Firefly Mountain (17 page)

“I’m trusting a guy who dragged me out of a burning barn. I don’t need to know another thing about you to know you can be trusted with my baby. There’s an extra key in my locker at the station. Combination seven-twenty-twelve.”

“Okay. I’m working until three. I’ll drive her over after that.” A little jolt of anticipation zipped through Patrick. Perhaps he could work out some of his…frustrations…driving Jonah’s Mustang. It was worth a try.

He scribbled down directions to Jonah’s house and hung up. Grabbing the Meadow Cliff folder and the evidence he’d gathered at that barn last night, Patrick summoned Midas and headed for his truck. A couple of hours at the station ought to get his head back on straight. He’d focus on his incident report or whatever Chief Warner wanted him to do around the station. Get his mind off maple walnut ice cream and kissing on swings.

****

“Did you know that Jonah snores?” Haddy asked.

“Yes.” Gini cut up the sandwiches her mother had sent from the bakery.

“Isn’t it adorable?” Haddy giggled as she grabbed some plates from the cupboard.

“Not when you’re fifteen and have to share a bed with him while on family vacation in Hawaii.”

Gini remembered wanting to suffocate Jonah with her pillow as he sucked in air and let it out like a monster truck revving its engine. She had begged her parents for a separate bed, preferably in another room, but they’d said it was too expensive. That she ought to consider herself lucky she was in Hawaii. They’d had to wait until they were in their forties to go somewhere exotic and here she was, enjoying the sunshine and beaches, at age fifteen. She’d grumbled about the injustice of having to sleep with one’s brother—how it would scar her fragile adolescent mind—but in the end, she had been thankful. Good thing too, for it was the last family vacation the Claremonts ever went on. Two years later, Gini had set Cameron’s car on fire and everyone thought it best to stay local. The farthest she’d been was to Rhode Island for college, and even that had been a risk her family hadn’t wanted to take. She’d had to beg and plead, without getting angry, of course, and finally Gini’s mother had convinced her father that they had to let her live her life, had to let her go. When Gini returned to Vermont after graduating, her parents’ sighs of relief had echoed throughout the mountains.

“Well,” Haddy said, “I think it’s adorable. He’s like a purring tiger.”

“I would have said a roaring jet, but okay.” Gini pushed a sandwich toward Haddy and looked around Jonah’s small kitchen. His usual clutter was gone, and she hadn’t once felt crumbs under her bare feet on the floor since she’d been there. “Did you clean in here?”

Haddy swiveled on the bar stool behind the island and nodded. “Uh-huh. I like Jonah and all, but I was not staying here in his filth.”

Gini barked out a laugh and looked at her friend’s glowing face. Haddy had never looked happier. Would she ever be that happy? Truly happy and not a happy she had to paint on each day? “You’re what Jonah needs, Haddy.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” Jonah leaned in the doorway of the kitchen. His hair was a mess, and his eyes looked a little puffy. The gray sweat shorts and T-shirt he wore had seen better days, and he cradled his right arm in the sling bound to his torso.

Gini zeroed in on the tiny crease between her brother’s brows and knew he was in more pain than he would ever complain about. “Just in time for lunch,” she said. “Come sit.”

Haddy popped up from her seat and slid out a chair at the kitchen table for him. He eased into it, a quiet groan escaping his lips as he lowered. Haddy dropped a kiss on his cheek and finger-combed his hair back. Another sound, quite contrary to pain, buzzed out of him, and Haddy laughed.

“How do you feel?” she asked as she stood behind him.

He leaned his head back so it rested on her stomach. “Like if I had two working hands, they’d be all over you.”

Haddy bent and teased Jonah’s mouth with hers. Gini looked away and concentrated on her sandwich. Thoughts of Patrick, not erased from her memory anyway, crept to the forefront. She took a long swig of her iced tea, hoping to wash away Patrick’s image, but knowing it was an impossible task.

The doorbell sounded, and Gini took that as her chance to get away from Haddy and Jonah’s sappy cuteness. When she opened the door, Mason stepped inside.

“Hi, Gini. Came to check on the boy.”

“He’s in the kitchen getting fondled by Haddy.”

Mason stopped just shy of the kitchen. “Should I leave?”

“Yes, and take me with you.” Gini pushed Mason so he stumbled into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mason,” Jonah said. “Sit. Have a sandwich.”

“From your mom’s?” Mason eyed the sandwiches.

