Human Soul On Fire

It'd been a minute and he was almost proud of himself. He hadn't gotten into a fight, he hadn't gotten so drunk he couldn't find his way home, he hadn't fought someone for someone else honor- he hadn't done any of the bullshit he was known the last year for doing. He had problems sure, but he wasn't drowning them in alcohol so he wasn't in need of professional help, the talking kind nor the medical kind. One might say he even had his head above water for the first time since Randall died. He had other problems sure, but those would do what they were going to do, there was only so much you could help. Seeing Carson here, in a sober state rather than being the one that needed the help was a welcome change. "So tell me--" he started, walking up with a bloody mary in his hand, when in rome after all, "how may times you come out to one of these things because some dumbass forgets they're allergic to shellfish or are too drunk to care anymore?" He asked, surveying his surroundings, he was in on a game of pickleball in a minute, but that was a minute away, "I'm talking full anaphylaxis, and you gotta breathe for 'em."

Carson was built more for football than pickleball. He was a large guy, well-muscles, but not especially agile. He was fit, but it was the kind of fit built for brute force. Still, he was athletic enough that he was sure he could give some of these guys a run for their money. "Have you played this game before? I'm more of a football and basketball guy. Kinda picking up the rules as I go. Some of my guys from the fire house thought it'd be fun."

As the conversation shifted to business, though, Joel couldn't help but bite back a smile of sorts. "You can ask if you have questions, and I'll do my best to not have HR pull me out on the carpet," Joel said. "But things could be better over in the boardroom."

"It's necessary, though, the delay," Joel said as a waiter passed with a tray. Sure, it was ballsy to be talking out in the open about all of this, but it was true. A death occurred and a police investigation was under way -- it'd be even worse if they tried to continue with construction. "We'll figure it out. How are things at home? Your dad seems...tense."

Honestly, though? Half the room seemed like they had given up, and the other half seemed like they were getting there. Carson almost felt like a traitor, but all he could think about was how Shawn had won, how the people who lived in that apartment building weren't going to lose their homes. It was easy for him to imagine his life being different if he hadn't been adopted. He'd have grown up living in a place just like Oceanview, perhaps even more abandoned, left to the wolves. He would have been broke, have lacked the privilege and comfort his upbringing afforded him. He'd be just like those tenants, struggling to make ends meet.

"So, what do you think the next step is gonna be, if Oceanview is off the table? Or is that something you can't really speculate yet?"

It was sweet. Really. All of this had truly showed her how many wonderful people were still in Paxton and just how many of them had her back. She smiled slightly and shook her head. There really wasn't anything to do at this point. The Cowboys were going to take it from here and if anything happened to her, she knew exactly how well that would go for whomever it was. Though at this point it was feeling more like when something happened. There was probably something wrong with her that it didn't scare her as much as it was scaring other people.

"If someone wants me dead that bad," she started slowly, her eyebrows raising trying not to make light of something he was taking very seriously, "Then it doesn't really matter what we do. If the police," and another far more effective group, "Have that information, well...then that's all we really can put our trust in."

"The police," Carson started, "already missed this. If I hadn't asked my friend to take a second look, it would've just been written off as a hit and run." Carson nodded, exhaling. He didn't want to push more than Shawn was comfortable with. "You got people looking out for you, right? And you know where to find me if you need anything? These muscles are mostly just for show, but if I can carry a guy out of a burning building, maybe I can put some of my boxing fitness classes to good use and come to your aid like a knight in shining armor."

Carson offered a reassuring smile, at least the best one he could manage, extending a burly hand to squeeze her shoulder. "I'll tell my friend to talk to his people at work, and see what they wanna do. Finding there was explosives planted doesn't mean they know where it came from, but at least they won't dismiss it as just an accident again."

As Joel drifted through the modest crowd, avoiding floating trays, he estimated the cost of each platter in his mind. Every expense was just one more creep towards the red. Joel wasn’t surprised nor could he say he was upset by the facts of the matter.

When Carson approached, champagne flute in hand, Joel smiled benignly. “Well, more loaded for some than others — I’m doing well, all moved in,” he nodded at Carson, “And yourself? I imagine you haven’t avoided some of the emergency calls related to Oceanview, the fire on main, or whatever else is cause for concern?”

