Diana (15 page)

"I appreciate that. So, where are you headed now?"

"Headquarters, then a meeting with the brass. I'll catch up with you this weekend."

"Okay, see you later."

Diana headed toward her car when her cell phone rang. “Hello."

"Dee, it's me, Brian. You're not going to believe this. The chief just reamed a bunch of us out. We're on temporary probation."

"What the hell for?"

"Apparently, our lack of following protocol and contaminating possible evidence at the fire scene. Fontella suggested a retake of three four-week courses on arson and fire investigation and the firefighter's role in preservation of the crime scene. This is fucking bullshit."

"I'm sorry, Brian, really I am. Who else is on probation?"

"Me, Don, Earl, Ralphy, Carlton, just about everyone who was working that night of the fire."

"What do you do if there's a call?"

"We can go out only if we're limited on men. The chief called in the rest of the crew, some help from other houses and nearby precincts, but we basically have to do the shit, rookie work, around here. What the hell is going on with your investigation? Do you really think a firefighter is the suspect?"

"Shit, Brian, you know I can't talk to you about this case. I have no idea what Fontella is on to. The arson investigation is his job, not mine. If you didn't follow protocol, then he has a case and you have to deal with it."

Diana was annoyed. Not with her brother but with Luke Fontella. His allegations affected her life, and now people thought she believed the same things he did.

"So, you don't even give a shit that this happened?"

"No, Brian, I didn't say that. Just deal with it. I'll deal with Fontella. I'll call you later."

She jumped into her car. A headache was coming on. The sun was setting and the streetlights now illuminated the roads. She was angry, and she wanted answers. She wanted to speak with Luke.

She debated about heading to his place, knowing what the visit might lead to. She battled with her own words about her focus remaining solely on the case.

Yet, she found herself driving in his direction.

On the way there, Diana's cell phone rang.

"Hello."

"A little information for you, Detective Pellino."

"Who is this?"

"It doesn't matter. You need some help. Fontella has a history you should look into."

"Who is this?” Diana was irritated. The Caller ID gave her no clue as to whom she spoke with.

"Stewart Howard. Look it up. Fontella was present at all the fires, and he pretends that he's still searching for the suspect. A copy is on its way to your email."

"What are you..."

The person hung up the phone. Diana headed straight home. She wanted to read the emails and find out what the heck the caller was talking about.

She arrived home and headed straight to her computer. Opening up her e-mails, she saw the three documents sent from a library three blocks from her precinct. She wondered if there was a way to trace the email back to the sender. Maybe that person had to log on with a password and account, in order to use the library computers? She would look into that later.

Diana clicked on the first file. There was a copy of a headline and a story about two firefighters killed in the line of duty. The story was heart wrenching. She recalled the serial arsonist and the numerous fires he set. Her family had conversations about the fact that someone would intentionally set fires to harm firefighters and kill innocent people. She remembered attending the funeral services for the fallen heroes with her family.

She read further about the one firefighter who survived the blaze. The injuries he sustained and the fact he quit the job because of the fire. Diana read Luke Fontella's name. Her heart ached for his loss, and the trauma he'd experienced.

The thoughts evoked images of Luke's muscular body, and the slightly visible scars along his abdomen. He was a firefighter, and he had the physique and obvious battle wounds to show for being in such a profession. Then there was the scar near his neck and collarbone. They were barely visible, but she'd noticed them.

She continued to read the material, all newspaper clippings, articles, and recorded broadcasts from local television stations. Then she saw a link to other recordings. Clicking on them with her mouse, the recordings uploaded to the computer. Luke's voice echoed through the speakers.

"
No. I don't want to do the job anymore. There's no need to be there now that they're gone."

"You mean your friends. The ones who died in the fire?” a woman's voice said.

"Yes."

"But you expressed in earlier sessions that you love the job. It's your life."

"I used to love it. The feel of the heat, the search and rescue. People respected firefighters, appreciated the fact that we put our lives on the line, sometimes for nothing but building structures."

"How do you feel about the arsonist?"

"He's getting more attention than those who lost their lives. What is this world coming to? Where are the ethics, the belief that hard work pays off? You can't even get good service when you go to the store anymore. There's lazy clerks, lazy waitresses—no one wants to earn their life, their living. The arsonist, I think he knows this. He's smarter than I am."

Diana swallowed hard, listening to Luke's words, his rough tone of voice. He was down on himself, the world. How the hell did someone get a copy of his therapy session? She thought about what he said. Her mind was in overdrive.

She clicked on the next email. There was a series of dates, fires, death investigations leading up to a little over a year ago. There was no identification, no picture, no personal information on Stewart Howard. However, the sender showed multiple connections indicating that Luke Fontella was in fact Stewart Howard.

Diana's heart felt as if it dropped into her stomach.

This was insane. She didn't believe it. There was an ulterior motive here. There had to be.

She stared at the information highlighted in yellow on the screen. She thought about Luke's words from the tapes, and his indication that the serial arsonist received more attention than the firefighters. Then she thought about how Luke expressed his thoughts on the lack of ethics, no belief in hard work. He'd said: “You can't even get good service when you go to the store anymore. Lazy clerks.” Instantly she thought of Barbara and Lee.

Her mind was in a frazzled state. She took a deep breath, focusing on the source of the information. Luke pissed a lot of people off with his accusation that a firefighter could be their suspect. Anyone could have sent this information to her with the hopes of influencing her investigation. She couldn't help but to think about Luke, what he went through, how that affected his judgment, and his words at the time of therapy. Then she thought about his physique, and the nausea set in.

Luke was a large, very strong man, well trained and more than capable of breaking bones. There was no doubt there. He had access to flares and other firefighting gear.

