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Luckily, I was only a few blocks from where I lived. The four-plex sat in the middle of the block surrounded by identical units built in the 1950s. From the outside, it was not much to look at. But I kept my unit nice and tidy. Although I did not have many furnishings yet, I had still made it as homey as possible. It was my refuge from the outside world. I could not wait to pull the door shut, kick out my shoes and try to make sense of what had happened today.
It was late spring and what had been a warm day turned chilly. I stuck my hands in my pockets, pulling the leather jacket more tightly around my body, and turned down Baxter Street. There was a strange odor in the air. I looked around, trying to identify its source, but the setting sun was in my eyes. It smelled like a campfire, only much more acrid. It burned my eyes. When it hit me what the odor was, I took off running. “Dear God, please let it not be my building.”
Logan
Like the smell of death, a house fire has an odor you never get used to. The blaze had been out for a couple of hours, but the air was still heavy with the nasty mix of smoke and sulfur. Fortunately, the building had been empty when the fire broke out and there were no injuries or casualties.
I was sitting behind the wheel of my Mustang, completing my preliminary report, when a young woman ducked under the yellow tape I had put up to protect the scene. She could not be there. It was dangerous. I stepped from the car to tell stop her but before I got the chance; she turned on me. “What the fuck happened?”
“There was a fire.”
“I can see that, you idiot. How did it happen?” Her eyes continued to glare at me, but when she took another look at the charred remains, her lower lip trembled. “I live—lived on the second floor.”
“It’s too early to say what caused it, but it looks like the fire started in the back of the building. An old wood structure like this, it didn’t take long before the whole place went up. We had a truck on scene three minutes after the call came in, but it was too late. It’s a total loss.” I added, hoping to make her feel better, “Nobody was hurt.”
“But what about my stuff? Everything I owned was in that building.”
“Stuff can be replaced. I’m assuming you have renter’s insurance?” I asked, even though I knew it would take several days to get everything sorted out.
“The policy was in my desk drawer.” She pointed to the rubble.
“Is there somebody you can call? Somewhere you can stay until you can file a claim with the insurance carrier?”
“I’ve got nobody,” she said flatly.
“What about the people you work with?” By now, I had recognized her as the ungrateful waitress from the Riverdell Diner.
“You mean the people I used to work with? Before you tried to play hero and got me fired?”
“They fired you?” The news made me feel like shit. I had just been trying to help. ‘I’ll talk to the owner tomorrow and square it with him. Explain it wasn’t your fault.”
“It wasn’t your fault either. I just said that because I’m upset and angry.” She gave a wan smile and shrugged. I had the idea that was the closest thing to an apology I would get and accepted it. “The guy you beat up, he’s my ex. He’s been hanging around the diner since I broke up with him, causing problems. There’s no way Al would take me back, no matter what you say to him. I don’t even blame him. This is all that douche bag Reggie’s fault.”
My brain kicked back into investigator mode. “Do you think he might have started the fire to get even with you?”
“God no. He’s trying to get me to move back in with him, not kill me. Besides, he was probably passed out drunk by the time the fire started.” Her deep brown eyes went wide. “Wait a minute. I thought you said you didn’t know how the fire started. Do you think it was deliberately set?”
The evidence in my trunk gave me reason to suspect exactly that, but I did not want to worry the woman. She had been through enough already. “I’m just looking into all possibilities. It is too early to determine a cause. I will have to come back tomorrow and do a thorough inspection of the scene in daylight. Then it will be a couple of weeks before I get test results from the lab.”
She seemed to accept my response. It was getting late, and I wanted to get home and grill my steak. “Is there someone else that might take you in for a couple of nights?”
“No one other than my mother. I’d rather sleep on the streets than stay with her. The last time I was at her place, the creep she lives with grabbed my ass when she wasn’t looking. Of course, the old bitch took his side.”
“I could give you a ride to the Holiday Inn. You would have to put the room on a credit card, but once the insurance company gets involved, they will reimburse you.”
“Fuck my life!” she yelled, before dropping to the sidewalk and sobbing. She was crying loud enough to draw the attention of the neighbors. Not wanting to create a scene, I asked her name and between sobs she told me.
“Ember, I’m Logan. It’s cold out here. Why don’t we go sit in my car and we can come up with a solution? Reluctantly, she let me guide her to the passenger seat. You see a lot of grief in a job like mine. I handed her the handkerchief I kept in my pocket for times like these. She dried her cheeks and blew her nose and then looked at me.
“Don’t think I’m some emotional twat who falls to pieces whenever things get tough. I’m not. Today has just been a special kind of shitty.” She explained how after being fired that afternoon; her car and purse had been stolen. The thief had gotten her last paycheck and ID, along with her bank cards and credit cards. “All I wanted to do was come home and forget about everything for a few minutes.” She looked out the window and started to cry again. “But I don’t have a home anymore.”
She literally had no place to go. Hotels would require a credit card, even the shelters would need to see identification. Unable to just leave her to sleep on the streets, I said the first thing that popped into my head. “You can spend the night with me.”
She grabbed the door handle and was halfway out of the car before I realized how my words must have sounded to her. “Wait, hold on a second. I didn’t mean it that way.” She stopped but did not shut the door. “We have two bedrooms and my roommate, he was with me the other day at the diner—wiry guy, soulful brown eyes?” She stared without expression. “Anyway, he won’t be home tonight, so there is plenty of room.”
We both knew she was out of options, but she was still reluctant to accept my offer. She did not strike me as someone who is comfortable accepting the charity of others. “Honestly, you’d be doing me a favor. I hate eating alone. Do you like steak?”
“I find eating the flesh of animals repulsive.”
