Page 83 of On Fire

“But why?”

“Betrayal of trust. Furious because he thinks I look one way and act in another. The picture at Carlson’s showed a blank spot—completely bare when everything else was covered in wires, plans. There is another bomb. Makes sense it’s here.”

It takes me a second to digest all this. I look around. This station was falling apart when I became chief a decade ago. I renovated it by pulling down block grants. We have a state-of-the-art kitchen, with two dishwashers, three ovens and three fridges. And as Luke likes to point out, a zester.

The kitchen.

We search carefully, especially around the ovens, and find nothing.

“Where would he hide it?” I ask, slowly straightening from checking underneath. Nic’s the profiler. He’s going to have the best shot at this. He reaches some kind of conclusion.

“What do you have that’s old?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you have around here that’s vintage.”

“Baubles.” She’s our truck for the 1950s and used in parades. “She’s in the last bay.”

Sirens scream in the background. I suddenly have pity on the bomb squad. They’re probably still at the site off 131.

The last bay is too far away. It has to be in or near the living quarters.

“Anything else? This guy is clinging to a past he thinks existed.”

“That’s a long shot.”

“He’s a fire chief.”

Fire chief. This was a guy, that legend has it, built his own gym equipment for his guys. I raise my head and point to the wall behind him. There, in all her glory is Bessy, our old bell from the ‘50s.

On top sits a single white rubber die. She still rings and she’s wired to go.

To go.

Nic and I share the same idea. Something’s got to trip that wire. An alarm. When a call comes in, it will set the bomb off.

After first checking underneath, he grabs a chair by the hose station and stands on it. The guys are all watching from across the road. Jackson’s making sure no one re-enters.

Standing on it, he reaches up and with a pen light makes a discovery. His body tightens. Very gently he removes the die.

“How did he get in here?” Nic looks at me.

“I don’t know. We’ve had a series of fires, and everyone’s been flying around. I’ve been gone nearly three shifts. There was trouble with the posted schedule because someone thought they saw Matt at the station last night. Maybe that was him.”

“It had to have been this morning.”

“Why was he coming back?”

“Because he assumed it would be going off soon.”

“This only rings for one alarm fires. He wouldn’t know that though,” I say. One alarm fires are the least dangerous, most common, and require less crew. “Is there a timer?”

“No. Well, I can’t tell. But if this alarm does go off, so does the building. There’s a short trip wire on the underside of the bell and the package.”

“Nic, get down from there.”

“Hand me wire cutters. But be careful. There may be more.”