Page 82 of Heating Up (Nugget)
“What?” she asked as he clicked off the call.
“Another suspicious fire. I’ve got to go.” Out of habit, he was primed for an argument.
“Okay,” she said. “You’ll be careful, right?”
“I always am.” He kissed her. “Sorry to wake you; go back to sleep.”
In the time it took Aidan to get to the Bun Boy, firefighters had completely contained the blaze. He was startled to see an ambulance on site. He nudged his chin at the captain in question.
“The damned fire nearly took out one of our guys. The needle fairies say Duke’s okay, but they’re taking him to Plumas District Hospital for observation.”
“Jesus.” Aidan scrubbed a hand through his hair as he watched a paramedic shut the back doors of the bus on Duke and zoom off with their lights flashing.
“The idiot doesn’t know what he’s doing half the time, but this wasn’t his fault. That fire burned fast and hot as hell.”
“Accelerant?”
“That would be my guess, but you’ll know better than me. It looks like it started in the supply closet.”
Aidan went to check it out, bumping into Rhys on the way. “Sounds like we have ourselves another one.”
“Yep,” Rhys said, “and I sure as hell don’t like it. This is the last thing we need in a dry, hot summer.”
“Roger that.”
Rhys and Aidan started for the building as a car came screeching into the parking lot. Donna jumped out even before the vehicle came to a complete halt. A man Aidan presumed was Trevor Thurston, Donna’s husband, grabbed her arm.
“What the hell happened to my drive-through?” she bellowed.
“Welcome to crazy town.” Rhys shook his head.
Aidan suppressed a grin and changed direction, hoping to head Donna off at the pass. He needed to keep the scene clear.
Trevor stuck out his hand to Aidan. “You know what happened yet?”
“Too soon.” He watched Trevor closely. “Anything you know?”
“When I left at closing time, the place didn’t look like that.” Donna pointed at the charred remains of a storage room attached to the side of the building. “I need to get in there to assess the rest of the damage.”
“Not yet,” Aidan said. “Let me have a look and I’ll get you in there as soon as possible. That room”—he motioned at the burned-out shed—“was it accessible from the outside?”
“Yes. It had a door on the outside and we kept a padlock on it,” Donna responded.
“What did you keep in there?”
“Cleaning supplies, mops, buckets, rags, nothing too exciting.”
“Okay, let me check it out. Wait here.”
He walked across the parking lot to the Bun Boy building, where the police department had set up klieg lights. Sloane was probably here somewhere. The closer he got, the stronger the scent of disinfectant became. Pine oil, which was highly combustible, had a flashpoint at or above 140 degrees Fahrenheit.
As a couple of firefighters checked for hot spots, Rhys circled the wreckage and sidled up to Aidan. “It feels different than the last one.”
“This one was more organized.” Aidan crouched down and shone his flashlight on the ground. “He came through here and went straight to the storage shed.”
Rhys examined the dirt. “I don’t see any footprints.”
“He dragged them clean.” Aidan directed Rhys’s attention toward a big tree branch on the ground. No burn marks.
