Jamie Garrett - Riley Reid 02 - Fire and Lies (5 page)

I needed a break after the night at Fresh Horizons, so I spent the morning of July 7 in the office. To be more specific, I was on my laptop. The Chesapeake Chemicals company was the query of my research, and what I learned scared the hell out of me. The sheer amount of dangerous chemicals you could order online was unbelievable. It was a one-stop shop for domestic terrorists.

Once I got over my shock, I looked up contact information. They had a fax and telephone number, and they had just opened. So I decided to give them a call.

“Chesapeake Chemicals, this is Todd, how may I help you?” Nobody talked like that. It sounded like Todd was a new hire. He must’ve just repeated whatever script a supervisor had given him.

“I’m Detective Williams with the Stone Harbor Police Department.” Sometimes you had to tell some little white lies to get what you need. I’m not ashamed of it.

Todd sounded a little flustered. I felt a little bad for him. If it was his first day, the last thing he wanted was to have to deal with a detective’s questions. “How … what can I do for you, Detective?”

“You could answer a few questions for me.”

“Maybe I should get my supervisor. I’m not sure I’m qualified to…”

A supervisor might’ve called me out on my bullshit. I couldn’t let that happen. “Do you sell powdered iron oxide and aluminum at Chesapeake Chemicals?”

“Umm, let me check.” I heard Todd’s typing over the phone. “Yes, it appears that we do.”

“Todd, I need know who has bought iron oxide and powdered aluminum in the last six months, along with magnesium rolls.”

There was a pause. That wasn’t a good sign. “I’m not authorized to access that information, Ma’am. If you are willing to wait a minute, I can get my supervisor and he can…”

Again, with the supervisor talk. I cut Todd off. “Just tell your supervisor to fax over a copy of any orders for iron oxide and aluminum.” I fumbled around for my purse. Inside my purse, I had one of Sam’s cards. I took it out. “Fax it over to 230-480-6649. Thank you for your time Todd.”

Before Todd could say anything else, I hung up. I hoped that he would get his supervisor to fax over those records. Chesapeake Chemicals was the only supplier for at least a hundred miles in every direction. Chances were, whoever was setting these fires got the ingredients for thermite from them.

I figured that my best move was to go to the Stone Harbor police station and wait for the fax. It would have been better to be there so I could intercept it. Then I wouldn’t have to explain it to Sam. At least, that was how I justified it to myself. The truth was I wanted the information to myself. I’m big enough to admit my own selfishness.

After locking up, I left my offices. I looked down Main Street in both directions. There were no black SUVs, or men in white plastic rabbit masks. It was safe. My grip loosened around the handle of my .38 concealed in my purse. If people are really after you, is it paranoia?

My car was parked around the back of the building again. It wasn’t a long walk to get there, but I found myself moving at a fast pace. I no longer felt safe out in the open like that. I felt exposed. I felt vulnerable.

The only other soul in the dark recesses behind my office was a homeless man. He was talking to himself and relieving his bladder next to a dumpster. He wasn’t exactly threatening. With that said, I still kept my eyes on him as I entered my vehicle.

I can clearly remember dozens of bad horror movies where the protagonists put their keys in the ignition and they try to start their car. Of course, the engine doesn’t start. While watching that cliché on screen, I ask myself: “Who has luck that bad? Why don’t they get their car serviced before investigating the local serial killer? How often does that really happen?”

On that night, I lived the cliché. I turned my key. Nothing happened. I tried again and the engine gave no sign of life. The third time, my car gave a brief splutter before dying again.

At that point, I was starting to get a little nervous. The homeless man was staring at me in a creepy way. There were no lights. If it were a horror movie, then it was a perfect setting for a murder. That was the last clear thought I could remember from that night.

With a fourth attempt at turning my engine on, I met success. The car came to life with a rumble. I reached for the gear shift to put it in reverse. When I looked in my rear view mirror I saw a black shape in my back seat. For a moment I froze, trying to figure out what it was.

