Freddie brought the car to a stop by the sidewalk. The driveway was roped off with police tape, and there were clear signs near the house not to park on the side of the street, but there was nowhere else for Freddie to go. He took a deep breath, unbuckled his seat belt, then stepped out of the car to release Reagan Ann from her booster seat. She stood at his side once she was free, her small hand in his, and they looked at the house together.

It didn’t look like home anymore.

The windows were boarded over, and police tape had been stretched across the door. Charred marks scorched the walls outside the second floor windows. It didn’t look like any of the walls had fallen, and the roof was still in place, but he knew the whole thing would likely have to be gutted and redone. The smoke he’d seen rising on the day of the fire had been thick and black, and it meant that something had been burning, and had been burning badly.

“You okay?” Aaron asked as he stepped out of the vehicle. He dropped a hand on Freddie’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. “You sure you can do this?”

“Yeah,” Freddie said. The forensic investigators had called them in — their investigation was complete, and they’d asked Freddie come in to remove whatever salvageable items he could find. The window of time he had to work with was limited. He couldn’t let emotions stop him from reclaiming what little of his belongings he could.

“Then let’s go do it. Is there an investigator waiting inside?” Aaron asked. “Or maybe a fireman? Someone?”

“There will be someone there to make sure we’re safe inside the building,” Freddie said. He didn’t like how he couldn’t call it a home anymore, but it was true — the fire had stripped the house of their memories, and even though the structure was still standing, it wasn’t the same place it had been before. “They must be inside already.”

They crossed the lawn, Freddie and Aaron on either side of Reagan Ann. She had insisted on coming along despite Freddie’s attempts to get her to stay home. She wanted to help, she’d said. He hoped that it wasn’t too much for her. She’d been so strong over the past week, but she was still young, and Freddie himself was barely managing to keep it together.

As they approached the front steps, the front door opened. A man wearing a hardhat and steel-toed boots ducked beneath the police tape and approached them. Freddie didn’t recognize him.

“Detective Jaime Mitchell,” the man said, extending a hand. “You must be the Masterson’s”

Freddie shook his hand. “Frederick Masterson, sir. It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for being here today.”

“You’re welcome.” Jaime nodded toward the door. “My men are finishing up inside, but the bulk of the work is done, and we’re ready to have you comb through your belongings. If you’ll follow me, I’ll guide you through the house.”

“Yes, that sounds fine, thank you.”

Jaime led the way. He held up the police tape so Freddie, Reagan Ann, and Aaron could duck under it, then took them through the central hallway that served as the main access point to the rooms on the ground floor. To the left of the door was the stairwell leading to the second floor and ground floor bathroom. To the right was the living room, and through it, the dining room, where Freddie had done most of his decorating. Dead ahead was the kitchen.

“Can you tell me anything about what happened to cause the fire?” Freddie asked as they entered the living room. Signs of fire damage were minimal, but everything stank of smoke and a chemical smell that Freddie couldn’t identify. Luke had been right — the furniture wasn’t going to be salvageable, and by the looks of it, his electronics were smoked. The fire had to have been electrical. There were melted plugs and scorched sockets.

“The report is being finalized now,” Jaime said. He kept a careful eye on Freddie and his family, for which Freddie was thankful. “When it’s ready, I’ll be able to disclose any information to you. It shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes.”

That wasn’t long at all — they’d spend more time looking for items they could salvage from the wreckage.

“Hey, Freddie,” Aaron called from the dining room — he’d moved ahead to poke around while Freddie took picture frames off the wall. Reagan Ann’s baby pictures had been undamaged, thankfully. “Think your pans might be okay? There’s a drawer full of kitchen stuff over here.”

Freddie wasn’t sure. He plucked the last picture frame from the wall, then came to look at his supply cabinet. As far as he could tell, it was undamaged. Whether the smoke had gotten in and ruined his equipment or not was impossible to tell. With his nose so full of the smoke stench, Freddie couldn’t discern whether a particular object was spared.

“If it’s okay with you, we’ll move what we can outside,” Freddie said. “If I can salvage anything at all, it’ll be a blessing.”

“You want to carry the whole cabinet out with me?” Aaron tested its weight with a push of his hand. “I think between the two of us, we could lift it.”

“Let’s give it a shot.”

Freddie slotted the picture frames into one of the cabinet’s empty drawers, then helped Aaron lift it up. He walked backward, navigating his old home by memory, until they made it to the front door. Carefully, he took a step down, then another, and before long, they’d set the cabinet on the lawn. Reagan Ann had followed them out, and she hovered behind Aaron nervously. Freddie moved to her side and tucked her against his body. She melted into him, craving his support.

“What else do you need from inside?” Aaron asked. “You’re probably not going to be able to take anything wooden — it’s too porous, and the smoke will have seeped right in. You’re not going to want to take fabric, because I know the odour won’t come out. So, metal? That’s why I’m thinking your kitchen equipment might be saved. We can raid the kitchen.”

