Santiago strides back to his side, somehow able to find exactly what he's looking for in his clutter. He flips through each file he pulls, reading the same few words aloud over and over. “First on scene: Derek Holt.” He drops the folders, adding to the disarray. “Why would he do it?”
Shaking my head, I shrug my shoulders. “I’m sure Walk has an idea.”
“I’ll call him.” Santiago sighs as he grabs his phone.
Walker is back in Santiago's kitchen in less than 10 minutes. He looks at us expectingly, impatiently waiting to hear our analysis.
“Derek Holt is the arsonist,” I state plainly. “He was first on scene at all the arson fires. And not just first. He got there more than ten minutes before the truck. At each one, he saved at least one person.”
Santiago rocks on his feet. “I’d bet my entire herd that he knew where the people were every time, making it easier to save them.”
Not a single muscle twitches on Walker's face.
Santiago narrows his gaze. “You already knew, didn’t you?”
Walker lets out that disappointed breath. “I had a hunch.”
My lips curved down, forming a small frown. “How?”
“When I talked to Julie Holt, her mantle was basically a tribute to her first husband, who died while in the army,” Walker explains, rubbing the back of his neck. “There were only a few pictures with Derek. I didn’t search the whole house. I was only in the living room, but I assume it’s the same everywhere else.”
My eyes stare blankly at nothing, attempting to put together the entire picture. “So…what? You’re saying Derek set fires so his wife would think that he’s a hero like her late husband?”
Walker shoves his hands into the pockets of his brown wool-lined coat. “Exactly.”
I would think that after taking such a huge step in this case, Walker would look relieved, but instead it's as if Santiago and I confirming his theory has added to the stress weighing him down.
Santiago corks abroad. “You get that from your cousin, the hot shot FBI man?”
“I didn’t call him,” he pauses, “Yet.” Walker blinks, and the haunted look in his eye is gone. “Next step is to figure out who would hold a grudge against Derek for this.”
“That would mean someone else put two and two together.” I presume.
Santiago's eyes dart between Walker and me, waiting for one of us to confirm. “Do you think someone figured it out?”
Walker's tone turns grave. “I think so. According to Derek’s wife, everyone loved him. The fire chief said the same thing. So who does that leave?”
“A person who lost something because of the fires he set,” I deduce. “No one died, but there was plenty of property damage.”
“It could be someone from his past,” Santiago suggests
Walker nods. “Always a possibility.”
“What do we do next?” Santiago inquires.
“Let me guess,” I interject, “more research.”
Walker tilts his head. “Exactly.”
Santiago and I groan in unison, bringing an amused smile to Walker's face.
CHAPTER 18
BLAKE
“You dirty girl!” Savannah shouts through the phone so loud that I have to pull it away from my ear. “All three?”
I scoff, keeping my eyes on the road as I drive down Main Street away from the diner. Martha made me eat a salad tonight. She scolded me when I ordered my usual like I was a child. She said that I needed a more balanced diet.
