Diana (9 page)

"May I suggest that we all put whatever crap is going on between us behind us, and try to find out who is responsible?” Jerry said.

Luke stared at Diana, and she refused to back down.

"If you're done, Fontella, I'd like a few minutes in here."

"It's all yours, Pellino.” Luke gathered his things and headed toward the door.

Diana slowly walked around the apartment. It had been late in the evening when the first call about the fire came into the department. The patrol officers had canvassed the neighborhood and most of the tenants. A few people had seen Lee arrive downstairs in the lobby around 12:30 a.m.

It was a little after 5:30 a.m. now, and the sun was rising. She looked at the window, noting the small bits and pieces of melted metal on the floor. The hard wood was burned to black and gray.

Her attention was drawn toward the center of the room where the bed once stood. Now, only the metal bed frame sat broken and blackened. The frame was a small mound of ash. Both she and Fontella had forensics take samples. That was the source of the fire, she was sure of it.

Diana bent down lower to take a look. It appeared as if the fire may have begun right there, or their suspect wanted it to look that way. The burns to the flooring seemed deeper, and some sort of material sat melted to the floor. Something caught her eye next to the left, metal leg of the bed frame. It was metallic, thin, and somewhat mangled from the fire.

"What do ya got?” One of the forensic technicians re-entered the room.

Diana looked up. “I thought you guys were finished."

"Come on, Pellino. I've been around a while and I know how you operate. You don't leave anything unchecked."

"I'm not sure what this is. Maybe the fire marshal missed it?"

"I'm not positive. He was pretty thorough, even though his attitude sucked."

Diana smiled. “Could ya?"

"I'm on it. Let me grab my bag."

She didn't like the feeling she had inside. Also, she didn't like the fact their killer was leaving messages after the crime, nor that the media was involved. People who committed crimes like this and notified the police were usually after attention. The media played into the killer's demands, and the best way to stop him was to stay silent.

She had to clear things up with the fire marshal, despite his ability to get under her skin. After all, he was her boss's son, her brother Brian's friend, and he was obviously assigned to this case. She and Jerry were the lead detectives and they needed Luke's help. Especially since their killer decided to torch this latest victim.

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Diana and Jerry made their way back to the precinct. She finally convinced Jerry she wasn't involved with Commander Fontella, and told him the whole story. He laughed at her.

"You got the worst luck and, to top it off, all you were doing was a good deed for the old lady."

She shook her head, then took a deep breath as they exited the car and entered the precinct.

A couple of conversations stopped when they entered their office on the third floor. She tried to ignore it, until the commander opened his door.

"Pellino! My office, now."

Her patience diminished. Didn't her commander realize what rumor was going around?

"Montoff, give us five minutes, then come in,” the commander ordered.

Diana cringed as she locked gazes with Jerry, who smirked in return. She headed toward the commander's office. He leaned against his desk waiting for her. She heard kissing noises behind her, and a group of detectives giggled like eight-year-old boys.

Diana flipped them the bird and a look that made their smirks disappear. She closed the door behind her.

"Before we discuss this latest victim and the case, I need to apologize. It has come to my attention that a certain rumor is traveling around the department."

Her mouth dropped open. She was about to speak, but the commander continued talking. “I was approached by the brass, and I straightened things out. I've been around here for more than fifteen years. That should count for something. I'm sorry I placed you in this position. I can see that the others are running with this. I'll try to do what I can to stop it."

"I can handle them, sir. But this case ... Your son is the fire marshal assigned to the case."

"I know.” The commander shook his head and sighed.

"I talked to him. Well, I left him a message, actually."

"He's mad as hell. Can't you get a different fire inspector to work this case?"

"No way! They're all overworked as is, so forget about requests."

Jerry knocked on the door, entering just as the commander's phone rang. He answered it while Jerry gave Diana a sideways glance. She looked toward the office. No one seemed to be paying any attention to her now.

