Page 104 of Serial Burn

Lights had been set up outside and part of one filtered through the broken windows, casting shadows across her path. She swept her high-powered flashlight over the area and stopped. The damage patterns caught her attention, and she noted the deep char along the western wall just above the purple stain on the floor. “Well, guess you started there,” she murmured. “And with exactly the same materials.” She’d known it, of course. Hadn’t doubted it, but having it confirmed just fueled her determination to catch this guy.

Jesslyn moved cautiously, the smell of burned wood mingling with the acrid sting of melted plastics. Debris crunched beneath her feet.

She stopped, listening for any hint that the structure might collapse, but so far there was nothing.

“Excuse me. Jesslyn McCormick?”

She turned to see a man dressed in the same gear she sported. “That’s me.”

He walked over to her. “I’m Pete Bennett, one of the fire marshals from Boone. Chief Laramie asked me to come down and take a look at this one.”

Jesslyn blinked. “He did?”

“Said a new pair of eyes might be a good thing.”

“I see. The chief didn’t say anything to me.”

“Oh, right, well, maybe he just hasn’t had a chance to.”

“He did say someone would be here to show me where the second piece of jewelry was found.”

“Second piece?”

“Yes. That’s why they called me.”

“Oh. Right. Um, well, we can talk about that in a minute. I wanted to show you this place back near the freezer.” He waved a hand for her to follow, and she did so, looking back over her shoulder. She and this guy were the only two people inside the scene. She could see others walking past what used to be walls, but she suddenly felt very isolated.

“I think that’s where the fire originally started,” he was saying. “I also think that once the people were scared out of the store, the guy set more fires.”

“I had the fire starting on the west wall over there.” Jesslyn pointed, then followed. “Why do you say it’s over here?”

“Well, there may be multiple starting points. Come take a look.”

He wasn’t wrong. In fact, he was very right. And he was saying all the right things, but there was something about him...

The closer she got to the back of the store, the more her nerves itched. She stopped. “Who are you again?”

He turned and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t fight me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“What?”

She took a step backward and her ankle twisted. She went down with a grunt, leaving him holding her glove. He grabbed for her and she swung. The angle was awkward, but she managed to clip him on his mask. He jerked back and she rolled to her knees in an attemptto scramble to her feet. Before she could rise or call out for help, he pushed her once more and she went flat to the ground, face down. A knee went into her lower back and she gasped.

“Be quiet. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her heart hammered in her throat. She tried to buck him off, but he was too strong and the gear was weighing her down. He pulled her arm back.

“What do you want?” she gasped.

Something stung her exposed wrist and she flinched. He stepped back and she rolled over to glare at him. He stood with a syringe in one hand. A strange lethargy started to invade her.

“What did you do?”

“It’s okay, it’s just scopolamine.”

“But ... why?”

“For your own good,” he muttered. “I tried to warn you.”

---