Children of the Fog (35 page)

Jasi's eyes locked on Divine's. "How secure?"

Divine flipped to an aerial photo, revealing neon orange perimeter beacons that surrounded the crime scene.

"Kelowna PD has guaranteed that there has been no contamination of evidence—other than water, of course. The fire was almost out by the time the trucks got there."

Ben cleared his throat loudly. "We've heard
that
before. How'd they know there was a body?"

"Kelowna PD used an X-Disc," Divine explained. "As you are all aware, very few departments outside of Vancouver and the major cities have access to X-Discs. And our PSI division is the only unit to have the Pro version. Kelowna PD has one of the original prototypes."

"What's the estimated time of death?" Ben asked.

"TOD is between one and two this morning."

The wall photo switched to a black and white of the esteemed Dr. Washburn. The man had posed for the hospital staff photo as if it were a painful experience, his brow pinched in a wrinkled scowl. His receding white hair looked wiry and stubborn.

Like the man himself, Jasi thought.

She had met Dr. Washburn a couple of years ago during a symposium on children's health. The man had not impressed her. There was something about him she didn't like, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Divine turned to Natassia. "Forensics came back as a positive on Washburn. His dental scans matched. I'll need you to dig deep on this one, Agent Prushenko."

Jasi saw Natassia's head dip in agreement.

"We need any information pertaining to the victim. His life, his career—everything," Divine said.

Jasi rubbed her chin. "If this is his second fire, then what's the connection between the victims? What can you tell us about the Victoria fire?"

Divine's data-com beeped suddenly.

He examined it, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, Agent McLellan. I have a meeting with the Premier in half an hour. You'll have to upload that info into your data-communicators." He walked to the door, then paused. "The sooner you pick up your supplies, the sooner you can get your team moving. I need you at the Kelowna crime scene A-SAP. Allan Baker's going to want some answers—fast."

Divine held her gaze. "Get me some."

Then he left.

Jasi plugged her data-com into the Ops mainframe and began reading aloud while the computer uploaded to her portable. "Case H081A. Two victim's. Charlotte Foreman, sixty-three, and Samantha Davis…four years old."

Poor baby.

Her voice faltered slightly. "TOD is 9:05 p.m. on Charlotte Foreman. She was pronounced in the hospital. The child died shortly before. Smoke inhalation."

"Who called it in?" Ben asked.

"A neighbor. When the fire department got there the rain had already extinguished the fire. Victoria PD exhausted their leads. The case was cold. Until now."

Her eyes gleamed with determination.

"So we have jurisdiction over
both
fires, now that it's a serial arson case."

For the next half-hour, Jasi examined the evidence, including the fire investigator's statements and forensic reports on the two bodies found at the scene in Victoria. There wasn't much to go on. A cable truck would warrant investigating but other than that, no one in the neighborhood remembered seeing anything remotely suspicious.

"Let's start with Washburn and work backward," Ben suggested. "I'll call ahead, Jasi, and make sure that everything's ready for you in Kelowna."

He disappeared down the hall.

Meanwhile, Natassia continued flicking through the wall photos of the Washburn murder.

"See anything?" Jasi asked her, moving beside the dark-haired woman for a closer look.

Natassia pointed to the close-up of a strange melted mass of plastic. "There's a few possibilities. The X-Disc found IV tubing. Washburn was secured to his recliner with it. Funny thing, though. The recliner was fully extended."

Jasi chewed on her bottom lip, wondering why someone would bother to recline the chair…or use plastic IV tubing.

Wouldn't a rope have been better? And how did the arsonist get possession of the tubing?

"Back in a sec, Natassia. I have to get my pack."

She walked down a narrow corridor to a door marked
PSI Prep Room
. Swiping her ID card, she was buzzed inside. The room held a row of lockers lined against one wall.

She inserted her card into the slot on locker
J12
.

It beeped, then opened.

Removing a hefty black backpack, she silently cursed its necessary weight. She placed the bag on a metal table in the middle of the room and kicked the door to her locker shut. The zipper to the main compartment of the bag jammed. Frustrated, she tugged at it until it finally opened, revealing two thin flashlights, evidence markers, a piece of florescent chalk and other field supplies.

From a shelf above the lockers, she grabbed the last can of
OxyBlast
and shoved it inside the bag. Satisfied, she closed the backpack, heaving it over her shoulder.

Then she returned to Command.

"Okay, ladies, we better get moving," Ben suggested, poking his head through the doorway.

"Ladies?" Natassia asked with a laugh. "Jasi, did Agent Roberts just call us
'ladies'
?"

"Well, one of you certainly doesn't fit that description," Ben grumbled under his breath.

"Come on, Natassia," Jasi said with a snort. "Focus."

"I
am
focussing."

Watching her, Jasi chuckled. She couldn't help but admire Natassia Prushenko. Not only was the woman gorgeous, she had self-confidence up the ying-yang.

Natassia was a Russian immigrant. In some ways, she was a trade from the Russian government in return for favors from the PSI division. She spoke five languages and was the best VE Jasi had ever worked with.

And Jasi had worked with a number of Victim Empaths over the years.

Natassia had joined her team just over two months ago, during the Parliament Murders. Jasi had seen firsthand what her partner's skills could take out of her. A VE sometimes assimilated the emotions of the victim, to the point that it was almost impossible to separate—to come back to reality.

