Title: Firebug
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to The O.C.. Not for profit.
Description: There is a fire at Harbor. Arson. Guess who is the prime suspect?

Author's Note: Much thanks to my new beta fredsmith518 for all of her valuable input.

Chapter 6

Sandy was livid. It was Monday afternoon, and he'd just gotten a call telling him that Ryan was at the police station and that his presence was required. The woman that he had talked to couldn't – or wouldn't – give him any information other than that. Sandy couldn't believe it. Someone was going to get his ass handed to him when he got there. They knew they weren't supposed to talk to Ryan without him. And the chances that the police picked him up for something other than the fire were pretty miniscule.

When Sandy got to the Newport police station, he was directed to an interrogation room, where he found Detective Lowell with Ryan. They both stood up when Sandy entered. After checking to make sure that Ryan looked like he was okay, Sandy directed his fiercest glare at Lowell.

Det. Lowell was immediately conciliatory. "Mr. Cohen –"

"What the hell do you think you are doing? Dragging Ryan down here without me? I could have your badge for this."

He held up his hands as if to ward Sandy off. "Mr. Cohen, I promise, we didn't ask Mr. Atwood any questions. We were waiting until you got here."

Sandy continued to scowl at the detective, and told him sternly, "If you want to talk to Ryan, you contact me."

"I'm sorry. It was a... mistake."

Sandy didn't buy it for a minute. He knew that the police were getting desperate. It had been ten days since the fire, and they were no closer to solving the crime now than they were the day that it had happened. He knew that Ryan was their primary suspect, but they had no solid evidence against him. So they were probably willing to cut corners to try and trick Ryan into incriminating himself. Sandy wasn't about to let that happen.

Sandy continued to glare at Lowell. "I'd like to speak to my client. Now." He gestured at the two-way mirror. "Alone."

Detective Lowell nodded. He knew what Sandy was getting at. Nobody was allowed to listen in on privileged attorney-client conversations.

"Of course." Lowell and the officer who had opened the door for Sandy both left.

Sandy took a deep breath and looked at Ryan, who didn't look happy, but didn't look like he was traumatized, either, which was good. Sandy gave Ryan a little smile and directed him to sit at the table with his back to the two-way mirror. Just to be on the safe side. Sandy sat next to him.

Once they were seated, Sandy looked at Ryan more closely. "Are you okay, kid?"

"Yeah." Ryan rubbed his forehead absently. "Yeah."

"What happened?"

Ryan took a deep breath. "I was just getting out of school, and these two officers came up to me and told me that I was wanted at the police station. I remembered what you said, and told them that I wanted you with me. They said that you'd meet me here, but that I had to come with them."

"And when you got here? Did they ask you any questions?"

"They put me in here with that detective –"

"Lowell."

Ryan nodded. "Right. And no, he didn't ask me any questions."

Sandy breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. That's good."

"But he wouldn't shut up, though."

Sandy studied Ryan for a moment. That didn't sound good. It was illegal to ask a suspect questions without his attorney present. It wasn't technically illegal to merely talk to him, but it was pretty unethical. Sandy wasn't particularly surprised that Lowell had stooped to that level.

"What did he say?"

Ryan rolled his eyes. "About what you'd expect. Like how it was inevitable that they were going to find evidence against me, and that I'd be better off if I just told them what really happened. Blah, blah, blah."

Sandy smiled. "But you didn't fall for that for a minute."

Sandy was relieved when Ryan smiled back. "Right."

"Good." Sandy sighed. "Well, this isn't over, though. Now that I'm here, they'll start in with the questions. They'll try to provoke you. So just... stay calm and let me handle it, all right?"

Ryan nodded. Sandy patted him on the back.

Sandy took a quick look at the mirror behind him. He knew that the detective and other officers and maybe even the D.A. would probably be back there, watching. So he waved at them to come in. He wasn't surprised when it was just seconds later that the door opened and Detective Lowell came in.

Det. Lowell was emphatic. He stabbed the folder he was holding. "All of the evidence points to Ryan."

Sandy was just as emphatic. "Circumstantial evidence. You have no hard evidence. Circumstantial evidence proves nothing!"

