Where There's Smoke…

**Immediately follows "…And Hell Followed With Him"**

"The trouble ain't that there is too many fools,
but that the lightning ain't distributed right."
Mark Twain

CHAPTER 1

"Okay, next on the list is…Houston?" Photographer Trina Jensen looked around the studio until her eyes landed on the rangy private investigator who now not only advised the LAPD but also the Fire Marshal's office.

CJ looked at her husband of two years who had been chosen to be part of the Fire Department's charity calendar. "Go on, hon - knock 'em dead." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and a small shove in the photographer's direction. He walked uncertainly to the smiling woman who shook his hand. "It's so nice to see you again. Come on up here and take that shirt off so Mary Ann can take a look at you." She took him by the arm and led him to the area where the makeup lady was set up. "Mary Ann, this is Houston."

"Hello." She gave him a big smile. "My goodness – let's get a look at you…" The woman looked at him from all sides. "You know, I believe he just needs a tiny bit of powder on his nose." She patted a cotton puff on the tip of his nose, grabbed him by the shoulders and sent him towards Trina. "Let me know how he looks under the lights, but I think he should be just fine."

"Great! We've really had it easy today. You boys haven't needed much work at all. Alright Houston – take that axe right there." She stepped back over where she had her camera set up. Giving him a few suggestions on poses she stopped for a minute and went over to him. "Relax a little, okay? Have fun with it." Following his gaze her eyes landed on CJ. "Is she your wife?"

"Yes ma'am." Matt watched as Jenson called CJ over and the two began talking. At almost sixteen weeks pregnant with twins, CJ's belly was showing and as she walked toward him he smiled.

"Hey, Cowboy. Trina says you need to relax a little." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him before whispering in his ear. After a slightly surprised look he got a mischievous grin on his face as CJ started backing away. "So what do you think?"

Matt nodded. "Sounds good." The grin showed up again and Trina began taking pictures as CJ continued to hold his attention and got him to take different poses. The photographer nodded her head and continued to snap pictures as the two exchanged sultry glances and in half an hour they were shooting all twelve of the firemen who had been chosen to participate in the calendar. In another thirty minutes they were done and Matt had changed back into jeans and a t-shirt and was walking out to his truck with CJ. He opened the door for her and before climbing in she wrapped her arms around his neck once again and pulled him down for a kiss.

"Thanks for being here." His hands were on her waist and they kissed again.

"I wouldn't have missed this for the world." After helping her into the truck, Matt walked around and opened the back door on the crew cab, stashing his turn out gear in the storage compartment under the back seat before getting behind the wheel.

"Ready to go home?" He reached across the console for her hand.

"Yep. Catey will want her ride on Cricket with you."

At 3:00AM Matt groaned as he fumbled for the phone at the side of the bed. He checked the caller ID: Rich Holt. "Yeah, Rich?" CJ, whose top half was draped over her husband's belly sleepily yawned and opened one eye, rolling over onto the bed and looking up at him.

"Houston, we're slammed and I need your help." After giving the PI the address where he was needed he thanked him. "You're flying solo on this one, buddy."

"Okay. See ya later." Matt was already half dressed. He had taken to laying out his clothes every night in case he received a call from either the fire department or Michael Hoyt. Turning back to his wife he kissed her. "Go back to sleep, Babe. Love you."

"Love you. Be careful." She watched as he walked through the bedroom door still yawning.

As he drove down the long driveway of the ranch nestled in the Santa Monica Mountains, Houston cracked the window on the truck allowing the cool air to flow inside. When he passed through the gate at the bottom of the hill the cowboy hit the switch for the blue and red lights that were now installed on the front of the truck. It wasn't until he hit traffic that Matt used the siren. Pulling up almost a block and a half away from Thorson's Theater, he hurriedly donned his gear, checking the air tank before grabbing the clipboard that contained the forms, camera, and small evidence bags. He also grabbed the camera that was now one of his latest projects.

Houston quickly spotted Battalion Chief Mark Weston who was giving orders to the men and women around him and the firefighters who had made entry into the building. Located in a row of shops and restaurants, Thorson's was one of the oldest around and due to its location on world famous Hollywood Boulevard, it was widely known for its classic interior of red velvet seats and ornate frescoes. Not only was the theater now in danger of destruction but the other businesses in the strip were as well.

Weston looked over and saw Houston approaching. "I'm glad to see you. This one is bad and deteriorating quickly. You probably want to go on in…" He paused. "Are you by yourself?"

"Yes sir. Rich said I was flying solo."

"Son, be careful in there." Weston handed him a radio. "Don't take any chances."

"Yes sir." Matt put on the mask with the radio now attached to it and then his helmet, then headed inside while turning on the video camera that he and Derwin Dunlap were now collaborating on; he had tested it out a couple of times and they were trying to decide if it was the right size for the job. On one hand it needed to be small enough to be taken inside a fire, but at the same time big enough that it could be operated easily while the user was wearing protective gloves.

