Chapter 10 - THE FIRE THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO ERASE EVERYTHING
By the time I reached Mariner's Court, flames were climbing through the rear windows of the management office.
Fire trucks blocked the entrance.
Red emergency lights flashed across the brick walls.
Residents stood in small groups along the sidewalk, wrapped in blankets and holding frightened children.
A police officer stopped my car.
"Ma'am, you can't go through."
"My name is Laura Bennett. I know people who live here."
"Then please park down the street and stay outside the restricted area."
I obeyed.
As I hurried toward the residents, I heard someone calling my name.
"Laura!"
Rose stood beside an ambulance.
Ava was with her.
I ran toward them.
"Are you both okay?"
Rose nodded.
"We're fine."
Ava looked pale.
"I saw him, Mrs. Bennett."
I touched her shoulder.
"You're safe. That's what matters right now."
She shook her head.
"No. You don't understand. I saw Calvin."
I glanced toward the burning office.
"Did you tell the police?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Rose squeezed my arm.
"Some of the residents from Building C are being checked because smoke drifted toward their windows."
I looked around.
"Is everyone accounted for?"
"The firefighters are checking."
A young mother approached us carrying a crying toddler.
"Mrs. Walker, have you seen Mr. Jamison?"
Rose's expression changed.
"He was supposed to be brought outside."
"His wheelchair isn't here."
My heart lurched.
Walter Jamison lived on the ground floor of Building C.
He was eighty-two and used a motorized wheelchair.
I had met him during my first visit.
He had insisted on showing me the tomatoes he grew in containers beside his patio.
"Where's his apartment?" I asked.
Rose pointed.
"End of the ground-floor hallway."
The building wasn't burning, but smoke was beginning to drift across the courtyard.
I looked toward the nearest firefighter.
"Excuse me!"
A firefighter turned.
"Ma'am?"
"There's an elderly man in a wheelchair who may still be inside Building C. Ground floor, end of the east hallway."
His expression sharpened.
"Apartment number?"
"One-C-12," Rose answered.
The firefighter spoke into his radio.
Two crew members moved toward the building.
I wanted to follow.
Every instinct in my body told me to run inside and help.
But I stayed where I was.
The firefighters had protective equipment and training.
I didn't.
The most useful thing I could do was give them accurate information and keep other people out of danger.
Five agonizing minutes passed.
Then the firefighters emerged.
Walter Jamison sat in his wheelchair between them, coughing beneath a blanket.
Rose burst into tears.
"Thank God."
I hurried toward him as paramedics approached.
"Walter?"
He looked up.
"Well, hello, Mrs. Bennett."
His voice was weak but unmistakably cheerful.
I almost laughed from relief.
"How are you feeling?"
"Like somebody ruined a perfectly good night's sleep."
One of the paramedics smiled.
Then Walter's expression changed.
"Where's my cat?"
I looked at Rose.
She shook her head.
The firefighter beside Walter spoke.
"We'll let the crew know there's an animal inside, sir."
Walter nodded.
"Orange tabby. Name's President."
Despite everything, I smiled.
Only Walter would name a cat President.
The firefighters later found him hiding beneath Walter's bed.
By two in the morning, the flames had been contained.
The management office was heavily damaged.
Records stored in its rear room had burned.
Nobody had died.
Several residents had received treatment for smoke exposure, but emergency workers confirmed that everyone was accounted for.
I stood beside Rose as firefighters inspected the damaged office.
My hands were trembling.
"Mark knew there were people here," I whispered.
Rose looked at me.
"We don't know yet who started it."
She was right.
We had suspicions.
Messages.
A witness who had seen Calvin's truck.
But suspicion wasn't proof.
I forced myself to breathe.
Then Ava approached us with her laptop.
"Mrs. Bennett, I need to show you something."
"Sweetheart, it's two in the morning."
"I know."
She looked at Rose.
"Grandma, please."
Rose sighed.
"What is it?"
Ava opened a video file.
"I put a security camera in our window last month because somebody kept damaging the community garden."
The screen showed the courtyard outside Building C.
The image was grainy.
But the management office was clearly visible across the grass.
Ava moved the playback forward.
At 11:31 p.m., a dark utility truck entered the service driveway.
A man got out.
Calvin Price.
I recognized his build and the distinctive way he walked.
He carried a rectangular red container and a black case.
He disappeared behind the office.
Several minutes later, he emerged carrying what appeared to be a thick binder.
Then he returned to the truck.
At 11:38, the first smoke became visible.
My stomach turned.
"Ava, have you shown this to the police?"
"Not yet."
"Then we need to give them the original file right away."
She nodded.
Detective Brooks arrived shortly afterward.
She reviewed the footage without comment.
Then she asked Ava how the camera had been installed and where the original recording was stored.
Ava explained.
Brooks carefully documented the information.
"This may be important," she said. "We'll need to authenticate it and compare it with other evidence."
I looked at the damaged office.
"Do you think Calvin started the fire?"
"I can't draw that conclusion from this footage alone."
"Vanessa warned me that Mark wanted the records removed."
"I've received those messages."
Brooks turned toward me.
"Mrs. Bennett, please don't confront Mr. Price yourself."
"I won't."
"Good."
She looked toward the firefighters.
"The fire marshal will determine the likely cause. If evidence suggests a crime, we'll follow it."
By dawn, the fire crews were packing their equipment.
Most residents had returned to their apartments after safety checks, while those in affected units were taken to temporary accommodations.
Rose sat beside me on a bench.
The morning air smelled of wet ashes.
"Why would anyone do this?" she whispered.
I looked toward the blackened windows.
"I think the files in that office mattered."
Rose shook her head.
"People mattered more."
I turned toward her.
She was right.
And the truth of it hit me harder than anything else that morning.
For days, I had been consumed by financial documents, signatures, and hidden transfers.
I had started thinking like Mark.
Everything became evidence.
Assets.
Liabilities.
Risk.
But the people at Mariner's Court weren't numbers in a case.
They were human beings who wanted to live safely in their own homes.
"I won't forget that," I whispered.
Rose took my hand.
"I know."
At seven thirty, Rebecca called.
"Laura, I've heard about the fire."
"Everyone survived."
"Thank God."
"The records office is destroyed."
"I know."
I stared at the blackened building.
"Does this ruin our case?"
"No."
Her voice was firm.
"We have Nora's copies, Daniel's original engineering report, the bank records, and the trust documents. We may have lost some originals, but not the entire evidentiary record."
I closed my eyes.
Relief washed over me.
Then Rebecca continued.
"And we have another witness."
"Who?"
"Vanessa Cole."
I froze.
"What?"
"She contacted Detective Brooks. She says she was near Mariner's Court last night."
I looked at Ava.
Then at the video.
I remembered the utility truck.
The shadows near the driver's side.
"Was she with Calvin?"
Rebecca hesitated.
"That's what investigators are trying to establish."
I opened the video again.
Ava zoomed in on a figure standing near the truck shortly before the fire.
A young woman.
Long blonde hair.
Cream-colored jacket.
My breath caught.
I knew that jacket.
I had seen it hanging over the banister in my house.
The night Vanessa arrived with Mark.
I stared at the screen.
There, beside the man suspected of destroying the company records, stood my husband's mistress.
May you like
And suddenly I had to wonder whether Vanessa's warnings had been an attempt to save the residents...
Or part of a much larger deception.
