Swift Justice – a Matt Houston Story
**Takes place after immediately after "One Piece at a Time"**
"Our lives are not our own. From womb to tomb,
we are bound to others, past and present, and by each
crime, and every kindness, we birth our future."
Author Unknown
CHAPTER 1
Lt. Michael Hoyt leaned against his car watching as members of the Los Angeles Fire Department were winding down the fight against an apartment building fire. The sixteen year LAPD veteran hadn't been dispatched to the scene but had stopped when he saw the truck that belonged to his best friend. Private investigator Mattlock Houston had been learning about fire investigation and was about to wrap up his first class that he was taking as part of his duties as an advisor to the Fire Marshal's Office. From what Matt's wife CJ had told Michael, the PI had aced every part of the class so far. He was about a week away from the final exam.
Truth be told, Michael had stopped because he was worried about his friend. Matt had suffered from hydrogen cyanide poisoning after trying to save an elderly man from a hotel fire a few weeks earlier. That had been his first experience inside a burning building, and Hoyt knew it had taken a lot of courage for the man to go inside another fire. But courage wasn't something that the PI was lacking as he had so ably proved over the last few years.
Ten minutes later, Michael was relieved to see the man walking out of the building with one of the Fire Marshal's investigators who was helping to train him. As they came across the parking lot, both men removed the masks that had protected their faces and delivered air to them. The pair was in a serious conversation and neither had noticed the cop yet. Matt looked up and saw his friend and a large smile spread across his face. The man he was with, Fred Tucker followed the PI's gaze and smiled as well. He had worked with Michael to take down the arsonist who was to blame for the fire in which several people had been killed and Matt and the fire investigator he was working with - Rich Holt - were both injured.
"What brings you down here?" Matt began pulling off the air tank and turnout gear that he was wearing, handing his helmet to Michael.
"Oh, I just decided to come down and see if you needed some help; you know - someone to hold your helmet, shine your boots, that kind of thing." All three men cracked up. "How are you doing, Fred?" Michael shook hands with the man.
"Pretty good. Been taking the kid here for some on the job training. He needs a little more experience inside a live one."
"Houston – I need to see you over here." Battalion Chief Mark Weston waved the man over. Matt took off at a trot.
"So how's he doing?" Michael looked down at the helmet in his hands.
"I tell you what, Michael, he's really good. He just seems to see things…I don't know, just differently than most people."
"He thinks outside of the box." Hoyt was remembering what Matt's uncle Roy Houston had said about the man once.
"He does, but he also remembers details that it takes most investigators a good bit of experience to recall quickly. The man's a natural." The investigator walked over to his SUV that was parked in front of Matt's truck. The cop opened the passenger door of Matt's truck and put the helmet inside on the seat as Fred came back over after stashing part of his gear. "His class instructor is sure impressed with him. He's the only one in there that's aced everything – and some of those folks have been with the fire department several years."
Matt walked back over and began pulling off the coat that he was wearing. "Fred, he wants to talk to you."
"Okay, see you later." He walked over to talk to the chief.
Matt went to the back door of the truck's passenger side and opened it, removing a sports drink from a cooler. "Want something? I've got Fizzy Pop, lemonade…" He dug around.
"No thanks, I'm good." Hoyt watched as the man popped the top on the bottle and downed the liquid in just a minute. "Kind of hot in there, huh?"
"Yeah, but not near as hot as the hotel last time." Matt sat down on the floor at the edge of the door and began removing his boots, then the protective pants that were over his jeans. He reached back into the truck and pulled out the duty boots that he usually wore these days and put them on, then grabbed a fresh t-shirt from the bag that was open on the back seat and took off the one that was covered with sweat.
"You know, Superman usually used a phone booth."
"That's 'cause he didn't have a truck." Matt grinned.
"I still can't get used to the tattoos." The cop laughed and shook his head.
"So what are you doing?"
