Free An Inner Fire by Jacki Delecki Page B

firefighter had never passed the man’s disapproving lips. Maclean still believed only a fire man , a Caucasian male, should work for the department.
    “I didn’t bring my dog to the site. She jumped out of the car.” The excuse sounded lame.
    “Your dog could’ve disturbed or destroyed evidence.”
    “I know. The wall fell right after she got on the site.”
    He was glad he had told no one how close the collapsing wall had come to crushing him. Things happened on the fireground.
    “So did your dog find an accelerant?”
    “My dog isn’t trained to smell for accelerants. She’s a French poodle.” He could see Maclean eyeing him. He knew exactly where the assistant chief’s thoughts were going. It was hard enough to live up to his Scottish background. “She’s my ex-girlfriend’s dog.”
    Maclean stepped over the yellow tape, avoiding getting ashes on his shoes. Davis found it hard to believe his boss had ever gotten “wicked dirty” from the tar, the creosotes, and other by-products of the fire that clung to your clothes and skin at a fire scene.
    “Are you planning on using Henny?”
    Once he finished his digging, Davis planned to bring in Henny, whose nose was trained to detect possible accelerants. But to annoy Maclean, he refused to give him a straight answer. “I haven’t finished my digging. I’m going to need a crane.”
    “Do you know how fricking expensive cranes are? You’ve got to fill out the paper work. And good luck with that.”
    Maclean could see by the giant fallen lumber, a crane was necessary to excavate the scene. Davis took a slow, deep breath and swallowed the words he was dying to unleash.
    “What about the pictures? Have you taken them yet?”
    Maclean had a bigger bug up his ass than usual. Why was he here on a Saturday? He never got personally involved.
    “I took some photos early this morning.”
    “Have you uploaded them yet?”
    He thought about the pleasure he would get from telling Maclean to go to hell. “I’m going back to the station after I finish the digging. Why so much interest in this fire? Don’t tell me the mayor and the press are going to show up tomorrow?”
    “The press hasn’t started yet, but the port wants answers now. There’s a lot of interest in the wharf since they started filming that TV show down here. The port doesn’t want any bad press and neither does the chief.”
    Maclean hadn’t just come to harass him about Mitzi. He came to tighten the screws on Davis, to demand that he finish the investigation, tidy and quick.
    “Are you up for this one? Or should I assign a real fire man ?” Delivering his sunny message, Maclean walked away. He spoke over his shoulder in his familiar patronizing voice. “And none of the usual attitude, no independent bullshit. Keep me in the loop.”
    Davis could feel the blood pulsating at his temples, right above his clenched jaw. Independent…bullshit! It wasn’t an attitude. Fire investigators were separate. They solved crimes.
    Something about this fire made him uneasy. Maclean hassling him added fuel to the fire, literally. He would’ve laughed at the pun if he wasn’t so frustrated.
    Before he left, he needed to finish his inspection of the area surrounding the fire scene. Ordinarily, he would’ve scouted out the perimeter well before this, but the crashing wall and Mitzi’s injury had interfered. Davis headed to his Suburban to get Mitzi, glad that Maclean hadn’t seen the dog in the department’s rig.
    “Come on Mitzi, let’s go for a walk.” The dog stretched her length on the back seat and then jumped out of the door.
    He and Mitzi walked the entire wharf. They inspected other sheds that extended toward the Ballard Bridge, then turned and walked along the waterfront. The air hung with a salt water tang. They walked past rows of moored fishing boats.
    A few clouds scuttled across the sky. The night walk was helping to clear his head of his crazy, disorderly thoughts. To solve a fire, you