I kept staring at the shape. Slowly I reached into my purse for my gun. The shape started to move, it uncoiled. Then I saw its face. It was a white plastic rabbit mask. A split second later a thin rope was around my neck. An intense pressure was applied from behind, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

Instinctively, I put my car in reverse and pressed down on the gas pedal. My car slammed into the back of my own offices. Luckily, the building was strong and hardly took any damage. For a second, the rope around my neck was loose, but I was too dazed to take advantage of the opening.

I could hear the person in my back seat groan through the mask. It was a man’s groan. He was stunned, too. The way I saw it, I had two choices. Either I could hop out of the car and make a run for it. Or I could get my gun and stand my ground.

I opened the driver’s side door. When I tried to get out, there was a sudden and frightening choking sensation in my throat. It was so violent and painful, I thought it was the end. In my haste to escape, I forgot about the rope around my neck.

In a panic, I shifted the car into drive and put as much force as possible onto the gas. With one hand I tried to pry myself out of the masked man’s garrote. My other hand was on the steering wheel.

The world around me was beginning to go dark. I was experiencing a lack of oxygen. If I didn’t get free, I was a goner. All efforts to get free were futile. Even if I was physically stronger than my attacker, he had leverage on his side.

I sped down Main Street. The masked man pulled tighter. No matter how fast I went, there was no getting away.

What happened next unfolded in a split second. Later, I would learn that the driver of the other vehicle was a man who was on his way to pick up his kids. Thankfully, he was alone in the car at that moment. I’m still grateful for that.

The minivan slammed into the side of my car. It was my fault, I ran a red light. But considering the circumstances, I didn’t feel all that bad about it. I wasn’t exactly in the position to make safe driving decisions. Upon impact, I blacked out.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up on the floor of the passenger side front seat of my car. There were broken shards of glass all over me. But the rope wasn’t around my neck anymore.

Every part of my body ached. I couldn’t help but moan as I got up. From inside my car, I could see the minivan that hit me. Its hood was crumpled up like a squashed beer can. Behind the wheel I could see a man’s head, hunched over.

I took a glance into the backseat of my car. The masked man was gone. Where did he go? Maybe he got thrown out of the car during the crash? That was wishful thinking. But I didn’t have the time to worry about it.

When I opened the driver’s side door, I toppled out. The pain when I hit the asphalt of the street was intense. I couldn’t let that stop me. There were more important things at stake than me.

There was someone in that van and they might need help. I felt like a newborn doe, trying to walk for the first time. Both my legs wobbled. No matter what, I wasn’t going to give up.

I reached the minivan. In the front seat I got a closer look at the driver. He wasn’t moving, except for his breathing. Even though I’m an atheist, I thanked God for that.

“Don’t worry…” I tried to tell the man that everything would be okay. Before I could, something grabbed me from behind.

The masked man had taken a hold of my shirt and spun me to the ground. He was strong. But from the ground, I could see his limp. His right leg had been injured in the crash. It was soaked in blood.

“Ou gob dab biff!” The masked man was yelling at me but I couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying. His mask muffled it.

I played possum ‘til my attacker got close. Then I kicked him in his injured right leg. He screamed and fell to the street. In the distance, I could hear the sirens from an ambulance. There wasn’t enough time to wait for them to save me, though. The masked man was already getting back up.

On all fours, I crawled back to my car. Inside of it was my purse. And inside of that was my gun. I just had to beat my attacker there.

I climbed into the front seat of my car. My purse was on the floor near where I woke up. As I went through it looking for the .38 caliber revolver, the masked man grabbed my ankle. He was trying to pull me out. And he succeeded in doing so, but not before I got my gun.

The masked man kicked me once. I didn’t feel it. Adrenaline numbed it. When he went for another kick, I rolled over and fired my weapon. Immediately after shooting, I regretted it. I regretted it because my aim was true. The shot tore through his mask and took a chunk of his head with it.

I sat on the curb in complete disbelief over what had just transpired. In a span of five minutes someone tried to strangle me to death, I got in a car crash and then I killed a man. It was too much to process.

The ambulance and police arrived without me even noticing. My gaze was transfixed on the street just a couple of feet in front of me. I wanted to cry but couldn’t. I wanted to scream but couldn’t.

