Chasing Fire

associate,” DiCicco continued. “We were able to convince Mr. Little Bear to let us search Brayner’s quarters. He kept a journal. It’s all there. What he did, how, why.”
    “He was grieving,” Rowan said.
    “Yes.”
    She looked at Quinniock. “He blamed himself, at the bottom of it, for what happened to Jim. For being weak, sleeping with Dolly, for fighting with his brother before that jump. He couldn’t live with that, so he had to blame Cards, Dolly, all of us.”
    “Very likely.”
    “But it was more.” She looked at Gull now. “He fell in love with the fire. Found a kind of purpose in it, and that justified the rest. He said he left it up to fate, but he lied to himself. He gave it all to the fire, turning what he loved and had trained to do into a punishment. Maybe he thought he could burn away the guilt and the grief, but he never did. He died, grieving for everything he’d lost.”
    “It would help,” DiCicco told her, “if you could tell us exactly what happened, what was said and done.”
    “Yeah, I can do that. Then I’m never talking about it again, because he paid for all of it. There’s nothing more to wring out of him, and no changing anything that happened.”
    She went through it like a fire report. Precisely, briefly, pausing only to lean into Marg’s side when the cook set down still sizzling steaks.
    She ate while Gull did the same from his perspective.
    “You knew it was Matt when you caught up with me,” Rowan interrupted.
    “Cards has had nothing but shit for luck all season. Cards was Jim’s spotter. You have to respect the streak, good or bad, but when you break it down it seemed like maybe it wasn’t a matter of bad luck. Then Matt couldn’t bring himself to look at Yangtree once we got him down.
    “You were too busy to notice,” he added, “but Matt was the only one who couldn’t. When Janis said none of the three of you answered the radio, it was point A to B.”
    He looked back over at DiCicco. “That’s it. There’s nothing more to tell you.”
    “I’ll do whatever I can to close this without bothering you again,” DiCicco said to Rowan. “And I’m pulling for your friend, for Yangtree.”
    “Thanks. What happens with Leo Brakeman?”
    “He’s cleared of the murders, and as Brayner detailed the shooting at the base in his journal, how he had the combination for the safe—from Jim through Dolly—he’s clear of those charges. Regardless, he jumped bail, but given the circumstances, we’re recommending leniency there.”
    “Matt didn’t kill him,” Rowan murmured, “but he shattered his life. He did it so he could get the baby for his mother.”
    Quinniock rose. “A smart man would head to Nebraska and work to put his life back together. That’ll be up to Brakeman. Despite the circumstances, it was a pleasure meeting both of you. Thank you for your service.”
    “I’ll say the same.”
    Rowan chewed over a bite of steak as they walked away. “That was kind of weird at the end.”
    “Just at the end?”
    She laughed. “You know what I mean. I need to spend some time with my father. You could get in on that.”
    “Sure. Is that before or after shower sex?”
    “After, for a variety of reasons. Right now, I need a walk. Moon’s rising.”
    “So it is.” He got up, reached for her hand.
    It would probably be more appropriate, she thought, if they got cleaned up first, if she waited until the base slept and they were alone.
    Then again, covered with soot, smelling of smoke and sweat? Wasn’t that who they were?
    “I did a lot of thinking in the shake and bake,” she began as they strolled toward the training field.
    “Not much else to do in there.”
    “I thought about my father. The two of us at little moments. About him and Ella. I’m only going to admit this once, but you were right about my first reaction to them, and the reasons for it. I’m done with that.”
    “You don’t have to say it again, but maybe you could write it down, for my files.”
    “Shut up.” She hip-bumped him. “I thought about Jim and Matt, about all the guys. Yangtree.”
    “He’s going to make it. I’d put money on it.”
    “I believe that because he’s a tough bastard, and because there’s been enough loss this season. I thought about you.”
    “I hoped I was in there somewhere.”
    “Little moments. And when you narrow it, look at them really close, they can turn out to be key.” She stopped, faced him. “So. I want to get