He drove his second-hand Honda Civic out to the site of the previous night’s fire. As he neared, he could see several vehicles parked down near the remains of the structure. Detectives and ID techs, no doubt, and maybe a fire marshal or two.
There was a cop stationed at the gate, another rookie named Eli Dunbar. Jake turned onto the dirt road, then stopped and rolled down his window.
“Hey, Snowbird,” Dunbar said, using the nickname Jake had obtained at the academy. “What are you doing here?”
“Morning, Eli,” Jake said, forcing on a smile. He wasn’t a big fan of Dunbar’s. “Haywood and I were first on scene last night. I was told to swing by after I got up.” Not exactly true, but close. He was told to check in with the detectives heading up the investigation before he started his shift. It was never said where, but the implication had been at Jake’s substation — where the detectives would be working out of for the next couple of days — not the crime scene.
“That was you, huh? You the ones who found the body, too?”
Jake shook his head. “No, we didn’t even know it was there. They found it after they put the fire out.”
Dunbar looked back at the barn for a second. “If you ask me, I’ll bet you it has something to do with drugs. A deal gone bad, a turf war or something like that. You just wait and see. He’ll be Mexican for sure.”
Jake wasn’t about to start trading theories with him, so he just said, “You might be right.”
“You better believe I am.”
Jake gave him a nod. “I’d better run,” he said, slipping the car back into gear.
Dunbar pointed down the road. “Park near the other cars. And careful where you step. It’s still a crime scene.”
“Thanks,” Jake told him, then started driving away. What he really wanted to say was, “No kidding, asshole. I know it’s a crime scene,” but you couldn’t win with a guy like Dunbar. No matter what you said, or how right you were, they’d think
Jake parked next to a van he knew belonged to one of the identity techs, then got out. There were nearly a dozen people at the barn, split almost evenly between those on the perimeter and those inside the wreckage.
He knew the body had been taken to the morgue the night before, so the attention now would be on processing the scene for any evidence left behind. A couple of the people on the outside seemed to be examining a tire print, while another was shooting photographs of it.
Standing off to the side were two men in suits. Though Jake had never seen them before, they had the unmistakable look of detectives. They probably weren’t the primaries on the case — that would have fallen to the guys who’d shown up right after the body was discovered. No, these two would be doing babysitting duty, on hand in case anything came up, but likely to move on to something else the minute they drove away.
One of them was glancing in Jake’s direction, so Jake headed over, knowing it was better to take the initiative and introduce himself than hope they’d just ignore him.
“Can I help you?” the detective asked as Jake neared.
“I’m Officer Oliver,” Jake said. “I was first on scene last night.”
The detective looked at him, clearly waiting for more.
Jake had known he was going to have to explain why he was there, so he had come up with a story on the drive over. Now that he was about to voice it, it seemed ridiculous, but it was too late to come up with anything else.
“We, uh, did a wide perimeter search when we first got here,” he said. “You know, in case there was anyone who escaped the fire but might need help.”
The second detective raised an eyebrow. “And?”
Jake smiled sheepishly. “This is actually kind of embarrassing.”
Neither of the detectives said anything.
“I think I, uh, might have lost a pen my girlfriend gave me.”
“A pen,” the first detective said, his face blank.
“It’s a nice pen. One of those expensive kinds, know what I mean? I got a call when I was walking around.” Jake waved at the desert beyond the barn. “When I pulled out my phone, I think my pen might have come out, too. I didn’t notice it was gone until I got home.”
“So you think your
“Yeah. I told you it was embarrassing.”
“You were right.”
“Would you mind if I looked for it?” Jake asked.
“
“We didn’t know it was a crime scene at the time.”
Both detectives stared at him. “The building was on fire. There was a pretty good chance something was wrong, don’t you think?”
“Yes, sir. It was a mistake. I’m sorry. I should just forget about it.” Jake started to turn away.
“Hold on,” the first detective said, stopping him. The man then raised his voice. “Pat!”
A man standing inside the wreckage looked up. “What?”
“This guy lost something out in the desert around the barn. Okay if he looks for it?”
The man, Pat, glanced at Jake. “Who is he?”
“One of ours. Was here last night.”
Pat shrugged. “We finished up out there, so shouldn’t be a problem. Just stay at least twenty feet from the building.”
The first detective looked at Jake. “You’re in luck. Go have your look, but don’t be long.”
“Thank you,” Jake said, sighing inwardly with relief.
He started with the tank to the left of the building, and immediately saw that the line of disturbed earth leading to the barn had been trampled over by the fire crews. He looked for the trough the rope or cable had created, but it was gone, too. This was evidence he alone now had, evidence he should probably turn over to the detectives. Not the two idiots out front, though. The ones in charge.
He circled around the tank and could immediately tell the firefighters hadn’t come back this way. The disturbed earth was untouched. With the aid of the morning sunlight, it seemed pretty clear whoever kicked it up had done so in a hurry. Jake scanned the surrounding area, looking for anything he might have missed in the darkness, but nothing stood out.
He moved on, walking in a wide arc that would take him behind the barn. Unfortunately, now that the structure wasn’t much more than a pile of charred wood, he was visible to the detectives pretty much wherever he went. To keep up the illusion of the lost pen, he focused his gaze more on the ground than on the crime scene.
The few glimpses he did take of the barn told him nothing new.
He paralleled the back of the building, then turned along the other side, and immediately spotted something he hadn’t noticed previously. A tree. It was another thirty feet farther into the desert on the left. Its blackened trunk and leafless branches looked brittle. It was actually more a reminder of a tree than a tree itself, doing time until one of the strong winds that blew through the valley on occasion finally brought it to the ground.
This was the side of the barn Haywood had checked out, so it was understandable why Jake hadn’t seen it before. He walked toward it, wanting to do a thorough job, so that when he drove off he’d know there had been nothing more to find. Hopefully, that would appease his mind, and his obsession with the fire would wane.
From over at the barn, he could hear a few of the other detectives talking about the upcoming basketball season. The Phoenix Suns had never won the NBA title, but they made the playoffs almost every year. In Jake’s opinion, that made it more torturous for fans than if the team never made the playoffs at all. Jake liked basketball, but he couldn’t bring himself to give in to the futility of being a Suns fan just yet. A few more years on the force and he was sure to be cheering and groaning with the rest of them.
As he neared the tree he noticed several sets of footprints, many on top of each other. He picked out a set that probably belonged to Haywood. The shape was very much like the ones made by Jake’s uniform shoes.
Unfortunately, Jake’s partner hadn’t been concerned about footprints or marks in the sand. His own steps had trampled over much of what had been there before, but they hadn’t completely obscured everything.
Jake crouched down. If he wasn’t mistaken, someone had been sitting next to the tree, perhaps even leaning