She covered her mouth with her hand, remembering all the boxes of supplies in his garage. The lab reports from the last fire weren't all back yet, but Diana recalled how the forensics team found remnants of an unknown substance embedded in the crease of Lee's neck. The medical examiner stated the cause of death was strangulation, and protective gloves were worn. Perhaps the unknown residue could be remnants of material from the gloves firefighters wore?

She'd have to wait to confirm this. Luke's report indicated there were numerous boot marks located around the crime scene, therefore contaminating possible evidence nearby. Maybe he planned it that way? Now, he was accusing other firefighters in an attempt to keep his own motives hidden.

Motive
. What in the hell would be his motive for doing this?

She tried to organize her thoughts, frustration at the department, the media, perhaps society itself. Luke's statements about the lack of work ethics, the lazy clerk, the bad service, the glorification of the killer instead of the victims were clear. Diana easily sensed Luke's tone, the anxiety and stress in his voice. He was hurting inside.

She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. Her stomach ached. Laying her hands on either side of the keyboard, she sat still, staring at the screen in front of her.

He wasn't some kind of vigilante going after criminals. The victims were not the best of people, but they weren't criminals, either.

Luke was at the crime scene first in order to declare the structure safe for Diana and the forensics team to enter. Other firefighters may have entered the crime scene and contaminated evidence. He could've tried to destroy the indicator of where the source of the fire was. Or, in his sick, demented mind, if Luke were Howard Stewart, then he may have wanted to see the victim one final time. Perhaps to ensure himself that she died, that she suffered a horrible death.

Diana got the chills. She took a deep breath, then jumped in her seat at the sound of her doorbell ringing.

She quickly rose from her chair and walked barefoot toward the door.

As she peeked through the peephole, panic set in. Luke was there.

Oh, shit! What should I do? He doesn't know I know this stuff about him. I'm not certain any of it is true. I need to remain calm and keep an open mind.

She opened the door. “What are you doing here?"

"It's very rude not to return someone's phone messages. Especially once they've reached five or more.” He walked right by her, entering her apartment uninvited.

She stood near the door, still holding it open.

"Did I invite you in?"

"How does it feel, Detective Pellino?"

He scanned the apartment, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He gave her the once over from her bare feet to her eyes. She reached back to close the door but remained in front of it.

"What is so important that you decided to invade my home at 11:00 p.m.?"

"I hear you've been getting the same attitude and warnings that I've been getting."

"What do you mean?"

He took a step closer.

"You know damn well what I mean.” Luke raised his voice in obvious anger. Diana prepared for an attack.

Luke seemed to pick up on her body language, indicating her fear of him.

"They sent you something, too?"

"Who is they, and what are you referring to?"

She was careful not to divulge any information. For all she knew, the killer stood in her apartment. The thought made her sick. She didn't believe it. She couldn't believe it. She made love to him. It could ruin her judgment, her ability to investigate.

Luke ran a hand through his hair, then sat on the arm of the sofa.

Not noticing it before, Diana now saw the exhaustion in his expression.

"I got this email earlier. It brought up some crazy shit from my past."

He sighed, then glanced at her as if waiting for her to fill in the rest of his thoughts. She wasn't a fool. She played dumb, remained silent.

"There was this arsonist, Stewart Howard. He was responsible for multiple fires and the deaths of many people, including two of my buddies. He's why I left the job. Well, almost left it completely."

Diana held her position a few feet in front of him. She could tell he was genuinely upset. She thought about his words, the sadness in his voice at the loss of his friends.

"Someone is trying to say that Stewart Howard is our suspect."

Diana was shocked, to say the least. She wanted to tell him someone was accusing him of being Stewart Howard.

"What do you have on this guy Howard? What can you tell me about him?"

"I don't have much. I've worked hard to uncover very little about him. He's really good. He's evaded capture for years. Sometimes, I think he died in one of the last fires he set because they suddenly stopped. It was as if he disappeared off the face of the planet. Doesn't make sense he'd choose now to make a comeback."

"Why not now? If he knows that you are an arson investigator, then maybe he planned the fire in your honor?"

"Why kill Barbara and Lee? What does that mean?"

"Maybe he was angry at the lack of response to his mission.” Diana walked casually around the room but kept her gaze on Luke. “Perhaps he feels that the world is an ungrateful place. Maybe he thinks that work ethics have been lost, lazy people are all around him. Maybe he wants to rid society of the weak?"

Luke stood up and pointed at her. “Someone sent you the tapes? Someone is trying to pin this on me."

"Calm down.” She stepped back, and he took two steps toward her. He was inches from where she stood.

"I'm not the killer, Diana. I swear to you, I'm not the killer."

"Why did you go after Brian, Don, and the others from his company? Why did you have them reprimanded?"

"They fucked up. They probably stomped all over some potential evidence to find the real killer."

"You were there, too. You had to walk through to make sure the structure was safe."

"What?"

"You walked through first, Luke. It was your job as the fire marshal to ensure the structure was safe before I, or forensics, were allowed inside."

"I don't believe this. I'm not the killer."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her close to him. He stared at her. She tried to remain calm.

"Let go of me."

"Not until you hear me out and tell me that you believe me."

"Your actions right now are questionable."

He took a deep breath, then released his hold on her. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and took another breath.

"I'm sorry. Can't you see what this is doing to me? I put the past behind me, moved on with my life, and now someone is trying to mess with my mind, my career, and my life."."

"Who would want to do that besides half the firefighters in the FDNY right now?"

"That's the whole thing. I don't think this is a joke. I think the real killer got wind of my past. He's thorough, and he wants to set me up for his crimes. Think about it. I know the person sent you the files and the tapes. I could see it in your eyes the moment you opened the door. You have your doubts that I'm telling the truth."