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The smell of smoke still hung in the air as Jackson surveyed the scene. The once-flaming dumpster now sat, a charred and twisted mess. His eyes scanned the area, searching for any clue that might hint at the cause of the blaze.
Jackson approached the two Waverly Junction police officers, Officer Faire and Officer Ramirez, who watched the fire company start cleaning up. “Faire, Ramirez, good to see you two here.” He nodded in appreciation.
“Hey, Reynolds. Looks like you got things under control pretty quickly,” Faire said.
“Thanks for keeping the fire from spreading. These small fires can go bad very fast.” Jackson turned in a circle.
“No problem. It's what we're here for,” Ramirez said.
Jackson pressed his lips together and blew out a breath. “Did you two happen to see anything before the fire broke out?”
“We got here just as things were heating up. The manager of the laundromat was out front, but she vanished when the flames started getting close to those trees over there,” Faire said.
“Disappeared, huh? Interesting. Well, thanks for the info, guys. I'll see if I can track her down. There’s always a fresh pot of coffee on in the station.”
Jackson stepped into the laundromat, the hum of dryers and the scent of detergent replacing the smell of burnt metal and smoke. Customers were going about their business, unfazed. He approached the staff, but his questions were met with shrugged shoulders and blank stares.
“No, Captain, that dumpster is for lint only. Got to clean the vents often,” one employee insisted, her eyes darting nervously. “Everyone knows how dangerous it can be.”
But something didn't add up. It was a cool day, not nearly hot enough for the lint to ignite spontaneously. And, according to the staff and customers, no one appeared to have discarded anything unusual in the dumpster.
Could this have been an act of arson? Or was it, as Olivia referred to the other incident, a “stupidity fire”?
Jackson felt frustrated. He wasn't getting anywhere.
As he walked back outside, he pulled out his phone and dialed the Waverly County Police Department. If the people here wouldn't talk to him, perhaps they'd open up to her.
“Waverly County Arson/Bomb Detective Everhart, may I help you?” she answered brightly.
“Hey, Liv, I need your help.” He watched as the last of his team boarded the engine, waiting for him to join them.
Three
With practiced efficiency, she radioed the officers at the scene, “Stay put till I get there. I’m on my way.”
Olivia pulled up to the scene, her eyes immediately scanning the area. As she entered the laundromat, the smell of detergent, a clean and slightly floral scent, mingled with the faint hint of fabric softener and lingered in the air. She asked the manager for the security footage, pointing to the camera overlooking the parking lot. The manager obliged, and Olivia watched the grainy film intently.
Her eyes narrowed as she saw a heated exchange between a nervous woman and a man she assumed to be her boyfriend or husband. The argument escalated, ending with him striking her.
“Damn.” It was a clear case of domestic violence and an automatic arrest. That was one crime she could solve today, but it wasn't linked to the fire. For that, she made a call to the Waverly Junction police.
Continuing her review of the footage, she spotted the true culprits. Three kids, no older than twelve, were using a slingshot to hurl flaming balls of paper into the dumpster. It took four tries, but eventually, the dumpster ignited.
Olivia let out a groan and gritted her teeth. This wasn't just criminal mischief; it was dangerous. She quickly notified Child Services. Although she hated the thought, these kids needed to be held accountable. Today it was a dumpster, but what if next time it was a house, or worse, they caused a death?
Hours later, Olivia headed over to the fire station. She found Jackson looking dead on his feet, his face smudged with soot. “Got a minute?”
Despite his exhaustion, Jackson’s face lit up when he saw her. He quickly masked it, but not before Olivia noticed the fleeting smile.
She leaned against the side of a gleaming fire truck. “Got some news about that dumpster fire.”
Jackson straightened, his fatigue buried. In his office, he listened intently as Olivia recounted her findings from the security footage. “He popped her. I guess that’s why the manager was antsy. Unfortunately, WJPD had to collar him. Domestic violence is an automatic arrest.
“The trio of kids responsible for the fire are still being tracked down. I’ll grab their photos off the video and take them up to the local elementary and middle schools. We should have them within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”
“Thanks, Liv.” His eyes held hers for a moment longer than necessary before he cleared his throat. “Hey, do you want to grab dinner? I just finished my seventy-two hours.”
“Sure, a girl needs to eat.” She laughed.
