"I'll just keep adding to the list I've already got. This is a nightmare scenario. Too many witnesses, many who we only have names for. I wonder if we can get a hotline for those who were there or in the vicinity to call in to speak with us. I know we'll weed through it all, but there has to be an easier way." Amy paused typing to slip the hair tie off her wrist and pull her hair back in a ponytail.
"What a damn mess." Franks reached for the pack of gum he had on the console and took a piece. "You know as well as I do what a joke it is when we're trying to work with fire, and now, we have ATF here as well. We'll be lucky to get straight answers from any of them. We'll all run our own investigations, share none of our information, and hope somehow one of us finds the answer to the problem."
"I don't think it will be that bad. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours. The scene is still hot and unsecure. Give us time to get in there and search for information. I want answers as badly as you do. I want to find out if someone nearly killed Angus. I want to give all the victims the answers they deserve, but it doesn't happen overnight, and it's literally been one night, Franks. Take a deep breath and focus on this like we would any other case. Give it time to come together." Amy took the pack of gum he'd tossed back onto the console and took one for herself. "We'll find the answers."
"I can't stop thinking about Angus. I'm glad I didn't see him last night. I'm not sure I could handle that shit. It's bad enough knowing about it. Hell, he could have been decapitated. How the hell does that happen? Then there's his parents. Both of them are injured, can't drive, and will spend the time they should be with Angus at home healing. Thank God that Lance is there, but did you see how he looked? He's injured too. He should be home in bed. I'm glad Jackson is back and can help, but I feel like I need to do more. I should be focused on Angus and his family, not out here searching for answers to something we don't even know how it happened." Franks turned in to the parking lot of the hospital, found a parking spot, shut off the car, and slumped back in his seat with a huff.
Amy slowly closed her laptop, then turned in her seat to face Franks. "You're doing your job, which will get us the answers you need. Angus wouldn't want you to sit by his bedside. He'd want you out here to work on the case and get answers. There are doctors and nurses watching over him right now. Let them care for him while we find out what happened to cause this. We're both exhausted right now. Emotions are running high. Let's get these interviews done while the other agencies do their part. Tonight, we'll get some good sleep, and tomorrow, we'll combine all the facts that have been collected and get back to work. You are doing exactly what Angus wants you to be doing." She placed her hand on Franks' arm. "We'll get answers for the victims."
Franks blew out a long breath, resting his head back on the seat with his eyes closed. "What if he doesn't make it?"
Amy gave his arm a squeeze. "We're not going to even think about that. He made it through surgery. He's stable right now. He got through the worst of it. He's a fighter. He's going to recover and then kick your ass for ever doubting him."
Franks smiled. "Probably."
"Come on. Let's go inside and interview these victims. They were closest to the explosion. Hopefully, they'll give us more to go on." Amy released Franks' arm and started tucking her laptop into her bag.
Franks nodded, pulling the keys out of the ignition and opening his door. "How many are here?"
"Four, but one hasn't regained consciousness. I'm not sure how severely the others are burned. Be ready for anything." Amy closed the car door.
Franks got out of the car, locked the doors, then pocketed the keys. He straightened his shirt as he looked at the front of the hospital. "At least the media isn't bothering them here."
"Less people to interview. Less families come in and out who might want to give a statement." Amy hefted her bag over her shoulder as they started toward the doors.
Franks followed Amy inside and let her do the talking. She was so much better than he was at speaking. She had a way of making everyone comfortable and somehow willing to open up and talk. It was a talent he wished he had. He fumbled words awkwardly and had trouble keeping his mouth shut when he needed to.
"Fourth floor. The nurse's station can let you know where to go from there," the older lady responded to whatever Amy had asked her.
"Thank you." Amy smiled and turned.
Franks gave the woman a polite nod, then followed Amy to the elevators. As they walked through the lobby, he tried hard not to notice the people around him, many with burns scarring different parts of their bodies. Some with bandages still covering their wounds. He knew the burn center was well known for its treatments, and that only a partial area was used like a normal hospital. The rest were clinics and doctor's offices that offered aftercare and rehabilitation to patients.
Once off the elevator, they made their way to the nurse's station and again, Franks let Amy do the talking.
"We were hoping to be able to speak with Spencer Tims, Lisa Welch, Mary Oswald, and Elliot Cartson," Amy told her as she showed her badge.
"Elliot is in critical condition and is still unconscious, but the other three are available. They are all heavily medicated, so I'm not sure how much information you can get from them." The nurse scribbled down some information on a sticky note, then handed it to Amy. "Names and room numbers. Please try to keep them calm and if they're tired or ask you to leave, don't push them."
"We promise to be quick." Amy smiled. "Thanks." She turned to Franks. "Spencer is in room four-ten."
"I can't decide if burns are better than what Angus got or not," Franks whispered.
"Worse if you ask me." Amy rubbed her hands down her arms. "Fire has always scared me." She paused at the open door of Spencer's room.
Franks looked in and smiled at the young man who was looking at them.
"Spencer, I'm Detective Burns, and this is Detective Franks. Are you up to answering a few questions about last night?"
Spencer nodded. He looked to be in his mid-to-late twenties, and was thin with pale skin and bright red eyebrows. The rest of his head was shaven, and several bandages covered spots on his scalp. He had his arm resting beside him, also covered in bandages. "I'm not sure what I can tell you. I don't remember a lot."
"That's okay. We're just trying to get a feel for how things were right before the explosion. You are a cook there, right?"
"Yeah, I was on salads. That's probably what saved my life. I was toward the back area of the kitchen." He nodded to hisarm. "Something that was burning flew back and landed on my arm once I was on the ground, and it caught my hair on fire. I managed to get that out, but my arm is pretty badly burned."
Franks noted the bruising and abrasions all over Spencer's face and neck. He pulled out his small notebook and a pen. "Do you recall anything odd happening right before the explosion? Anything that seemed out of the ordinary?"
"No, but it's so busy back there that I wouldn't notice much. At that time of night, we're so busy getting food out that we don't have time to focus on anything else. I'd just gone to get more lettuce out of the walk-in. I'd just gotten three more orders. The next thing I know, I'm on the ground, my hair is on fire, and there are flames everywhere. I panicked and started running my hands over my head. That was when I noticed my arm was burned. I'm not sure what fell on it, but they think whatever did caught my hair on fire as well. When I moved to put my hair out, I tossed whatever was on my arm off. I didn't even realize how badly I was hurt until I was out the back door and away from the building."
