Page 25 of Into the Fire

“I can confirm he had bad allergies. Whenever we had occasion to be in a car together, he kept the windows closed tight and the air cranked up, even on cool days.” The indentations on Sarge’s forehead deepened. “The open window at his house is an anomaly.”

“Unless someone wanted extra ventilation to stoke a fire, and a breeze to push the curtains toward the flames in the trash.” May as well put her hunch on the table.

He tapped his index fingers together, his expression noncommittal. “An open window isn’t proof of deadly intent.”

“No, but the other facts that have surfaced could indicate my suspicions have merit.”

“What’s the ATF’s take on all this?”

Bri straightened a stack of papers on her desk. He would ask about that. “I just passed on the new information. I may meet with the agent to discuss it tomorrow.”

“Good. It can’t hurt to get input from an experienced third party who has no personal connection to the case.” He stood. “Did you ever figure out why Les wanted to meet with you?”

“No, but his daughter did find this in his wallet.” She picked up the slip of paper from her desk and handed it to him. “Does it mean anything to you?”

Sarge studied it. “All I see is a list of numbers and letters.”

Drat.

“That’s all I see too.” That’s all anyone she’d shown it to throughout the day had seen.

So unless Marc had a thought or two to offer about Les’s jottings, the cryptic note would be useless. And any hope that the retired fire investigator had information in his locked safe relevant to their meeting had been dashed with a follow-up phone call to Sandra, who said she’d found nothing but personal papers inside. If there was other pertinent printedmaterial, it had probably been in his desk—and that had been destroyed. As had the hard drive on his laptop.

Sarge propped his fists on his hips. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but unless you find some concrete evidence soon to support your suspicions, we’ll have to back-burner further investigation.”

No, she did not want to hear that.

“I may discover a few other avenues to explore.” Hopefully ones that weren’t dead ends, as every trail so far had been.

“You remind me of Les.” Her boss hitched up one side of his mouth, extracted a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and held it out. “On a different subject, would you touch base with this guy? He’s the father of a victim in a fire Les investigated a few months back. Apparently he was in contact with Les on a regular basis. The fire was ruled accidental, but he’s not satisfied with that conclusion. He saw the story about Les in the paper and wanted to connect with someone here. Make sure we don’t drop the ball.”

Bri stifled a sigh. One more item to add to her to-do list. “What’s his beef?” She took the paper.

“He suspects foul play.”

Wonderful. Now she had two suspicious fires to deal with.

“What kind of case was it?”

“House fire back in April. Victim was a Michelle Thomas.”

“I’ll review Les’s case report and call”—she consulted the paper—“Mr. Wallace.”

“Thanks. Seemed logical to have you follow up, since you’re involved in Les’s case. Have a great weekend.”

As he disappeared out the door, she set the slip of paper on the desk. James Wallace would have to wait for a reply until Monday.

Because for once, she wasn’t taking work home for the weekend. She was going to walk out this door tonight and chill for the next two days.

Except for a possible meeting with Marc tomorrow.

That could heat up her weekend—if she was able to convince herself that spending an hour with him qualified more as work than pleasure.

A fifty-fifty chance at best.

BRI TUCKER WASTROUBLE.

And someone who caused trouble deserved trouble in return.