"Damn it!"

The commander abruptly slammed the receiver down onto the base. He grabbed a remote control off his desk and turned on the overhead twenty-inch television set.

"Apparently, every news channel is covering your little fire and homicide."

"Oh, shoot,” Jerry said, as they watched the television screen.

A reporter gave an update on the tenants and their need for shelter. Then she spoke about the homicide.

"
Our sources deep inside the police department tell us that there is a killer on the loose. The individual responsible for this fire and the death of one young woman, whose name has not been revealed, is also responsible for the park murder. We were unable to get any official statement from the department or those assigned to the case.
"

The commander turned off the television set and looked at Diana and Jerry. “You guys are going to need Luke. He is one of the best."

"I hope you're right, sir.” She could hear the uncertainty in her tone.

She and Jerry exited the office.

Luke tossed and turned in bed. His dreams were inundated with fire, death, revenge, and lost comrades. He reached out, attempting to grab Stewart Howard before he escaped again. As he grabbed him by the shoulder, Stewart turned toward him. Luke saw Brian Pellino's face instead of Stewart.

He awoke in a cold sweat. He sat up in bed, practically gasping for air, then reached to the bedside table for a sip of water. His hands shook as he reached for the half empty glass, and he knocked it onto the floor.

"Shit!"

He jumped out of bed. His feet landed right in the puddle of spilled water.

"Damn it to hell!"

The phone by his bedside table rang. His head felt ready to burst, and his temper flared.

"What,” he yelled into the receiver, as he ran his other hand through his hair.

"We need to talk.” His father's voice echoed through the line and into Luke's ear.

"What?” He grabbed his dirty T-shirt he wore yesterday and wiped his wet feet. Luke lost his balance and fell onto the bed, dropping the phone in the process. Quickly, he grabbed the receiver as it hung from the short chord, lightly tapping against the bedside table.

"What the hell was that? Is everything all right?"

"What do you want?” Luke said.

"We need to talk about this case. I've already spoken with Detective Pellino."

"After breakfast in bed?” he said sarcastically, feeling sick to his stomach. Thoughts of Detective Diana Pellino cluttered his mind from the time she entered the crime scene until he passed out from exhaustion.

"Stop it, Luke. There is absolutely nothing going on between Detective Pellino and myself. She could be my daughter for Christ's sake."

"That's never stopped you before, Dad.” The pounding in his head increased with every word he spoke.

"I'm not involved with Diana. You need to call her and her partner, and stop ignoring her phone calls immediately. This is a serious matter. We don't need the controversy, considering how intense the media is on accusing us of not doing our job."

"I'm doing my job."

"Not if you're not working with Diana and her partner. They've been trying to reach you for days. We need to find our suspect."

"That's exactly what I am doing."

"Call her, Luke."

"I gotta go. I've got a heavy caseload."

Luke hung up the phone and headed to the shower. He couldn't help but wonder whether his father was telling the truth about not being involved with Diana. He heard from one of the guys who worked in the same department under his father's command that the affair was just a rumor. Apparently, someone was interested in his dad, and his dad had yet to reciprocate the feelings. Still, he couldn't help but question his intentions. After all, Luke had seen for himself what Diana Pellino looked like.

He sighed, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He was a big guy, at over 6 ft 3 in. His call sign in the department was Hulk. His abs stayed solid as ever, his muscles bulging and defined, although he wasn't as physically active as he wished he could be.

He rubbed his hands over the whiskers on his cheeks. He was in need of a shave. Thank God he didn't look as bad as he felt. He knew he was a strong person, both body and mind, but he tended to be critical of his physical appearance. He wasn't getting any younger and the stress, never mind the anger he held inside, was obviously taking their toll.

He stretched his fingers, spreading them out, then crunched them into fists and felt the tightness and heard the cracks. His fingers and hands stayed muscular despite the fact he no longer fought fires head on.

He missed fighting fires. That's what really kept him in great physical condition.

