Play with Fire

chapter Fourteen

“COULD BE A coincidence, I suppose,” Colleen O’Donnell said.

“Because last time it was Catholics, and this time it’s Jews.” Dale Fenton nudged a piece of charred wood with his foot. “That what you mean?”

“The differences in faiths, yes,” O’Donnell said. “Then there’s the geographical factor. Duluth, and then Albuquerque? If they wanted to burn down a synagogue, there’s plenty of them closer to Minnesota than this one. Seems like a lot of trouble to go through.”

“Assuming that’s all they had in mind, I’d have to say you’re right,” Fenton said.

“Which means, either it’s not the same guys...”

“Or it is, and there’s a common factor that we don’t know about yet.”

“I hate it when that happens,” O’Donnell said.

“Yeah, me too, and besides – uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh what?”

“Look yonder,” Fenton said, pointing with his chin.

O’Donnell turned and saw that an ambulance had pulled up as close to the wreckage as it could get. Its red light was not flashing – apparently nobody was in any hurry.

The FBI agents watched as two EMTs brought out a stretcher from the back of the ambulance. A man in a fire marshal’s uniform went over and spoke to them briefly, then they followed him, toting the stretcher, into the ruins of Temple Beth Israel.

A few minutes later they emerged. There was something on the stretcher now, covered by a sheet and the EMTs moved gingerly through the ruins in the direction of the ambulance, where Fenton and O’Donnell were waiting for them. The men and their burden were about fifty feet away when Fenton sighed and said to O’Donnell, “Odds or evens?”

“Evens.” O’Donnell counted out loud “One, two...” On “three” each of them stuck a hand out. O’Donnell was displaying two fingers. Fenton showed two, also. “Damn,” he said softly. “Well, guess I get the nightmares this time.”

When the EMTs reached the ambulance, Fenton was waiting for them. He displayed his ID, nodded toward the stretcher and said, “Mind if I take a look?”

The EMTs looked at each other, and then one of them shrugged and pulled back the sheet to reveal what lay underneath it. Fenton had his look, swallowed hard and said “Thank you.” He returned to his partner as the stretcher was being loaded into the back of the ambulance.

“Burned beyond recognition,” Fenton said. “If anything was done to the poor guy before the fire got him, the M.E. is going to have a hell of a time proving it.”

O’Donnell nodded slowly. “That leaves the incendiary devices, assuming there were any.”

“I’d say the chances are pretty good,” Fenton said. “I talked to one of the firemen who was here last night, and he said the fire burned hot and fast. Too fast for accidental ignition, in his opinion.”

“So if there were incendiaries, and they’ve got the same signature of the ones used in Duluth, we could be onto something.”

“Yeah,” Fenton said. “But what?”

“That’s a question for–” The phone in O’Donnell’s pocket made a beeping sound. She pulled it out and looked at the screen. “Text from Sue. She wants us to call in.” O’Donnell used her thumb to scroll down the rest of the text message, her lips flattening into a thin, straight line as she read. Then she shut the phone down and looked at her partner. “Looks like we’ve got a problem.”