Page 19 of Single Mom's Firemen

They welcomed him with arms wide open. The man is an expert on anything arson related. While in the service, he successfully assisted the Military Police with a couple of investigations, saving the Navy a ton of bad publicity when one of their sailors turned out to be a serial arsonist.

“Guys, it’s gonna take a while to comb through all of this footage,” Charlie says, sitting behind his desk as he connects the portable hard drive to his work computer.

We’re in the bullpen of the Arson squad. It’s more crowded than usual but Eric and I have found ourselves a couple of guest chairs to use, sitting close to Charlie as he turns the media player on.

There’s been a spike in fires lately, according to him, most of them for insurance purposes. I wonder if that’s what happened with the diner.

“What’s the word on Rhonda Langston, the diner owner?” I ask him.

“She doesn’t have any priors. I had her financial checked, they seemed to be doing alright,” Charlie replies. “They were behind on the last quarter where the IRS is concerned, but nothing that would warrant cashing in on the fire insurance. No personal issues, either. No unexpected medical problems, nothing like that.”

“Halle mentioned that her son’s ranch was starting to pick up. Out of state visitors, paying a pretty penny for horse rides and the whole cowboy experience,” Eric says.

“So you can rule Rhonda Langston out,” I conclude, and Charlie nods in agreement.

“Without motive, it’s highly unlikely she had anything to do with it. Typically, fire insurance doesn’t cover all of the rebuilding costs. She’ll have to use personal funds. That’s what she told us during the interview, anyway.”

“But you do agree that the fire was intentionally set, right?” Eric asks.

Charlie nods again. “Your eyes never lie, buddy. You spotted the accelerant traces before the CSUs were even done with bagging and tagging everything. It’s arson, plain and simple. We just need to figure out who did it and why. I’m hoping the camera footage will give us something. Now, let’s see, what am I looking at here?”

We shift our focus to the computer screen. The video shows an angle of the diner’s parking lot, along with the building itself. I can see the lights are on in Halle’s apartment and I check the time stamp. “Parking lot. This is one of the cameras from next door. A hardware shop.”

“I got the neighbor’s footage too. The office building on 7th,” Eric says.

“Cool. A frontal view, albeit grainy as hell, given the distance,” Charlie mutters.

“It’s eight p.m.,” I say. “According to Halle, she’d already sent the kids upstairs.”

Charlie’s eyes squint, his finger on the mouse to zoom deeper into the moving image. It’s definitely low resolution but we can still make out the basics. “Right. So the kids are upstairs, Halle is in the diner with one last customer.”

“Marty, the candle dude. Your CSUs already confirmed that the fire didn’t start from the candles, if I remember correctly.”

“The starting point was at the front door,” Charlie mutters. “Man, I wish we had footage from inside the diner.”

“What about physical evidence?” I ask as we all watch the seemingly quiet evening unfold. “According to Halle, she wasn’t in the storage room for more than ten minutes, but she doesn’t remember exactly when she heard the bell chime with Marty’s exit.”

“There are approximately five to six minutes from when Marty says he left and when Halle recalls coming out of the storage room. Therefore, there’s a fifteen-to-sixteen-minute window during which time somebody poured the accelerant and set the diner on fire. The starting point was right at the front door. Someone had to have gone in.”

“The door was on an automatic lock, though,” Eric remembers. “Nobody else could get in.”

Charlie scrolls through the footage until we see Marty walking across the parking lot. A tall and lumpy shadow, but it’s definitely him. Eric points at the screen to Marty’s left. “Look here. Movement.”

We all see it.

Somebody sneaks behind Marty unnoticed. Marty goes on about his business, getting in his car and driving off. Then we see movement again. The same figure moves along the edge of the parking lot, carrying something.

“That has to be the canister,” Charlie notices first. It’s red and square.

The figure pours the fluid at the front door then continues around the diner before coming full circle and setting the fire. Flames can be seen flashing on the screen. “Motherfucker,” I mumble, realizing that this is attempted murder. “He knew she was in there.”

“Look at him run,” Eric mumbles.

He bolts away from the diner and disappears out of the frame, somewhere across the street. He’s out of sight, while the fire ravages the ground floor. “It only took a handful of minutes,” Charlie concludes. “This means he watched the place. He knew what he was dealing with. It was timed and calculated.”

“Therefore deliberate,” I add.

My brother and I exchange nervous glances while Charlie pauses the footage and looks at us. “I’ll keep looking. I’ll check every possible angle but I’m gonna reach out to my buddies with traffic, too. Maybe we can get a partial or full plate of the car. The mook had to drive himself out of there, and fast.”

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