"Happy Birthday, Jasi. Great way to be spending it, huh?" Natassia's grinning mouth snapped firmly shut when Jasi whipped her head around.

"Okay, the chopper is ready," Ben announced.

Covering their ears, they dashed across the tarmac. The four-blade rotor of an Ops helicopter sliced through the air, droning and choppy. The sound was deafening until the pilot handed each of them a headset.

A few minutes later, they were onboard and gliding across the treetops.

"We'll do the scene first," Jasi said, plugging her data-com into the outlet in front of her.

Natassia nodded. "Okay. After that, I'll see if I can get a read off Washburn's remains. Maybe I'll get a hit. There's a good chance Washburn knew the perp."

"I'll get the reports for both fires and make some calls to set up interviews," Ben said, removing his gloves. "Then I'll start my profile. So far, what do we have?"

"A sick bastard who likes to set fires," Jasi murmured.

"Yeah, we have that. Hey, are you going to be okay in Kelowna? Do you need anything special?"

She handed him a short list. "Just this. I have everything else."

Ben read the list quickly, then keyed in the request on his data-com.

A few minutes later, his unit beeped a response.

"Everything will be waiting for you, Jasi. Just see the Chief of Arson Investigation on-scene."

She knew that her day would be long and grueling. She recalled the disaster that occurred years ago. A raging forest fire had swept over Okanagan Mountain, burning almost three hundred homes to the ground and destroying over twenty-five thousand hectares of natural forest.

As the private helicopter soared closer to the dreary crime scene, Jasi settled into the seat, pulled her long auburn hair up into a quick ponytail and closed her eyes. She would need to be alert and rested.

Agent Jasi McLellan could already taste the bitter smoke in the air.

And something more—death.

3

~ Loon Lake near Kelowna, BC

The helicopter deployed Jasi and her PSI team one mile from the fire. A fog of gray smoke greeted them. It hung in the air over the crime scene like a smothering electric blanket set on
high
. The scorching sun smiled down upon them, adding to the heat.

Fire trucks were parked on the side of a grassy field surrounded by thick trees and weedy underbrush. An oversized khaki-colored army tent had been pitched in the center of the field while an exhausted group of firefighters slept nearby in the shade. A variety of police vehicles slanted across the gravel road, blocking off public access.

A tired, sooty police officer strolled toward them. "Hey, Ben."

Ben grinned and introduced the man. "This is Sgt. Eric Jefferson, Kelowna PD."

"How's it hangin', Ben?" Jefferson asked, after introductions were complete. "Are you supervising this case?"

"Actually,
I
am," Jasi said, only slightly offended.

Ben grimaced apologetically. "Eric and I trained at the VPA range together."

The Vancouver Police Academy was highly regarded worldwide for its superior training of police officers. The academy owned acres of land outside the city limits. The rough terrain had been converted to a firearm training facility used by CFBI agents and police officers.

There was also a separate area for the bomb squad.

"A van's coming to get you," Jefferson said. "And someone'll be here any minute with the supplies you requested."

"Where's the Chief of AI?" Jasi asked him.

"Over by the tents, I think."

Jefferson glanced over his shoulder at an approaching truck. "Your supplies are here."

A police officer in his mid-forties, dressed in a fresh uniform, jumped from the truck. When he spotted them standing by the edge of the road his eyes narrowed. A firefighter wearing fire gear, minus the hat and mask, climbed from the passenger side carrying a bright red equipment bag. He had a stocky build and blond hair that was cut in a surfer style, long on the sides.

The man reminded Jasi of an advertisement for steroids.

She caught his eye and he aimed a withering look in her direction. Uh oh, she thought.
Steroid-man
wasn't happy to see them.

"Detective Randall," Jefferson murmured, indicating the officer. "He's the lead on the Victoria case."

"He
was
the lead," Jasi corrected him.

She watched while Randall and the stocky firefighter lumbered closer. When the two men reached her, she held out a hand.

"Agent McLellan, CFBI."

The detective winced at her words. Then his hand crushed her fingers, challenging her to back down.

Jasi squeezed harder until Randall let go.

After introducing her team, she caught Randall fighting with Ben for
alpha male
status. Detective Randall lost. Tension sliced through the air, thick with male testosterone. She saw Ben wave Eric Jefferson aside.

Jasi stole a glance at the firefighter.

The man's head was turned slightly away. On the shoulder of his jacket, a blue firefighter's patch flapped loosely in the breeze.
R. J. Scott, KFD
, the patch read.

"Have you got the supplies?" she asked him, feeling a shudder of pain behind her eyes.

Scott dropped the red bag on the ground, crouched down and jerked the zipper open. "Right here."

Her head began to pound. The smoke was invading her pores. She reached into her black backpack and extracted the can of
OxyBlast
. For half a minute, she sucked on the mouthpiece, inhaling pure oxygen and clearing her lungs.

"The oxy-mask is in the bag," Scott muttered in a voice that was hoarse from breathing in too much smoke.

When he brushed the hair from his eyes, she sucked in a puff of air. The left side of the man's face was scarred—a motley web of spidery burns.

"Hazard of the job," he shrugged when he noticed her shocked expression.

Detective Randall joined them. "You done here, Scott?"

"Yeah," the firefighter grunted.

Randall stared at Jasi and laughed rudely. "I don't know why she needs the mask."

Scott scowled at her. "Yeah, it's as useless as tits on a bull—unless she's gonna go into a live fire."