Page 3 of Burning Justice

With his free hand, Brett drew his weapon, aiming in on the suspect. He shined the light into the guy’s face, blinding him and forcing him to fling his hands in front of his eyes.

“Police. Don’t move!” He focused the light on the suspect’s hands, checking them for weapons, but there were none. “Roll onto your stomach! Do it now!”

The man complied, mumbling, “Just keep the dog off me.”

Brett stuck the end of the flashlight in his mouth and holstered. He grabbed a set of handcuffs from the back of his belt. In seconds, he had the guy cuffed, then patted him down for weapons.

The guy was more of a kid, really. Tall and lanky, covered in soot and smelling like smoke and some kind of accelerant. Probably what Blaze had hit on so quickly. No guns or knives that he could feel. He pulled several items from the guy’s pants pockets. Two small butane lighters and a box of matches.

“I didn’t do it,” the kid shouted. “I swear it. I didn’t set this fire.”

Yeah, right. The evidence in his pockets said otherwise.

Behind him, boots pounded over the hard earth. Another flashlight beam bobbed closer.

“Brett, you good?” Danny asked between breaths as his light landed on Brett’s prisoner.

No longer needing it, he took the flashlight from his mouth, clicked it off and stuck it back in his belt. “Yeah, I’m good,” he called over his shoulder, then slipped Blaze a freeze-dried liver treat as a reward. “What’s your name?” He hadn’t found a wallet or any other form of ID. “What’s your name?” he repeated more firmly when the kid didn’t respond.

“Gavin.”

“Gavin what?” Again, no immediate response. “You’re going to be lying here face down in the grass for a long time if you don’t tell me your full name.”

Gavin exhaled on a groan. “Aldrich.”

“Well, Gavin Aldrich. Are you willing to talk to me?” If so, Brett would read him his rights and get straight to the point.

“Yeah. I didn’t do it,” he repeated. “I didn’t set this fire.”

The possibility that he was telling the truth was about as likely as Blaze standing up on his hind legs, saluting the American flag, and singing “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Then again… His dog actually did salute, and he did like talking back to the TV.

He hauled Aldrich into a sitting position, then read the kid his rights, grateful for Danny’s presence as a witness. Whatever else Aldrich admitted to, Brett didn’t want to risk losing it on a technicality.

“Well?” Brett prodded. “You said you were willing to talk, so talk. Why’d you torch this warehouse?”

Aldrich’s mouth opened, then snapped shut. His lips compressed into a tight line. The kid looked away, his lower lip trembling. Seemed like the moment of cooperation was now null and void. Whatever was going on, he’d get it out of the kid sooner or later. Nothing like a night in jail to loosen lips.

“Let’s go.” Brett grabbed Aldrich’s elbow and helped him to stand.

Surprisingly, by the time they returned to the warehouse parking lot, the fire was nearly out, which was a good thing. The priorities and necessities of fire suppression could inadvertently destroy or conceal evidence, and Brett wanted to get Blaze in there ASAP.

As they drew nearer, a firefighter approached them. “The fire’s still burning on one side of the warehouse, but we found something you need to see.” The firefighter—S. Downing, according to his coat name tag—hitched his head toward the side of the building that was no longer on fire.

Gemma appeared behind them, holding up her credentials. “I’m coming with you.”

Downing looked at her, then gave a slight shake of his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s still dangerous in there. It’s—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” This time, Brett was sure Gemma rolled her eyes. “The fire might restart. We could be electrocuted by downed power lines. Residual particulate inhalation. Structural weakness could cause the rest of the building to collapse on our heads. I’m aware.”

“Apparently so.” Downing cleared his throat. “My mistake.”

Brett did his best to contain a snort. The lady might be small in stature, but she had balls, and she knew her fire scenes.

“No problem,” Gemma replied as she began tapping the tip of her boot on the asphalt. “Let’s go. Time’s a-wasting.”

“I’ve got him.” Danny grinned, obviously amused by the ballsy exchange as he took custody of Gavin Aldrich. “I’ll put him in my car.”

“Thanks.” To the firefighter, he said, “Give me a minute.”