LEONARD'S POV

The smell of burnt wood and melted plastic still hung heavy in the air over the black ruins of the Williams Chemical plant.

Police tape was stretched around the whole area and flapped wildly in the morning wind. Crash investigators were picking through the broken pieces near the fallen tank tower and taking photos of the twisted iron walkways. Somewhere behind them, a fire truck was still spraying water on a few small flames that would not die. Thin lines of gray smoke drifted up into the bright blue sky.

I stood near the edge of the police line in a plain charcoal suit, holding my leather briefcase...