“Riley? Riley!?” Someone tried to get my attention. I slowly lifted my head up and saw Sam. “Give me the gun, Riley.”

I looked down at my hand. And I was indeed still holding my .38.

“Just give me the gun.”

I handed Sam my gun. As I did, my hand was shaking uncontrollably. The moment it left my possession, the tears started.

Sam did what he thought he was supposed to. He sat down and hugged me. The last thing I wanted at that moment was to be touched, let alone embraced. But he meant well.

“C’mon,” said Sam as he stood back up. He held out his hand for me to grab. “C’mon, you need to get checked out.”

“Checked out?” I asked quietly.

“You were in an accident. You need to get looked at. The paramedics are just over there,” Sam pointed to the nearby ambulance.

I took Sam’s hand and he lifted me up. My head started spinning. It took a few moments for the world around me to stop moving. When it did, I was reminded of the horror I had just gone through.

Sam and I walked over to the paramedics, who were looking at the man from the minivan. He was sitting in the ambulance with a neck brace on. There were a few cuts and bruises on his face, but he looked okay. Words cannot express how relieved I was to see that he wasn’t seriously hurt.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I was distracted. I looked at my radio for only a second. When I looked back up, it was too late. God, I’m so sorry. I’ll … my insurance will pay for this. I feel so bad.” The guy was all over the place.

“That’s fine, really.” I just wanted him to stop talking.

As the paramedics started looking me over, I saw the body of my attacker being loaded into the county coroner’s van. I had to see who he was. His face, I had to see his face.

“Ma’am can you follow the light?” asked one of the paramedics as she shined a small flashlight in my eyes and moved it left to right. “Good.” She put the flashlight away and then started to look over the rest of my body. Both of the medics insisted on me getting on a gurney, but I refused.

I waved off the paramedic who was treating me and made my way over to the coroners. Sam tried to stop me. But I was driven. Nobody could have prevented me from finding out.

The man I had killed was in a black body bag. When I got to it, the two guys who worked for the county coroner gave me strange looks.

“I need to see.” I didn’t know what else to say. How do you tell someone that you want to take a look at a corpse? It couldn’t have been a request they received on a regular basis.

“Ummm…” One of the morticians looked over at the other, then back at me. “What?”

I didn’t answer. Instead I reached for the zipper. The morticians tried to stop me. Sam stepped in.

“Let her see.”

“But… ?”

Sam put his hand on one of the mortician’s shoulder. “Trust me, her mind is made up. There is no stopping her. You might as well let her see.”

The morticians backed off. I felt the cold metal of the zipper. Then I pulled. Who I found inside that black bag was surprising, to say the least. Staring up at the night sky with dead eyes was Jimmy Alvarez. It was the same Jimmy Alvarez I had had dinner with days before. He was the same Jimmy Alvarez who was handsome, but talked too much. Well, he wasn’t quite as handsome with a chunk of his forehead missing.

I’d seen dead bodies before. The first one had been when I was only twenty. My roommate at the George Mason dormitories was dumped by her longtime boyfriend. Over the Christmas break, she decided to slit her wrists horizontally not vertically. Her suicide note was dated Christmas Eve. I came back to find her bloated in our bathtub.

When I discovered my dead roommate, I was shocked and sad, but I didn’t throw up. For whatever reason, when I saw Jimmy I threw up all over the street. Probably due to the fact that I was the one who had put him in that bag.

“You know him?” asked Sam. He gently rubbed my back in a circular motion.

“His name is Jimmy Alvarez. Amy set me up with him a couple of nights back.”

“She did?” There was a hint of jealousy to Sam’s voice. “You okay?”

I spit out the last remnants of vomit. I’m sure I looked enchanting. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just, I’ve never… ”

“Killed anyone, I know. And I wish you never had to.” Sam made sure to make eye contact with me. I had rarely seen him so serious. “But the fact of the matter is you had to. If you hadn’t, he would’ve killed you. What you did here was justified. There isn’t any reason to feel guilty.”

I didn’t feel guilty about what I did. Still, there was a sickening feeling in my gut. And that was a good thing, even if it didn’t feel like it at the time. Feeling that way was natural. I may not have felt that way at the time, but it was proof that I had a conscience.

