Arsonist

CHAPTER 36

There was knocking at the door. It seemed distant, almost like it was on another planet. Stanton roused himself awake and listened. He heard it again. He rolled over and put the pillow over his head.

The knocking turned to doorbell ringing. Reluctantly and with a loud sigh, he stood up, nearly stumbling over his nightstand, and walked out to the living room. He glanced at the clock on the oven as he went past the kitchen: 11:17 p.m. Stanton opened the door and saw Emma Lyon standing there in UCLA sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure. How’d you get in by the way?”

“I just waited until someone walked out of the front doors. Your building isn’t very secure.”

Stanton sat on the leather chair as Emma took a spot on the couch. She looked out the balcony’s bay doors to the moon hanging in the sky outside.

“I love the view.”

“Thanks.”

“Would it be rude to ask how a cop affords a place like this?”

“Yes.”

She smiled and he smiled back.

“I saw the news, Jon. I saw the family. The faces of the young girls that died in that fire.”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s not easy to see.”

“I want you to know why I don’t help the police. I’m not some anti-government nut. I have reasons.”

“I’m sure you do. I’m not judging you, Emma. You have to do what you think is right.”

“My father was wrongly executed. I have a hunch you already looked that up.”

“Not me, but someone I know, yeah.”

“It’s something that doesn’t leave me. I can completely understand how murder victims feel but it’s even worse than that. I wish he had been murdered because then I could just blame one person. But how do you blame bureaucracy? Do I blame the prosecutor that convicted him or the public defender that didn’t lift a finger to help him? What about the judge that kept out good evidence or the morons in the jury?”

“I don’t know who you blame, Emma. I don’t have the answers.” He leaned forward on his elbows. “But I know you can help keep that from happening to other people. Benny doesn’t know what he’s doing. Lord knows how many innocent people are sitting behind bars right now because of him. If I can close these cases and prove what an incompetent he is, those cases can be reopened and looked at for errors. You could help with that. You could save people’s lives.”

She nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m going to help you with these cases, and then I’m leaving San Diego. For good.”

“Why?”

“Because you and others like you will keep coming to me with cases like this afterward. I’ll never be left alone and I won’t have the heart or the excuse to say no. I’m going to accept a position at the University of Montana. No one will know my specialty or background. I’ll just be another professor in a small town.”

“Do you think you’ll be happy doing that?”

“I don’t know. But I know I can’t do this anymore.” She stood up and walked to him. She gave him a brief kiss on the lips and then said, “Send me everything tomorrow,” before she walked out the door, and was gone.

Stanton sat quietly a while. He walked to the balcony and opened the doors and stepped outside. The air was warm and tasted salty against his tongue. He sat down in a patio chair and watched the moon reflect off the waves of the sea.

Marine animals were out there right now that were in a desperate struggle for life; the stronger ones eating the weaker ones. People assumed animals were free and without stress, but Stanton knew that wasn’t true. On top of finding food and procreating, they also had to constantly look over their shoulder for the larger predator that was going to take them out. Few animals lived as long as humans for that reason; they simply had constant stress every moment of their lives. Stress, Stanton knew, was the great killer. He had no doubt that that was what would end his life and probably the lives of every cop in Robbery-Homicide.

He put his feet up on the balcony railing and relaxed on the chair. He was asleep again before he could think to get a pillow.