The chief shook his head. “I'm sorry about what happened to your brother.” He held out his hand. “Patrick Stevens. I'm the new chief. I apologize for not returning your last few e-mails and phone calls. I've been swamped these past couple of weeks getting up to speed. Since you're in town, would you like to arrange a time to sit down and discuss the situation?”
She blinked hard, tried to get everything untangled in her head. And heart. “Yes. Thanks. I'm in Lake Tahoe to investigate the Desolation Wilderness fire currently burning,” she said, each word sounding robotic and stiff to her own ears as she tried to get herself back on track, “but as soon as I wrap this up, I'll come by your office.”
He nodded. “I'm happy to help any way I can. Tony was a good one. Real good. He's been missed.” He paused, clearly uncertain about whether he should continue.
Hope flared in her chest. “What is it? Have you learned something?”
He shook his head. “No. In fact, I was going to say that all signs point to the fire that took Tony's life being an accident. You know that, don't you?”
It was just what she was afraid of. They were getting ready to close Tony's case for good.
“Signs aren't good enough,” Maya said. “I want facts.” Even though facts wouldn't bring Tony back. Nothing would.
Just then, Logan shifted beside them and she realized he'd been standing there the entire time, listening quietly.
So much for keeping secrets from him. She hadn't wanted him to know about Tony. Too much personal information in the wrong hands was never a good thing. Who knew what he'd try to pull now that he had even more ammo to use against her?
But instead of asking about her brother, Logan pointed to the box at Patrick's feet. “Is this all you were able to recover from Room 205?”
“I'm afraid so,” Patrick replied. “The rest of your luggage is gone, Ms. Jackson.”
Maya squatted down to get a better look. She didn't care about losing her clothes, her makeup, or even her computer, which lay in a melted black heap in the bottom of the box.
“Did anything survive the fire?” she asked the chief, as she stood back up on shaky legs.
“Actually, yes. We did found something else in the room. Something I don't like the look of at all.”
He reached into his pocket and took out a Zip-loc bag.
“It's a letter with your name on it. It was in a firebox. We're going to check for prints, but I doubt we'll find anything.”
Maya's entire body went still. Someone was sending her a message. From the corner of her eye, she watched Logan carefully, looking for a reaction, but he seemed as surprised as she was.
Had he done this? Or was the perpetrator someone else, someone she wouldn't suspect until it was too late?
Her instincts had always been a driving force in her investigations. But this case was different.
She'd never been intimate with her suspect before.
As she took the bag from Patrick, she kept her breathing even and steady. Freaking out wouldn't help a thing. Even if being left a personal note in a motel room on fire was definitely not a good sign.
First Logan, now this.
She pulled out a sterile pair of rubber gloves from her bag and made sure her hands were completely steady before she slipped them on.
“You don't think this was an accident, do you?” she asked the chief.
“I wish I did. But whoever lit this fire knew exactly what they were doing. Just a little smoke at first, nothing anyone would notice until it was big enough to start blowing the roof off one piece at a time.”
Her heart thudded heavily beneath her breastbone as she digested his words. Hotshots possessed encyclopedic knowledge of fire behavior.
A couple of firefighters called out from the section of roof that remained, “Fire's nearly under control,” and Maya looked back at the building, fighting off the sick sense that she'd fallen into a rabbit hole, one that was dropping her straight onto the day her brother had died. This motel fire was far too similar to the apartment fire that had taken Tony's life.
“Open the letter, Maya.”
Logan's soft words startled her. Drowning in what-ifs and should-have-beens, she'd nearly forgotten about the letter.
Arsonists rarely got to see the fear in their victims' eyes. Did he want her to open it in front of him so that he could relish her reaction? Because if Logan was her arsonist, this moment would make his crime so much more satisfying.