Following behind a pair of firefighters wading into the theater with a hose, he noticed that one group was concentrating on the concession stand where the flames were reaching all the way to the ceiling. Going down to the end of the counter, Houston caught a glimpse of a trail of what appeared to have been popcorn behind the counter. The wrappers and boxes of the candy that were under the counters were already burnt to the point of being nearly impossible to identify. He made sure to film the walls behind the counter as well where the flames were making their way up toward the roof. There was no way he could take a sample behind the counter at that moment so he decided to go on in to the theater where several hoses had been run.

Once inside, he noticed that the fire had possibly been burning longer in the seats than it had in the concession stand and appeared to have been started near the center aisle of seats. Looking up toward the ceiling for the famous frescoes, he couldn't see them for all of the thick smoke that was filling the auditorium. There were three sections of seating on the ground floor and the center aisle of each appeared to have been where the fires were set; the charred remains of what had once been red velvet seats were nothing more than smoldering melted springs. As he continued to film, his eye was caught by something toward the middle of the center aisle. He carefully walked through the debris, still filming, and knelt down next to what he thought was the remains of a flare. Pulling out an evidence bag, he picked up the half burned cylinder and tucked it into the bag, sealing it and labeling it on the spot before retrieving residue samples from both the springs and the charred floor. The eastern section of seating in the theater had also been extinguished and he moved over to see what he could find there and once again collected residue samples from the floor.

The firefighters were now concentrated on the western section of seating, the balcony area, and the curtains and screen at the front of the auditorium. As he looked at the curtains burning up front, he noticed that they appeared to have caught fire near the center of the towering draperies. Matt zoomed in on it and moved that way as a shout went through the radio that the curtains were collapsing. Two firefighters were doing their best to move backward with one of the heavy hoses but weren't quick enough: the flaming curtains came down on top of them. Matt and two other firefighters removed the heavy rod from their backs and helped them back up on their feet seeming none the worse for wear. Removing a knife from his clipboard the PI knelt down over the curtains and cut out a section of material and stuffed it into an evidence bag. On the raised stage immediately behind where the curtains had been hanging he saw another partial cylinder and collected it as well before moving over to the western section of seating where he collected more samples. That area was now doused and the firemen were sifting through the debris looking for hotspots. Returning to the lobby, Matt was able to get behind the counter and collect samples both from the floor and the counter top, including what was clearly popcorn.

Next he went up to the balcony area where another group was checking for hotspots. Once again he found a partial cylinder and something bizarre: one entire row of the balcony had popcorn scattered in the seats along with an oily substance but only two seats had received any fire damage and it was minimal. The PI turned and went back down to the lobby and out to his truck, and since the fire was now out, removed the air tank, mask and helmet before digging around in a tool box and finding a large crescent wrench and a new tarp still in its packaging. Putting the helmet back on, Matt went back in and up to the balcony and loosened the bolts on one of the seats, putting it on the tarp before carefully wrapping it up and going back down to the truck. After putting it in the back seat, he picked up his clipboard and laser tape measure and began documenting the scene. He dusted the remnants of the popcorn machine for prints and then began measuring the scene and filling out the forms for his report. Mark Weston came inside when Matt was about half finished. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good." Matt finished writing down some measurements.

"What was that you hauled out of here earlier?"

"A seat from the balcony. Want to go up and take a look?" After receiving a nod from the Battalion Chief the PI led him up the stairs to the balcony. "This is where I took the seat out, but look at the rest of that row."

"Why in hell…they never leave this place dirty. This is about the only theater my wife will come to anymore because of all the trash and sticky floors in the others around."

"And there's also something oily on the upholstery; I think it might be coconut oil."

"They use that in the popcorn don't they?"

"Yes sir – and I also found what I think are what's left of three flares. They're bagged and in the truck."

"So a pretty clear case of arson." Weston nodded. "Do you need anything?"

"No sir, just got to finish up the paperwork and then make a trip to the lab. Thanks, though." The two men shook hands and Matt returned to his work as Weston walked out the front doors.

Almost an hour later, Houston returned to his truck, taking off the rest of his turn out gear and grabbing a bottle of water out of the cooler before sliding behind the wheel. It was almost 6:00AM and the sun would be rising in a matter of minutes. He yawned, turned the ignition on the truck and pulled away from the curb as he headed toward the lab. Once there he ran into Rich who was just walking out the front door.

"Hey Rookie, I was about to call you. How'd it go?"

"Very interesting – got some goodies here for Yoshi to run." He grabbed the box that contained the swabs, the piece of curtain, and the flares and then reached back in for the tarp-wrapped seat.

"What's that?" Rich took the box from him as Matt carefully hoisted the parcel on his shoulder.

"A seat."

"Uh huh…so what did you find?" Rich opened the door to the building for him and they walked down the hall to the lab as Matt told him. "Holy cow…" He looked at the evidence as Matt pulled it out of the box and logged it into the system. "Yeah, those are definitely flares – or what's left of them anyway."

"How about we go grab some breakfast before I come back and start putting all my notes in the computer?"

"Sounds like a good idea. There won't be anyone here to run this stuff until 8:00."