Playing with Fire

“I understand. But you’ve already helped, just by noticing that hole. I can’t believe I kept missing them.”

“I can. I never would have found that one if I hadn’t been brushing charred wood away. Too small. It would pass for a nail hole, and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how often nails pop out in fires because of expansion differences. It hit me only because it was right above one of your ignition points.”

“As hot as that fire was, they might still be nail holes.”

She pushed the computer back and rested her cheeks in her palms, her brain spinning around with ideas, most of which she discarded. “It’s the only explanation for the way you described it.”

“So far.” He turned some more pages on his clipboard. “By the time we arrived, the barn had collapsed, the house was fully engulfed and only minutes from collapsing. Most of our job seemed to be cooling things down. An accelerant filling the walls, maybe suffusing the attic, would explain it all perfectly. Nothing else I can think of does.”

She lifted her head, folding her arms on the table. “This guy scares me, Wayne. He terrifies me.”

This arsonist was indeed the stuff of nightmares.

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