Chapter 39 - The Fire at Midnight
At 12:18 a.m., the center’s alarm system activated.
Claire woke to Evan’s phone ringing.
He answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
Samuel’s voice was loud enough for Claire to hear.
“Fire.”
They were dressed in ninety seconds.
By the time they reached the riverfront, flames had already punched through two second-floor windows.
Fire engines blocked the street.
Families from the center’s six emergency apartments stood wrapped in blankets across the road.
Claire counted them.
Once.
Twice.
“Where’s Rebecca?”
Samuel pointed.
Rebecca Nolan stood beside her daughter.
Safe.
“Everyone out?”
Samuel’s expression changed.
“One volunteer missing.”
Claire’s stomach dropped.
“Who?”
“David Kim. Night intake coordinator.”
Evan was already moving toward the firefighters.
Claire grabbed his arm.
“No.”
“I’m not going inside.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
The old Evan might have ignored her.
This one didn’t.
He found the fire captain.
Two minutes later, firefighters emerged carrying David.
Alive.
Unconscious.
The crowd erupted.
Claire’s knees weakened.
Evan caught her.
“They got him.”
Ambulance doors closed around David.
The fire took forty minutes to control.
By two, investigators knew where it started.
Records room.
Accelerant.
Luis stared at the blackened windows.
“Arson.”
Claire felt something inside her settle.
Not fear.
Clarity.
The attackers had moved from financial violence to physical danger.
Grant arrived wearing jeans and a borrowed hotel jacket.
He looked at the building.
“My God.”
Claire turned.
“Did Sloane know where Charles was?”
“Probably.”
“Did Charles mention the flash drive?”
“No.”
Luis approached.
“We have security footage.”
Everyone looked at him.
“A van entered the service alley at eleven fifty-eight. Plates covered.”
“Person?”
“Masked.”
“Anything useful?”
Luis held up his phone.
The image showed the van’s rear door.
A partial commercial logo remained visible beneath black tape.
Evan read it.
“BPL.”
Grant frowned.
Claire knew.
“Brenner Pike & Lowe.”
The law firm processing Harbor Crest evictions.
Luis nodded.
“Vehicle fleet records show they use a subcontracted courier service called BPL Logistics.”
Marcus, arriving behind them, looked furious.
“Then we have a chain.”
A lawyer.
A title company.
A redevelopment firm.
Forged deeds.
Now arson.
Claire’s phone began ringing.
Malcolm.
Everyone saw the name.
“Answer,” Grant said.
Claire did.
“Hello?”
Malcolm sounded shocked.
“Claire, I just heard about the fire.”
“Did you?”
“Is everyone safe?”
“One volunteer is hospitalized.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Yes.”
“I want you to know the hospitality group will donate whatever is needed to rebuild.”
Claire almost laughed.
“Forty million?”
Silence.
Then:
“This is not the time.”
“You’re right.”
Claire looked at the burning building.
“This is the time to ask why a vehicle connected to one of your foreclosure law firms was outside my center minutes before the fire.”
Malcolm said nothing.
Claire continued.
“Still there?”
“You should speak to counsel.”
“That’s what guilty men say when they run out of polished sentences.”
“I had nothing to do with any fire.”
“Maybe.”
“I mean it.”
For the first time, she heard something genuine.
Fear.
Interesting.
“Then someone working for you is out of control.”
Malcolm’s breathing changed.
Claire understood.
Charles had been right.
Malcolm had created a machine he no longer fully controlled.
“Who?” she asked.
“What?”
“Who are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Bad answer.”
“Claire—”
“Good night, Malcolm.”
She hung up.
Grant looked at her.
“You heard it too?”
“Yes.”
Evan frowned.
“He sounded scared.”
“He is.”
“Of whom?”
Claire looked toward the destroyed records room.
The fire had targeted files.
Not people.
Whoever set it wanted evidence gone.
Luis approached carrying a sealed evidence bag recovered from the sidewalk.
Inside was a metal fuel receipt.
Cash transaction.
But handwritten on the back was a phone number.
Grant stared.
“I know that number.”
Claire looked at him.
“Whose?”
Grant went pale.
“Arthur Pendelton.”
The lawyer who had represented him during the divorce.
The lawyer later arrested for computer crimes.
The man Claire believed had disappeared permanently from her life.
Marcus whispered:
“He’s out.”
Claire turned.
“What?”
“Sentence reduction. Cooperation. He was released eight months ago.”
Evan looked toward the smoking building.
Old enemies.
Old mistakes.
Old debts.
Claire had believed ten years could bury them.
She had been wrong.
May you like
Arthur Pendelton had returned.
And this time, he had brought fire.
