"Smokescreen"
**Immediately follows "Double Vision"**
"What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end"
~"Hurt" by Trent Reznor
01
"Houston, we need your help." LA County Fire Marshal Don MacLemore grabbed his jacket and exited the door of his home as he made the call to one of the department's newest investigators. It was almost 10PM and it had been a long day for the fifty six year old. He had just been about to go to bed when he received the urgent call from his office.
At his home on Saddle Peak Road, Matt Houston sat up in his recliner. He had spent the better part of the day moving the herd of cattle on the California ranch to lower pastures and had been dozing in front of the TV while snuggled up with CJ. "What's wrong, Don?" He was surprised to hear from the fire marshal.
"You remember hearing about the Travis case? It was about the same time as the Cicero." He climbed behind the wheel and started the engine of the department SUV.
"Yeah, a little." Matt moved back to the bedroom and changed into duty boots, grabbing a jacket and - out of habit - his holster and Glock before starting back into the den, kissing CJ, and receiving the standard "be careful" mouthed at him before he headed toward the kitchen door.
"I just got a call that his wife was found dead and he's barricaded himself in the guest house."
"Okay." He slid behind the wheel of the Chevy truck and started the engine.
"It isn't on fire." Don knew about the trouble between Matt and the LAPD chief. "This is county jurisdiction. The sheriff called me and he specifically asked for you."
"Oh." There was no disguising the surprise in the younger man's voice. "I wasn't sure if you...ya know…"
"Houston, you have my complete backing as well as Sheriff Strauss. You had a problem, you dealt with it, and as far as I am concerned that just means that you're human. Besides you know what they say: what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
"I appreciate that."
"Anyway, Strauss thought you would be the perfect one to talk to Travis. He's threatened to kill himself."
"Don, I don't know if...I'm not sure I'm qualified to talk to somebody like that."
"You and Chris Travis were both in the Middle East around the same time and probably dealt with a lot of the same things. Plus you know fires, you know how to work homicides…" Pausing he considered his next words carefully. "And you've recently dealt with your troubles. From what I've heard he's refused counseling ever since he came back home."
"I'm no expert."
"I need you on this."
"Alright." He got the address and headed toward the home that was located north of the ranch.
"The sheriff will have a mobile command center set up by the time we get there."
"I'll see you there." He hung up and hit the lights and siren on the truck, glad that he had them put on the replacement for the now-scrapped "dream truck" and even more glad that after his troubles with LAPD that he hadn't had them taken off. Since he hadn't heard a word from the fire department he hadn't been sure if MacLemore still wanted him as a member of the team. Now he felt a glow of thankfulness that the man had not only kept a place for him but insisted that he was still a valued asset. His two month battle with depression - while not a long struggle - had been over-publicized by "reporter" Tamara Placer who painted him as being crazed and unstable even though he had been cleared by his own psychiatrist as well as the panel of doctors at the Harris County Sheriff's Office in Texas where he was a detective sergeant.
Turning his mind to the case at hand he punched CJ's number on his cell and it was immediately answered. "Babe, I need some quick research on Chris Travis." He filled her in on the call as she quickly went into their home office.
"Okay, I'm waiting on the computer." She took a seat behind the desk that had belonged to her father. "Congratulations by the way."
"Thanks. I wasn't sure he still wanted me around."
"Hon, Don's not stupid like Whitaker. Apparently the sheriff isn't either. Actually I heard that Strauss detests him - says that he has absolutely no business in law enforcement."
"He's got that right."
"Alright, let's see what I can find." She could hear the siren in the background as she began accessing information on the case. "Chris Travis is forty three, married to the former Marlena Anadarko for ten years, served in the army for eight years and with the 101st Airborne for four years - from 2004 to 2008. He was stationed in Iraq and Afghanistan. So you two really do have some things in common."
"What about his discharge?"
"Honorable."
"Okay, they think he killed his wife. What can you tell me about her?" He negotiated the curves in the road while he concentrated on what she told him.
"She's thirty eight, is from Redmond, Washington…" There was a pause as she worked the keyboard. "Comes from a family of four. Mom and dad are both deceased, and an older brother…" There was more clicking. "Hmmm...the brother was killed in prison a while back. He was in for bank robbery. The money was never recovered. Got shanked in the prison kitchen and the case is still unsolved."
"These folks have had more than a fair share of troubles. What can you tell me about the fire?"
