Fireproof

CHAPTER 64

Maggie reeked of smoke but at least she didn’t look as bad as Tully.

“What happened to you?”

He came into the conference room and dropped into the leather chair across the table from her.

“I finally got that backpack bastard.”

“Is he our guy?”

Tully shrugged, looking defeated, tired.

“I think he’s some homeless drunk who’s paranoid and maybe a bit schizo. What do you have going on?”

He pointed to the file folders and maps she had scattered on the large tabletop. Instead of going home, she’d come back to Quantico to pull some files and access some databases. She was screening her calls, still avoiding her mother’s voice messages, when Assistant Director Kunze called, insisting she and Tully meet him in the conference room in an hour. Never mind that it was late on a Saturday night.

“There was a construction site across the street from the shops that burned down tonight.”

“Okay.”

“And there was a construction site just down the street from the warehouse fires.”

“Same contractor?”

“That was my first thought. Unfortunately no. Two separate companies. But here’s something interesting—both projects are federally funded. The one across from the shops is going to be a food pantry. The one in the warehouse district is something called the D.C. Outreach House. It’s going to be a community and sleep shelter for the homeless. Both are HUD projects.”

“Can we access employee lists to see if there’s anybody working on both sites?”

“I’m trying. There’s more red tape than even my clearance can cut through.”

Tully laughed.

“There’s more,” Maggie said. “I talked to the owner of the construction company working in the warehouse district.”

“I bet he was pleased to get a phone call on a Saturday night.”

“Actually he didn’t seem surprised.” Irritated was more what Maggie had detected, but Mr. Lyle Post had treated her phone call as if it were only one in a long run of federal interruptions into his business.

“Can he get you a list of his employees?”

“Said it would be tough.”

“Because of privacy issues?”

“No, that wasn’t the problem. He doesn’t keep track of the names of all his crew members.”

Tully blinked and sat up like he hadn’t heard her correctly and needed to get a closer listen.

“Said he’s had to hire a lot of private contractors because the project got fast-tracked. Someone at HUD told him they needed the job done sooner than they needed to know every single person who was working on it.”

“He told you this knowing you’re an FBI agent?”

“I didn’t exactly tell him who I was.” It wouldn’t be the first time she or Tully had withheld information in order to get information.

“So someone could be working on both projects.”

“Or someone could think the fires would get more attention because they were close to federally funded projects.”

“Could be why Kunze has his panties in a twist.”

“It’s taken you both this long to figure that out.”

Assistant Director Raymond Kunze stood in the doorway of the conference room. Tully sat up in his chair, a flush of red running up his neck. Maggie dropped her hands into her lap and restrained a smile. Kunze looked like a linebacker but dressed like a nightclub bouncer. The blazer he wore was probably a rust color, but under the fluorescent lights it looked orange.

“I’ve got one senator and the director of HUD kicking my ass until you two catch this frickin’ firefly.” He started into the room but stopped halfway. “Tully, you look like crap. And O’Dell”—he sniffed the air—“you stink.”

If Maggie didn’t know better she’d guess Kunze was finally joking with them like they were part of a team. It certainly was the first time he’d admitted to the politics of his actions.

He threw what looked like a faxed document on the table. The pages were the old flimsy paper of antiquated fax machines that curled.

“I just received the ATF’s report on the church fires.” He sat at the head of the table, tapping the top of the papers he’d thrown down. “Gasoline was poured at the threshold of the door to the basement. Not only did this bastard know there was a meeting being held down there, he was hell-bent on killing someone. Tonight he finally did. He murdered an entire family by setting fire to—of all things—the fire escape and the back door, their only other way out.”

Maggie hadn’t known about the back door. She watched Kunze. She was used to seeing him angry, but there was something different tonight, emotion she didn’t recognize. He appeared shaken by these latest deaths.

“There was an eighteen-month-old child,” Kunze said quietly. “My ass is so going to get kicked when this hits the news.” He looked up at the two of them. “And so are both of yours if you don’t catch this bastard.”