“Thanks. Really, Sam, it means a lot.”

“There’s no need to thank me. This is what friends do.”

Sam escorted me back to his car. We both got in. I decided I needed to tell Sam everything I had learned about the fires and the thermite. Things were getting too dangerous to keep going at it by myself.

“We need to talk,” I said, seconds after we entered the car. Talking would help me get my mind off of the horrors of that night. It’d help me.  And it would help Sam.

“Sure.” Sam was more than willing. I think he had suspected that I was holding out on him. He was a detective, after all. And no matter how goofy he could be, he was one of the smartest men that I knew.

“I’ve … there’s some things I haven’t told you.”

“About?”

“The fires at the church and marina.”

“Go on.” Technically Sam could’ve arrested me for purposefully withholding information about an active police investigation. But I’m lucky that I’m cute. There was no way in hell that he’d ever do that.

“When I looked over what was left of the church, I noticed something. Some of the piping looked like it had melted.”

“Okay, what does that mean? It was a fire. Things got hot.”

“Yeah, but most fires don’t get nearly hot enough to melt iron. I looked it up. The average structural fire burns at about one thousand, one hundred degrees Fahrenheit. Iron melts at two thousand, seven hundred and ninety-five degrees.”

Sam took a moment to take in what I told him. “So … what can burn hot enough to melt metal? Don’t tell me you don’t know because we both know that you do.”

“I think the fires were started with thermite.”

“Thermite? You mean that stuff those crazy ass conspiracy theorists think were used in the twin towers?”

“I don’t know about any conspiracies, but yeah, thermite. It’s a mixture of iron oxide and aluminum in powdered form. Welders, demolition teams and schools are the only ones who have a reason to use the stuff. But it’s not illegal to possess, so technically anyone could get some.

“Around us, the only people who’d use thermite are the artists over at Metal Works and maybe the chemistry teacher at Jefferson, a Leo Grant. To be honest, I didn’t get the impression that either of them were arsonists.”

“Where would they get the stuff to make the thermite?” asked Sam. He was no longer looking at me. Instead he stared out the front windshield. I couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or anger.

“They’d get it from a chemical supply company. The only one even remotely near us is Chesapeake Chemical.”

“Really?” Sam leaned over me and opened his glove compartment. He took out a piece of paper. “So I guess that explains why this showed up on my desk yesterday. I’m not sure if it was meant for me, though. It had a note attached that said it was for a Detective Williams. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?”

Shit, he had caught me dead to rights on this one. “I might.”

“Look, I’m happy you’re helping with this case. I’m willing to cut you some slack and get you access that you wouldn’t be able to otherwise. But you can’t break the law Riley. Impersonating an officer? That’s a crime. If you were anyone else I would arrest you.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I just … I wasn’t thinking and panicked.”

“Don’t be sorry, just don’t do it again.”

There was an awkward minute of silence. Then Sam broke it.

“Take a look at what it says.” Sam was referring to the paper. He handed it over to me.

I took a look at the paper. It was a list of everyone who had ordered powdered aluminum, iron oxide and rolls of magnesium. There weren’t many customers who bought any of them. Narrowing down who ordered all three was easy.

“R. Branch at Twelve Pine Lane? Where the hell is Pine Lane?” I’d never heard of the address, which was strange because according to the paper it was in Stone Harbor. I had lived in Stone Harbor my whole life. Not once had I ever heard of Pine Lane.

“I was going to go check that out tonight. But considering everything that’s happened … I’m going to wait till tomorrow.”

“You’re going to wait? Why?”

“Because you’re coming with me. I need that big brain of yours.”

I leaned over and hugged Sam. That time, it wasn’t awkward. It felt right. When we were done, he started the car.

“We have to go back to the station. You need to give a statement about what happened here. Think you’re up for that?”

“Sure.”

“And once that’s done we can go get a drink or something. Maybe that will help you get your mind off of all this. What do you say? That sound good to you?”

For once I didn’t protest. After the night I’d had, maybe Sam’s affections weren’t such a bad thing. “Yeah, it does. Let’s do it.”