American Arson

Chapter Two

Around two hours after they left, Lewis and Investigator Daniels pulled up at the crime scene. It was a lot less frantic than it was when they left. There weren't as many people there, except for a few officers and forensic technicians.

They quickly got out of the car, putting their gloves and masks back on. They made their way towards what use to be the bedroom, kicking up soot as they trekked through the rubble. Now, here they were, staring at the room where the fire started. The room where two parents died.

Chills rushed up their spines.

If they found residue of anything flammable at the crime scene, then it would be ruled a triple homicide. The public reaction of a triple homicide would be that of pure insanity. Regardless, Lewis and Daniels started on their work.

They inspected the room, trying to find any sort of evidence that would be useful. Most of the room was burnt to a crisp. There was a section of the wall still up, along with a few half destroyed pieces of furniture.

He looked around with intense focus. Everything meant something. There is never anything at a crime scene without a purpose. Everything is evidence, even the small things. It was only a matter of time before they found something. In order to find the evidence, he needed to piece together the crime scene.

All they know is the fire started in the bedroom, and spread rapidly. Lewis stood there, looking at where the bodies were found. "Hey, Daniels?" He finally said.

"Yes?" He replied. Lewis paused for a moment, looking around carefully. "The bodies were found right beside the bed, face down, right?" He asked.

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"What if the fire started on or above the bed? They would've immediately caught fire, and rolled off the bed. That explains why they were found there." He said.

Daniels looked at him, with a big smile on his face. "That's a good point. Let's check for residue." So, Lewis and Daniels got to work. Luckily, part of the wall was still holding up where the bed would've been.

Daniels looked carefully, staring at the wall. "Why is this wall still up?" He said, pointing to the wall. "This is the only wall that didn't get it's ass kicked in the bedroom."

Lewis looked carefully. There was something else there, something shiny. He got closer to the wall, and looked closely. "Daniels, go get me one of those small bags from forensics, and some tweezers." Lewis said. So, Daniels left for about thirty seconds, and came back with some bags and tweezers. Behind him came one of the guys from forensics. "Got a little help, too." He said.

The man extended his hand, and Lewis reached out to shake it. "My name is Tyler Banning with the crime lab." He said.

"Detective William Lewis, with the police department. My friends just call me Lewis," Lewis replied.

Banning and Daniels watched on as Lewis pulled out a few small objects from the wall.

Glass.

"Banning, you got one of those fancy swab things?" He asked. Banning laughed, and swapped places with Lewis. He dabbed the swab on the wall. "Well, I've definitely got something. I can't smell it because of all the ash, soot, and smoke. I will get it back to the lab."

Daniels nodded. "Get back to me as soon as possible on that. We will need to know," he said.

Banning left, and so did Lewis and Daniels. They parted ways, and went back to their homes. Daniels lived out of the city, so he had a while to drive. Lewis had his home nice and close. The bad thing, though, was he was vulnerable. If this is an arsonist, my family isn't as safe as I once believed, he thought.

Lewis arrived at home, pulling his patrol car into his driveway. He was met at the door by his daughter, who hugged him as he walked in. "Hey, princess!" He said. "Daddy is a little dirty, so you might not want to hug him!" He said, playfully.

"Yuck!" She said, backing away. He was still covered in the soot and ash from the crime scene. His wife, Carrie Lewis, approached him. She whispered into his ear, "Were you at the Baker's house?"

Lewis nodded. His dog, Joey, had been waken up by all the commotion. He ran up to Lewis, barking uncontrollably. Lewis was exhausted, and it was getting late. He didn't have time for all of this. He just wanted to get a shower, go to bed, and get a good night's sleep.

So, without eating dinner, Lewis showered. Then, he went to bed. He lay there, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes. He couldn't sleep. He thought of the burnt corpses of the little girl and her parents. It was like he was lost in a trance. Then, startled, he jumped up from bed as he heard the door open. He looked over, and there was Carrie. She walked over to the bed, and then stood there. She looked at Lewis with a feeling of pity.

"You're not asleep yet?" She asked. Lewis nodded, saying "All I am thinking about is the Baker family," He replied. Carrie sighed, and then she stepped back. She turned on the lights.

"Perhaps I could put your mind on something else."

It didn't take long for Lewis to figure out what she meant. As she stepped away, she put her hands in front of her. She was reaching for her zipper. Then, she slowly unzipped her jeans. It was working, but he didn't want it to. It didn't matter.

It was still working.

Then, even slower, she unbuttoned her jeans. He wasn't being very patient. It was working real good. He wanted more, but she was taking her own sweet time. Then, she slowly began to pull her jeans down. Ever so slowly. He rested his eyes on her underwear. It was working better than he ever thought it would.

Her pants were slowly slipping down. He was getting impatient, and he couldn't take it anymore. "Get down here, already!" Lewis said. She smiled, and got onto the bed. They began to make out. They hugged, kissed, and all that good stuff for about one minute. Then, he got out of bed. They bumped into furniture, the wall, and the door. They kept kissing. Still, her jeans weren't all the way down.

He reached to take them off, but she stopped him. "Let them do their own work, I want to keep you guessing," she said, playfully. So, they kept kissing and hugging. Slowly, they kept falling down. They were down to her thighs, then to her knees, and then to her ankles. She stood there in her underwear, looking into his eyes. They laid back on the bed. Her jeans were still around her ankles, as she had wasted no time to take them off. He was only thinking about her, and nothing else.

She laid on top of him, and she reached to pull off her shirt. Then, something clouded his thoughts. There they were, laying on the bed.

Laying on the bed.

He looked at the wall above them, and all of the images started coming back. The shards of glass, the burnt house. The parents, who never got out of their room.

The daughter, who died not knowing what to do.

He began to breath heavily. He panicked. It had only been about five minutes, and they weren't even moving too much. They weren't having sex, they weren't doing any of that. She only had her jeans off, and that was it. It was just them kissing, and Lewis putting his hands on. Nothing else.

Yet, he was still struggling for breath as if he was running a marathon.

He pushed her away, just as she was pulling her shirt off. She pulled her shirt back down in disbelief, and looked at him sternly.

"I can't," He said. She looked at him, confused. "Those images, I can't forget them. I'm never getting those off my mind. They're going to stick with me," He said. His breathing slowed. "She was nine fucking years old! Now she's sitting in the fucking crime lab," He said. He was raising his voice, but he didn't realize it.

Carrie embraced him, as he began to cry. He cried a sea of tears, uncontrollably. They sat there, hugging for minutes. Nothing could erase what he saw, and he knew it. Carrie pulled her jeans back on. It was only 8:00.

She left him there so he could sleep. He laid down, and quickly drifted off to dream his sweet dreams.