“Only the best at Chez Claremont.” Jonah arced his good arm out.

Mason sat and accepted the plate Gini gave him. “Thanks.” He bit into the sandwich and rolled his eyes. After chewing and swallowing, he sighed. “If your mother wasn’t your mother, I’d kidnap her and ask her to make me sandwiches for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe Raina makes good sandwiches,” Jonah said.

“Yeah, how was your date with her?” Haddy asked.

“She makes me dizzy.”

Mason had a dreamy look on his face that made him look boyishly handsome. Not at all like Patrick. Nothing boyish about Patrick, Gini thought. He was all man, right down to the core. Grown-up and sexier than anyone she’d ever met. Quiet, solemn, holding back part of himself from the world. She wanted to know everything about him.

She ran her index finger along her bottom lip as she pictured Patrick on her swing last night. What would have happened if Jonah hadn’t called? Would she have invited Patrick to stay? Would he have accepted the invitation?

Probably not. He wasn’t ready to be that comfortable with her, and she wasn’t ready to test her control on her emotions. She would never forgive herself if things got out of hand, and she accidentally hurt Patrick with what she could do. She would not be responsible for another Cameron, although Gini highly doubted Patrick would force himself on her. Not his style.

Then again, she hadn’t thought force was Cameron’s style either. But what did she know? She had been a silly girl, mistaking physical interest and hormones for love.

“Right, Gini?”

“What?” Gini hadn’t caught any of the table conversation.

“I said you were with Patrick last night,” Jonah said.

Gini looked up to see three sets of curious eyes on her. “I was.”

They waited, watched. Gini grew hot under her tank top and shorts. Even her bare toes sweated.

“That’s it?” Haddy asked. “That’s all you’re giving us?”

“That’s all I have to give you.” Gini shrugged and finished her iced tea.

“No,” Mason said. “There has to be more.”

“Has to be,” Jonah agreed.

“He cooked me dinner while I developed the Meadow Cliff photos. That’s it.” Gini studied the crumbs on her plate. She would not look up. She would not look up so they could see there was more.

“The Meadow Cliff photos are done?” Mason asked.

Gini exhaled, relieved Mason had a work-centered brain. Bless him. “Yes. I gave a copy to Patrick and have a set for you in my purse.” She got up, thankful for the diversion, and retrieved the photos. “Here you go.” She placed them on the table and Mason grabbed them.

“Anything of interest?” He opened the envelope and slid his sandwich out of the way.

“Another candle, right,” Gini waited for Mason to flip to the correct photo, “there.” She pointed to the pale green wax blob. “Patrick bagged it. Said Midas found a gasoline trail too.”

Mason nodded. “Same as the Cloudson Drive house.” He stood. “I’ve got to talk to Patrick.”

“He’s at the station,” Jonah said. “Then he’s bringing my car by.”

Mason stopped shuffling through the photos. “You’re letting Patrick drive the Mustang?” His left eye squinted shut.

“Mason,” Jonah said. “You’re my best friend, you know that, right?”

“Thought I did,” Mason said.

“Okay, so I’ll be honest with you.” Jonah rubbed his temple as if it caused him physical pain to say whatever he was about to say. “I don’t think you can handle the ’Stang. You hit curbs and squirrels as if they’re targets in a video game, as if you’re aiming for them, bro. Every drive is like a chase after the bad guys.”

The corners of Mason’s mouth turned up into a grin. “You’re afraid the ’Stang can’t handle
me
. That pretty boy car wouldn’t stand a chance in pursuit.”

“I’ll let that one go, Mason, only because I can’t kick your ass right now.” Jonah looked over to his arm and shoulder. “But the next comment like that, and you are going down, my friend.”

“You can try, Jonah.” Mason tapped Jonah on his good shoulder and nodded to Gini and Haddy. “Good luck tolerating him, Haddy.” He waved the envelope of photos. “Gini, thanks for these. I’ll talk to you later.” As he turned to leave, he scanned the kitchen. “Did someone clean in here?”

“Haddy did. C’mon, I’ll walk you out.” Gini grabbed her purse and leaned down to Jonah. “Get some rest and stay out of trouble, huh?” She kissed his cheek.

“What fun would that be?” Jonah raised an eyebrow and laughed when Gini rolled her eyes.

“See you tomorrow, Haddy. We have ourselves a lot of work to do with that calendar.” Gini clapped her hands together.

