Page 68 of Arsonist's Match
“That’s right.” Edwards shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
McCulloch couldn’tjust sit there and be quiet. He had to grab some of the glory for himself. “Are you acquainted with a young man named Simon Neel?”
“Simon Neel …” He cupped his chin, attempting a look of concentration.
“Yes, your neighbor and best friend’s son, Simon,” Athena prodded, shooting McCulloch a perturbed look. “You and Patrick Neel grew up together, were in the same class, played Little League. You were the best man at his wedding.”
“Oh!” Edward’s expression perked up. “ThatSimon Neel.”
As if Simon Neels grew on trees.“Yes, that Simon Neel.” Athena resisted an eye roll.
“I lost track of him after Patrick and the kid’s mother divorced. Then Patrick joined the Army and …” He hesitated, lowering his face in genuine-looking sorrow. “He didn’t come back from Afghanistan.”
“And you never once checked in on his boy?” McCulloch’s tone was dark and accusatory, putting Edwards on the defensive.
“I figured he was OK. His mom had remarried, and he had a father figure in his life. He didn’t need me poking around.” His guilty expression didn’t match his excuse.
“So, you haven’t seen or talked to him since he was a kid?” Athena proposed.
She watched as Edwards formulated a response, his expression pensive, jaw ticking. “I might have run into him a few years ago when he entered the fire academy training program. Didn’t recognize him at first. Why are you asking about Simon?”
Claiming not to have seen Neel for over fifteen years would have been too easy to disprove—especially with what Shoops had discovered.
“Might have?” Athena questioned doubtfully. She took out a roster from five years ago. “In November of 2019, you did a rotation teaching a class at the fire academy. Hazardous Materials Awareness. Neel was a student in your class—the year he washed out. Ringing any bells?”
“Oh, yes, that’s right.” Edwards ran a hand over his bristled hair, shaking it off with a nervous laugh. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“That’s surprising,” McCulloch interjected. He’d studied the file. “Since you went to bat for him, argued with the academy chief to give him another chance, even though he clearly lacked the skills or discipline for the job. Is that because you felt guilty for abandoning him to his fate with an abusive stepfather and alcoholic mother when he was a little boy?”
“Hey, wait a minute here.” Edwards’ muscles tensed as he glared at McCulloch, a man around his same age who’d risen higher in his profession. He might have been old school when it came to women serving in the bureau, but Athena had to admit her peer was a solid agent.
“I didn’t abandon Simon,” he declared.
“What would you call it then?” A disdainful frown appeared beneath McCulloch’s mustache, and his bushy brows narrowed.
Edwards’ chin jutted up in defiance, and his nostrils flared. “I didn’t have the slightest idea what was going on in that house. They presented as a perfectly normal family.”
“Abusers usually do,” Athena commented, drawing his attention back to her. “So, after you couldn’t keep him in the program, where he might have followed in your footsteps, what’d you do? Promise you’d be there if he needed you in the future? You had to feel like you owed the kid something.”
“I don’t understand. What do you think Simon did?” Edwards searched Athena’s eyes before shifting to McCulloch.
“It’s not what I think,” Athena laid out, “it’s what I can prove, some of which he’s admitted to already. Six counts of arson, three homicides, and the attempted murder of three federal agents and one Houston Firefighter.”
“What?” Color drained from an astonished face. “He sent me a frantic call, just before the alarm bells went off. Said he was trying to vandalize the office at Synergy because they fired his girlfriend and sent him away with a scathing rebuke when he applied for her job. He swore the fire was an accident—begged me to cover for him.”
“Then you’re as gullible and stupid as you are misogynistic and incompetent.” Athena unleashed her contempt, her blazing glare enough to burn a hole in him. “A little over a week ago, he struck again at Lone Star Manufacturing, where two employees were killed. He cut off the sprinklers and disarmed the fire alarms. It’s a miracle more people didn’t fall victim to his rampage. Your friend’s son is a pyromaniac, Lieutenant Edwards, and this afternoon he lit himself on fire. If it wasn’t for Flash, he’d be in the morgue instead of a hospital. Is that how you help a disturbed young man—by lying to keep him out of trouble? If you’d come clean, two people would be holding their loved ones close during this hurricane, and Simon would be receiving treatment in a psych ward instead of a burn ward.”
Athena watched Edwards break, transitioning from astonished disbelief to agonizing grief in an instant. He buried his face in his palms and wept.
“I didn’t know,” he sobbed. “I swear, I didn’t know.” Glancing up through tear-streaked eyes, he ventured, “is he …?”
“The doctor expects him to recover from his burns,” she answered, sparing no sympathy for the firefighter who broke his oath. “As for the rest, time will tell. As foryou.” She leveled an icy glare at him, sharp enough to slice through steel. “Chief Burks has relieved you of your post for gross misconduct, criminal activity, and violation of department policy. Furthermore, I am placing you under arrest for aiding and abetting a felon, obstruction of justice, and lying to federal agents. Your attorney can explain these charges to you and help you mount a proper defense. If you don’t have your own lawyer, the courts will appoint one for you at no cost. McCulloch, would you please finish Mirandizing this …” She waved a disgusted hand at him. “Person. If I stay in here any longer, I risk losing my temper, something I pride myself on not doing, regardless of how much the criminal deserves it.”
“Sure thing,” McCulloch answered. “Although I’m as disgusted with him as you are.”
Before Athena vacated the interview room, she whipped around to face Edwards once more, with a contemptuous sneer. “You, who acted so superior, ordering seasoned firefighters about, micromanaging their every move, aren’t fit to polish Flash Cash’s boots. She’s got ten times your courage and dedication and is a hell of a better firefighter. And, to think, if you hadn’t ridden her like an insecure imbecile, we might never have even known about Neel’s serial arsons, never caught him, never stopped him from killing more victims or himself. If you’d been a decent human being, she might never have come to me about what she saw at Synergy or taken it over your head to Captain O’Riley. In essence, you’re going to prison for being an asshole.”
With that, she spun on her three-inch heel and stormed out.