Freddie nodded. “I want to raid the kitchen. I’m pretty sure that my convection oven is fried.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” Freddie let out a slow, grounding breath. “It’s not ideal, that’s for sure, but conventional ovens work just as well. Convection ovens speed along the process when you’re baking small things, like cookies and cupcakes, but it’s not a deal breaker to have to work without it. I’ll just need to adjust.”

“You’re way more level-headed about this than I would be.” Aaron dusted off his hands and looked back at the house. “Well, let’s get back to work.”

“Daddy?” Reagan Ann asked in a soft voice.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“When can we go upstairs?”

Freddie stroked her hair. “It won’t be too much longer now. I think the worst of the fire was upstairs, so you’re going to have to be a strong girl for me when we go up there, okay? You need to make sure never to leave my side and always listen to me, Uncle Aaron, and any of the firefighters on the scene.”

“Okay.” She reached up and squeezed his hand, and Freddie squeezed back. “Let’s go now. I want to go back to Uncle Aaron’s house to see Princess.”

“We will.”

“Do you think we can save her cat tree?” Reagan Ann asked.

Freddie lifted her up into his arms and held her to his chest. There were tears in her eyes. He kissed her forehead and rocked her slowly. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. But you know what? When we get settled in our new house, we can build Princess a new cat tree, and you can help me design it so it’s the best one ever. How would you like that?”

“I’d like that a lot.” She smiled and kissed his cheek. Freddie’s heart flooded with love for his little girl, and he set her down and took hold of her hand again. Then they went back inside.

* * *

Freddie was halfway through scouring the kitchen for anything recoverable when there was a series of heavy footsteps on the stairs. He stopped poking through the cabinets and looked through the kitchen door to find Jaime’s men assembling by the doorway. With them was Luke, wearing civilian clothing.

“We’re all good here?” Luke asked. “If we are, I’ll be taking my leave.”

“You’re cleared to go. You’ve answered all our questions.”

Freddie set his hand on the doorframe, a little louder than he would have normally been on purpose. His bumbling had the desired effect. Luke looked up, and for a second, their eyes met. Freddie smiled, and Luke smiled back. When he smiled and meant it, his dimples showed. Freddie loved them.

“You guys have a good remainder of the day,” Luke said. He looked away from Freddie to wish the investigators well. “Hopefully, it’ll be a while before our paths cross again.”

“Here’s hoping,” one of the investigators said

Then, with a wayward glance at Freddie and a cocky, flirtatious smile, Luke was gone.

“Excuse us, Mr. Masterson,” Jaime said from the hallway. “Would you please join us outside for a moment before you continue going through the house?”

“Sure.”

Freddie made sure Aaron and Reagan Ann were together, then followed Jaime out through the front door. Luke had already gone.

Jaime closed the door behind them and tucked his hands into his back pockets. He looked out across the street, then cleared his throat. “The investigation has been completed, and based on numerous factors as well as testimony from the first responders who extinguished the blaze, we’ve come to the conclusion that this was arson.”

Freddie froze. “A-Arson?”

“There is evidence that leads us to believe someone introduced an accelerant to surfaces all over the home with the seat of the fire being upstairs. The downstairs never ignited, likely because the individual made their escape believing the flames would spread from upstairs before the fire could be extinguished.”

“But there was no one home.” Freddie’s tongue felt too big for his mouth, and he struggled to speak. “I’m the only one with keys, apart from the landlord, and my daughter and I were out when the fire started. I don’t understand how that’s possible. I made sure I locked the doors.”

“We didn’t find any signs of breaking and entering,” Jaime said. “From here, we’ll be working in tandem with the police to figure out what happened, and who is responsible.”

Freddie’s gut clenched. He’d hoped that after the investigation, he could start moving on with his life, but it looked like he’d be trapped dealing with this nightmare for a while longer. More than that, he felt sick thinking that someone could wish his tiny family such harm. It was just him and Reagan Ann. Laura had moved across the country to pursue her career, and she was completely out of the picture now — Reagan Ann’s custody was his, and his alone.

“Do you know of anyone who’d want to do you harm, Mr. Masterson?” Jaime asked. His voice was firm this time. “Do you have any enemies?”

“No. No, I really don’t.” It wasn’t cold, but Freddie couldn’t get warm. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. “I work from home. I lost my job last year, but the cut came from corporate, not from anyone I served directly under. My ex lives across the country, and we had an amicable breakup. She gave me full custody of our daughter — I didn’t fight her for it.”

“No family that you owe money to?” Jaime asked. His eyes were still across the street, and Freddie wished he knew what he was looking at. “No client you’re presently working with who was dissatisfied with your service?”

“No.”

“That’s all I have to ask. Thank you for your time, Mr. Masterson. You can go back to recovering your belongings now.”

Freddie didn’t know what to say. He mumbled a quick thanks, then ducked back under the police tape to return to the kitchen. By the end of the day, he was able to collect enough belongings to fill the trunk and the back seat of Aaron’s car, but not much more. What he wasn’t able to recover was his nerves.

Someone had tried to hurt him. They’re tried to hurt his daughter.

Freddie didn’t know who he could trust anymore.