Spark
Page 91
“I don’t smoke.”
The marshal dropped the pack on the table and picked up his pen again. “Then why’d you have two lighters at school?”
Oh.
Gabriel scowled.
“And,” said the marshal, “I understand there are a lot more at your house. Want to tell me about that?”
Gabriel froze. “At my house?”
“Officers are executing a search warrant right now.”
At least it answered the question about whether Michael knew what was going on.
Thank god Hunter had the fireman’s coat and helmet.
“I didn’t start those fires,” he said again.
“Is someone else in on it?”
A new note had entered the marshal’s voice. Did they know about Hunter? Gabriel was wary after getting trapped by the lighter question.
He looked at the table, running his finger along the plastic stripping on the edge. “I don’t know anything about it.” His voice was nonchalant, but he felt in danger of choking on his heartbeat.
“You sure?”
Gabriel looked up, meeting the marshal’s gaze evenly. “Pretty sure.”
“Let me explain something.” Marshal Faulkner dropped the pen on his folder and leaned forward. His voice gained an edge.
“You can jerk me around all night, but you’re not doing yourself any favors. One count of first-degree arson carries a penalty of thirty years. That’s one. We’ve got at least four. No matter what you tell me, we’ve got enough to keep you in the county detention center for a while.”
Gabriel swallowed. His hands were sweating again. “I didn’t start those fires.”
“You know about the one on Linden Park Lane?”
The first one. Alan Hulster’s house. The piercing fire alarms, the dead cat. The little girl. The anguished scream from the front lawn, the relieved, sobbing mother.
He gave half a shrug, feeling sweat under the collar of his shirt. “I don’t know anything about it.”
“Really?” Marshal Faulkner sat back. “You don’t think if we asked Marybeth Hulster to come in here, she might not recognize you?” He paused. “She said she hugged the ‘fireman’ who saved her little girl.”
Gabriel froze.
It had been dark. Soot had blackened his face.
But she’d stared straight into his eyes when she’d thanked him.
Would she recognize him? He had no idea.
He’d saved her child. Yes. She would recognize him.
Marshal Faulkner had that pen in his hand again. “I think maybe you know a little something.”
Gabriel didn’t say anything.
A pause, a glance in the folder. “Alan Hulster says you had an altercation in class that day.”
Gabriel came halfway out of his chair. “He was being a dick!
I didn’t burn down his house!”
“Sit down.”
“Damn it!” Gabriel’s hands braced against the table. It took everything he had not to shove it across the room. “I didn’t start those fires!”
“Sit. Now.” The marshal hadn’t moved. “Or the cuffs go back on.”
Gabriel sat.
“I didn’t start them,” he said. “I didn’t.”
“Don’t take this all on yourself, kid. Who else is in on it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying to me.”
“I don’t know who’s starting them.”
“What do you know?”
“Nothing!”
“What are your brothers going to tell me?”
Gabriel felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room. “They don’t know anything, either.”
“I have a report from a few weeks ago. You were caught with a few bags of fertilizer. Played it off as a prank, right? Was that supposed to be the first one?”
It was a prank. Tyler and Seth had beaten the crap out of Chris, so they were just going to screw with them. “What? No!”
“Your brother Christopher was with you. Is he the one starting the fires?”
“No.”
“Did he help you?”
“No!” It was taking everything Gabriel had to stay in his chair.
“He’s sixteen. We pull him in, he’ll be treated as a minor.
He’ll be held in juvenile detention until we get around to questioning him. What’s he going to tell ”
“You leave Chris alone! He had nothing to do with this!”
The lights blazed white hot and almost exploded, power pulsing in the air.
Gabriel reined it in, gasping from the effort.
The fire marshal had shoved back his chair, and he glanced between Gabriel and the lights overhead, which were settling back into a normal luminescence.
Gabriel swallowed. “Leave him alone,” he ground out. “Chris doesn’t know anything.”
“What do you know?”
“I don’t know who’s starting them.”
“Come on, kid ”
“I don’t.” Gabriel couldn’t look at him. He was dangerously afraid he might cry if this guy kept pushing.
“We know you used lighter fluid to start them. How much of that are we going to find around your house?”
“None. I don’t know.” They might have some in the garage.
Would that make him look guilty?
A pause, a tap of the pen against the folder. “Why don’t you tell me about the pentagrams?”