“You have to love it when your boss considers combing through pictures of hot firefighters ‘work.’ Such a pleasant job I have.” Haddy put one hand to her chest and fanned herself with the other.

“Don’t comb too closely,” Jonah said.

“I wouldn’t worry, Jonah,” Gini said. “I’ll put Haddy in charge of combing through your shots.”

“Goody.” Haddy stood behind Jonah now, her hands resting on the chair back. She had that woman-of-the-house look about her.

“Guess we’ll have to double up on someone’s photo or do a group shot for the last month.” Gini sighed.

“No luck getting Patrick’s picture?” Jonah asked.

Gini shook her head. “I decided not to push it.”

“Boy, he’s gotten to you, hasn’t he?” Haddy asked.

“What do you mean?” Gini moved her purse to her other shoulder and wrung the straps in her hands.

“It’s not like you to admit defeat,” Jonah said.

“It’s not defeat,” Gini said. “It’s a change of plans. No big deal.”

“Then why are you strangling your purse right now?” Mason asked as he ran for the door to avoid the smack Gini was fixing to give him.

After Mason was gone, Gini let out a breath and dropped her hands to her sides.

“I’m going now too. Good-bye.”

Jonah and Haddy gave her a wave.

“No big deal,” she told herself again once she was outside and getting into her SUV. So what if she was wondering what Patrick was doing right now. So what if she was picturing him driving Jonah’s pretty boy Mustang through the dusty streets of Burnam.

So what if all she could think about was having him naked beside her.

No big deal.

Patrick finished washing the fire trucks with two other fighters then took his Meadow Creek and Cloudson Drive file folders to the station’s classroom. Chief Warner had made the arson cases Patrick’s top priority after making sure he didn’t escape the “new guy” jobs like truck washing, of course. Patrick didn’t mind those tasks, though. Like cleaning, he found manual labor meditative, purifying. Lord knew he needed some purifying. The thoughts cycling through his head about Gini were certainly less than pure. He’d figured once he’d gotten to work, the memory of kissing her would fade into the background. Sitting in the quiet of the classroom now, he knew that was not going to happen.

One taste of her and he was hooked. At least every third thought that flitted into his brain was of Gini.

“Pathetic,” he said.

“Yes, a man talking to himself is extremely pathetic,” a voice said behind him.

Patrick turned to find Mason in the doorway. “Oh, hey. I was looking over these photos.”

Mason sat in the seat next to Patrick and plopped his own set of photos down on the table. “Gini just gave me these. So our arsonist fancies candles. That’s about all we know, huh?”

Patrick nodded. “We have no clue where he or she will target next.”

“I hate when the bad guys are a step ahead,” Mason said. “Pisses me off.”

“Me, too.” Patrick fanned several photos out on the table. “Did you get the evidence I dropped off?”

Mason pulled the evidence bag out of his pocket and put it on the table. “My men missed the candles at both scenes. How is that possible?”

“They both look like globs of debris. Easy to miss. The first one I found by accident. This one I’d been looking for.” Patrick gestured toward the green candle remains. “This one has a scent too.” He opened the bag, and Mason held it under his nose.

“I got a whiff of it earlier but can’t identify it.”

“Gini thinks it’s chamomile.”

“I’ll take her word for it,” Mason said. “She would know.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Gini grows all sorts of herbs and flowers to use in her potions.” Mason zipped the evidence bag closed.

“Potions?” Was Gini involved in witchcraft? Patrick thought back to the bush in front of the fire department the first time he met Gini. Had she done a spell or something to set it on fire? He pushed the notion out of his head. He didn’t believe in magic. People didn’t set things on fire by just thinking of it. Thank God.

“Yeah, you know, teas, potpourris, oils, shampoos, whatever,” Mason said. “I call them potions because I saw her mixing one up once. She was in her herb garden behind the east field on her farm. She had this enormous cast iron pot that looked like a cauldron over a portable burner. Puffy, white steam surrounded her, and all she needed was a black pointed hat and a wart on her nose. I swear I heard her cackle while she stirred the bubbling concoction.” Mason laughed. “Saw her make maple syrup once too. Looked like a witch then as well.”

Patrick tried to picture Gini dressed as an ugly witch, but his mind kept conjuring one hell of a sexy witch. He shook his head and focused on the photos in front of him.

“So we’re looking for someone with an affinity for candles, access to gasoline, knowledge of herbs, and a desire to see things burn.” Patrick jotted all of these notes on a piece of paper in the Meadow Cliff folder.