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“Yeah, just got added to the task force,” he answered, ramping up the speed of his words. “Why? What's going on?”
“Jackson Reynolds, you met him at the Harvest Dance, he and I... we've been seeing each other. He got caught in the warehouse fire. He's critically ill.”
“Oh, Liv. I’m so sorry to hear that. Is he going to be okay? Does his family need anything?”
“I don't know if he’s going to make it, Brad. His family is being taken care of, but… it’s the whole case. Jackson was the newborn found in the original Waverly estate fire. His mom was Rainey Ashcroft. She was engaged to Christopher Waverly. No surviving Ashcroft has been found.”
“Wait, what? That's... a lot to take in. What's the connection to the recent fires?”
“At every fire scene, we've found the dead body of an old town council member. Beneath each body was a glass vial marked with a phoenix. A body was found at the warehouse fire. It’s pending identification. But it’s following the pattern. There was another glass vial.
“I did some digging. The old council was corrupt; they'd do anything to get their way. I think they might have been involved in my father's death too. And Jackson's dad died in the same fire as my dad; he was fighting with the council at the time.”
“Liv, this is getting deeper than I imagined. What have you found on the Waverly family?” Brad questioned.
“I interviewed them, but... I came up empty. Although, I have a hunch that Sinclair might be Jackson's real father. I stole a cigar butt from him, and I’m having it tested,” she admitted.
"Liv, be careful. You don’t want to draw their ire," Brad urged, his voice laced with worry. "This sounds dangerous. What about your partner? What does he think about all of this?"
Olivia's breath caught in her throat as she struggled to find the words to explain. "Michael broke into my apartment earlier today," she admitted, her voice trembling with disbelief. "He professed his desire for me."
A heavy silence hung between them before he insisted, "Liv, you need to stay away from him.” His tone mirrored the turmoil raging within her. “He knows about you and Jackson?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t like it. Make sure you’re not alone with him.”
Olivia, though invisible to Brad, shook her head, her mind swirling with a tumult of emotions. "I don't know what to think anymore," she confessed, “but something doesn't add up. The night of the consumer club fire, I was working a case in the county. I called Michael. He said he was home asleep and would meet me.” She paused as the memory filled her mind. “Brad, he beat me to the warehouse. I was ahead of him. It would’ve been impossible for him to beat me—what if he was already there?” As she spoke, Olivia's fear and confusion grew.
“When was the last time you ate or slept? You can’t focus hungry and exhausted.”
She ignored his question. “Can I meet with you?” Liv asked, urgency in her voice. “There's something I need to show you. I think Jackson may have found components of these small devices that started the fires. And I found a device using white phosphorous. They burn hot and fast and are easy to hide.”
Brad agreed without hesitation. Liv hung up the phone, feeling better than she had since the fires started.
* * *
Liv followed Brad through the winding halls of the State Highway Patrol headquarters, her steps echoing softly against the polished linoleum floors. As they reached Brad's office, he turned to her with a warm, welcoming smile, his arms open in a gesture of comfort. “Liv,” he greeted her, his voice filled with genuine concern. “You look exhausted.”
The sincerity in Brad's words was enough to break through Liv's carefully constructed façade. In the safety of his embrace, the walls she had erected around her heart crumbled. The tears she had been holding back for so long finally spilled forth in a torrent of emotion.
Brad held her close, offering her the relief she desperately needed as she poured out her heart to him. She spoke of the fires that had ravaged their city, of Jackson's critical condition, and of the overwhelming sense of helplessness that seemed to consume her in the face of the devastation.
It was the mention of the warehouse fire that steeled her gaze. She retrieved the evidence bag filled with what she and Luke had painstakingly collected.
Together, Liv and Brad made their way to the lab, the evidence bag cradled carefully in Liv's hands. The examiner asked for some time.
Brad suggested they grab breakfast while they waited. They returned to his office, plates piled high with steaming food as they settled in to eat.
As they shared their meal, Brad took Liv through a list of potential suspects, each name accompanied by a brief summary of their possible involvement in the fires. A line ran through Jackson’s name. Liv's gaze lingered on Michael's name, a flicker of uncertainty dancing in the depths of her eyes. She had the same reaction when she saw Jackson’s name on the whiteboard in her office.
“I took Jackson off the list and added Michael to the list after our call. At the Harvest Festival, I got a whiff of jealousy. But,” Brad couldn't hide his disbelief, “he had the audacity to let himself into your place. “Considering what’s happening, that’s not normal behavior. It’s downright creepy. Here are the background checks I started running when I was put on the taskforce. I added a background check on Michael.”
The soft glow of the computer monitor illuminated Brad's office as he turned it toward her. Liv's heart pounded in her chest as she leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the screen.
“What did you find?” She nervously waited for Brad to reveal the results of his investigation.
Brad's expression was grim as he gestured toward the screen. “Take a look.”
