Fire Angel (22 page)

“I'm sorry about last night,” he said self-consciously. “I'd forgotten that stuff was there. I shouldn't have snapped at you … ”

“No Jake, please don't apologize. I had no business in your desk. I'm the one in the wrong; and I'm sorry.”

“Those memories are still really raw for me; I overreacted. Will you print any of those?” he indicated her digital camera; he was uncomfortable with her apology because he had definitely been the one in the wrong. He should have told her about Irena days ago.

“Oh, yes; I have some wonderful shots. I'll email them to you as soon as I've downloaded them. I don't know if you noticed, but I sent you the pictures I took at the crime scenes.”

“As a matter of fact, I was looking at them earlier. I was interested in the angle of the shots, and I saw the shiny spot on the floor. You're right; compared to the other scenes, it's out of place. I did verify that any candles belonged to the arsonist. I spoke to Luke last night. He only uses battery power at the cabin. He thinks candles are too dangerous. Come on in,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulder and turning her towards the door, praying that she wouldn't reject his touch.

“You look like a frozen fairy princess. Your nose is pink. Minette has breakfast ready for us. The roads are plowed and salted, and we can go to the second fire scene as soon as you're ready. The police and firefighters will meet us there around half past ten. We have the press briefing at the station at ten o'clock.”

Alexis let him lead her into the apartment. Once inside, she pulled away and removed her coat and boots while he did the same.

Minette smiled at them. “Good morning! I didn't know how long you'd be. Will you want to take a packed lunch with you today?”

“No; I think we'll stop by the coffee shop for lunch,” answered Jake. “I'm sure that after Alexis finishes at the house, she'll want to go to the station and check on her samples. Everett says we can't go through the shelter until tomorrow. The safety inspector has to sign off on it first, and with the snow, he hasn't had time to get in there. Do you need anything from town?”

“Actually, I could use some Christmas mints for the reception desk, and those chocolate foil-covered balls Mila likes with the peanut butter inside. If you're going to the bulk food store, you can always pick up a couple of pieces of Turkish Delight.”

Jake made a face. “Yuck! I don't understand why you like that stuff — it tastes like after-shave.”

“Maybe, I like after-shave, or rather, those who wear it.” She laughed.

Minette placed a plate of toast on the table and removed covers from bacon, eggs, and hash browns.

“Help yourselves. Leave the dishes; I'll clean up later.” She kissed Jake on the cheek.

“Be careful in that house. Your leg is working well; you don't want to hurt yourself. You be careful too, Alexis. We wouldn't want anything to happen to you either.”

“Where's the rug rat?” asked Jake as she moved towards the door connecting the apartment to the inn.

“I can take her with me, if you like, and leave her at the station for an hour or so; you know how Lynette likes to spoil her. She was asking about you the other day. I forgot to tell you. She said something about rum balls you promised to make for the reception after the church play.”

“Yikes! I forgot. I'll need unsweetened cocoa too. Mila is playing with Hannah Doig again; Max came for her around eight. She'll be back for supper.”

Alexis stood and excused herself to get her gear. After Minette had left, the atmosphere had been tense, with each lost in thought, and breakfast had been finished quickly.

They're good together,
she thought.
You can see that they care deeply; there's more than love there; there's respect. When Jake is ready to let go of Irena, Minette will be there for him.
She hoped to find that for herself one day.

Once she was ready, Alexis left the apartment and went out to the reception area. Randy was on the desk.

“Hi, Ms. Michaels; your friend left another message for you,” he said handing her the envelope.

“Where did you find this?” she asked.

“It was on the desk with the mail,” he answered and shrugged.

Jake had brought the truck to the front door and honked the horn to get her attention. She hurried out to the vehicle.

“Ready?” he asked when she opened the door.

“Whenever you are; he gave me another note.” She was wearing gloves, so she tore a side of the envelope off in order not to disturb any DNA evidence on it. She read aloud.

