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to be devastated. “Have you contacted Jonah’s son in Iraq?”
    “Not yet. I needed to confirm the victim’s identity before notifying any next of kin.”
    Duke jerked his head toward the reporter standing only a few feet away not so discreetly eavesdropping. “Trevor may hear about it sooner in the news. I’ll call him.”
    When Sanger glanced at the reporter, the journalist took it as a sign to approach.
    “Hello, Rich,” Sanger said.
    “I saw the M.E.’s car here. Is there a body?”
    “I’ll be issuing a formal statement after I notify the next of kin.”
    “I heard it’s Jonah Payne.”
    Duke took a step toward the tall, skinny reporter, straightening his spine to reach his full six feet two inches. Through a tight jaw, he said, “I wouldn’t repeat that until it’s publicly announced.”
    Rich took a step back, his hands up, a digital mini-recorder in one hand. “Hey, I’m not an asshole.”
    Sanger coughed into his hand. Duke grabbed the mini-recorder, verified it was off, and took out the batteries before handing them back to the reporter. “I don’t give you permission to record me or quote me. Understand?”
    “It’s cool, dude.” Rich put the recorder in one pocket and took a small spiral notepad from the other. “Lance, come on, give me something. I already saw the graffiti, I know it’s the same group that hit Langlier and Sac State. Is this ELF? ALF? Someone else? What’s going on?”
    “When I know, you’ll know.”
    “I spotted the arson investigator and a couple government cars. Is the FBI here? Have the feds taken over the case?”
    Sanger bristled. A sore spot? Duke had contacts in the local FBI, he’d make inquiries about the other arsons, find out who was running the case. He could help since he had security and background information on all Butcher-Payne employees and vendors.
    “The fire was extinguished less than two hours ago,” Sanger said. “We have a lot of work to do, and until I get answers, I’m not going on record with anything.”
    Rich sighed, shoving his notebook into his jacket pocket. “Okay, okay, off-record. Is it Jonah Payne? Did he die in the fire?”
    Sanger relented. “We have every reason to believe the victim is Jonah Payne, but we do not have confirmation and until we do, if I hear this in public I will make sure you are banned from every crime scene in Placer County as long as I’m sheriff.”
    “I’m not going to say anything. I swear, Lance, trust me.”
    Sanger simply shook his head.
    Rich looked at Duke and tilted his chin up. “I know you.”
    “I don’t know you.”
    “Rich Belham, from the
Bee.”
    He was waiting for an introduction, but Duke didn’t respond.
    “Rogan!” Rich snapped his fingers when the name came to him. “Rogan-Caruso! Private security, right? You take care of the rich and famous.”
    Duke tensed. Rogan-Caruso Protective Services handled a wide range of personal and corporate security issues, but inevitably the few high-profile clients they managed became the news. But he wasn’t about to get in a discussion about his company with a nosy reporter.
    “Are you in charge of security here? How did the arsonists get in? Did they hack into your system?”
    The silence was palpable. The reporter had hit the target dead center, and he knew it. Duke said, “I will be investigating the matter thoroughly and reporting my findings to law enforcement. What they do with the information is up to them.”
    Rich turned to Sanger. “I heard the FBI was talking to Professor Cole at the college.”
    Sanger’s hands twitched, his jaw tightening so hard Duke heard the joints click. “No comment.”
    “Come on, you’ve been talking about Cole since the first arson. That he was instigating a riot. You arrested him for breaking into the courthouse three years ago and stealing the confidential settlement between the county and EnviroTech Supply.”
    Duke remembered that controversy. The county was going after EnviroTech for