that knocks out the next wave of applicants who may have knowledge but not the physical ability to perform the tasks.”
Snorting, Jonas said, “Hell, most of these people who apply in the first wave have no idea what they’re facing, do they?”
“They should. All that information is on the website now, easy to access. But you’re right, they want the glory and the adrenaline rush but can’t do the work or have the knowledge.”
“And, of course, that’s where some of our arsonists come from.” Looking back up at Sean, Jonas asked, “So, the ones who make it to the next level get fingerprinted?”
“Once they get past the written and physical test, then there’s an interview in front of a board of firefighters. Beyond that is an interview with the chief of the department, and then beyond that is an investigation of their background and a full physical exam.”
“So, we would only have the fingerprints of those who’ve made it to almost getting an offer of employment?”
“About seventy percent of all fire department calls are for medical emergencies, not fires. So, firefighters have to be trained in medical emergency response, and in most places, it’s now a mandatory prerequisite. If you don’t already have that, then the applicant can improve their chance of employment by taking those medical emergency classes at a community college.”
The two men sat quietly for a moment, the noise of their department in the background as they sifted through the information in front of them. Rubbing his hand over his chin, Sean finally said, “You know, someone who took, paid for, studied, and passed those medical emergency classes and then went to the trouble to make it through the written and agility tests but still didn’t get hired could have a lot of resentment.”
Jonas agreed. “Then maybe we’ve found a place to narrow our search or at least a good place to start.”
“I’m going to keep putting all these names in a spreadsheet so we’ll have something to compare it to with the purchases, but why don’t you take the applicant list and narrow it down by those who almost made it but were cut right at the end?”
“And what about John Simpson?” Jonas asked.
“I’m looking into him. Don’t know that I’ll find anything, but I’ll look.”
Nodding slowly, Jonas said, “Yeah, you’re probably right. Hell, there’s probably no kid who ever got a chemistry set for Christmas who didn’t like to figure out how to start a fire. But then most of them probably didn’t have the nickname Firestarter.”
Sean said nothing but agreed, silently hating that John was someone Harper seemed to like to work with. Thinking of her had him glance at the clock again, anticipating lunch. That one thought had his lips curving into a slight smile.
17
Running late. Sorry
Harper went into Casey’s diner having received Sean’s text. Well known for its food, Casey’s was like a typical diner car… a silver bullet with a long bar down the middle and booths along the front windows. Already crowded, she settled into a booth, ordering iced teas for both her and Sean.
“Hey, Harper!”
Whipping around when she heard the familiar voice, she smiled as Bill walked over, another firefighter in tow.
“Are you here by yourself?” His eyes stayed pinned on her, his typical flirty smile in place.
“I’m expecting Sean.”
While his friend went up to the counter to order for both of them, Bill slid into the seat across from her. “Is it getting serious between you two?”
Giving him a pointed stare that she hoped indicated it really was not his business, she shrugged. “We’ve just started going out.”
Bill grunted slightly, then mumbled, “Arson detective, right?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head slightly at the odd tone of his voice. He grunted again and she finally asked, “Is there anything wrong with that?”
This time he grinned and held her gaze. “Nah. I guess if you can’t be a homicide detective, then anything else will do.”
“What are you talking about?”
With his forearms resting on the table, he turned his hands palm up and said, “Oh, come on, Harper. You watch TV. The guys with the best jobs are those who are going after murderers.”
“You do realize that you sound like a twelve-year-old when you talk like that, right?”
His grin widened. “Hey, can I help it if I’m an adrenaline junkie? I like battling the blaze on the front line, not poking around the ashes when it’s all over with.” Her glare threatened to sear right through him, and he quickly threw up