Sam said. He shrugged out of his parka, sending another wave of fire stink through the office. Mustachio kept his coat on. It did not appear that he would be staying. Hank was both glad and peeved about that. “I don’t think there’s much more to do, anyway,” Mustachio said. “It’ll be ruled an accidental fire likely caused by the damage to the boat sustained during the earlier wreck and subsequent rescue.” “‘Likely’?” Hank pounced on the word. “So you aren’t sure?” Mustachio groaned. “Look, that boat was done for. It could have been fuel that leaked after the paddle wheel got hacked off. Or hydraulic fluid. All it needed was an ignition source.” “But was there one—that wasn’t supplied by an arsonist?” Hank pressed. Mustachio glowered at him. “We don’t know. The boat, in case you hadn’t noticed, is destroyed. And underwater. So we have no way of knowing what the ignition source was. We have no way of knowing if someone just left a coffee pot on.
