The sound of footsteps in the hallway announced Tom’s arrival, and Holt looked up as the police chief appeared in the doorway.
“Have you got everything you need?” Tom asked.
“Yes, thank you,” Holt said, his eyes scanning the documents. “I’m just going through it all and will make notes.”
“Okay, keep me updated if you find anything,” Tom told him. “Or need anything else.”
“I will,” Holt said.
“I’ll let you get back to it,” Tom said and left.
Holt took a sip of his coffee before turning back to the reports. He decided to start with the previous night’s incident, methodically reviewing every witness statement and photograph. The illegal campsite bothered him—the placement seemed too strategic, too calculated for random campers. The abandoned equipment told a story of either extreme carelessness or deliberate staging.
But it was the gasoline can that had captured his investigative attention. Ace had found it hidden in brush that hadn’t burned, suggesting someone who understood fire behavior well enough to ensure the evidence survived. That level of sophistication didn’t match a casual arsonist.
Holt reached for the main file from ten years ago, the thick folder that contained the investigation into Shaun Parker’s death and the fire that had devastated the community. The cover had a note marked ‘See folders’ with an arrow pointing to a stack of numbered folders beside it.
Curious, Holt opened the first numbered folder. Inside was documentation of a small fire that had occurred three weeks before the fatal blaze. It was a brush fire behind one of the downtown businesses. Officially ruled electrical, but the investigator’s notes mentioned scorch patterns inconsistent with that conclusion.
The second folder contained reports of another small fire at the edge of the official campground a few days before Shaun’s death. There was no registered camper for that site, and it had been attributed to an unattended campfire.
As Holt worked through each numbered folder, a chilling pattern emerged. Someone had been systematically setting small fires around Sandpiper Shores for weeks before thedevastating blaze. Each incident had been carefully planned, the locations chosen to test emergency response times and procedures.
But there was something else. In several of the folders, witness statements mentioned the same person appearing at multiple fire scenes. A young man claiming to be an independent news podcaster, asking questions about the response efforts and taking extensive photographs and video.
Holt jotted down the file numbers and the recurring mentions of this journalist. The same individual kept appearing as a spectator, always asking questions, always documenting everything. Gilbert Fry was that man’s name, and it appeared in witness statement after witness statement.
Reaching for the main folder again, Holt noticed another note from Willa on the cover: “See back of folder.” He flipped it over, and his eyebrows shot up at what he found written there.
Incidents aimed at emergency personnel before the tragic fire:
Captain Shaun Parker’s bookshelves collapsed in his office, nearly hitting him in the head.
Captain Shaun Parker was trapped in the file room when filing cabinets mysteriously got toppled over.
Captain Shaun Parker was trapped in his office when his door handle broke—this was later seen as sabotage.
A fire started in Captain Shaun Parker’s waste paper bin when he was out at a fire scene.
Captain Shaun Parker’s tires were slashed on his Fire Captain’s SUV.
