Just like at the café.
“Motive?” I ask.
“That’s your department, not mine.” Phoebe moves to the doorway, checking the exit route. “But whoever did this knew the building layout.”
“Professional knowledge or just common sense?”
“Could be either. Fire 101 says you start where there’s fuel and limited detection.” She looks at me. “You’ve been staring at these burn patterns for three days. What are you seeing that I’m not?”
“I’m seeing someone in a hurry. Someone who knows enough to use accelerant and pick the right location, but not enough to cover their tracks properly.” I stand up, brushing ash off my gloves. “These aren’t professional hits. They’re amateur work by someone who’s trying to make something look like an accident but doesn’t know how.”
“Or someone who doesn’t care if it looks like arson. Maybe the point is the fire itself, not hiding it.”
“Then why two locations? Why the café and the library?” I take another photo. “What’s the connection?”
“Rachel Morgan,” Phoebe says it matter-of-factly, like she’s stating the weather. “She’s the only common factor we can confirm. Present at both fires, both times in the building when it started.”
“She’s not setting them herself.”
“I didn’t say she was. But she’s connected somehow. Either she’s the target, or she’s adjacent to the target, or she’s witnessing something she doesn’t realize she’s witnessing.” Phoebe closes her tablet. “Have you considered that maybe the fires aren’t about the buildings at all? Maybe they’re about timing. About who’s supposed to be where when the fire starts.”
I think about that.
“If someone’s targeting Rachel specifically, there are easier ways to hurt her than burning down buildings she happens to be in.”
“Unless the buildings are secondary. Collateral damage.” Phoebe heads toward the exit. “Or maybe we’re overthinking this and it’s just a firebug who likes watching things burn. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“No. This is deliberate. Planned.” I follow her out of the storage room. “I just need to figure out what the plan is.”
We finish documenting the scene and head back to our vehicles. Phoebe’s driving back to the county office to file the reports. I’m supposed to be doing the same.
Instead, I find myself driving toward Jake’s house.
Not for official business. Not for follow-up questioning. Just because I need to see that Rachel’s okay with my own eyes instead of taking everyone else’s word for it.
Jake’s truck is in the driveway when I pull up. So is Rachel’s car. Through the living room window, I can see movement inside.
I knock on the door.
Jake answers, looking surprised. “Marco. Hey. Didn’t know you were stopping by.”
“Was in the area. Thought I’d check in.” I step inside when he moves back. “How’s everyone doing?”
“Trying to keep our spirits high.” He closes the door. “Rachel’s in the kitchen. Tommy’s upstairs building something. You want coffee?”
“Sure.”
I follow him to the kitchen. Rachel’s at the table with her laptop open, surrounded by papers that look like job applications. She glances up when we walk in.
“Marco. Hi.”
“Rachel.” I nod at the laptop. “Job hunting?”
“Trying to. Not going well.” She closes the laptop.
Jake hands me a mug. “Derek called again this morning. Left another message about the custody filing.”
“What’s he saying?” I ask.
