Part 17 (1/2)

”We still have work to do,” she said. She was starting to get irritated. How many different ways did she have to tell him that she did not want their romantic entanglements to interfere with their work? She really didn't want to be a b.i.t.c.h about it, but he was leaving her no choice.

”You work your a.s.s off,” Ramirez said. ”It's okay to take five or ten minutes for yourself.” As he said this, he increased the pressure on his shoulders. His hands also slid a bit lower below her neck.

”For what?” she asked, shrugging off his hands. ”You want me to just throw everything on my desk onto the floor so you can bang me on it? Want a quickie on my desk? Or maybe in a janitor's closet? Jesus, Ramirez...grow up and do your job.”

”No, I didn't want a quickie on your desk,” he said, offended.

”Then what is it?” she asked. ”What do you want?”

”Ten minutes with you where we aren't bogged down by our jobs,” he said.

”Well, you aren't going to get that right now. I'm sorry, but if you make me choose between work and you, you're not going to stand much of a chance.”

”Oh,” he said, slowly walking back to the door. ”It's that easy for you, huh?”

”Yes. It is.”

”So maybe I should just leave you alone until this case is wrapped...or until you decide that you're overthinking it and it's already wrapped. Bailey is our guy. Stop overthinking things. Stop making yourself busy so you can ignore this emotional thing you're feeling for me.”

”That's not what I'm doing,” she spat.

”I'm not too sure about that,” Ramirez said.

”The world does not revolve around you,” Avery said. ”Now, if you don't mind...close the door on your way out.”

It was obvious that he was biting back a remark as he made his exit, but he managed to swallow it down. He did put some force behind closing the door as he left, though.

Avery looked back down to the files of the victims. All women...but what else? Was there something there that she was missing?

She thought of her conversation with Sloane and the insights she had given into the mind of an arsonist. Maybe they needed to look at it from a different angle-from a fresh perspective. Of course, it was nearing three in the morning right now so there was very little to be done.

Knowing that three hours of sleep would be useless, she stood up and stretched her back. She then settled back down behind the desk and studied the files for Keisha Lawrence and Sarah Osborne. She hoped the ident.i.ty of the third victim might help tie up some loose ends.

But until then, she only had the two deceased women staring at her from pieces of paper on her desk. They had been reduced to ashes on their last days on earth and it was up to Avery to discover the stories they had to tell.

She thought of Dr. Sloane Miller again and thought she might be just the person to help her figure out what these particularly tragic stories meant.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

Avery waited until six in the morning to call Sloane. She was relieved to hear that it sounded like Sloane had been awake for quite some time already. As it so happened, she was in a coffee shop when she answered her phone and happily agreed to meet with Avery the moment she got to the office.

That's how Avery came to be sitting in Sloane's office half an hour later with a coffee and a m.u.f.fin Sloane had brought her from the coffee shop. Sloane set her things down on her desk, powered up her work laptop, and finally took a seat.

”So what can I do for you?” Sloane asked.

”I'm still hung up on this case where the killer is burning his victims,” Avery said. She was sitting in the patient's chair, eating her small breakfast. For a moment, it almost felt as if she were just hanging out with a close friend. ”I'm trying to view it through the lens of someone who might be using fire as a strictly symbolic means without any interest or leaning towards arson.”

”Well, that's certainly interesting,” Sloane said. ”But I'm not sure you'll find someone fitting that description. I guess it is possible, but unlikely.”

”And why do you say that?”

Sloane thought about it for a moment as she sipped from her coffee. ”As we discussed before, even a little kid staring into a campfire-maybe holding a hot dog or marshmallow over it-understands the power that fire has. There's an inherent sort of respect for it. What an arsonist essentially does is evolve that fascination and respect into a device for power. They want to see the world burn and they have no problem using fire to do it because it's an outlet of power to them. Does that make sense?”

”So far, yes,” Avery said.

”So now let's consider someone who is burning bodies on purpose. Sure, there could be some symbolism attached to it and that's fine. But anyone using fire as a means to destroy or reduce something is working on those same inherent feelings. They understand the absolute power of fire and are using it with intent. It may even be a situation where the killer doesn't even realize he has these arson-like tendencies. But at the root of what he's doing, there is a degree of the same sort of mindset an arsonist would have, even if it's at its most basic form.”

So it could be someone like Phillip Bailey, Avery thought. Behind his obvious mental issues, there's an almost primitive understanding of how fire is a very basic yet common way to destroy things. h.e.l.l, even George Lutz understood that.

”So you think it would be a mistake to rule out an arsonist?” Avery asked.

”I wouldn't do it. In fact, I'd be looking for links between the two. Out of your suspects, is there anyone who has a background in arson that also may have some sort of connection to fire that could be viewed as symbolic?”

Would an arsonist work at a crematorium or trash-burning plant? Avery wondered. And if they did, would they even understand why they were doing it? Would they even be aware of their interest in fire?

Avery nodded, knowing exactly what she needed to look for. But on the heels of that was the question of Howard Randall. Had he purposefully given her wrong information? Had he just been s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with her, tiring of being her lackl.u.s.ter mentor?

Symbolism versus intent, Avery thought. I've been putting too much stake in that thought. What if the two are married? What if we're looking for someone who is not only very much aware of their obsession with fire, but with the mindset of a killer?

There's no need to look at those as individual traits if they could be linked to create a s.a.d.i.s.tic murderer.

But then again, maybe Howard was right all along. Maybe the killer was using fire as a weapon but not with an arsonist's frame of mind. Sometimes, fire was just fire.

”Does that help?” Sloane asked.

”I think it does. And as much as I hate to take the gift of coffee and run...”

”Run,” Sloane said with a smile of understanding. ”Go get the bad guy, Detective Black.”

With a nod of appreciation, Avery left Sloane's office with the cogs in her head already turning. She walked back to her own office on autopilot as she started putting the pieces together in her head.

By the time she was back behind her desk, she was pretty sure she knew exactly what she was looking for-and that two files in particular were on her desk that lined up almost exactly.

In their searches, Avery had received files based on people with a history of arson and then a completely different set of files based on people who had worked at crematoriums and had been let go for questionable reasons. While she had done some cross-referencing, she had not done anything in-depth because she had been leaning so hard toward arson not being a part of it.

She pulled up the two files that had shown the most promise when she had been cross-referencing the material. The first one was an older woman who had worked in a crematorium between 1989 and 2006. She had not been fired but had quit because of health concerns. She had come back for a few years to work as a receptionist before retiring for good in 2012. There was a mark of arson on her record, but it came from 1986 when she had been arrested for possession of marijuana and opiates. The arson in question was speculated to be perhaps an accidental fire started in her friend's backyard that had nearly burned the house down.

The second file was much more interesting, though. It told the story of a man named Roosevelt Toms. He had been employed by Everett Brothers Crematorium between 2006 and 2012. He had been fired for what the file listed as ”professional difference of opinion from that of the owners.” Avery looked back through the other pile and did not find his name to cross-reference. However, in his file within the crematorium employees, there was an additional sheet of information attached. It was a brief doc.u.ment that explained that Roosevelt had been arrested in 2001 under an intent-to-harm charge. Later that year, a girlfriend had called the police on him due to suicidal tendencies when he locked himself in the attic of their apartment.