dostoevsky. It’s my favorite book.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. She felt her entire body convulse in fear and disgust. “I’ll be back before morning.”

“Where are you going?”

“To paint the town red. Don’t wait up.”

CHAPTER 24

Stanton finished his afternoon surfing early and then headed inside for a quick shave and shower. By the time he’d chosen what to wear and groomed his hair, it was already six in the evening. He headed out the door and saw his neighbor trying to unlock her door while holding a bag of groceries and he went and held the bag as she opened the door.

“Thanks, Jon.”

“It’s okay. How’s your cat?”

“Vet said it was just a fever. He’s doing okay now. Thanks for asking. Um, do you want to come in for some juice or something?”

“Thanks
, Cindy, no, I’ve…I’ve actually got a date.”

“Really? Who’s the lucky gal that got you out of your apartment for once?”

“You wouldn’t know her. She’s a professor of chemistry.”

“Well stop by and tell me all about it if it’s not too late.”

“I’ll try. I better go. I’ll see ya.”

“I’m not kidding, Jon, you come tell me everything that happens. I’ve got female intuition.”

“Bye Cindy.”

“Bye.”

The freeway was at a near standstill with an accident but as the sun was going down it painted the sky in vivid gold. Stanton turned his radio off and watched the sunset for as long as he could. Once he got past the accident, he sped down to Roosevelt and got off near the Pacific Coast Highway. There was a restaurant there right on the beach in between Los Angeles and San Diego. It was a little-known spot, mostly populated by locals. They didn’t advertise and you couldn’t find them online. The only way to reserve a table was through word of mouth. This gave it an air of exclusivity and only added to its draw.

Stanton had discovered it with Melissa, his ex-wife. They had been surfing all day in Malibu and were starving on the drive back and needed to stop somewhere when Mel pointed to the
oddly spiral-roofed building and said they should stop there.

The memory of it seared him and he wished he’d made a reservation somewhere else.

He walked into the restaurant and saw Emma waiting for him near the hostess, chatting with her about an odd ring she had on her finger. Stanton came up behind her and waited politely until she was finished speaking.

“Oh, hey,” Emma said, feeling his presence behind her.

“Hey. You didn’t wait long I hope.”

“No
, not at all. You ready to sit? I’m starving.”

“Sure.”

The hostess led them to a table next to one of the massive windows overlooking the sea. The lighting from the restaurant lit up the beach enough that you could see the waves lap the shore in thick white foam.

“I’ve never heard of this place,” she said, as a waiter placed water down for them.

“It’s kinda hidden away. The owner’s a real estate investor or something along those lines. Developer or something. He doesn’t need the income from this place so he told me once he can afford to keep it pure. It’s strictly a place that people are referred to by other people. No advertising at all.”

“How’d you hear about it?”

“I was driving by once and stopped here.”

“With your ex?”

“That obvious?”

“You cringed a little when you thought about it. How long you been divorced?”

“Going on four years now.”

“Does it get easier?”

“I guess so. I miss my kids a lot. They have a stepfather now and I think they’re forgetting about me.”

“They’re young, I’m guessing. Young kids do that. When they get older they’ll change. There’s something about blood that just has a draw. People’s fathers could be the worst sons of bitches on the planet but to their kids they’re still larger than life. That’s just how it is I think.”

“They’re good kids. I figure if I leave them alone and not push it too hard they’ll come around. What about you? Any kids?”

“Oh, no. I’ve never even really been in a serious relationship. Well, once in college I dated a guy, a football player, for like three months but he turned out to be an asshole. He thought it was cool to date a virgin nerd and see if he could be the first.”

“Was he?”

“Of course not. He kept trying to get me drunk and after some time I figured out what he was doing. So I broke it off with him. Just haven’t found anyone interesting since. Until I met you,” she said, blushing slightly.

“Why would you say that? I’m actually pretty boring.”

“No, I don’t think so. There’s something about you. Something kinda dark. Maybe dark’s not the right word. Mysterious, enigmatic. I don’t know what it is but it forced me to say yes when you asked me out.”

“Well, Professor, I think you’re going to be sorely disappointed. Other than surfing, I sit home and watch reruns of
Battlestar Galactica
.”