Alexis,

You should have listened. I thought you were smarter than that.

Now, you leave me no choice, and I won't miss the next time.

As usual, all of this is your fault.

Fire Angel

Jake scowled. “That's strange, definitely a death threat, but from the look on your face and the sound of your voice, he's pushed some other buttons. What is it?”

“My uncle,” she whispered. “‘As usual, all of this is your fault,' that's what he always said before he hit me.” She shivered, that “someone just walked over her grave” feeling strong and disconcerting.

“I'm sorry, Alexis. Everett is meeting us at the house later today; he's testifying in North Bay this morning. He needs to see this. I want to check out all of James' friends again. This is someone who knew the family well enough to have heard your uncle threaten you. Let's put off the visit to the flophouse until later.”

She deliberately squared her shoulders and set her mouth; anger simmered just below the surface, and she fought hard to keep it in check.

“Jake, stop treating me like I'm made of spun glass. I've wasted enough time as it is. You'll be there, two police officers and two firefighters, and I'm wearing my gun. I refuse to be bullied away from doing my job. If you like, you can go to the station and look through the files, but I need to see the fire scene. We're running out of time.”

“Then we go there together. I can look at the files afterwards. I'm your damn partner, Alexis. I won't let you shut me out of this.”

She had angered him, the last thing she had meant to do. She would get herself killed one of these days if she didn't get rid of that chip on her shoulder and accept help when she needed it. She didn't answer. What could she say?

“Damn,” cursed Jake. “I forgot my Bluetooth.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone and tossed it to her. “Call Everett and leave him a message to meet us as soon as he can; tell him you've gotten another note.”

Knowing he was annoyed with her and not wanting to make things worse, Alexis made the call and then set the phone in the receptacle in the console.

The roads had been salted and sanded, and the drive into town was uneventful. Jake had tuned the radio to an easy listening channel, and Alexis used the time to organize her thoughts and plan her assault on the house.

Since they were ahead of schedule, they stopped at the food store for the candy Minette had requested. Alexis picked up a bag of black licorice, and Jake insisted on paying for it.

• • •

When they arrived at the station, there were a dozen reporters waiting, two of them from the major television networks. The Fire Angel had hit the big times after his last performance.

Jake stepped up to the mike and brought Alexis up beside him.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice. I'd like to introduce Special Agent Alexis Michaels, from Vulcan International Fire and Arson Investigators. She has been instrumental in helping us with this case. Although we don't have a suspect in custody as of yet, we are getting close. What I'd like to do this morning is give you an updated profile. If you have any information that you believe might lead to the solving of this case, please call the station.” He opened the folder containing his notes.

“Our suspect is a local man between the ages of 30 and 40. He is a smoker and has extensive hunting and camping experience and is familiar with Temagami methods of survival. He is intelligent and well-versed in chemistry, home maintenance, and a number of arson techniques, as well as minor demolition. He comes and goes as he pleases and hand-picks his targets, drugs them, and poses them in various scenarios mimicking the acts in a play. By our count, he has completed Act Four.”

Alexis had confirmed this after examining the photos. He continued his briefing.

“He is detail oriented, pre-selecting the locations of his fires, and executing the events with precision. He needs time to put his elaborate plans into place, and is on a strict timetable — his fires occur monthly, during the full moon phase, and his next target date is likely December 27, give or take three days.” He stopped to give the reporters, who were using pen and paper, time to catch up.

“He is a man on a mission. His selected targets appear to have been chosen because they have wronged him in some way. Only some of the dead were targeted. The others were collateral damage, and unless we catch him, he will not stop until his mission is accomplished.”

There was a gasp from the crowd, and Jake realized how disturbing his words might be; the man he was describing was a monster out of someone's worst nightmares.

“We believe that he has killed before, without the use of fire, and will revert to his other methods if pushed. This is an incredibly dangerous man. He doesn't care how many innocent people he kills to satisfy his agenda. Thank you. I'll take questions now.”

