Page 76 of Ink and Ashes
His tone is defensive, but it doesn’t faze me.
“I’ve never thought it was,” I say, and it’s the truth. I’ve never suspected any of the full-timers.
He relaxes a touch. “Okay. Then yes, I…” He lets out a sigh. “I’ll get you the files.”
I takea seat at the dining room table a few days later, Colson following behind me with the stack of files in his hands.
He hesitantly sets the pile down in front of me, and I glance from them to him. He grabbed them from the station today, and now he’s going to help me go through them all—look into everyone’s past and see if any of them fit the profile. It’s invasive and distrusting, and I know Colson’s having a hard time with the idea that it could be one of his guys.
“You don’t have to do this with me,” I tell him for the third time, knowing it won’t make a difference. “I can go through the files on my own and let you know if I find anything worth noting.”
Colson shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says firmly.
I nod, then look toward the files again.
Of the current staff at EGFD, Cass and the other paramedics are out—I know that much for sure. I’m also ninety-nine percent sure Liv, Jess, and Kelsey aren’t an option either, because the rough profile I’ve concocted based on my research points to a male between the ages of twenty-five and forty. Those parameters rule out quite a few of the other crew members—including Ray and Ollie—but age is the hardest part of a profile to predict, so I’m not willing to dismiss any of them until I’ve gone through each and every one of their files.
The only firefighters I’m certain aren’t behind these are Dom and the one standing next to me. Dom’s been too involved in the case to be the one responsible, and he’s been with me during times when they’ve received calls.
As for Colson, I technically haven’t cleared him, but I also never once considered him a suspect. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s who I’ve gotten to know the best through all this, or maybe it’s just that he doesn’t fit the profile for an arsonist. Whatever it is, though, there hasn’t been a single moment in my investigation where I’ve wondered if he could be the one setting these fires.
I’ve learned to trust my gut in this career. And despite the rocky start we got off on, my gut has always told me that I’m safe around Colson.
“Are you ready for this?” I ask cautiously, not wanting to set him off. Since he started staying across the hall, things have been good between us. But he was resistant for so long, and I know that if I say the wrong thing, we could end up right back where we started.
Colson nods, taking a seat next to me at the table.
We start by going through the files of guys who don’t volunteer for EGFD anymore. There are a few that stand out to him as potential suspects, so I start two piles: one of people we’ve cleared, and one of people to look into more. Once we’ve run through all those, we move onto the files of current volunteers.
I pull the folder off the top of the pile sitting in the middle of the table. Opening it, I find a smiling picture of Brian Finnegan staring back at me. I glance at Colson, tension flowing off him in waves as he stares at the pile of folders.
“Colson?” I say softly as I place my hand on his forearm, pulling his attention back to me.
He relaxes a bit, his mossy eyes meeting mine. “Sorry.” He glances down at the folder. “No way in hell is it Finn,” he says defensively. “He has a family that he loves more than life itself. He’s the best husband and father, and he would never jeopardize his family like that. No way.”
I nod, agreeing. I don’t know Finn all that well, but I’ve spoken to him a few times and I’ve seen his wife and daughters around over the past few weeks. He’s been kind enough to check in with me regarding the investigation, offering his help and letting me know he’s happy to help if I need anything, but not to the point where he’s desperate to be involved.
Unlike with all the other firefighters who have either given me the cold shoulder or flirted with me, Finn has seemed genuine. And from what I can tell, he’s one of the most loved guys at the station—friends with everyone, mentor to the younger guys, and good at keeping everyone in check. I couldn’t imagine him beingthe one responsible for the fires.
So I close his file and move onto the next one: Ray Morgan.
Colson speaks before I have a chance to say anything. “It isn’t Ray either. He may be an asshole, but he’s not an arsonist.”
I nod, agreeing with him. I may not like the guy, but Colson’s right, and he doesn’t fit the profile anyway.
“Okay,” I say easily, then add his file to the pile of people who are clear.
We continue to run through the files of Ace, Hayden, Mickey, Wade, and Caleb, concluding that, as I predicted, none of them fit the profile either. It isn’t until I open the file for Travis Hart that Colson pauses.
He knows Travis is on my list of potential suspects. He’s in his late thirties, doesn’t talk much, and is good at flying under the radar. He does what he’s told with no exceptions, but he also doesn’t go above and beyond in his work, not wanting to draw attention to himself. The only reason I haven’t looked at him further yet is because I’m not sure what his motivation would be. Some people are just quiet and reserved—it doesn’t make them an arsonist.
“What do you know about Travis?” I ask Colson.
He keeps his gaze trained on the file. “Hart had a difficult childhood. He was in and out of the foster system before running away at eighteen and eventually finding his way here. He does have a history of petty crimes—shoplifting, trespassing… But they were out of necessity. He was homeless with no money and trying to stay alive. Once he started working at the station, he cleaned up his act. My dad mentored him, and his record was expunged after he turned eighteen.” Colson shakes his head. “It can’t be him.”
I hesitantly set Travis’s folder on top of the pile of potential suspects. “Would you talk to your dad about him anyway?”
Colson’s jaw flexes, his hands balling into fists atop the table. I gently place my hand over his, my eyes conveying what my words can’t.
