Chapter 41: Kindling the Truth
The morning atmosphere was brisk as I walked through the fire station's parking area, my coat fluttering gently with every move. I was dressed in a lengthy gray trench coat that I had purchased yesterday at the mall. It was a perfect fit, stylish, practical, and striking enough to leave a mark. Wearing the fedora and black leather gloves, I appeared as if I had emerged directly from a noir movie.
That was intentional.
I wasn't just here to ask questions—I was here to make people uneasy. To force reactions. To corner the mastermind.
The firefighters noticed me as soon as I entered their area. Their gaze shifted to me as their talk ceased. Some looked at each other and muttered to themselves.
One of them then moved forward. "Who are you?"
A few steps away, I came to a stop and slipped my gloved hands into the pockets of my coat. I said, "Mr. Dust," with ease. "Detective."
A ripple of confusion ran through them. A few looked between each other, clearly recognizing the name. One of them—a broad-shouldered man with a neatly trimmed beard, similar to Chief Ryan—tilted his head. "Wait... you mean like Mr. Fox?"
The reaction was predictable. Expected.
I let out a quiet chuckle. "We're acquainted," I said simply.
That was all they were getting.
Some of them relaxed a little, but others remained skeptical. That was fine.