An Inner Fire (5 page)

The receptionist brought him back into the moment. “Dr. Walters may be out of town for part of next week. I’ll call you once I know her schedule.”

Despite her appearance, the receptionist had won over Mitzi. Gentle and cooing in a sweet voice, she bent over the dog. Mitzi gazed back, showing none of her usual indifference.

Mitzi appeared recovered, with no indication of the limp she’d had earlier. The high-strung dog had actually slept during the insertion of the needles and then woke up energized.

He smiled at the receptionist. “Dr. Walters is really good, isn’t she? I mean, amazing with animals.”

The receptionist stared back at him. “Dr. Walters is a gem. She’s giving to everyone.” She leaned closer, her eyes direct. “And rather naive.”

“Excuse me?”

“Dr. Walters trusts everyone.” The receptionist’s red curled lip made it clear that she harbored no such illusions. She raised the eyebrow with the silver ball. “Didn’t you just interview her?”

“Dr. Herrick referred me.” He knew his voice was loud, but he refused to explain himself to an eighteen-year-old who looked like she painted graffiti on abandoned buildings in her spare time. He walked out of the office considering several comebacks. Outside the warehouse, the rain beat obstinately, matching his mood.

A moist nose pressed against his hand. “What?”

The poodle turned and looked back at the building.

“I know…you liked her.”

He hadn’t explained to Grayce how protective Mitzi became when women were around. Or the way she had growled when he arrived with Toni from Ladder 7. Mitzi had ruined his plans for romantic evenings more than once.

“Yeah, me too.” He leaned over to stroke the dog’s head.

It was more than liking; it was a connection, a force. When Grayce had looked into his eyes, he had a sensation of transparency, as if she peered deep into his soul. He’d had the same unfamiliar sensation when she’d gazed at his dad’s picture in his office. She understood his loss; somehow she knew he had suffered when he could do nothing to stop the agonizing progression of his dad’s bone cancer.

Oblivious to the rain, he crossed Fremont Avenue. What had the receptionist said?
Grayce was always taking care of everyone.

She had rushed to the rescue of an injured dog. It wasn’t hard to imagine Grayce Walters consoling anyone in pain. Obviously, the receptionist was one of her charity cases. But who took care of Grayce Walters?

During this visit, like in his office, she had appeared worried. Was her fear more pronounced today or was he more attentive? He had the same gut reaction then. Grayce Walters was hiding something. He didn’t suspect for a minute she was involved with the wharf fire. There was nothing criminal about the sensitive woman.

For the first time in his career, he doubted his ability to be objective about a witness.

* * *

Grayce sat at her desk. Flashes of heat followed by goose bumps galloped through her body. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm herself. A simple explanation for today’s sensations was that she was coming down with the flu, but she knew better. She had absorbed Mitzi’s fear for her owner. She had always been able to sense the energy states of all kinds of creatures, but she had never experienced the transfer of an emotion from an animal for their human owner.

She had felt peril surrounding the lieutenant in his office. Mitzi, his defender, was still fearful and had been injured protecting him. How was she, an animal healer, supposed to help a dog protect her owner? Especially an owner whose job was to apprehend criminals?

Chapter Nine

Davis pulled his jacket collar up to stop the rain from dripping down his neck. He avoided the fire department’s spot and walked across Jackson Street to his own hideout joint. He needed a caffeine fix before heading to Fisherman’s Terminal and some time alone to sort out his impressions of the investigation. In his office, he kept getting distracted by the mental image of a small woman with luminous green eyes and a short skirt.

The funky coffee shop was crowded with tuned out Seattleites pouring over their computers. With the days dark and dreary, the coffee shops filled with people needing caffeine and a connection—that is if you considered sitting by someone while staring at a computer screen a connection. He spotted Niles scrunched in a worn chair in the corner.

“Niles, you hiding out?” Davis asked.

Niles’ head jerked up. The sleepy-eyed look that gave him the appearance of a gentle giant was gone. Instead, a pair of steely gray eyes stared at Davis. “No.”

“I haven’t seen you around the department.” Davis pointed to the adjacent chair. “Do you mind company?”

Niles looked down but not fast enough for Davis to miss the wariness in the chaplain’s eyes. “No, join me.”

“I needed to get out of my office.” Davis sat down on another worn chair. “Take a break from my investigation.” And take a break from his adolescent mooning over Grayce Walters.

“Any leads?”

“None. But I’m still convinced a pro set this fire. In your exit interviews, anyone come to mind that’d be willing to turn for money?”

Niles chuckled, sending ripples through his generous belly. He was the only department member who didn’t pride himself in looking like a professional jock. “I’m counseling these guys about their career and personal mistakes. Do you think they’d share any criminal plans with the chaplain?”

“It would’ve been so easy if someone confessed,” Davis said.

“Even if someone did confess, it would be privileged information. I’m the chaplain after all, but no one has given me any indications they’d set any fires, or were planning to turn to a life of crime.

“I’m not giving up on my theory.”

“That’s what I like about you, Davis. You’re determined.”

“Maclean would call me a stubborn son of a bitch. What am I talking about? Maclean has called me stubborn son of a bitch.” Davis laughed.

Niles nodded but didn’t laugh.

“Sorry for the shop talk. What kept you away from the department?” Davis asked.

“I’ve been busy with family matters.”

“I’ve never heard you talk about your family.” Niles was over sixty and single. The scuttlebutt in the department was that Niles was either divorced or had never recovered from a bitter relationship.

“I didn’t have a family until last week.”

Davis tried to read the inscrutable expression on Niles’ face to see if this was a joke. Niles never clowned around with the guys. He distanced himself from the male crew’s crude jokes.

