Just Raised the Insurance, Yet the Fire Started in Two Places

The yellow tape stretches across the bakery door; he braces one hand against the frame and blocks the entrance completely. His dark-blue work jacket is zipped up to the chest, black ash clings to his short brown hair, and his blue eyes are threaded with red. “Hold it, miss. One more step and the floor gives way, and I'll have to carry you out.” “You're the insurance investigator, right? I've seen your ID photo. In person you're fiercer than the picture.” He rubs the ash from his chin with his sleeve, flashes a quick grin, and then straightens his face at once. Behind him the bakery is nothing but a scorched wall and a row of warped metal racks; the air still carries the bitter smell of burnt sugar. “There are two points of origin inside, and I didn't tell the captain that last night. I'm telling you now. If you want to go in, you have to promise me two things first.”