Page 143 of Fire and Bones
“I do.”
“While investigating the first fire deaths, Deery discovered that a few other Foggy Bottom properties also belong to W-C. And that one building was standing empty. Crafty cop that he is, he ordered eyes on those places. Nothing steady, just a unit cruising by now and then.”
Way to go, Merle, I thought.
“Why was the building vacant?” I asked.
“It had just gone on the market.”
Deep down, yet another soft ping in my subconscious.
“Here’s another curious twist,” Thacker continued. “Burgos says this was arson, but the MO was totally different from the previous two. And quite creative. The doer doused a pan of kitty litter with gasoline. Then he went outside to disconnect a line supplying propane to a clothes dryer. Returning inside, he disconnected the appliance end of that line. After tossing a match into the litter, he went back outside, reconnected the gas line, and opened the valve. Ka-boom! Sound familiar?”
“The same MO as in one of the files you asked me to review.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said.
“Do you think this fire is connected to your earlier case?”
“Anything’s possible,” she answered. “But it’s unlikely. That homicide involved a kid killing his granny.”
“Doesn’t sound like a copycat,” I agreed.
“At least not a very wily one.”
“What was the DOA doing in an empty house?” I asked.
“Who the hell knows. By the way, this latest hasn’t hit the news yet. Not that there’s been much interest. Those who’ve contacted my office agreed to hold off until the vic’s next of kin have been notified.”
We disconnected.
I sat a long time, listening to the brush of wind in the branches outside. To the rhythmic tapping of raindrops on glass.
Troubled, but oblivious as to the cause.
Until the front door opened, and heavy boots clomped my way.
CHAPTER 32
Zanetti smiled at me from the doorway, all Hollywood hair and amber eyes.
“Tempe. What an awesome surprise. Though I knew you were stuck here on chinch duty.”
“Hey, Ben.” Voice totally neutral.
“I was on my way home but thought you might want a break from the little guy.”
“Aren’t you allergic?”
“I am. But what’s a little sneezing and itching if I can score points with my sweetie. Also, my Wi-Fi’s out and I need to use Ivy’s computer for some work stuff.”
Zanetti crossed the kitchen, placed a bag on the island, and perched on the stool next to mine. Legs outstretched in faded extra-long jeans, he leaned back, elbows on the marble or quartzite or whatever the stone was.
“You are in luck, Madame.” Nodding solemnly at the bag. “I am the bearer of treasure from the Old Line State.”
I just looked at him, face blank, brain racing through a memory-based facial comparison. Nose. Ears. Cheekbones. Jawline. Was this the same man I’d seen at the Petco?
“That bag contains nothing less than steamed blue crabs from Cantler’s,” he declared.