“How can you have a family and not know it?”

Niles’ face turned crimson. “I have a son.”

“A son?” Davis shifted in his chair. Niles never spoke about himself. He had a way of deflecting anything personal.

Niles slapped his thigh. “Davis, it’s going to be hard to forget the expression on your face.”

“You had a baby? I mean your girlfriend had a baby?”

Niles’ broad smile melded into his dimples. “That’s good, Davis. No, I have an adult son. After my football injury and the end of my prospects of playing pro-ball, I went a little crazy partying, drugs. You know what I’m saying…and there was an exchange student.” Niles shook his head. “She went home and never told me.”

Davis relaxed, leaning back in the leather chair. “How did you find out?”

“My son, Nicholas, contacted me after his mother died.”

Davis noted the warmth in “my son”.

“Nicholas grew up believing his father had died. On her death bed, his mother told Nicholas the truth. Neither of us knew about the other.”

Niles paused and stared at a distant point somewhere in the room. “Nicholas is married and has a six month old son.” Niles’ voice turned incredulous. “I learned I was a father and a grandfather on the same day.”

Davis shut his mouth with a snap when he realized it hung open.

“At first, I just couldn’t believe it. Then I could think of nothing else but getting them out of Russia.”

“Russia?”

“Galina had relatives here. It’s why she came to study in Seattle.” Niles took a large gulp of his coffee. “I hardly gave her another thought after my senior year. What she must have suffered. I’m going to make it up to Nicholas and his family.”

Niles had always been totally devoted to the department. He treated every member as family, and now he had his own. Davis wanted to slap him on the back. “This is great news.”

“It’s going to look a bit irresponsible to have discovered at this late age that I’m a father. Can you put the best spin on the news when it spreads in the department? The crew respects you.”

Davis felt Niles’ intense regard and the emotion underlying his words. He flashed back to two years ago when his dad lay dying, and he spilled his guts to Niles. The chaplain had been there in those long hours.

Davis smiled. “Sure Niles, whatever you need.”

Niles stood up and shook his hand. “I knew I could count on you.”

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

* * *

Leaning into the wind, Davis and Mitzi made their way along the dock. With the big gusts, the dock actually shook. Seattle’s fishing fleet bobbed in the dark grey waters all around them.

Unlike yesterday, no one approached them when they arrived at the wharf. With the gusts blowing at forty miles per hour, the fishermen didn’t appear to be in a convivial mood. Protected by yellow slickers, they worked under tarps, repairing their nets.

He followed Mitzi onto the fishing vessel. “Hey, anyone around?” Davis doubted anyone could hear him over the wind. He spotted a man in a flannel shirt and rubber overalls coming on deck from mid-ship. Davis extended his hand. “I’m Lieutenant Davis from the fire department. I’m investigating the shed fire.”

The older man crossed his arms over his chest. “I recognize you.”

Davis didn’t need investigative skills to know how this was going to play. “I didn’t get to meet anyone yesterday.”

The older man glanced up at the rushing storm clouds overhead.

“I’m looking for Mike. He was on the wharf yesterday when I was talking with the men.”

“What do you want with him?”

“Is he around?”

Mitzi pushed against the calloused man’s hand. The fisherman rubbed the dog’s head but refused to look at Davis.

“Mike’s not here today. Some problem with his car.”

“When do you expect him back?”

“Is he in some kind of trouble?” The man jutted his chin, his shoulders stiffened.

“I just want to ask him a few questions.”

“Mike didn’t start that fire.”

Davis shook his head. “I’m not thinking he did.”

“He’s a good kid.”

“I’m sure he is.”

The big guy stepped closer to Davis. “Mike didn’t start your damn fire. Go harass someone else.”

Davis’ hard wiring for domination surged through his circuits, but he restrained himself from going nose-to-nose with the captain. These fishermen thought they knew something about intimidation. He said, “Just want to tie up a few loose ends.”

The man stood with his legs apart, braced against the rocking of the boat. “He’s family. Everyone on this boat is family. So if you’ve got a problem, I wanna know.”

Davis shrugged. “Look, this is no big deal. If you tell me how to contact him, I’ll get out of your way.”

Mitzi continued to sit next to the captain with her head leaning on his leg.

“He just moved down here from Alaska. He’s been crashing on the boat.”

Davis pulled out his card. “Tell Mike to call me. If he doesn’t, I’ll be back. Pleasure meeting you, too.” Davis heard a grunt when he turned to leave. “Come on Mitzi, we’ve got lots to do.”

Chapter Ten

Grayce quickened her pace through the Friday night party crowd in Belltown. Dinner with her dad had been the perfect antidote for her worry, but spending the latter half of the night with her best friend, James, would make her forget her insane week. She was back in balance, no premonitions about violent men and no nightmares about Lieutenant Davis.

James was seated at a front table at the outside bar separated by a small fence from the sidewalk. He was absorbed in watching the people who paraded in front of him. His eyes glimmered when he spotted her. Standing, he kissed her on both cheeks.

“Darling, you look fabulous.” He gestured with his manicured fingers. “We’re both going to find gorgeous men tonight.”

Grayce grinned at James’ standard Friday night promise. “You always do. I’m not sure I’ll be as lucky.”

“Do you mind sitting outside? I do love watching the boys stroll by.”

She pulled her coat around herself. “As long as I can sit under the heater…this little black dress isn’t that warm.”

He pulled her coat apart. “You wore this delectable creation by Helene for dinner with your dad?”

“I wore it for my two favorite men.”

“How is the old man? Still wanting you to go to med school?”

“James, play nice. I’ve incredible news. You’re going to go crazy.”