"I've been keeping pretty busy," Carson nodded. Joel was an intelligent man. He just didn't know how far he could trust Obsidian Board members right now, even if they were friends. "I was on call the night Grayson Hall passed, and the night of the fire at Shear Beauty. Part of the job, but you never relish seeing anything like that happen. I'm just glad nobody was hurt in the fire."

Carson exhaled, quietly surveying the room. He could almost sense the underlying tension beneath the expensive tailored suits. "Dare I even ask how things are going in the office? I doubt the delays with the construction work are going down well."

"Targeted," she nodded. That certainly felt like the right way to describe it. It was hilarious to her that somehow she'd touched the right nerve and moved herself to the top of some shadowy board room's list. Of course, laughter wasn't exactly the most appropriate response right now. So she went back to walking him through it even as she opened the email he'd just sent her.

"Who would want to put that on my truck? I just run the Historic Society. Don't even have a record." That wasn't entirely true. There was something on her record. She was just never charged so it didn't show up on anything. Not that she deserved to be charged really, it was the other guys fault. She would for sure die on that hill. "Seems a little pointless to target me. There's more important people in town. Like, I don't know, the mayor or something."

"I don't know what this means for the case, if there even is one. This just turned from a simple hit and run, something that was potentially an accident, to something else entirely." Carson's voice was low, not wanting to get the attention of anyone else who might overhear what they were talking about. If this situation proved anything, it was that whoever Shawn had pissed off was more than happy to try and end her life, so why not Carson's, too? "What do you wanna do, Shawn? I don't know if he's told anyone about this yet, or if he ran it off the record... I don't know if he'd bury it if I even asked. But do you want us to try? What if they try again?"

Mat was not a bad guy, not by nature, and he tried not to be that type of person if he didn't have to be. Carson made it easy for him to not be that way, made it easy to drop a little bit of his walls down, which helped make him feel comfortable. "I have my moments, mostly I just spoil the people who are good to me. I kind of owe you one, don't I? Coming to my rescue and all." He smiled at the mention of heart shaped pizza, curiously quirking a brow. "Heart shaped pizza, hm? How can I say no to that? Name the day and time. I'll be there."

It was nice to hear that Carson had been doing good, chuckling at the comment of his father trying to keep him busy. "It's good to keep busy, but make sure you're taking time for yourself." If you left it up to Mat, he would be asleep for the majority of the day. He let out a small sigh and gave a little nod at the mention of how he had acted during their encounter. "Yeah, of course. I'm glad to be meeting with you again, too. That first night we met was a bit rough, you know? Stuck on the side of the road and I wasn't really prepared to talk about that subject. I appreciate your patience and that you didn't push too much. Thank you for that. Really." He smiled, "The cupcakes are a nice bonus."

Just on cue the server comes over with their cupcakes and coffees. He instantly picks his cup up to take a sip, humming happily. "It's definitely weird, but it's okay." Mat paused, "Where do you want to start first?"

"Weird, but it's okay. That's exactly what you wanna hear on a date," Carson joked, giving an awkward laugh, lifting a well-muscled arm to run a hand through his hair. They were playing a dangerous game. Carson wished he could have just flirted with Mat, engaged in harmless Valentine's Day sweetness. Instead, they were talking about a man's death over hot drinks and cupcakes. It was surreal. "I'm well aware of the potential consequences of us talking like this," Carson clarified. He needed Mat to know that he both understood and appreciated the risk he was taking. "I'm not looking to blow up your spot. I don't even know if I can do anything with any of this information if you even give it to me, but it's gonna kill me if I don't ask."

Carson took a breath, stirring some marshmallows into his hot chocolate as they started to melt. "I could get in trouble too, you know? Not just legally, but maybe physically. That's starting to become more apparent to me." His father pressed upon him over and over that he should keep his head down. This couldn't just be about business. His father had to know something, that they were going to be at some kind of risk if they opposed Obsidian. "The cops lied about Grayson's death, the timing of it. I think they used you to lie too." He exhaled, sipping his drink.

