Page 95 of Into the Fire

Not necessarily. Or even likely, if the blaze was bad enough.

But if Marc believed otherwise, a trite, placating comment would do nothing to assuage his guilt.

Bri laced her fingers together on the table. “Did your grandparents think that too?”

“No. They didn’t know I’d pressured my dad to let me go camping. In fact, they were grateful I wasn’t home. Nan always said that losing all three of us would have destroyed her and Pops. She considered it a blessing I was gone that weekend.”

It was clear from his tone he didn’t share that opinion.

“Did the fire investigators figure out what happened?”

“Yes. There was abundant evidence of arson. Several points of origin outside the house, and indications an accelerant had been used. The house was wood and very old. It didn’t take much to set it ablaze. It was also on a large lot and backed to a park, so an arsonist could do his work in relative isolation and escape without detection.”

“But why would someone set your house on fire?”

“That was never determined. If you want my opinion, though, I think it was connected to the story my dad was working on that involved a local crime boss who was shaking down restaurant owners in certain areas of the city for ‘street taxes.’”

“Were the police able to find any evidence linking it to him?”

“No. Nor to anyone else. The case was never solved. That’s why from day one on my job there’s been a folder on mycomputer desktop with everything I’ve been able to piece together about the fire.”

“Did you join the ATF because of your parents?”

Marc finished his soda and crimped the empty can with his fingers. “I was interested in law enforcement anyway, but the fire pushed me toward the ATF and fire investigation. Justice wasn’t done in my parents’ case, and I didn’t want to see that happen to anyone else.”

“Are you still searching for answers?”

“No. I haven’t opened the file since the crime boss died five years ago. Not that I think he set the fire. That job would have been assigned to an underling. But every lead I found led to a dead end or dried up. I finally had to make peace with the reality that the arsonist would never be found.”

He may have tried to do that, but he hadn’t succeeded. Not if the folder remained on his desktop, continuing to stoke his guilt.

“I don’t know what more you could have done, Marc.”

“Except been there the night of the fire.”

“You might not have survived, either.”

His eyes grew bleak. “You want the truth? There have been days I think that would have been a better outcome.”

A pang of tenderness echoed in her heart for the grieving, guilt-ridden little boy who lived inside the strong, capable, determined man across from her.

“Did your grandparents know how you felt?”

“No. In the beginning, I was afraid they’d blame me if I told them. That they wouldn’t want me around. And I had nowhere else to go.”

“Based on everything you’ve said about them, I don’t think that was a realistic worry.”

“It wasn’t. But by the time I realized that, I’d also realized that if I shared my fears and doubts, they’d hurt for me worse than they already did—and they’d endured more than theirshare of suffering. So I kept everything inside.” He set his mangled can aside and twined his strong fingers with hers. “Until now.”

At his touch, her respiration went haywire—but she made a yeoman’s effort to remain focused on their conversation. “How did your grandparents feel about the case remaining unsolved?”

“They handled it with more grace than I did. They believed the police did everything possible to track down the perpetrator, and they found solace in their faith. They prayed for comfort, and that whoever had set the fire would repent and seek forgiveness. But that prayer was never answered.”

“Maybe it was. Maybe he did repent.”

Marc’s jaw hardened. “If he did, it was between him and God. He never came forward to pay the legal price for his crime. That’s not justice.”

No, it wasn’t. And she wouldn’t try to convince him otherwise. In his place, she’d feel the same.

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