Page 128 of Forget Me Not

“It is, unfortunately, not a crime to stink,” Penn observed, almost wistfully.

Ray cocked his head to the side. “There are people in there.”

“Homeless?” Penn leaned back to consider the building. It was stone and brick, possibly pre-War, with five stories and a small structure on the roof.

Ray listened and considered. “No. Security maybe. Two of them, or… two of them talking. Football,” he noted. “They’re on the ground floor. But… there’s movement several floors above them, and someone talking very quietly or a radio on low. I only get the impression of speech, not clear words.” He’d hear more as a wolf, but a giant wolf would attract attention.

“Do you think they’re here to prevent a fire, or this is where something was supposed to happen until the people in the building next door complained and everyone started poking around?” Penn took a picture of the Leland Properties sign with all the contact information. “That might make another fire more suspicious, but people in the Fire Department can be bought or intimidated like anyone else. Any locals who might sue or hire investigators, if they had the resources, well, that can take years.”

“And there’s no Beast anymore,” Ray murmured to himself. And if there had been, there was no single person for the Beast to go after. Preventing a fire today was good, but wouldn’t stop another move tomorrow. He thought vaguely of the greedy dragons battled in fairy tales, then spent several moments feeling ashamed of himself before one of the people inside the building opened a window.

They had to be on a different side of the building, because Ray couldn’t see anything. But the sound was distinct, and then their voices got clearer, if not louder.

“I feel like it’s giving me a headache. I bet this shit is cancerous. Didn’t even give us gloves.”

“Shut up. I opened a window, didn’t I? You aren’t supposed to stand next to it and huff it, for fuck’s sake. You put some down where they said, you leave and let it work.”

“Until what?”

“Ray, we should get back before…”

Ray held up a hand, turning his head to follow the sound as one of the people inside moved. A sudden cacophony of slowly clanging metal drowned out some of the response. An antique elevator, if Ray had to guess. He was surprised it was still operational.

“…Speed things along. Make it look more like age. Take away the need for anything big. Just hurry up so we can get out of here.”

“They’re doing something,” Ray explained to Penn in a whisper. “Not necessarily bad, but it doesn’t sound like security work.” The elevator went up, stopping at about the fourth floor, Ray guessed.

Above that, on the fifth floor there was still isolated movement and the sound of speech. The volume hadn’t changed. Probably a radio, then. And a voice, indistinct, mumbling something. There must be an open window or two on that floor as well for Ray to have heard that without actual wolf ears.

“I think someone is using the building for shelter, despite the fence and the people there. The other two must not know.” The pair who seemed to belong there would chase out anyone else if theywereup to something.

Penn was anxiously flipping her phone around and around, probably worrying about who to call if they had to call someone. “Fire Department,” she decided out loud. “If there’s an issue. Can say I thought I saw smoke.”

“If we have time,” Ray agreed, trying to track the person on the fourth floor as they moved around. They took the stairs to the next floor down, pausing once to swear loudly, then continuing down.

“We can’t go in on your word as a were,” Penn informed Ray gently. “They’ll cast doubt on that right now. Anyway, I’m off-duty and you’re not supposed to be anywhere near that alley.”

“We were on our way to your car,” Ray excused them both with the truth. “And if they want to cast doubt on all our cases as well as some of theirs, they’re welcome to distrust me now.” He said that part through his teeth. “But we’re outside the fence. Short of an actual fire, there is no reason to change that.”

The person on the ground floor knocked over something metal, something large enough for the sound to travel. The slosh of liquid followed.

Ray took a few steps closer to the open gate then raised his head and inhaled through his nose. “Could be kerosene.”

“An insurance fraud classic,” Penn remarked. “Throw in some camping supplies, an old sleeping bag, blame the fire on squatters, collect the money. In this case, millions in real estate potential.”

Ray inhaled again, then coughed, his breath catching in his throat. The area in front of the gate was empty. Just one patch of brown grass by the sidewalk and some industrial trashcans overflowing with torn tarps and pieces of old wood and stone, as if construction or repair had been attempted at some point, then abandoned. He inhaled again, letting his eyes close while he picked apart traces in the breeze; stale beer from cans left around the rest of the trash, several more cartons from takeout places, recent enough to have bits of rotting food, a paper coffee cup. The security people, or whoever they were, had been around the building in the past several days. That was interesting, but not…

Ray stepped past the open gate.

Penn pulled at his sleeve without stopping him. “Ray!” Her whisper was furious and anxious all at once.

Ray put out a hand toward her, but his throat was tight. He inhaled.

Chemicals from the building in front of him, sharp and noxious. Pasta sauce in a takeout box. Something that had once held noodles. Another can of beer. Ray tossed them out of the trashcan along with burger wrappers; they were evidence of bored guards more or less living here for about three days, nothing else.

He dug in deeper.

“Ray,” Penn snarled quietly from his elbow, but stopped when Ray pulled the jumpsuit out of the trash, then a small towel and a white shirt, now stained with food remnants.

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