"He didn't die on the scene. He died in the ambulance. There must be a reason they didn't want that in the record." It had to have something to do with him mentioning Raina. "They're also hiding the name of the person who pulled the trigger. I shouldn't even be saying this stuff. You might turn around and get me in a whole lot of trouble. But I have a feeling you won't. I have a feeling you have questions, too. Maybe together we can find answers."

Shawn leaned back in her chair to give Carson more space to have his conversation. She was used to just quietly sitting with people and watching things around them. She'd spent years doing it. Carson probably answered his phone for actual emergencies that involved things being on fire or cats being up trees, there were others in her life that took calls with very different kinds of emergencies.

"Explosive material ending up on your truck? No, I don't feel like that's the kind of thing that just gets there." There were some chemicals used on farms and ranches that could leave traces behind, but Shawn didn't work on a ranch. "I'm getting him to send me the report. Ah, here it is." Carson quickly forwarded it to her. "Be careful with this. I don't wanna get my buddy in trouble. Or myself. But this is serious, Shawn. It means it was targeted." He didn't want to frighten her, but explosives on the truck could only mean they were hoping to find a way to finish the job if the accident itself didn't do it.

The date had not occurred to him when they both agreed to meet up today, in fact he barely knew what day of the week it was these days, he really was just that tired these days. Mat showed up a little early today thanks to having an off day today but it was lucky for him that he didn't have to wait too long for Carson to arrive. “Hey,” Mat greeted, giving a small smile. He follows the other inside and over to the table Carson chose. It seemed like a secluded enough table, just out of the way from anyone within earshot. Honestly the decorations around the cage should have given Matias some sort of clue of sorts, but he really was that tired. He was just settling in when the server came over to greet them, and the realization of it being Valentine’s Day finally hit.

“You know, you could’ve just asked me to be your Valentine. I would’ve said yes.” Mat teased, chuckling a bit. “Nah don’t worry about it. I didn’t realize the day either, honestly I barely know what hour of the day it is.” When the server returns, Mat doesn’t miss a beat, “Could I please be the one who gets the check today? I want to spoil my date. Also, can we add some of those cute little heart shaped cupcakes you guys have.” He adds a hot coffee and a polite thank you to end his order. Once Carson has given his own order, Matias reruns to their conversation. “Glad you could make it. How have you been since we last met?”

Mat was smooth as hell, talking up a big game with the server. "You are something else," Carson murmured, cheeks still pulled into a small grin. "Calling me your date and getting me cupcakes? Talk about spoiling me. Although, this means I have to take you out again to return the favor. I'm thinking... pizza." He'd been having a craving for it these last few days. "I heard Prairie Pies has been selling special heart shaped ones." Carson wasn't entirely sure if they were actually flirting, or just making a display of things in case anyone happened to wonder what that nosey paramedic was doing talking to the security guard that had been present the night of Grayson's death.

"I've been good. My dad has been trying to keep me busy with company events whenever I'm not working." He was sure his father was still hoping Carson would hit it off with someone from Obsidian, to distract Carson from his extra-curricular activities, from looking into the fire at Shear Beauty or asking too many questions about Shawn Betancourt's accidents. He was sure his father didn't have in mind going out on a date with Oceanview's security guard. "I could tell you were kind of out of sorts the other night when I brought up how we first met. But I'm glad you agreed to meet again. And not just for the cupcakes."

He thanked their server when she brought over their cupcakes and coffees. He wished Matias would have let him pay, but he was going to make sure he left a generous tip. "Is talking about what happened that night over cupcakes with pink heart frosting on them a little weird?"

"No," she snorted. She had the bare minimum insurance on her truck. For one thing, it was very old. For another, she wasn't exactly made of money. While she wasn't desperate for funds by any means, the President of the Historic Society wasn't exactly a lofty position. And between student loans and medical bills...

"That is quite the offer but I think I'm good." She always struggled to accept help. It seemed like that was a common theme with people in this town or maybe those that lived this lifestyle all shared that trait because she had so many friends who also would have the same issue. It took everything she had to let Julie drive her around occasionally. Of course, Julie knew how to get Shawn to do anything whether she admitted it or not. "Paxton isn't that big and at least it's not ninety degrees out."

