Burn Burn Burn Who: Jack and Mickey Where: Maggie's House When: late
Mickey left the bar with a smile, thinking that it was nice to have such a light conversation with someone. Sure, it wasn’t going to go anywhere. Odds were that he wouldn’t even be able to manage something like he had with Eily again, but it was nice to talk to her. It made him feel a little better. Less cold than his conversation with December. He was forcing himself to think on just Eily, that cheery smile, at least until the smell of burning caught his attention. He turned twice, seeing smoke coming from more than one direction, but one in particular caught his attention. “Maggie.” He knew where her house was and he saw the smoke. Grateful for the bike he pushed himself that way, as fast as he could, pulling up short at the sight of her house and yard on fire.
Jack was already there, staring at the flames as he tried to sort everything out in his head – but with the fire blazing, it was pretty much impossible to sort anything. His senses were overloaded to an extreme, which wasn't helped by the fact that he wasn't even sure if she was in there. He'd tried to get in, but it was too far gone before he'd arrived in the first place.
It took a moment before Mickey realized someone else was there, too caught up in the sight of the flames, raging despite the weather. When he did realize Jack was there he hurried to the other man’s side. “Tell me she’s not in there.” Though if she wasn’t and she wasn’t out here, Mickey wasn’t sure where she was.
Jack hadn't noticed Mickey in the slightest, unable to take his eyes off the flames. “...I don't know,” he answered. He was pretty desperately hoping she wasn't. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, shaking his head. “She better not be.” The idea made him feel a little sick to his stomach. Maggie was a good girl. She had that innocent factor that he liked so much, and he very genuinely liked her. He didn't give that much of a damn about many people, but she made that list, and so it was unacceptable that she'd died in some raging fucking inferno.
That wasn’t a good answer. Mickey looked around, thinking maybe she’d just be there, staring at the flame like Jack was, but she wasn’t. “Can we...go in and check?” He wasn’t very fast, but he might be fast enough to look for her, get her out if they could.
“Already tried,” Jack said. “I couldn't get far. I didn't see her. I couldn't see her through any of the windows. So, I hope to hell she isn't in there, but...” he couldn't be positive.
Mickey looked around them, then frowned. “But if she’s not in there…why isn’t she out here? And why’s the grass on fire?” It didn’t look right. None of it did. Something even felt wrong, though that might have a been a sinking fear that Maggie was burning up in her house.
Jack walked over to where the grass was on fire, trying to sort smells out again. And he did think he smelled something...chemical. He couldn't place it, exactly, but it was out of place, that was for damn sure. Frowning, he looked around the area, for other signs of anything abnormal.
Mickey watched the other man, one eyebrow raised, trying to sort out what he was thinking without getting much from him. “What’s wrong?” Something had to be with that face and the way he was looking around more.
“Something isn't right,” Jack said. “I can smell chemicals.” He looked toward the house again, trying very hard to follow that astringent sort of smell. “...I'm thinking this was set, deliberately. This wasn't an accident.”
“Shit,” Mickey swore, looking around. That made sense. Why wouldn’t Maggie be out here. Looking back at the house, it wasn’t burning right. One side should be more burnt than another if the house had caught fire because of an accident. Logic explained that. “Why set someone’s house on fire?”
Jack had an answer for that in what was probably a creepy amount of time. “...to kill someone, to get someone to come outside, or to get rid of evidence.” He didn't like any answer. He swore softly under his breath, and called Maggie's phone for the sixth time. And for the sixth time, it went straight to voicemail.
Mickey definitely thought that was creepy and the look he shot Jack showed it. It didn’t last long though as something else dawned on him. “To get someone to come outside...because you can’t go in. Shit.” He didn’t hesitate, heading back to his bike to get on it, pulling out his phone to answer a text he’d ignored. He’d read it in passing, but hadn’t answered. He wasn’t sure if he was even supposed to answer, but now he was.
Mind spinning on just how bad this was, Jack glanced back at Mickey, to see what he was doing. “If you're calling her, it goes straight to voicemail.”
“I’m not, but that’s not good. Unless her phone’s in there,” Mickey said nodding towards the house. “I’m letting December know I’m going looking for Maggie.” Because the chances that something smoked her out was looking all too possible at this point.
Jack nodded, looking back to the fire. He'd gotten a text from December too, and he was planning on doing patrols and checking out scent trails, but this took precedence. He also needed to text his sister. Make sure she didn't go anywhere tonight. Maybe she could stay in with her new boytoy. Her having a werewolf around couldn't hurt. He shot off a text to Lily, then looked at Mickey. “I'm going to do my own search too. Keep me posted if you find anything. I'll do the same,” he said.
Mickey nodded after pocketing his phone. “Will do,” he agreed. He’d keep anyone in the loop. “Be careful out there.” He got on his bike properly and started back towards his house. He was going out, but he needed to be armed with something more than his tools.