“Oh my crap. I love
Battlestar Galactica
.”

“Really? Well I have the DVD collection as well as a rare director’s cut from one of the episodes in the second season. It’s really hard to get.”

“Do you think—”

The waiter interrupted and asked if they were ready to order. Stanton knew what he wanted and ordered and Emma had to take a moment before deciding on the lobster with clam chowder as an appetizer. When the waiter had left, she took a sip of her water and excused herself to the bathroom.

Stanton looked out the window to the ocean and saw a couple walking by holding hands. They were barefoot and kicking sand up with each step. He turned away from the window and checked his cell phone. There was a text from Gunn:

did you see the report from Benny about the Brichard house???

Stanton opened his emails in another window. The report was sent as a PDF attached to an email sent from one of the administrative assistants to Robbery-Homicide. He opened the PDF. After reading the first paragraph, he closed the email and called Benny’s cell phone.

“This is Benny.”

“What do you mean it’s not arson?”

“Who is this?”

“It’s Jon Stanton and I’m not in the mood for games. What do you mean it’s not arson?”

“If you read the report you know what I mean.”

“It was clearly arson. The family was bound up in the living room.”

“I read your report. That wasn’t a chain. We had it tested. It was pipe from the heating ducts in the ceiling. They fell when the roof collapsed on that section of the house and when it melted it looked like chain. It wasn’t. And we didn’t find any remnants of rope or anything like that.”

“There wouldn’t be any remnants, Benny. That fire turned their bones to ash.”

“There was still fragments of bones left.”

“How’d it get so hot?”

“That I don’t know. I traced the fire to an electrical wire behind the dishwasher in the kitchen. Fire spread to the living room and the bedrooms next. They were all in the living room when the fire cut off their escape. They probably just cuddled together. That’s what people sometimes do in a fire.”

“There were windows in the living room, they would’ve jumped.”

“People don’t think clearly in fire. They do things they wouldn’t normally do. Who knows what they were thinking?”

“You don’t have kids. You don’t know what you think. He would have thrown his kids out the window, I promise you he would’ve.”

“It’s all conjecture, Detective. You got my report. You got a problem with it, hire your professor like you did last time.”

Stanton was silent a moment. “You son of a bitch. That’s what this is about? Your ego? What are you, six years old? Are your feelings hurt that I consulted someone else?”

“Fuck you, Jon.”

The phone clicked and the call ended. Stanton dialed again but it went to voicemail. He put his phone away. The way the family was gathered in the living room was not chance. It wasn’t a protective instinct to block themselves momentarily from the fire; they were forced into that position. Stanton knew it. He just
knew
it.

“Who was that?” Emma asked as she sat back down.

“Benny. That case I asked for your help on, he thinks it wasn’t arson.”

She didn’t respond but instead took a sip of water and then waited for him to continue.

“Emma, he doesn’t think it was arson.”

“I heard you.”

“You don’t care?”

“Why would I care?”

“Because it clearly was. Someone’s going to stay out there because Benny determined this was an accident.”

“No system’s perfect.”

“You really don’t care?”

“Not one bit.”

“This guy probably killed an entire family. You’re okay with that?”

“Of course I’m not okay with that but I’m also not a superhero.”

“Help me on this, Emma. There’s no way this was an accident.”

“I told you, I don’t work for law enforcement. That was one time just because an innocent kid was going to get railroaded.”

“What about this family? They don’t deserve your work because a cop happens to be investigating their case?”

“You’re making me uncomfortable, Jon. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Well too bad,” Stanton said loudly. “A family gets burned to death and you’re going to play politics with me?”

She folded her napkin and placed it on the table before rising. “Call me when you’ve calmed down.”

She left the restaurant, leaving Stanton sitting there, staring at her as she walked across the street, the cell phone to her ear as she called someone to pick her up. The waiter came over and asked if he needed anything. He said no and stood, placed some cash down, and went to his car and sat in the parking lot. He thought about chasing her down but it wouldn’t do any good. He was thrown off kilter, as if someone had replaced his guts with lead weights and they bogged him down. He felt confused and angry and knew he wasn’t in any shape to speak to anybody.

Stanton sat in his car and watched her until the cab pulled to the curb and picked her up. Then he started the car, and headed home.