Cause to Hide

“Ah, Detective Black,” Sloane said with genuine cheer as she looked up from her laptop. “It’s so good to see you! I was very pleased to hear from you when you called. How have you been?”

“Things are good,” Avery said. But in the back of her mind she knew that Sloane would jump at the opportunity to analyze her issues with Rose and her complicated relationship with Ramirez.

“What can I do for you today?” Sloane asked.

“Well, I was hoping to get your insights into a particular personality type. I’m leading up a case involving a man that we are fairly certain is burning his victims. He’s left only bones and ash behind at the crime scene – cleaned bones, with no charring or damage. There’s also a pile of ash and a slight chemical smell to the air…coming from the ash, I think. It’s pretty clear he knows what he’s doing. He knows how to burn a body, which seems like a very specific knowledge to have. But I don’t think he’s using the fire solely as a tool for his acts. I need to know what sort of person would not only use fire in such a way but also use it as some sort of symbolism.”

“The idea that he’s using the fire as a symbol of sorts is a great deduction,” Sloane said. “In a case like this, I can almost guarantee you that’s what’s going on. At the heart of it, I think you might be dealing with someone that has an interest or maybe even a background in arson. Maybe he once had a job or hobby that included fire as a part of it. Studies have shown pretty resolutely that even children who are fascinated with campfires or matches show signs of an interest in arson-related acts.”

“Can you tell me anything about that sort of personality that might help us get this guy sooner rather than later?”

“I can certainly try,” Sloane said. “First of all, there’s going be some sort of mental issues, but nothing too deep. It could just be something as simple as a tendency towards anger in even the most innocent of situations. He’ll likely also be undereducated. Most repeat arsonists didn’t graduate high school. Some see it as a way to rebel against a system they could never understand – the whole some men just want to watch the world burn nonsense. Some will claim they set fires as an act of revenge but can never define what it is they are seeking revenge against.

“They usually feel isolated or set apart from the world. So there’s a good chance you’re looking for either a single man or a man that is part of a loveless marriage. I’d expect he lives alone in a small house – probably spends a lot of time in a home office, basement, or garage of some kind.”

“And what happens when you mix all of that with someone that clearly has no issue with killing people?”

“That does make it tricky,” Sloane admitted. “But I think the same rules apply. Arsonists are usually very interested in people seeing what they’ve done. Setting fires is a way to attract attention. They’re almost proud of it, like it’s something they created. As for your suspect leaving the remains…that’s a strange one. I suppose it could be linked to reports of arsonists visiting the scene of their fires to watch firemen put them out. The arsonist sees the firefighters working hard and feels that he made that happen – that the arsonist is, in a sense, controlling the firefighters.”

“So do you think our suspect might be hanging out nearby, watching?”

Sloane considered it for a moment and then shrugged. “It’s certainly a possibility. But the precision which you said he’s burning the bodies – right down to clean bone – makes me think that this guy is also patient and organized. I don’t think he’d so something as foolish as revisiting the scene of a crime.”

Patient and organized, Avery thought. That goes right along with his exquisite planning, using fog as cover to get his victims and dump the remains.

She thought of the way the bones had been put almost on display – almost as jarring and as obvious as a raging fire.

“Do you have any opinions on the case yet?” Sloane asked.

“I’m thinking it’s a serial killer. As far as we know, this is his first victim but the blatant way he displayed the remains irks me. More than that, there’s something very organized about collecting a victim, burning them just right, and then dumping the remains in a specific manner. It screams serial tendencies to me.”

“I’d agree with that,” Sloane said.

“I just wish some of the men I work with were that bright,” Avery said with a smirk.

“So how are you doing these days, Avery? No bullshit, please.”

“I really am okay, all things considered. For the first time in my life, my problems seem sort of normal compared to my past.”

“What sort of normal problems?” Sloane asked.

“Problems with my daughter. Relationship confusion with a guy.”

“Ah, the perils of a hard-working woman.”

Avery smiled, although she sensed a deeper conversation coming on. This was why she sighed internally when her phone rang at that exact moment. She dug it out of her pocket and saw Connelly’s number. “I have to take this.”

She nodded.

Avery stepped out of the office and answered the call in the hallway.

“Black, don’t let this go to your head, but you were right. Dental records came back from the remains. You nailed it. The victim is Keisha Lawrence. Thirty-nine years old and lived within a mile of the area.”

“What else do we know?” Avery said, looking past the compliments.

“Enough to ramp this thing up a bit,” he said. “I’ve got some guys digging on this but right now we know for sure that she had no immediate family in the area. The only person of interest we have is a boyfriend and a mother that died pretty recently.”

“Has anyone spoken with the boyfriend yet?”

“I’ve got someone on it right now. Meanwhile, I ran his background. This jack-off has a rap sheet of domestic abuse and bar fights. A real champ, this one.”

“Want me to get to him after your current guy?”

“Yes…go talk to this creep next. I’ll call Ramirez and get him off of the Boston College detail. He’s all yours for the rest of the day.”

Did she pick up a hint of sarcasm in his voice? She was pretty sure she had. Either that or she was getting paranoid.

Your sex life is not that important, she thought. Get over yourself.

“Haul ass, Black,” Connelly said. “Let’s get this guy before another pile of bones turns up.”

Avery ended the call and hurried down to the parking garage for a car. She thought of what Sloane had said about arsonists often watching firemen at work, feeling that they were controlling the firemen in a way.

Maybe we need to add potential voyeur to the list of potential suspect characteristics, she thought.

As for arsonists wanting to feel that they were controlling the people working to understand his crimes…Avery Black was no fireman and she sure as hell didn’t like feeling like someone was controlling her.

She pulled out of the parking garage quickly, the tires making a quick and satisfying shriek of traction as she sped out. Keisha Lawrence’s boyfriend was their first real lead on this case and Avery wanted to pay him a visit before anyone else.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Avery parked in front of the boyfriend’s apartment just as Ramirez was getting out of his own car in front of her. He gave her a smile that felt different than usual. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, they were bonding in a way that went much deeper than a simple partnership at work.

“How were things at the college?” Avery asked as they met at the stairs to the house.

“Stuffy. Some stupid protest-related thing. So what’s the deal here?”

“Boyfriend with an aggressive past. Pretty rough abuse-related rap sheet. I got a call on the way over that says he was almost confrontational with the police who broke the news.”

“So fun times ahead, huh?” Ramirez asked.

Avery nodded as they started up the stairs. She buzzed the doorbell and listened to heavy footsteps approaching the door. Within seconds, a slightly heavyset man answered the door. He was thick in the gut, but shoulders and arms that had clearly seen some time in the gym stood out from the tank top he wore. Both arms were decorated with several tattoos, one of which was a naked woman straddling a skull.

“Yeah?” he said, sounding more irritated than sad.

“Are you Adam Wentz?” Avery asked.

“Who’s asking?”