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Carson always answered it, just in case it was an emergency or they needed him at the station. "Hello? Hey, what's up? ...No shot. Can you text me a copy? I'm actually with her right now. Okay. Thanks." Carson shook his head, reeling a little as he hung up the phone. "So, that was my pal Ray at the police station. He's sending me over a report. They found traces of explosives on the underside of your car, but... it didn't show up in the first report. He ran it again, 'cause I asked him. Kinda fishy, right?"

Misplaced responsibility. Those words branded themselves in his mind, because he would not have said it better himself. He feels his shoulders becoming a bit less tense as he listens to the other speak, watching him as he speaks. He softly cleared his throat, "Sorry to hear about your folks, man. That's tough. Whether you remember them or not." Even though he didn't have a relationship with his parents, via his aunt and uncle, at least he knew they were alive somewhere. He thought about Grayson's kids then and the guilt got stronger. He didn't say much else on the matter but it was clear that there was something troubling him now.

He does end up softly chuckling a bit, the concern on his face momentarily dissipating. "You know, for some reason, that makes you sound like you are a cop. You're undercover, huh?" He teased. His gaze travels back to the charging car battery, "I believe you." For a moment he remains silent, thinking over what he wanted to say. Mat sighed, "I don't want to drag you into something like this, Carson. I like you. You remind me of what the world felt like before my parents gave up on me. A world that has a bit of good in it." He looks back to the other, "The camera doesn't lie, but it doesn't really matter what was on them. You'll find no truth on those tapes. " Mat sighed, "When I told you that it's easy to mistake one thing for another thing... Of course, you probably know, I wasn't talking about the statements made by the family. The thing is... I want justice for Grayson, too, Carson. I do. But..." His voice trails off, suddenly going a bit quiet, his gaze returns to the charging battery. "...It doesn't change the fact that a man died a death that could have been prevented. It didn't have to be that way. It was just a cruel reminder that life...can be so unfair. And since I couldn’t help prevent that, why not try to prevent my own?" He wasn’t sure what would happen if he did speak up, but he couldn’t imagine it would be a good thing.

Matias sighs, "Do you suppose this thing is done charging? I should probably get going. But...I would not be opposed to talking again, Carson West. Perhaps somewhere a bit more private. If you'd be up for that."

If Matias didn't want to share, Carson couldn't force him. It was over-stepping to even ask, but he simply couldn't help himself. "Nobody is dragging me. Trust me, I've been dragging myself into this for months." Ever since his father had publicly began supporting and working with Obsidian, a complete one-eighty for someone so prideful and stubborn, who Carson would expect to protect his own business interests before bowing to someone else's, Carson had been curious. Things kept happening. Shawn's car accident, Grayson's death, the fire at Shear Beauty. No, nobody had to drag Carson. He walked in willingly, with eyes open.

"It's probably charged enough to at least get you home. Try and start it up." Carson understood the reluctance. Matias wanted to open up. He just didn't know how. Carson nodded. It was late, and they were still standing on the side of the road in the middle of the night. "Here," he said, handing over his cellphone and unlocking it to the contacts page. "Go ahead and put your number in? We'll catch up some time after I'm not coming off a twenty-four hour shift and you're not stranded on the side of the street."

Shawn shook her head with a roll of her eyes. Everyone had their own idea of what falling for someone really was but more often than not there was some mention of a spark. Some fire that needed to be lit for anything to work. Wasn't that always how it was in movies and books too? She just didn't see it that way and never really had. Not that she had any more concrete idea of what it was supposed to be than anyone else. Given there were buildings burning to the ground and bodies piling up, it just seemed strange that was what Carson's father was so focused on. All that money came with a truck full of privilege too.

"If no one says anything then it's not going down with you. It's just dealing with discomfort for a minute. If you'd do it for them then you should probably believe they'd do it for you too." Maybe his supervisors couldn't discipline him, although she was certain there was some confidentiality thing they could hang that on, but Obsidian could sure do something about it. She was certain they had to be behind it. They were behind all of the other terrible things happening lately. "Haven't heard anything, no. Waiting on the insurance company to send me money for my truck which wasn't worth a ton to be honest. But...it's something. Need to get something else since I've been walking everywhere when Julie's busy."

