It didn’t matter how many ways Hollie Brennan looked at the information on her laptop screen—the same pattern emerged every time. Only too aware of the problems the evidence posed, she had reviewed it over and over. Her faith in the computer program should have been absolute. She had been the person to devise it, and she had done it with just this sort of scenario in mind. It was used by fire investigators all over the country. Now she was doubting the information it was giving her. Instead of trusting it, she had gone back to basics. As she drank her early-morning coffee, the table in her small apartment was littered with maps, scribbled notes and scrawled diagrams.
She had even woken with a start at three in the morning, tearing herself away from her dreams of enchantment and mystery, before jumping out of bed to double-check one of the locations. But no. She had been right all along...which meant, no matter how crazy it sounded, she had to take this to her boss.
You have to listen to what the data is telling you, even if it appears bizarre. It was part of her introductory talk to trainee fire investigators. On this occasion, she was finding it increasingly difficult to take her own advice.
The streets were clear as she drove toward the office. This was one advantage of being up and about so early. She was half listening to the radio, her mind tuning in and out of the news stories, when the first bars of a rock ballad caught her full attention. It was the latest release from Beast, one of the biggest bands in the world. It was also, on this particular morning, the ultimate irony. After listening for a few moments, Hollie switched the radio off.
On arriving at the office, she was pleased to see her boss’s car was already in its designated parking space. There was a joke among the agents at the Newark Division of the FBI that, since no one ever saw her come or go, Assistant Special Agent-in-Charge Melissa McLain might actually spend the night there.
Hollie didn’t subscribe to the same view as her colleagues. ASAC McLain was a professional, but she wasn’t an automaton. Maybe it was because of Hollie’s unique role within the Bureau, but she had been granted occasional glances beneath the steely mask. They had even, now and then, gone out and gotten mildly tipsy together. No, McLain was human, and she was mightily pissed about their inability to catch one of the most prolific and deadly arsonists to come the Bureau’s way.
On reaching the third floor, Hollie knocked on McLain’s office door and waited for the abrupt instruction to enter.
“I come bearing caffeine.” She held up the carton from her boss’s favorite coffee shop. She knew from experience that stopping on the way into work to purchase the strongest, largest espresso worked well in two ways. It softened McLain’s mood slightly, and it meant she was forced to look up from her desk and focus on Hollie while they talked.
“It’s never good if you have to bribe me.” McLain removed the lid from the carton and closed her eyes as she inhaled.
“Not only is it not good—” Hollie sighed as she sipped her peppermint tea; the coffee had been tempting, but she needed a clear head for this conversation “—it’s so weird I don’t know where to start.”
“How about the beginning?” McLain’s direct gaze didn’t allow for hesitation.
Okay. Deep breath. “You know I like rock music?”
A corner of McLain’s mouth lifted. “I’m more of a classical fan myself, but I won’t hold your musical preferences against you. Is this going anywhere?”
“Bear with me. About a week ago, I was looking at dates, hoping to get a ticket for Beast’s next tour. They’re like gold dust.” The facts. Stick with the facts. “Anyway, there was a sidebar on the webpage, showing all the places they’d toured in the last few years. And it got my attention.”
“Because?”
Hollie reached for her file of paperwork. “Because, in the last four years, the places Beast has toured are the towns the Incinerator has targeted. Our random arsonist is not so random, after all.”
McLain’s brows snapped together. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’re saying our arsonist set his fires in the same towns that this rock band tours? Does he do it at the same time?”
“Typically, the fires take place the day after a Beast concert. Sometimes two days,” Hollie said. “But there’s more. Once I found the link, I did some checking into Beast’s international tours. Guess what?”
McLain took a gulp of her coffee, some of her customary poise deserting her. “Our guy has a passport?”
“It looks that way. In the four years we have been hunting the Incinerator, Beast has traveled to Europe, Australia and Asia. I checked with the police in each of those countries, and during each Beast tour, there were classic Incinerator fires in every location. Generally, the intervals between the international concerts and the fires were longer. Often they were weeks apart. But they always happened.”
“Damn.”
Hollie took her maps out of her file and placed them on the desk. “There’s a problem.”
“No, don’t give me problems.” McLain groaned. “Not when you’ve just given me the closest thing we’ve ever had to a breakthrough in this damn case.”
Hollie pointed to the two maps. “This is a map showing the location of every Incinerator fire. This one shows every place Beast has toured. The two match up every time...except for recently.” She pulled in a breath. Now for the hard part. “The last three Incinerator fires were set in towns that were not the location of a Beast tour.”
McLain muttered a curse under her breath. “Why have you brought me this if you’ve already disproved your own theory?”
“Because there is another link.” Hollie drew her electronic tablet from its case. “I reasoned that the Beast link was too strong to be overlooked.” She brought an image of the band up on the screen. “This guy is the lead singer, Khan. He got married recently and the birth of his baby daughter twelve months ago coincided with the band’s decision to take a break from touring. During that time, the other members of the group have done some solo projects.”
Sensing McLain’s impatience, she played a brief recording of the group. On the screen, dense smoke rolled like fog from the stage. Within it, colored strobe lights danced in time with the drumbeat. Giant LED screens at the rear of the stage projected alternating images of roaring fire, close-ups of snarling animals and Beast’s logo, a stylized symbol resembling three entwined number sixes. At the side of the stage, explosions went off at random intervals, shooting orange flames high into the night sky.
Beast was a fire-storming force of nature, but McLain appeared unimpressed. “Why do I need to see this?”
“I want you to look at this guy.” Hollie zoomed in on the front of the stage. Tall and muscular with his dark red hair drawn back into a ponytail, the man she indicated was all burning drama and flickering movement. Even on a screen, it was clear that the air around him sizzled into life as he timed the sweeping arc of his hand on the guitar to the explosions at the side of the stage. As they watched, he gestured in the manner of a conjurer, igniting a flickering blue blaze along the front of the stage.
“Looks like he enjoys playing with fire. Who is he?”
Hollie ended the recording. “Torque. Lead guitar.”
The reason I wanted that Beast ticket. It was hard to explain her feelings about a man she had never met. Luckily, she didn’t think McLain would require the additional information.
“You can match him to the other three Incinerator locations?”
Hollie nodded, withdrawing a third map from her file. “I tracked each individual member of Beast to find out what they have been doing during the past twelve months. Torque did a solo tour of small venues around the Midwest. We wondered why the Incinerator had