I snapped my gaze up to meet my father’s. He frowned as he shifted his positioning watching me assessing.
“That guilt you still carry over what happened to your mother, you’re carrying the same guilt over Corey,” he said. “I can see it.”
I swallowed what felt like a brick stuck in my throat, I responded with, “I should’ve—”
“Shoulda, woulda, coulda. The world is full of those three. I shouldn’t have forgotten to give your mother her sleeping medication that night, right?”
“Dad.” The word came out harsher than I’d intended.
He sighed. “You’re going to have to let it go at some point. Tell me more about this case.”
He jutted his head toward the phone I clutched in my hand.
After I pulled up the images, I handed him the phone to get a look at them.
“If you look closely at the edge, it looks like someone sawed it or something.”
“Hmm.”
I held my breath, knowing better not to rush my father to any conclusions.
Finally, he looked up at me. “You know fire better than I do, son. If you think this was done on purpose, then it’s likely you’re right. What can I help you with?”
“I need your help in building a profile of this guy.” My father wasn’t a fire investigator, but he’d been a hell of a detective for over twenty years. He’d learned a lot about people in his career.
“This person uses fire to murder and maim.” He stared down at the pictures again. A contemplative beat passed before he said, “Definitely male.”
I’d already drawn that conclusion, but it was good to hear him confirm it.
“Something like half of all arsonists are under eighteen, right?” He lifted his gaze from the phone.
“They are.”
“But for something like this? Nah.” He shook his head. “This took planning, time, and logistics. A teen arsonist wouldn’t have that type of impulse control. He’s over eighteen. Maybe early to mid-twenties at the youngest. He targets women alone with their children?”
I agreed. “He’s got some sort of vendetta. These fires are about revenge. Do you think he targeted Rescue Four specifically?”
“It’s possible.”
“He’s got a lot of anger.” I gritted my teeth and then pushed out a harsh breath. “He might be able to control himself for a time, keeping a low profile and spacing these fires out, but he’s going to snap.”
“I wish I could give you more to work with.” He passed the phone back to me. “You need more evidence, Don.”
Standing, I shoved my phone in my back pocket. “I know, but the brass doesn’t think it’s true so they’re not willing to put more resources into it. I can barely gain access to the images the investigators were supposed to take at the other fires.”
My father stood as well. “That’s where you need to start. The pictures don’t lie. From what you’ve told me, I would give you a loose profile of a male, twenty-two to mid-thirties, maybe. He’s got some serious issues with women.”
“And with Rescue Four,” I replied, drearily.
“If he is targeting you, yup. Don?”
I braced myself, knowing I wasn’t going to like the next words that came out of my father’s mouth.
“I know you don’t want to hear it, and as much as I hate to even say it, I have to.”
I waited.
“There’s a real possibility he’s got some sort of connection to the fire department.”