"I was on my way back to the station and saw that you were out here playing fireman and decided to check up on you."
Matt narrowed his eyes and gave Hoyt a look. "Not worried about me are you?"
"Me? Never." Michael looked back around where the firemen were now rolling up the hoses.
"Uh huh." Matt looked at his watch. "I'm hungry. Wanta see if CJ wants some lunch? Ricardo's maybe?"
"Sure. Although she might not want to be seen with you. You're a little on the grungy side." He playfully wrinkled up his nose.
"Never stopped her before." Matt wiggled his eyebrows and laughed as he reached up into the truck and pulled out his phone, hitting the office number on speed dial. "Hey sexy…want to go to Ricardo's?" He laughed. "Good thing it isn't on speaker. Alright, see you in a few." He hung up.
"You have absolutely ruined that girl." Michael started back toward his car. Looking over his shoulder he added, "She never used to do anything like that before you two got together."
"How would you know?" The PI was closing the door on the passenger side and walking around to the driver's side.
Matt and Michael parked in the garage at the Houston Industries building and met CJ in the lobby and then headed around the corner to one of their favorite places. After ordering the three began talking about their day. CJ had spent the morning in court helping a friend with a trademark infringement case. Michael had been to the scene of a domestic dispute that had turned murderous as well as a bank robbery that had ended badly for the two robbers who had been shot and killed in the lobby. The cop added to the story. "And do you know Pete Martel's company handled the cleanup on both scenes?"
"Boy, he's really getting around today. I heard him talking to the manager at the apartment building I was at – he's got that one lined up, too – when Fred releases it." He took another bite of his taco.
"Maybe I got in the wrong business. He's really been cleaning up lately…pun intended." Michael took a sip of tea.
"He may have to wait a little bit on the apartments." The PI lowered his voice.
"Did you two find something suspicious?"
Matt nodded as he swallowed. Leaning forward he spoke just above a whisper. "The first unit on the scene reported fire in two separate units: the one toward the back of the property was further along. Fred took that one and I took the one toward the front. We compared notes when we got back outside. Both of 'em were grease fires."
"How do you figure that to be arson?" CJ took a bite of her chicken enchiladas.
"Ordinarily it wouldn't, but the one that Fred found was in the apartment of a guy that's been in the hospital for two days in the ICU. The one that I found was in the apartment of an eighty one year old lady who died last week."
"Oh - that's how." She nodded.
"You know, nosy property managers can come in handy." Matt grinned. "But seriously, there was no way the lady was there to start it and no one was in the apartment. Somebody could have broken in there, but there was nothing in there to cook in a skillet of grease. There weren't even any eggs in the fridge, no bacon either. There was a grease container on the counter that whoever it was got the grease from, but folks don't ordinarily fry up a kitchen towel – or a trail of them leading to the curtains over the window. That's exactly what was in there. There's no doubt whatsoever that it was arson."
"What about the one that Fred was in?" The lawyer took a sip of tea.
"Oil in a skillet – they left the cooking oil on the counter – and paper towels were used to spread it to the living room. That one is has a lot more damage. It had more fuel to work with – the couch and chair were fully involved."
"Why would anybody do that? It's just stupid. There wasn't anything to gain by it. Isn't that why most arson fires are set?"
"A lot of them – some are started because of hatred. And some are just started because somebody was bored and wanted to see what would happen. Kids a lot of times get a wild idea."
"So do you think it was kids?" Michael had seen his share of stupid things done by kids in his sixteen years on the force.
The PI shrugged. "Don't know. The bottle of oil will be run for prints, and the grease container, too. And the doors, but I honestly don't see us getting anything good off of there. The skillet in the lady's apartment was cast iron. We might be able to get some off of there, but the one in the guy's apartment had a plastic handle that was completely melted. We're not gonna get squat off of it."
"So without the fingerprints…" CJ left it hanging there.
"Unless somebody saw something, but so far nobody has come forward." Matt polished off his tacos.