Into the Fire

The Scene of the Crime

Across town at the police precinct, Detective Grant was not having a good day, or a good week, for that matter. It had been nearly several months since the fire at the children's home, and he was nowhere near closer to solving the potential arson and near-murder of Leah Brent. Grant had been able to talk to the girl but had not gained much information from their conversation. As he turned around and faced his team working behind him, Grant started with one question.

"Come on, guys," Grant said gruffly. "What are we missing? There must be something. There is always something."

Unfortunately, Grant was met with dead silence. Suddenly, to his surprise, one of his quietest detectives piped up.

"Detective Grant, I think I found something."

"Yes, finally!" Grant said, slapping his hand on his desk and approaching the young man peering over at him. "What's your name, son?"

"Riley, sir," the man said. "Detective Riley." Riley pointed at his computer screen and gestured to the information in front of them. "I know everyone has been focusing on that guy Jude that was just released from prison. So, I decided to start looking at other people and found something interesting. Apparently, Kerr received a massive payment from insurance that he had just taken out and immediately moved that money to some gambling site."

"Excellent job, Detective," Grant said, patting Riley on the shoulder. "Now grab your coat and follow. We need to get back to the scene and take another look around."

"Hey, what about me?" Aiden yelled as Grant and Riley gathered their things.

"You can track down Kerr for me and get him here for questioning. I don't care what you have to do to get his ass in here," Grant yelled back into the room as he rushed out, Riley following closely. Grant reached into his pocket and tossed his cell phone over to Riley. "Hey, Riley, do me a favor and call a certain O. L. Harding for me and tell him to meet us at the children's home. His number is on my phone."

"Sure thing."

Riley quickly dialed Oliver's number, and after a few rings, Oliver answered.

"Detective Grant," Oliver answered in surprise. "To what do I owe the displeasure of you calling me this afternoon?"

"Harding, stop playing games," Grant replied, rolling his eyes. "I need you at the children's home in ten minutes. We got a lead, and I need your help."

"And why do you need my help, exactly, Grant?"

"Damn it, Oliver, you know exactly why. You know I can't stand Stevenson and his stupidity. The moment he gets a whiff of what's going on, he'll want in. You know damn well that you were the best arson investigator before you decided that putting out fires was more enjoyable."

"I'm with my daughter, Grant."

"Yeah, I know, congratulations and all that, but she's exactly why I need you here."

The other end of the phone was silent for a long moment before Oliver finally answered, "I'm on my way."

Grant and Riley didn't have to wait long at the children's home before Oliver arrived. The two men stood outside, waiting for Oliver to walk over, talking quietly.

"Riley," Grant said when Oliver finally reached them, "wait in the car in case we need backup. We'll call you. Harding, let's head in."

Oliver reluctantly followed Grant into the children's home. He hadn't been to the building in what felt like years. His life had changed considerably over the past few months, and while good had come out of the fire, he wasn't fond of being there. The front entrance remained primarily intact, but the walls were still covered in the aftermath of the smoke; the white walls were stained a dark grey with black spots. Grant stopped in the center of the room, looked around, and then turned back to Oliver.