Free Fireproof by Alex Kava Page A

else.
    “Stan’s office bagged and carted her,” Racine added. “He promised to do the autopsy himself first thing tomorrow morning.”
    “Any chance she was homeless?” Maggie asked.
    Racine shook her head. “Feet were exposed. Looked like a professional pedicure.”
    “We did find the remains of a cardboard box,” Tully said. “Ganza’s back there seeing what trace he can find.”
    Keith Ganza was the director of the FBI crime lab. Maggie wondered why this case suddenly warranted the director’s presenceinstead of a crime scene tech. Their boss, Assistant Director Kunze, lived by a political code Maggie abhorred. Twice in the past year that code had almost gotten her killed. She hoped Ganza was on the site simply because he wanted to be here instead of sending one of his techs. He was good. She liked working with him. If there were any answers in the rubble, Ganza would find them.
    “I’ve got uniforms talking to the locals,” Racine continued. “They’re checking deliveries to the area and cab drivers. Maybe we get lucky and one of them saw something.”
    Maggie stopped outside the opening Tully and Racine had just exited. The scent accosted her and she pretended it didn’t bother her. Why had she thought the scorched stench would have dissipated? She knew better. What she didn’t know, what still surprised her, was her body’s involuntary reaction to it. She caught herself wanting to hold her breath as the smell seeped into her throat, her lungs. Even her mouth tasted the charred remains like the black carbon on an overdone charcoal-grilled steak.
    Don’t think about it , she told herself.
    Tully kept his fingers at the top of his Tyvek overalls’ zipper, almost as if waiting for Maggie’s signal whether they were going back inside.
    That’s when it occurred to her that she didn’t need to go in. What could she possibly learn that Tully and Racine hadn’t found? Her jaw relaxed. To insist on going for a look-see would be overkill. She didn’t need to drive home any point here.
    She saw the fire department’s crew still sifting and raking the ashes and rubble.
    “Any signs of the timing device?” she asked, not making a move.
    Tully shook his head. “Not yet.”
    “Fire chief believes they found the start point on the outside of the first building,” Racine said. “Preliminary guess is some kind of chemical reaction, because of the intensity of the fire. Said it looked similar to last week’s.”
    “There was gasoline poured along the alley from the front of the building to the Dumpster,” Tully told her. “It was against the brick wall. Burned up the line of accelerant without going anywhere else.”
    “The alley wasn’t the start point?”
    “Not even close. It might have been an afterthought. And a poorly executed one.”
    “The killer didn’t even try to burn the body?”
    Tully shrugged. “If that was his intention he didn’t do a very good job. The guy torches two buildings but his murder victim doesn’t quite catch fire. Doesn’t make sense.”
    “Oh, and there was another body inside the first building,” Racine said casually, almost absentmindedly. “Or at least someone’s head. They haven’t found the body yet.”
    “Stan said something about pressure in the skull building up enough to blow it off the body.”
    “Yeah,” Racine added with a roll of her eyes. “Gives new meaning to snap, crackle, and pop.”
    “Only the skull looks bashed in. Has a hole about the size of a fist.” Tully held up his own to emphasize how big.
    “You’re thinking he killed the person inside, too. But then why leave one body out by the Dumpster?”
    “Maybe the one inside was some poor schmuck who was sleeping there. Maybe a homeless person who saw him.” Racine’s turn to shrug.
    Truth was, they couldn’t answer any of those questions untilthey started piecing together the trace evidence or found out who the victims were.
    Maggie’s phone started ringing. She pulled it