There was another flurry of keystrokes. "Looks like Paul Sanderson was the investigator on it. The boys were four and seven years old, both found tied up in a closet on the second floor of the home. The couple was out on a date and the babysitter was found in the den. Blunt force trauma to the head. It went cold." She glanced up as Sheila came to the door with a questioning look on her face. CJ waved her in and she took a seat on the couch. "From what I can find the fire started in the laundry room."
"Alright. I may need some more help from you. And would you call Roger? I may need some help from him, too. I'm not real sure what I'm going to say to this guy. Don't want to screw it up."
"You've got this, baby. I'll call him."
"Love you."
"You, too. 'Bye." The call was disconnected and she looked over to the nanny as she dialed the psychiatrist's number.
"He's working for LAPD?" There was obvious surprise.
"Don MacLemore."
"Good. Whitaker can kiss my-"
"Roger, it's CJ." The lawyer gave the nanny a smile as she explained the situation.
"Well, it sounds like the sheriff and the fire marshal have a lot of faith in him."
"More than he has in himself right now. He thought he might need a little back up from you. He's not exactly sure how to approach it."
"Well, I'm at Fort Hood right now working on setting up a support group. I can talk to him on the phone, but there's no way I can get there."
"He may need to text you."
"That's fine. Tell him I'll be on standby. And tell him I said I believe he can handle this."
"He'll appreciate that. Thanks." She hung up and called her husband back relaying the message.
"Crap." The investigator felt a quiver of fear go through him. "I'm on scene. I'll talk to you later. Love you."
"Love you, baby." She disconnected the call.
At the end of the driveway Houston showed his fire department ID to a deputy who quickly nodded and told him that he was expected at the command center. As he drove up the dirt driveway he could see trees on either side and the sky up ahead was a sea of flashing lights. "God, help me out here. I don't know what I'm doing." The only thing that went through his mind was Scott Tisdale: now one of CJ's employees at the Rockin' PH, Matt had met him under somewhat similar circumstances a few years earlier. Taking a deep breath he exited the truck and approached the trailer. He showed his fire department ID to the deputy outside and was immediately directed to enter. Three men were seated in front of a bank of computer screens and looked up as he entered. He received a nod from LA County Sheriff Karl Strauss. In his mid-fifties, the man had the no-nonsense bearing of someone who has devoted their life to service. He stood, extended his hand, and greeted the younger man. "Houston, thanks for coming. Nice to meet you. This is Capt. Pablo Duarte …" The man on his right shook as did the other man. "And Lt. Josh McKinney. Please have a seat."
Taking the offered chair, Matt saw that a camera was trained on the guest house and could see a body laying next to a pickup. "So what exactly has he said?"
"He's threatened to kill himself...or have one of us do it. Says he didn't kill his wife. Is tired of people accusing him of having something to do with the deaths of his sons and the babysitter. Do you know the details of that case?"
"Just bare bones." He relayed what CJ had told him.
The door opened and MacLemore came inside. "How are we doing?"
"He's been quiet since I told him you were going to reopen the case."
Don nodded and looked to Matt. "I've got Rich and Rod looking into it."
"And Paul Sanderson worked it before?"
The Fire Marshal's expression darkened. "He's no longer with the department. Left after this case."
"Well…" He paused. "Do we have phone communications with him?"
Strauss made a face. "We did have him on the landline. Now he's not picking up."
"Was there actually anything pointing to his involvement in the deaths of the kids or the babysitter?" Matt turned his attention to MacLemore.
"No. Just public speculation."
Matt raised an eyebrow. "As in the media?"
"Uh huh." His look and tone gave Matt a nudge.
"Placer?"
"Yup."
The P.I. gave a disgusted sound. "Now I know what she was doing when she wasn't after me." He shook his head. "Let's try the landline again." Strauss slid a piece of paper to him and nodded at a phone sitting on the table top. He dialed the number. Nothing. "Alright. Got a bullhorn?"
The sheriff pointed at a button on the control panel. "Just punch and talk into that microphone."
"Hey, Mr. Travis? My name is Houston. Would you please pick up the phone?" He tried calling again. Still no answer. "Sir, Sheriff Strauss asked me to come take a look at the case involving the fire here. I work with the Fire Marshal. If we're going to get to the bottom of it I'm going to need your help. Please pick up the phone." He tried again with no response. "Sir, if you won't do it for yourself do it for your boys." Once more he punched the redial and this time it was answered.