Noah glared. “A little smoke can’t keep me off the job.”
Durvan tapped Mike on the shoulder so he could get past him. He looked almost angry as he came to stand before Noah’s desk. “You should know the captain just gave me the job of getting a warrant to pull your cell phone records.”
Noah finally looked up. “Why?”
Durvan’s gaze bored into him. “Something to do with your phone being used to remotely start an electronic device last night.”
“Do tell.” Noah didn’t let the news rattle him.
“Yeah, I do. You used a WeMo.” The company made customizable products that allowed a person to control plugged-in electronics from anywhere using one’s computer or phone.
“Nice try. I don’t have an account.”
Duran shook his head. “You’re going to have to do better than that.” He held up a cell phone in an evidence bag. It was burned and warped. “Found it in the fire. Want to bet a WeMo app is right here among your phone apps?”
They had his phone. Then they probably had his truck as well. But he needed to stay focused.
Noah leaned back in his chair. “Then it’ll be a new account, as of yesterday.”
Durvan frowned. “Doesn’t change anything. You could’ve decided yesterday to use the device to end your life.”
Noah shrugged. “Sounds sloppy. Not like me. I’d never stake my life—or loss of it—on something I hadn’t used before. It might not have worked.”
“Of course, it would work. Arson fires are often started remotely by professionals. Didn’t you have some cases last year using a WeMo?”
Noah ignored the jibe. “You ever set up a new Wi-Fi device? Did it work for you the first time?”
Mike snickered.
Durvan grunted. “Fine. But you should know I’m close to probable cause on arson.” He glanced at Mike. “Need you to get a warrant for Glover’s cell phone records. And one for WeMo to see if our boy’s among their clients, and when he last used his account.”
Mike glanced quickly at Noah. “How soon you need it? I’m working two cases at the moment. Another coming up for trial next week.”
“Put it in your mix. As senior investigator, I’m delegating the responsibility for the warrant to you. Homeland Security is coming in first thing next week to test our explosives unit’s readiness. Got to drill over the weekend. I’ll message you the wording to take to the judge.” He turned and wagged the bag with the cell phone at Noah. “Tick tock, Glover.”
Ignoring both men’s speculative looks, Noah turned his attention back to his computer screen.
When Glover was gone, Mike came forward, his voice on low volume. “Man, tell me you didn’t—” He paused and suddenly backed up, both hands held up in surrender. “No, I don’t need to hear nothing. Better that way.”
“Your call.”
Noah first checked his bank account and his credit cards, in case he’d been induced to give the guy money. But no withdrawals had been made last night. This wasn’t about robbery. Or theft. It wasn’t even just about killing him. It was about ruining his reputation in death. So then, who would want him that kind of dead? Someone with a grudge. A felon.
Noah studied his screen for a moment before looking up to find Mike studying him from his desk across the room. “You remember that fire bug we put away three years ago? Somebody Wheatley? I see he just got out.”
Mike shrugged. “Don’t remember him.”
“You know any of our convicted arsonists who’ve gotten out of prison recently?”
“No. Only felon I know is my former neighbor Chet Haggard. I kinda feel for the old boy. Lost his wife. His house. All on account of breaking up a TV.”
“He did the crime.”
“Yeah. But there’re times when I have wonder about some of our laws. Here’s a good old boy, fed up with his wife watching HBO. So, he takes a baseball bat to the TV. The wife calls the police and has him arrested for destroying her property. Turns out he didn’t have the right to destroy property in his own house because this is a community property state. She owned half the TV. The poor bastard should have taken his bat to something beside their brand new 60-inch 3D smart TV. Cost more than three thousand dollars, which made destroying it a felony. Doesn’t seem quite fair.”
“Poor impulse control.” Noah twisted away from his screen. The arson investigation squad often discussed motivation and legalities of a crime. It kept them sharp and up to date. “Could be the wife was worried that next time he got worked up, he’d take that bat to her, or one of their kids. Probably why she left him.”
Mike stroked his chin. “Hadn’t thought about it that way.” He glanced speculatively over Noah’s shoulder. “You’re pulling up everyone you ever incarcerated?”
Noah pegged him with a look. “Someone wants me dead. Seems like a good place to start looking for suspects.”
“What about old girlfriends? Some bitches be crazy.”