Karen Rose - Silent Scream

If Micah and Olivia had a past, at least they had no present. David had kept a close enough eye on her that he’d have known. But if she did have someone? I’ll walk away.

And if she doesn’t have anyone but just doesn’t want you? Given the facts, that was the more likely outcome. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.

“Where can I step?” Micah called from the doorway.

“Floor’s solid where you’re standing,” David said, forcing himself to focus yet again, “but it gets spongy about two feet from the edge of the hole.”

Micah looked up, then down, just as David had. “Goddamn. You’re a lucky bastard.”

“Yeah, I got that part,” David said. “Over here was what we wanted you to see. They poured the carpet padding glue along this line.” David pointed to the pour patterns zigzagging from the front door of the unit to the hole, continuing through to the back bedrooms. “It’s the same pour pattern we found on the second floor. I think they poured a line from the door and from the back of the unit, meeting here.”

“Makes sense,” Micah said, filming. “They probably dumped what was left in the cans where the floor failed. Fire would have been hotter there. The manager said rolls of carpet were stored here, same place on each floor. Waterlogged, that would have been enough weight to crash through the second and third floors. When the first floor collapsed, all three carpet rolls fell into the basement.”

For a minute David thought Micah would venture to the edge of the hole to get video straight down, but he stopped while still in the safe zone. From the corner of his eye, David could see Jeff’s mouth snap shut, discarding the warning he’d been about to bark. It hadn’t taken more than a few runs with Jeff to know cops made him real edgy.

“After they poured the glue, they tossed the cans to the side.” David pointed with the end of his Halligan, and Micah kept filming. “Two cans there, and two more upstairs, roughly in the same spot. Together with the one we found at the entrance, they poured out five. One can on each floor would have been too much. These were amateurs.”

“I think you’re right.” Micah lowered the camera. “Anything else you see?”

“We’re working our way outward,” Jeff said, tapping his way as he went.

David did the same, then stopped when his Halligan hit something soft and he heard the crackle of charred paper. “Look at that.”

Jeff sighed. “Last time you said that I had to pull your ass out of the abyss.”

But David was already kneeling, shining his light on what he’d found. “It’s a backpack, or it was anyway.”

“We’ll get it to the lab,” Micah said. “Maybe they can find something left.”

Jeff gently nudged the corner of the bag with his ax handle and part of the side crumbled away. “Good luck with that. What the hell are you looking at, David?”

David had bent low, shining his light on a lump of black that stuck up from the debris. “I don’t know. Some kind of a case, warped open. Whatever it held is melted to the bottom of it.” A bit of pink plastic peeked from the charred lump.

“I’ll get some stills to show Homicide.” Micah sighed impatiently. “Damn. I’m late for their morning meeting.” He snapped a few pictures with his digital camera. “CSU will bag it. We’ll figure out what it is at the lab. I’ll be back later. Don’t touch anything.”

“We’re not stupid,” Jeff muttered when Micah was gone.

“Neither is he,” David said absently, still staring at the case’s melted contents.

“He’s a cop,” Jeff stated flatly, “and they all want to be firefighters. Idiots. They’d burn up if it weren’t for us, charging in without gear, with the wrong kind of extinguisher. Ready to save the damn day before they even know what kind of fire they got.”

David let him rant, knowing he’d say the same thing regardless of any response David made. There was a story there, he figured, and one day Jeff would tell it.

Story. David stared at the mangled case, his mind pulling a long-forgotten memory. He’d been a small boy, sitting on his grandmother’s lap. He’d always been more fascinated with gadgets than the story she’d tell, especially the gadget that sat behind her ear. He’d reach for it, only to have his small hands gently pushed away. No, David, she’d say, don’t touch. That’s not a toy.

“We should have told Barlow to bring us food,” Jeff finished with a sigh. “I’m starving. Let’s take a break and see what’s left on the truck. Hey. Dave. Come on.”

“I know what this pink plastic thing is,” David said.

“Don’t tell me. I want to guess,” Jeff said. “Okay, give me a hint.”

It was a game they sometimes played that helped them deal when they had to poke around the ashes of people’s lives. “It whistles as it works.” David straightened, hoping he could catch Micah before he left, but through the broken window he could see the cop’s taillights going through the gate.

Behind him, he heard Jeff’s heavy sigh and knew he’d figured it out. “Dammit, David. The girl never had a chance, did she?”

“Doesn’t look like it. I’m going outside to call Micah’s cell. He’ll want to tell Olivia.”

“Olivia?” Jeff asked, new curiosity in his voice. “You mean Detective Sutherland? She was pretty hot. And she was watching you.”

“Leave it alone,” David said flatly. “And don’t ask. I mean it.”

For all his teasing, Jeff knew when to quit. “Chill, man. I’m going out with you. I need to get some food.”

Monday, September 20, 8:00 a.m.

“Happy Monday.” Captain Bruce Abbott dropped a plastic bowl of cookies on the round table in his office. “Compliments of Lorna.”

Olivia eyed the bowl skeptically. “Lorna’s cooking again?”

Abbott settled into the chair behind his desk. “Her guidance counselor said if she retook the class and got a better grade, it would cancel last year’s D.”

Micki popped the lid off the bowl. “How bad can they be?”

“Some people ought not bake,” Kane said sourly.

“Got it.” Micki shot a wicked look at Olivia. “Let Barlow test them. If they’re awful, it’ll serve him right.” She glanced at Abbott. “No offense.”

Abbott’s lips were twitching beneath his mustache. “None taken.” He looked at the empty chairs meaningfully. “Speaking of which, where are Barlow and Gilles?”

“Ian’s not coming,” Olivia said. “He was almost ready to start the girl’s autopsy when I stopped by the morgue.”

Kane studied her face. “When did you stop by the morgue?” he asked, when Why didn’t you go home to sleep like I told you to? was what he really wanted to know.

“On my way in. I wanted a photo of the girl.” Which wasn’t entirely untrue. After her workout she’d gone home but couldn’t sleep, so she’d done what she always did-worked. “I don’t know where Barlow is. I told him oh-eight.”

“I’m here, I’m here.” Barlow barreled through Abbott’s doorway and dropped into a chair. Instantly, everyone leaned away from him. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I came straight from the scene. Didn’t have a chance to shower.”

“We can tell,” Micki said, then smiled kindly. “Here, have a cookie.”

Beside Olivia, Kane coughed to cover what would have been a chuckle.

“Thanks. I didn’t have time for breakfast.” Barlow grabbed a handful and Olivia felt the prick of conscience.

“I’d take a little bite first,” she said and he narrowed his eyes.

“You made these?” he asked suspiciously. “You trying to poison me now?”

Olivia rolled her eyes. Let him suffer. “Since we’re all here, we can get started.” She started to close Abbott’s door, but Abbott lifted his hand.