Up in Flames [The Heroes of Silver Springs 10] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) by Tonya Ramagos Page B

Gadsby and the tall, lanky officer talking to him. “I hate to speak ill of a fellow city employee, but you might want to take over that interview before that guy asks another poorly thought out question and Gadsby decks him.”
    Regina threw her head back, closed her eyes briefly, and moaned. “Felipe Somersby. How that man manages to put one foot in front of the other is beyond me. How he ever made it through the police academy really boggles my mind. He knows I’m here. I saw him look at me when I walked up. See how he’s standing now, trying to make himself look larger than life. Please.” She rolled her eyes. “I’d root for Gadsby to deck him if I knew it wouldn’t land the man behind bars. Who was the first firefighter to go into the building?”
    Dean rolled with the conversational shift and took a moment to think about the order in which he’d sent his men in. “That would have been Magee. Barrett was right behind him.”
    “I’ll need to talk to both of them as soon as they’re finished with what they’re doing.”
    Dean nodded. He’d expected that. Talking with him first and then the initial firefighters to enter the scene was standard procedure on any fire investigation. “Regina.” He shot a hand out, catching her forearm as she started to walk away. Her gaze fell to his hand and then slowly lifted to his eyes. “One way or another, you’re going to have to make a decision and follow through with it. You can’t keep going on like this.”
    She stared at him for a long moment with so many emotions swimming in her eyes he couldn’t even begin to define them all, nodded once, and gently tugged her arm from his grasp. He watched her walk away and then shifted his gaze back to the structure and found Max standing just outside the opened garage door looking from her to him and back again, suspicion, anger, and pure desire etched into the lines of his long, angular face.
     
    * * * *
     
    Regina detoured back to her car and pulled her set of turnouts from the trunk. Suiting up, she scanned the slowly dispersing crowd on the street. She saw a couple of SSPD officers she recognized and deemed to have far more experience and brains than Felipe Somersby talking with a few of the bystanders, taking down their statements, and turning their notepads around for the witness’s signatures. Those officers would turn the statements over to her for further inspection later.
    She grabbed what was known in the investigation unit as her ready-to-go kit, compiled of her evidence collection tools and camera equipment, from the trunk, tossed the strap of the bag over her shoulder, and closed the lid. She may not have been able to enter the structure just yet, but she could get a quick look around it.
    She slipped her hands into a pair of latex gloves as she approached the building slowly, her attention traveling from the roof to the ground as she studied it for any obvious evidence she could collect before it got further damaged by the firefighters still trampling about. She walked the full perimeter of the structure, stopping at the back door for a closer inspection.
    It stood wide open, offering a clear view of the charred office inside. Gadbsy’s office, she remembered from her last inspection of the automotive shop. Placing a careful hand on the outside wall, she leaned forward, peering further inside. Water dripped from the overhead beams, pooled in a shallow pond on the floor, and glistened on the scorched surfaces of the desk. In her mind’s eye, she saw what the office had looked like before. The desk had been a combination of sturdy metal with a wooden trim. A desktop computer had sat on top along with the usual paperwork, paperweights, stapler, and other items that often occupied the tops of desks. Two wooden chairs had sat before it and the wall to the left had been laden with metal filing cabinets.
    The desk had withstood the flames rather well, though the computer and other items on the top hadn’t