“I didn’t say come in.” He frowned and folded his arms across his chest, letting them rest on his belly.
“Good thing I decided not to wait for an invite.” I took a seat in the chair across from him. “I’ve left a couple of messages, but they must’ve gotten accidentally deleted.”
His frown deepened. “I got them.”
“You didn’t return them because...” I tilted my head to the side.
His left bushy eyebrow rose. “Since I’ve been busy working other cases. Real cases. Actual arsons. You did hear about the arson over on Calbert Street, didn’t you?”
“Sure did. It was a nasty thing. Station Eight got that call, I believe.”
He nodded. “Then I also assume you heard the husband did it. For the insurance money, of course.”
I shrugged. “Yup. What does that have to do with the fires I called you about?”
“Listen now.” He pointed a thick finger at me. “You are not my damn boss. I don’t answer to you.”
“Do you answer to the residents of this city?” I clenched my jaw thinking about the people who’ve been injured or killed from this maniac arsonist running loose in the city. “What about injured firefighters? Do you answer to them because I’ve got a friend who has a fucking missing leg because of this arsonist you refuse to investigate.”
I fought for calm by pinching the bridge of my nose and inhaling deeply. It wouldn’t do me any good to get riled up and get into a fight with this guy. He was the investigator I had to report to. Without his assistance, I couldn’t get the resources I needed to dig deeper into the case.
His eyes narrowed. “Are you insinuating I don’t care about my fellow firefighters?”
I looked him straight in the eye. “Those are your words, not mine. I am insinuating, however, that maybe, just maybe, you overlooked something. That fire that injured Corey was not an accident. That beam falling on him was intentional.”
“I did a thorough investigation of that fire and determined it was accidental.”
“How thorough could your investigation have been when salvage and overhaul were on the scene within hours of putting the fire out?”
“Whose fault is that?” he accused.
I clenched my hands into fists. Murray was right. It was my job to say whether a fire looked suspicious on any of our calls. The night of Corey’s injury, I’d been too overwhelmed with concern for his well-being to stop and assess the scene after we extinguished the fire.
I’d rushed off to get to the station and change so that I could get to the hospital.
That was my fuck up. And more guilt to add to the fact that I’d let my best friend down that night.
“Your determination is wrong,” I said flatly.
His cheeks reddened as he balled his face. “Have there been any other incidents? No other firefighters have gotten injured at Rescue Four since that night, right?”
I nodded begrudgingly.
“Then this theory of yours that someone is targeting your squad doesn’t ring true.”
“Not yet.” I stood, no longer able to hold back my contempt for this guy. “What about the 911 call?”
He didn’t have an immediate answer. His eyes narrowed as if my question stumped him.
“The call that brought us to that house. The caller said there was a woman and her two children inside, yet we found no one.”
Murray tossed the pen he held onto his desk, seeming frustrated with my comeback. “That call could’ve been from a neighbor who thought the occupants of the home were there.”
“But they weren’t, and that neighbor hasn’t come forward. Whoever made that call is probably the one who started the fire.”
“You’re making up stories because of your guilt, Alvarez. I heard you and Stephens are close, so naturally, you feel responsible about what happened.”
I stepped forward and scowled at him. “You don’t know shit about what I feel. Don’t even go there with me.”
