Page 82 of Her Braun
Gibson turned around and saw a woman waiting on the sidewalk. She was waving at him and trying to get by Mats who was trying to get her to keep back from the hoses.
He walked up to talk to the older woman and when she walked towards him, Gibson could see Mats' visible relief.
"Ma'am? Is there something you need to say?"
"Yes, sir. Are you in charge?"
Gibson looked over at the chief who was in deep conversation with Isaac at the edge of the property.
He looked back at her and nodded. "I'm a lieutenant with the CCFD, ma'am."
She seemed relieved by his words. "Good. I think there's something wrong."
He looked back at the house and saw the roof buckling in and the frame of the house gave a loud belly-aching groan.
Gibson looked back at the woman. "Yes, ma'am. I'm afraid that we're not going to be able to save the house."
"No no," she waved a hand dismissively at the house. "I'm sure that it's going to burn to the ground."
"Okay. Then what are you talking about, ma'am?"
She crooked her finger for him to move closer and even though he thought it was a strange request, he leaned closer. "I think he did it on purpose."
"Burning the house?"
She nodded, a very serious bob of her head. "Both of them went to work this morning and then the son came back a little while ago. And when he left it was less than an hour when I smelled the fire."
"Oh. So you think the fire was intentionally set."
"I'm sure of it. The boy is trouble. He's always giving his father fits."
"What's his name, ma'am?"
"Him? The boy?"
He nodded. "Yes. If we know his name I can give it to the police so they can investigate."
The older woman frowned, her eyes narrowing as she thought.
"Did they move in recently?" Gibson wondered a loud. That might explain her confusion.
She shook her head. "No. No. The family has been here as long as I can remember but for the last decade or so it's just the man and his son and his son," she shook her head, her lips pressed in a thin line, "is a real problem. He makes his father so... tense. I never see his father smile anymore."
Gibson reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. "What's the name of the family, ma'am?"
The older woman frowned and shook her head. "Oh dear..." she tapped her index finger against her lips and hummed under her breath. "It's my memory..." She sighed, "things keep slipping out of my head." She brightened a moment later, snapping her fingers. "I remember his name!"
Gibson held up the pad of paper and had his pen poised to write it down. "Yes?"
"Charles! His first name is Charles."
She seemed so happy that Gibson almost didn't reply back, but he knew he needed more information.
"Charles? Is that the father or the son?"
The older woman stared at him, her brows raising slowly up above her eyes. "Well, both."
Both.
