Fireproof

CHAPTER 72

Sam had the camera set up on a tripod. It made interviewees less nervous when she stood beside a stationary camera than when she held it and pointed it at them. She and Jeffery had found the door unlocked and the house empty except for some trash in a corner, a stack of newspapers, and something that looked like a tray of rat poison on top.

Only one lamp on a timer lit the interior from the middle of the living room floor.

Sam had switched on a ceiling light only to have Jeffery flip it off immediately.

“We’re going to need more light. I didn’t bring backup lighting.”

Still, he insisted she keep it off.

She finished the rest of the coffee Jeffery had brought for her. She hadn’t needed the caffeine. Her adrenaline was enough to keep her going. But for some reason she felt a bit blurry, unfocused. It was funny she hadn’t even noticed Jeffery’s pacing. It was odd that he might be nervous to the point of a sweaty forehead and a tie let askew. This would be a big interview but the two of them had done bigger—several prime ministers, a congressman on the eve of his resignation, and a couple of Taliban leaders.

“I know that you figured it out, Sam.”

Her hands stopped. She thought her heart may have, too.

“Nadira told me about you taking the tapes from the warehouse fires.”

His voice remained calm, but he continued to pace.

Had Jeffery closed all the blinds or were they closed when they came in? She tried not to panic. So what if he did know it was Wes Harper? But maybe he and Jeffery had a deal. He wanted his own show so badly and he was so close to getting it. This one huge feature exclusive could seal his fate.

“What tipped you off?” He was still pacing.

“You knew about the fires so quickly.” He didn’t seem enraged; instead he was almost too calm. “I figured someone had to be tipping you off.”

He stopped in front of her and cocked his head as if he didn’t think he had heard her correctly. His hands had balled up and there was a brown stain that covered one.

“Tipping me off?”

“I saw Wes Harper at the warehouse fires. In the crowd after the second blast.”

He stared at her. His eyes hard, cold blue. And suddenly he laughed. “That’s what you saw on the tapes?”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone he was in touch with you. But how can you be certain he won’t? Especially if he’s ready to talk.”

He laughed again and shook his head. “Sam, Sam, if only you hadn’t turned your back on me Saturday night.”

“I know you don’t think you can trust me, but this interview—”

“There’s no interview, Sam.”

“But Harper—”

“There’s no Harper. The reason I knew about the fires, my dear Sam, is because I started them.”