"Does your insurance not have a policy where you get a courtesy car while they're waiting for it to be paid out?" Carson was the kind of person who'd never had to worry about anything like that a day in his life. If something happened to his car, he could simply buy a new one. "Okay, maybe this is totally overstepping, but I have a car I don't use too often. I usually drive my Range Rover. You can borrow it, 'til your insurance company gets it's shit together."

At the scenario Carson painted, Julie listened carefully. The questions were innocent, but she was no fool. If Carson was asking that meant there was a good chance that was the reality of the situation at hand. She drank slowly, watching as he painted some possibilities. Caid did say that the place went up almost immediately -- like Hell had opened right up on him.

"No, we don't. The place got an upgrade before I took over to allow for heating," Julie explained. It was the rest of what Carson said that stood out to her. He was absolutely right; hairspray, heat styling tools, developer: all of those things just needed a spark at the right time. "I do, though. I'll make sure to let the chief and the adjuster have their glory, though."

"I wasn't trying to say it was you," Carson clarified, his tone gentle. He and Julie both knew what this conversation was really about, how they were speaking in riddles to keep themselves out of trouble in case the wrong people overhear their conversation. Carson had landed himself in trouble with the department already for talking about Grayson's death. They couldn't prove it was him, but they certainly had their eyes on him because of it. He had to at least have the appearance of towing the line.

"There are just certain things that are pretty common in accidents. Stoves left on, dish towel on top of the burners, cigarettes or incense or candles left unattended..." Carson lowered his tone a little. "If someone wanted to make something seem accidental, that might be something they do. Use something that's common and believable." Carson had seen it before. Mostly in situations where someone wanted the insurance money. Most arsonists who were in it for destruction's sake didn't cover their tracks. This seemed like something else entirely. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."

"Well, fuck."

A honky tonk bar wasn't exactly his usual scene, but he'd heard on the radio that the place was running a two-for-one beer special on the same weekend that he happened to have some free time. In all honesty, he'd mostly wanted to get off the ranch for a few hours. Eating, sleeping, shitting and working all in the same place (no matter how large it was) was beginning to chafe. He'd known when he signed on that he'd have very little home-to-work life balance, but still. He needed a breather every now and then.

Apparently, his need for a temporary reprieve was about to be his own undoing.

In a fit of spiteful defiance, he'd wandered into the men's bathroom earlier to smoke a cig and scroll on his phone - because there was no way in hell he was going to walk all the way back outside in the cold just to take a few puffs. Wasn't his fault most of the places in this town had gone woke and banned smoking and vaping on the premises.

When he'd eventually left, he thought he'd stubbed out the filter good enough before tossing it into the trash, but apparently a few embers had still been smoldering - enough to catch and set the whole damn thing on fire.

Now, he was standing outside (shivering in the cold he had been trying to avoid) as the fire department rolled up, red and white lights flashing. The fire had already been put out, management had seen to that, but the building still had to be cleared before they could all go back inside.

As the crowd around him bitched and moaned about their abandoned drinks and lack of adequate outerwear, Murph sighed and mustered up what little dignity he had before breaking away from the mass of people lingering in the parking lot and approaching the nearest firefighter.

"So uh. Just so ya' know, it wasn't that big of a deal. Just a cigarette butt torching a few paper towels in the john." He shrugged. "S'already out."

"A cigarette in the bathroom?" Carson wasn't a smoker. He'd never been a smoker. He couldn't claim to understand the cravings that drove people to make such ill-informed choices. "Are you freaking kidding me?" Carson usually tried not to get exasperated about this kind of thing, but his friend's business had almost burned to the ground not too long ago, and some people were out there being reckless by smoking in a tiny area inside a bar; a building filled with spirits, people, and wood. It easily could have been a disaster.

"Now who would go and do something like that? Did they not see Shear Beauty close because of fire damage? I doubt anyone wants to lose a second business in two weeks to an accident that could easily be avoided by just using the outside smoking area as intended." Carson's Fire Captain was already making his rounds, talking to the owner or the manager, whoever was in charge that night, and getting a full report on what happened. Carson hated that his mind went to a failed arson attempt. His mind was being overrun with so many conspiracies and so much skepticism lately. After all his life living in the close-knit communoty of Paxton, the last couple years had really done a number on him and his faith in people. "Did you see what happened, sir?"