The more this guy talked, the more it seemed like this was a hole Gabriel would never dig himself out of. “Fantastic.”

“I’m going to see if we can avoid charges altogether.”

“How the hell are you going to do that?”

“It sounds like they have a lot, but really, they don’t have a thing on you. The lighters are suspicious, I’ll grant, but no one actually saw you start a fire. No other incendiary devices have been found in your home. You have no record of starting fires. You’re not a model student, but according to Layne, you’re not a troublemaker around school, either. They can’t even get you for impersonating a firefighter unless you did it to get money.”

“They have an eyewitness.”

“Sure they do. And you have a twin brother. Any eyewitness testimony is dead in the water.”

Holy crap. Gabriel didn’t have anything to say to that.

Mr. Forrest leaned in. “Layne says I was wrong about you.”

Gabriel didn’t know what to say to that, either.

“She has a whole timeline written out. She showed me some newspaper articles. Thinks you were the one to save the Hulster girl. Is that true?”

A timeline. That was so . . . so Layne. If he weren’t knee-deep in drama, he’d smile. Instead, he just shrugged and looked away. “The little girl went down the laundry chute. They didn’t think to check in the basement first.”

“And the fireman who went through the floor?”

Another shrug.

“Are you crazy?”

Gabriel met his eyes. “Probably.”

“They’re going to want to question you some more. Think you can handle it if I stay?”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “Why would you do that for me?”

“You saved my daughter’s life and protected my son. Why wouldn’t I do that for you?” Mr. Forrest didn’t wait for an answer, just glanced at his watch. “Let me make a few calls.”

Before he was through the door, Gabriel said, “Do you really think they’ll let me go?”

“I’ll be honest. An hour ago, I wasn’t too sure.”

“So what’s different now?”

Mr. Forrest gave him a grim look. “There’s been another fire.”

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 37

Gabriel got to leave.

At five o’clock in the morning.

He hadn’t eaten anything in almost twenty-four hours, and he sure as hell hadn’t slept. Mr. Forrest was driving him home, the radio in his BMW playing some kind of light rock. The streets were deserted this early on a Saturday, especially with a cold front moving in, bringing rain to spit at the windshield.

Layne’s father had stayed all night.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Thanks.” It felt woefully inadequate, but he wasn’t sure what else to say.

“I don’t mind driving you. Your brother has been dealing with the cops all night, too. No sense making him come out.”