“David said the smoke would have been so thick she couldn’t see, and she couldn’t hear her partner, as she didn’t have her processor on. Getting separated makes sense.”
“Is it possible the guy she had sex with is the arsonist?” Kane asked. “That maybe he held her there against her will and set the fire with her there on purpose?”
Ian shrugged. “Anything is possible, but the victim had no vaginal bruising or tearing, so it doesn’t appear the sex was forced. The initial urine screen didn’t show any of the typical drugs, and her BA wasn’t high enough to incapacitate her. Of course, the blood tox may come back with something. I’ll have that tomorrow morning.”
“What about the guy she had sex with?” Kane asked.
“Caucasian, dark hair. He left behind some pubic hair. Also, if they were together when the fire started, he may have some lung impairment from the smoke. It may be mild or severe, depending on how long he was exposed. You should check anyone admitted to hospitals for fluid in the lungs. It can sneak up after smoke exposure.”
“At a minimum, he could be very shaken up,” Olivia said.
“If he’s still alive,” Kane countered. “If he got caught in those flames, the firefighters could have walked right through his remains and not known.”
“What about the guard?” Olivia asked. “Please tell me he was sober.”
“As a judge. Blood alcohol was zero, urine was clean. I’ll do his exam after lunch.”
“Is that him?” Olivia asked, pointing at another sheet-covered body on a gurney parked off to the side of the room.
“No, that’s a car accident victim, brought in this morning. Kid wasn’t wearing a seat belt. Not much left of his face after going through the windshield. Don’t worry. Your guy comes first,” Ian said when Olivia started to ask. “I’ll call you when I know anything.”
Olivia held up the sticky note with the implant’s serial number. “Thank you. Really. Now we can get an ID.”
Monday, September 20, 11:30 a.m.
David knew he should be tired, but he was not. A fine energy sizzled over his skin, one that had nothing to do with the rush of walking into a fire and coming out unscathed. No, this was an awareness that he stood on the verge of something important.
Something vital. If he played his cards right, he might end up with something he’d never found, but always craved. Something he probably still didn’t deserve.
My own home. My own family. A wife, kids… all the things his family and friends had found, one at a time. As the years rolled by, he’d become the odd man out. The only one still single. The only one still alone.
He’d stayed in Chicago too long, watching while the woman he’d dreamed about for years got married and started a family with someone else. He’d tried to find someone to take her place. But there had been no one who came close.
Until one April night, two and a half years ago, when Olivia tumbled into his arms at her sister’s rehearsal dinner. And you had to go and blow it. Well, tonight he had the opportunity to fix whatever it was that had made her run. He wouldn’t fuck it up again.
He unlocked the front door to his apartment house. The walls in the entryway would be next on the paint list, he thought, looking around as he did every time he entered. But each time he entered, the place looked a little better. All it had needed was some “sprucing,” as his mother would say.
He’d bought the old building on something of a whim seven months before. His old friend Evie had lived here before finding her own happy ending, which she so richly deserved. Seven months ago, she’d asked him for help with her leaky roof. He’d fixed the leaks, then decided to stay, for a lot of reasons. The biggest of which was the way his chest had gone tight when Olivia had walked into his hospital room after the car he’d been driving had been forced from the road by a psycho killer. That day in the hospital, it had been two years since he’d seen her. He’d almost convinced himself he’d dreamed her and the night they’d had together.
But the moment he’d smelled honeysuckle, he’d known it was real.
So he’d decided to stay, to start over. To build something that was his own. In the last seven months he’d more than “spruced” this old building, gradually turning his ten apartments into showpieces urban professionals would jump to own-which had been his plan. Fix it, flip it, go on to the next. He looked at the names neatly stenciled on the row of antique oak mailboxes and had to smile.
It hadn’t worked out exactly as he’d planned, but he found he liked the way it had ended up a lot better. He jogged up the three flights of stairs to his loft apartment, thinking about the kitchen tiling project he’d left half done. He could put a big dent in it while he waited for Olivia to call. He needed to keep busy, or he’d lose his mind.
“David?” It was a small voice, sounding more like a child than the mother of one. Unfortunately, Lacey was both.
He looked over the rail to the second-floor landing to where the young woman stood, a baby in her arms. “Hey, Lace. What’s up?”
“It’s the refrigerator. It’s not cold. I know you’re just getting off shift, and I wouldn’t have said anything, but Mrs. Edwards said you needed to know. Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay.” He walked down one flight of stairs and into the apartment he hadn’t quite finished rehabbing, although it was livable. Toys littered the floor, and cases of baby formula were stacked against one wall. But the place was clean, even though at the moment it smelled faintly of baby puke. Mrs. Edwards ran a tight ship on which each of her young mothers was responsible for the chores, but even Mrs. Edwards couldn’t keep babies from spitting up.
David opened the refrigerator and sighed. It was broken. “Your groceries will spoil.”
Lacey ducked her head. “Can you fix it?”
“No. This fridge has been ready for the junkyard. I’ve got a new one ready to put in, but I wanted to do the tile on the floor first. I can get the new fridge here by tomorrow, but we’re going to need to move your stuff upstairs until then. Where is Mrs. Edwards?”
“Elly had a doctor’s appointment and Tiffany doesn’t have her license yet, so Mrs. E had to drive them.” Lacey sighed dramatically. “Tiffany failed the drivers’ test again.”
David winced. “Again? What’s wrong with Elly?”
“Nothing, just a well-baby exam. And shots.”
“Good.” He put out his hands and without hesitation, she placed her baby in them. Lacey’s little boy was precious. “Did you get the job at Martino’s?”
Lacey smiled. “Yeah. I have to work nights, but the tips are good and I can still do my GED classes during the day. Thanks for the good word you put in for me. It helped.”
As if picking up on his mother’s sudden mood change, the baby giggled, making David grin. The kid had an infectious laugh, making him miss his own nieces and nephews. He kissed the baby’s chubby cheek and handed him back to Lacey.
“Anytime.” Martino’s was an Italian place run by the family of one of the firefighters on B shift at the firehouse. “They’ll treat you right there. I’ll get your perishables up to my fridge. Mrs. Edwards has a key if I have to leave.” If Olivia calls, I am out of here.
A few minutes later he was standing at his front door, juggling grocery bags while trying to get his key in his lock. He leaned against his door, stumbling when it opened, revealing a woman sitting at his dining room table, a coffee cup in one hand. For a moment he stared, then he felt the smile crack his face.
“Ma?”
She set the cup down with a clatter and was across the room, opening her arms. “I missed you,” she whispered, hugging him fiercely.
“I missed you, too,” he said and she backed away, dabbing at her eyes.