"That changes now. We just got direct threats at the Hartley scene. Sullivan was close enough to photograph us and send it in real time." I pull out my phone and show him the messages. "He's confident and mobile."
Tate's expression doesn't change, but his posture shifts subtly. He shows higher alert, more focused. "I'll coordinate with Cole. We need to expand the perimeter, add eyes on the back approach."
Inside, I lock the door and check every window before allowing myself to breathe. Years of tactical training make the security sweep automatic—test locks, verify sight lines, identify potential breach points. My house was chosen specifically for defensibility when I bought it several years ago. Single story, minimal windows, clear fields of fire from defensive positions, only a pair of entrances that can be effectively monitored.
Mira stands in the living room, processing what just happened, running through the implications. Someone was close enough to kill us both if they'd chosen to act. Her hands shake slightly when she sets down her camera bag. The adrenaline crash hits now that we're behind locked doors.
"He was right there," she says quietly. "Sullivan was watching us. He could have?—"
"He didn't." I move to her, hands settling on her shoulders. "He's playing games, trying to scare us into making mistakes. We're not going to give him that satisfaction."
"Shaw, he murdered Hartley. He set fires that destroyed multiple businesses. This isn't a game. Sullivan is escalating toward something worse."
Her assessment is accurate. Sullivan's behavior pattern shows increasing violence and desperation. Started with property damage, now actual murder. Each fire burns hotter and causes more destruction. He's spiraling toward a final confrontation.
Cole appears in the doorway from the back deck. "Perimeter's secure. Tate's got the front covered. You two need anything?"
"We're good," I tell him. "But stay sharp. Sullivan just sent direct threats and photographed us at the scene."
Cole's expression goes flat and dangerous. "He made a mistake coming after one of ours."
After Cole returns to his position, I pull out my phone and text Will with an update about Hartley's body and the threatening messages. His response comes back immediately.
Will: Keep her there. Security stays in place. I'm coordinating with law enforcement and Fire Marshal Davis. We find this bastard before he escalates further.
I show Mira the message. Some of the tension drains from her shoulders knowing the full weight of the Brotherhood is focused on keeping her safe.
"The brothers voted to protect me," she says.
"They did." I frame her face with my hands. "And that's not changing."
Mira leans into the touch, and some of the fear releases now that we're behind locked doors with armed guards positioned to intercept any approach.
"What now?" she asks.
"Now we work the case from here." I step back and move toward my office. "Financial records, witness statements, evidence analysis—everything we need to be sure who's pulling the strings.
We move to my office where I've already set up workspace for both of us. Mira's laptop and files occupy one side of my desk, with charging cables running to outlets I installed specifically for investigation work. My own materials spread across the other side—fire scene photos organized chronologically, evidence logs cross-referenced with witness statements, burn pattern analysis documented in detailed diagrams.
The office reflects the same military precision as the rest of my house. Everything has a place. Nothing gets left where it doesn't belong. The filing system is organized by case numberand date. Reference materials are shelved alphabetically. Tools and equipment are stored in labeled containers.
Mira noticed it the first time she worked here. She made a comment about how different it looked from typical investigator spaces she'd seen—those chaotic offices with papers stacked everywhere, coffee cups growing mold, evidence photos pinned randomly to walls. My space is clean. Controlled. Exactly what I need to keep the noise in my head from getting too loud.
Working side by side has become natural, a rhythm we've developed through shared focus and complementary skills. She analyzes financial patterns while I map physical evidence. She identifies transaction anomalies while I explain accelerant behaviors. Two different investigative approaches converging on the same truth.
Mira pulls up her financial analysis, the patterns she’s been tracking across all the fires. Spreadsheets fill her screen—color-coded rows, highlighted sections, formulas mapping money flow and shell accounts.
“Every trail bends back to Sullivan,” she says. “Hartley wasn’t the architect. He was the cover story.”
“Sullivan needed a dead man to carry the blame,” I say. “Someone believable. Someone we’d stop looking past.”
I pull up my fire scene documentation on my laptop, opening files I've been building since the first fire at Pete's storage facility. Each scene photographed from multiple angles, burn patterns documented with precise measurements, accelerant samples logged with chain of custody records that would hold up in court.
I compare the methodology across incidents. Pete's storage facility had accelerant poured in the office area, single ignition point, controlled burn that destroyed financial records while leaving structure mostly intact. Beth's tattoo parlor showed a similar pattern but with a secondary pour site in backroom, suggesting either refinement of technique or deliberate escalation. Danny's machine shop had multiple separate origin points, faster spread, more aggressive destruction.
Mike's restaurant brought methodology to a new level. Professional work, calculated timing, accelerant application that ensured total loss before fire crews could establish effective attack. And now Hartley Industrial shows the most violent fire yet, combined with murder to eliminate the designated fall guy.
"The methodology stays consistent across every fire. Same accelerant, same pour patterns, same timing. That's one person, not multiple actors." I zoom in on a burn pattern photo from Mike's restaurant, pointing out the V-pattern that indicates origin point and direction of spread. "See this? The spalling on concrete shows the same characteristics, the depth of char on structural wood matches, and the residue signature in accelerant samples is identical. Whoever set these fires has professional-level knowledge and consistent execution."