His mind traveled back to his dream. It was more like a nightmare. What was the meaning behind seeing Brian's face instead of Stewart Howard's? He shook his head in confusion and attempted to analyze the dream anyway, noting the significance of seeing Brian. Where had that stemmed from?

"Diana Pellino."

Luke rubbed his eyes, but visions of Diana filled his head despite his attempt to fight it. What was it about that woman, aside from the physical? He thought about her cocky attitude, and the way her dress slacks clung snugly against her hips and thighs. Her dark colored eyes and full lips. She was a sight all right, and under normal circumstances, he'd jump at the opportunity to work with any female detective who looked like Pellino.

His dad had good taste, and he questioned his father's earlier statement, condoning any inappropriate relationship.

Luke had to get his head out of the past and focus on what he needed and wanted in life. He had been playing it safe for too long. The changes had already begun, and it was invigorating to know he could take chances and perhaps live a little dangerously if the situation arose.

With positive thoughts, he applied the white shaving foam to his face and began his day.

Diana called the firehouse before she stopped in. She wanted to be sure her brother Brian was working. After receiving no response from Fire Marshal Luke Fontella, she was furious.

Who the hell did this guy think he was, anyhow? If anyone asked her opinion, she would be sure to tell them how immature Mr. Fire Marshal acted. She was relieved that her fellow detectives in her office believed nothing went on between her and the commander.

Diana actually found out the chief's daughter, Leslie Spencer, spread the gossip. She also found out Leslie had a thing for the commander.

Just her luck. She'd avoided this type of conflict most of her life, and especially since entering the police academy. She sure as hell wasn't going to stoop to such a sophomoric level, no matter how annoyed she was.

She confirmed her brother was working at the firehouse and she parked her car.

She saw her cousin Don working on the side of the fire truck. He was submerged in whatever he was doing and hadn't even noticed her. She decided to say hello later. Right now, she needed to speak with her brother.

Brian greeted her by the garage bay doors with a smile, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure, sis?” The sarcasm was apparent in his tone.

"I need a favor."

"Oh, really? This might cost ya."

"I don't think so, bro. You see, you still owe me for not ratting you out this winter when you headed to Vegas and nearly married that two-timing slut Gloria whatever her name was."

"Oh, shit! You gonna hold that over my head forever?” Brian slapped his hands against each thigh and turned his head from her before carefully peeking back.

Diana grinned wide. “If I need to."

"What's the favor?"

"I was wondering if you could tell me where Luke Fontella lives."

Her brother glared at her.

"What?” she asked.

"Listen, Dad may not feel comfortable enough about speaking to you, but I don't have a problem at all.” He looked around to be sure they were alone and no one was in earshot. “Do you really think it's a good idea to, number one, be involved with your boss and number two, a man as old as Dad?"

Diana felt the color leave her face, and there was no stopping her mouth from dropping open. “What?” She tried to act unknowing but failed.

"Nothing is going on between me and the commander. It was all a misunderstanding, with a little added help from some gossiping, two-bit, jealous woman."

Brian gazed into her eyes, as if questioning her response.

"I mean it. Nothing is going on."

"Why do you need to know where Luke lives?"

"He is the fire marshal assigned to my homicide case, and he's avoiding me. Obviously, he thinks the rumors are true. I need to straighten things out, so I can work this homicide and find the killer. Please, Brian, I need to talk to Luke."

He was obviously hesitant.

"You sure nothing is going on between you and the commander? Because I'll tell ya right now, sis, you're making a big mistake."

"Brian.” Diana touched her brother's forearm and took a step closer. “I swear to you that nothing is going on. I may be a bit of a hot head sometimes, but I'm not stupid. This is all a misunderstanding. I need to talk with Luke, straighten things out, and move on with my job. There's a damn killer loose out there, and now the media is on top of the story. The department can't afford a screw up, and they sure as hell don't need a scandal."