The marshal dropped the pack on the table and picked up his pen again. “Then why’d you have two lighters at school?”
Oh.
Gabriel scowled.
“And,” said the marshal, “I understand there are a lot more at your house. Want to tell me about that?”
Gabriel froze. “At my house?”
“Officers are executing a search warrant right now.”
At least it answered the question about whether Michael knew what was going on.
Thank god Hunter had the fireman’s coat and helmet.
“I didn’t start those fires,” he said again.
“Is someone else in on it?”
A new note had entered the marshal’s voice. Did they know about Hunter? Gabriel was wary after getting trapped by the lighter question.
He looked at the table, running his finger along the plastic stripping on the edge. “I don’t know anything about it.” His voice was nonchalant, but he felt in danger of choking on his heartbeat.
“You sure?”
Gabriel looked up, meeting the marshal’s gaze evenly. “Pretty sure.”
“Let me explain something.” Marshal Faulkner dropped the pen on his folder and leaned forward. His voice gained an edge.
“You can jerk me around all night, but you’re not doing yourself any favors. One count of first-degree arson carries a penalty of thirty years. That’s one. We’ve got at least four. No matter what you tell me, we’ve got enough to keep you in the county detention center for a while.”
Gabriel swallowed. His hands were sweating again. “I didn’t start those fires.”
“You know about the one on Linden Park Lane?”
The first one. Alan Hulster’s house. The piercing fire alarms, the dead cat. The little girl. The anguished scream from the front lawn, the relieved, sobbing mother.
He gave half a shrug, feeling sweat under the collar of his shirt. “I don’t know anything about it.”
“Really?” Marshal Faulkner sat back. “You don’t think if we asked Marybeth Hulster to come in here, she might not recognize you?” He paused. “She said she hugged the ‘fireman’ who saved her little girl.”
Gabriel froze.
It had been dark. Soot had blackened his face.
But she’d stared straight into his eyes when she’d thanked him.
Would she recognize him? He had no idea.
He’d saved her child. Yes. She would recognize him.
Marshal Faulkner had that pen in his hand again. “I think maybe you know a little something.”
Gabriel didn’t say anything.
A pause, a glance in the folder. “Alan Hulster says you had an altercation in class that day.”
Gabriel came halfway out of his chair. “He was being a dick!
I didn’t burn down his house!”
“Sit down.”
“Damn it!” Gabriel’s hands braced against the table. It took everything he had not to shove it across the room. “I didn’t start those fires!”
“Sit. Now.” The marshal hadn’t moved. “Or the cuffs go back on.”
Gabriel sat.
“I didn’t start them,” he said. “I didn’t.”
“Don’t take this all on yourself, kid. Who else is in on it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying to me.”
“I don’t know who’s starting them.”
“What do you know?”
“Nothing!”
“What are your brothers going to tell me?”
Gabriel felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room. “They don’t know anything, either.”
“I have a report from a few weeks ago. You were caught with a few bags of fertilizer. Played it off as a prank, right? Was that supposed to be the first one?”
It was a prank. Tyler and Seth had beaten the crap out of Chris, so they were just going to screw with them. “What? No!”
“Your brother Christopher was with you. Is he the one starting the fires?”
“No.”
“Did he help you?”
“No!” It was taking everything Gabriel had to stay in his chair.
“He’s sixteen. We pull him in, he’ll be treated as a minor.
He’ll be held in juvenile detention until we get around to questioning him. What’s he going to tell ”
“You leave Chris alone! He had nothing to do with this!”
The lights blazed white hot and almost exploded, power pulsing in the air.
Gabriel reined it in, gasping from the effort.
The fire marshal had shoved back his chair, and he glanced between Gabriel and the lights overhead, which were settling back into a normal luminescence.
Gabriel swallowed. “Leave him alone,” he ground out. “Chris doesn’t know anything.”
“What do you know?”
“I don’t know who’s starting them.”
“Come on, kid ”
“I don’t.” Gabriel couldn’t look at him. He was dangerously afraid he might cry if this guy kept pushing.
“We know you used lighter fluid to start them. How much of that are we going to find around your house?”
“None. I don’t know.” They might have some in the garage.
Would that make him look guilty?
A pause, a tap of the pen against the folder. “Why don’t you tell me about the pentagrams?”
