Caleb kept going until he reached the second cover. He grew quiet while he inspected it. Finally, he straightened his back. “What about your maintenance workers or the groundskeepers?”
“Our lawn crew would have been responsible for trimming the shrubs. It’s possible the maintenance manager was back here checking the dryer vents to make sure they weren’t clogged.”
“But not daily…not often enough where they would have left several sets of fresh prints,” Caleb insisted.
“No. You think someone could have been casing the joint?”
“Maybe. The footprints were made by the same person.”
“I would like to take another look at it when we get back to the house.” Harlow spun in a slow circle. “Dad remembered hearing a clanking sound and saw a flash of light while he was out walking, before he went to bed and the fire started.”
“Coming from this general direction,” David said.
“The prints could be yours,” Harlow theorized.
“I didn’t walk back here.”
“Maybe they belonged to a firefighter.”
Caleb immediately dismissed the suggestion. “Based on the report and the level of heat and flames coming from the building, there’s no way the firefighters would have been this close to the structure.”
“He’s right. The fire was too intense for anyone to have gotten this close. As far as the clanking sound, it could have been anything.”
“So, we’re back to square one,” Harlow sighed.
“Not square one. My gut tells me the footprints are some sort of clue.” Caleb tapped the top of the cover. “And maybe even these vent covers, which were mentioned in the original report, as well.”
“The next logical step is to confirm the distance from the vent cover to the wall,” David said. “I’m almost positive it’s close.”
“Meaning what?” Harlow asked.
“Maybe something. Maybe nothing.”
Using his cell phone, Caleb snapped photos of the covers, the side of the building, the narrow space between the wall and shrubs and then took a panoramic shot of the entire area.
After finishing, the trio returned to what had been the front entrance. Picking through the rubble, they entered the foyer and walked along the hall until they reached the door leading to the manager’s unit.
David and Caleb made their way inside while Harlow hung back, a feeling of incredible sadness and sorrow sweeping over her. This…this was the place where her mother had taken her very last breath.
Her father returned to her side, noting the look on Harlow’s face. He touched her arm, his somber expression mirroring hers. “You can wait here if you want.”
Caleb reappeared. “You okay?”
“I…haven’t been inside since the fire.”
Caleb nodded knowingly, having witnessed more than his share of tragedies…the loss of a life, of a beloved pet, or of a home filled with decades of memories, all gone in the blink of an eye. It was the part of the job he dreaded most. Seeing the look on Harlow’s face, even after all these years, made him want to hold her close and take away the pain. “Your dad is right. You can stay here,” he said softly.
“Clearing Dad’s name is important, and the only way to do it is to face the past, regardless of how painful it might be.” Harlow swallowed hard, a look of determination etched on her face. The Wynn family deserved…and desperately needed to find out what happened.
Chapter 15
Tiptoeing around the debris, Harlow cautiously followed Caleb and her father through the living area, down the small hall, past the bedroom and bathroom to the storage / utility room in the back.
Harlow lifted her gaze, noticing slivers of light filtering in through the holes in the ceiling. The acrid smell of smoke had long since faded. A musty odor, mingled with crisp arctic air, courtesy of the snowstorm which had gone through only days earlier, filled the room.
Piles of leaves and a dusting of snow had found the opening in the ceiling and crunched beneath their boots.
While her father and Caleb discussed the room’s dimensions, Harlow wandered around. Metal shelves lined the side walls. Glass jars, cracked from the intense heat of the fire and covered in a thick layer of soot, sat neatly lined up on the shelves, their contents no longer identifiable.