“Oliver Smith from the
Citizen
. You say that he has completed Act Four of his revenge drama. Does that mean you think he has only one fire left to meet his agenda?”

“I'm not sure; he could have an epilogue, but one more major fire seems to fit what we have learned about him so far.”

Jake watched the crowd as he answered questions, knowing that Everett and Alexis were doing the same thing. They looked to see who took an interest in the proceedings and paid close attention to the type of questions asked. He frowned. If the Fire Angel was there, he was being particularly quiet.

• • •

When they finally arrived at the house on Sycamore, there were two firefighters and two uniformed officers waiting for them out front. Alexis recognized Pierre and Patrick despite the heavy coats they wore. She looked around the older, middle-class neighborhood. It seemed like a strange place for a cheap boarding house, but if the owners were absentee landlords, they might not realize who their tenants were and what state the house was in.

“Good morning, Jake, Ms. Michaels. I'm Jackson,” said one of the firemen. “Cal and I have been through the building and it seems sound enough, but the kitchen ceiling is pretty weak. We blocked off the stairway to the attic, so if you're not going up there, it should be fine. Since the freezing rain and snow this week, the roof is in even worse shape; it wouldn't take much for it to come crashing down. I don't know how anyone managed to live in this dump.”

“Call me Alexis,” she smiled and offered her hand which he took. “Is there a hole cut in the ceiling?”

“There are several holes in the ceiling, a couple of them go through to the roof, but I can't tell you when they were made. The roof is full of weak spots. A squirrel or pigeon could have fallen through in places. Some of them could have been made before the fire; we cut a couple to prevent backdrafts. This place has really been neglected. While I'm sure that a pre-cut hole in the roof would have fueled the fire, its overall condition above the kitchen would have made it unnecessary. The kitchen and porch are additions to the original structure. Most of the rest of the place didn't suffer much damage other than smoke.”

The bungalow sat at the end of the street; despite the blanket of snow, she could see that its exterior and yard were in desperate need of care. She could only assume that, despite what Jackson had said, the inside of the building would be as bad. She thanked him, made a notation in her book, and walked back to Jake, who stood talking to Pierre Leduc. No doubt he had told them about the note. Patrick was on the radio.

Jake smiled when he saw her walking towards him.

“We've requested additional back-up, just in case. No one will get in your way; they'll just secure the perimeter. Ready?” he asked.

She nodded. She wore her yellow coveralls and had used her puffer in the truck. A mask hung around her neck.

“Come on; I'll take you through.”

“What about your leg?”

“I'm handicapped, not useless, Alexis. I told you earlier; I'm your partner, and I'll watch your back.” The muscle in his jaw tensed. “I can manage a reasonably flat surface.”

“Jake, I'm sorry; I wasn't implying anything of the kind, and I didn't mean to insult you again. I was just remembering what Minette said.”

“Minette worries too much; where I go and what I do is my business not hers. Now, are you coming or not?” He stormed off towards the house.

By the time they entered the structure Jake was all business. He pointed out the hallway leading to the back bedrooms where the construction workers had been found. This part of the house showed minimal damage, nothing more than the smoke and water you would expect from a kitchen fire, but she had seen cleaner pigpens.

They entered the kitchen. The thought occurred to her that this had also been a controlled burn.

“We haven't been able to figure out exactly how he did it, so maybe you'll have some theories about that, but we think that the Molotov cocktail came through that door.” Jake pointed to the aluminum door at the back of the kitchen; the window had been smashed and the screen was torn. “The guys were sitting at this table.”

He took out the crime scene photos and showed her the positioning of the skeletal remains. She had seen the photos earlier in the week, but they still made her shiver. You could see where the men had tried to shield their faces. How horrible it must have been for them knowing they were doomed. She looked around the room again, and then returned the photos to the envelope and placed it in her pink case.