"He has a history of arson."

Ryan caught his breath at that.

But Sandy had a response. "That wasn't arson. It was an accident. The charges were dropped."

Lowell sneered. "By your wife."

"By her company. She did not make the decision alone."

Lowell was insistent. "Ryan has a history of criminal behavior. He's on probation. He's been suspended from school..."

Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The detective was hitting a little too close to home. Ryan was glad that Sandy was there to handle things. He looked at Sandy, a little embarrassed. After meeting Ryan's gaze, Sandy answered the detective, more calmly.

"That was a mistake. All kids make mistakes. It doesn't make him a criminal." Sandy looked back at the detective. "And it doesn't mean that he committed this crime. You should know that, Detective."

"We have motive. Ryan has had problems with Mr. Schmidt." The officer glanced down at Ryan's school record. Ryan could guess what was in it. "Mr. Schmidt has given Ryan detention three times since the start of the school year, including the day of the fire. And there's a reprimand from Mr. Schmidt on his record."

Sandy shook his head in exasperation. "Come on, Lowell. You've got to know by now that none of the students like Mr. Schmidt. He gives students detention all the time. And suspensions, too. Ryan's hardly the only one who has tangled with him, and not the worst by far."

Ryan nodded to himself. That was so true. He could name a couple of students in his math class alone who had clashed with Mr. S. more than he had.

The detective wasn't deterred. "And we have means. Ryan is taking Chemistry this year. He knows the chemistry lab, where things are, what chemicals to use. And his fingerprints were found on the cabinet that was broken into."

Sandy sighed. "Of course his fingerprints are on the cabinet. He takes Chemistry! Like you just said. Along with plenty of other students. As far as knowing the chem lab goes, anybody who has taken chemistry at Harbor – now or in the past – or actually at any school could guess what would be there. And the chemicals had warning labels about being flammable. So that means nothing."

The detective scowled, but continued, "And we have opportunity. Ryan was at the school, confirmed, until five o'clock. And he has no alibi for the time of the fire."

Ryan looked down. He knew that the lack of an alibi would come back to haunt him. He looked at Sandy, who looked like he was starting to get a little fed up with the questioning.

"Detective. Again, there were plenty of other students at the school until five o'clock. Other students at detention, multiple sports had after-school practices, not to mention other after-school activities. And as far as an alibi goes..." Sandy glanced at Ryan then back to Detective Lowell. "You know as well as I do that not having an alibi doesn't prove anything. Most people can't account for every hour of every day. You can't prove that Ryan wasn't where he said he was."

Ryan looked at the detective to see what his reaction to that would be. He seemed to be out of questions. He was leafing through the folder, apparently looking for something else to argue for Ryan's guilt.

Sandy seized the opportunity. He leaned forward on the table. "Look, Detective. Face it, you have no case. You have no witnesses, no incriminating statements from Ryan or any supposed accomplices, no video tapes, no scientific evidence, nothing. You don't even know if Mr. Schmidt was the intended target. Maybe the arsonist was targeting the school in general. Maybe it was just a prank. You don't know anything."

Sandy's speech seemed to incense the detective. He also leaned forward on the table. "Mr. Cohen, I know Ryan did it. Everything points to him. I just can't prove it. But I will."

"Well, Detective Lowell, until you can, this interrogation is over. In fact, leave Ryan alone until and unless you have new evidence. Otherwise, I'll sue you for police harassment. Believe that."

The detective stood up, grabbing his paperwork as he went. "Fine. But this isn't over. Believe that." Then he stormed out.

After he left and Ryan was left alone with Sandy, he let go of the breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. He looked over at Sandy, who reached over and rubbed his arm.

"Don't worry, kid. They have nothing. And without hard evidence, there is no way they can charge you. Don't listen to Lowell."

Ryan sighed and looked in the direction that the detective had left. "I've seen the way these cops and lawyers look at me, Sandy. My record, my family..."

"It doesn't matter what they believe, only what they can prove. And they can't prove anything. Okay?"

Ryan looked back at Sandy and sighed. "Yeah, okay."

But he wasn't entirely convinced.

To Be Continued