Playing with Fire (4 page)

“Yeah.” His brow furrowed in confusion.

“Just try.” She smiled and stood, placing her
cup in the sink. “I made the coffee. You do the dishes.”

Liberty left him at the table and left the
house cautiously optimistic. Optimistic that she could lull the
captain to sleep. Cautious that she just might curl up beside him
and give him some really sweet dreams.

He stood in the middle of the room,
mesmerized as the flames danced along the path of the acetone,
across the floor, and up the walls in three different
directions.

“
Burn, baby, burn.”

He shook himself from her soothing trance. He
couldn’t stay inside any longer to enjoy her beauty. The smoke was
beginning to seep into his pores and the smell would attract
attention.

He quickly ran out the back door and put on
his jacket. He went down the alley past three buildings before he
returned to the burning structure and camouflaged himself with the
crowd gathered there.

Sirens wailed in the heated atmosphere and
the bystanders grew more curious. The crotch of his pants tightened
as his usual hard-on swelled. He shifted to tamper his excitement.
This was all her fault. His beloved wife was dead and she would
pay
.

The charred remains of Cuppa Joe’s laughed
hysterically as Shane and Dylan searched for some small clue to
lead them in the right direction. Tediously sifting through the
piles of ash left by the fire wasn’t helping much.

“Just something,” Shane mumbled.
“Anything.”

He swiped his hand across his brow. Although
the crowded coffee house was usually hot, the fire heightened the
temperature. And this summer’s unusual heatwave made it
unbearable.

Ready to call it a day, he waved his
flashlight across the counter one more time, curious when the beam
crossed something shiny buried in a pile of ash.

“Carmichael! Over here.”

Dylan quickly closed the distance between
them.

Shane shook the dust from the shiny object
and uncovered a slightly blackened, empty acetone can. “Think we’ll
get lucky enough to get prints off this?”

“Probably not.” Dylan bagged the evidence.
“But we can always hope.”

Shane took another quick look around. “This
is a pretty small crime scene. We’ve been looking for hours now. I
think we’re pretty much done.”

“Yeah. Let’s wrap it up and get our evidence
back to the lab. I need to get home before dark.”

“Maddie?”

Dylan nodded. “She’s making progress. I’m
helping as much as I can.”

“Does she stay alone yet?”

Dylan loaded the evidence into the truck
while Shane climbed into the driver’s seat. “When I’m on call,” he
said as he slid into the passenger seat. “Eventually she’s going to
work up to being alone more, but right now Liberty recommends we
make new memories in the dark to take the place of the bad ones.
It’s been really fun too. You wouldn’t believe what she gave us to
play with.”

Shane wrinkled his nose. Any other time he
might have listened, but Maddie was the sister he never had and
hearing that about her was just .... wrong. “Too much information,
Carmichael.”

“Don’t worry, Hartwell. I won’t share
anything else.”

“Let’s just change the subject.”

Dylan chuckled. “Good idea.”

“We have a serial arsonist. And, whoever it
is killed Zach.” Shane couldn’t disguise the anguish in his
voice.

“It’s too soon to tell. You know that. We
have to stay detached.”

“Yeah, I know, but we’re talking about
Zach.”

Dylan shoved his hands in his pockets, his
shoulders hunched with the same nauseating, sinking despair.
“Damn,” he mumbled

Shane knew his friend’s thoughts turned to a
cherished cigarette he kept in his pocket. “Don’t do it.” He handed
Dylan a coveted Fireball. “You promised Maddie.” He parked the
truck and gathered the evidence. “I’ll take care of this. You go
home to your wife.”

“Did you call Liberty?”

He nodded. “We’re meeting in a couple
days.”

“Keep your hands to yourself.” Dylan climbed
into his truck.

He gave his best friend a grin. “I don’t make
promises I can’t keep. Give Maddie a hug for me.”

Shane chuckled as he drove home. A promise of
that caliber was totally impossible. Keeping his hands to himself
was the last thing he wanted to do around Liberty. Her spirit
called to him and tickled his libido with sensual promises. He
shifted to accommodate his now interested hard-on when he stepped
out of the truck. Maybe the good doctor had already given him
something to help him sleep; wet dreams were much better than
nightmares.

He went inside the house, encouraged that
sleep would be peaceful this time. He tugged his t-shirt over his
head and loosened the buttons of his jeans, his trusty erection
peeking out of the waistband.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “she’s not here and I’m
just too damn tired.”

Black smoke. Something is burning hot. Can
you smell anything? Gasoline? Wood? Anything? If I knew what was
burning, I could be better prepared.

Damn, it’s dark in here. Am I close?

I hear beeping. Or are my ears ringing? No,
it’s somebody’s PASS.

Zach, is that you ringing? Zach, are you
down?

Hold on, I’m coming for you. Shit,
something’s burning in my path. I can’t get past.

Zach?... Zach? ZACH!

Shane’s eyes flew open as he kicked moist
tangled sheets from his body. His blood sped through his veins. His
heart threatened to explode with the force of its beat. He lay
motionless until his vision cleared and the ceiling fan over the
bed cooled his heated skin.

He threw both arms across his forehead and
seriously considered crying like a baby. Maybe evil would show
compassion. Breathing deeply, he glanced at the clock. Three
fifteen a.m. Of course.

He had half a mind to call Liberty just to
tell her what he thought of her psychological mumbo jumbo. He nixed
that thought. She’d see right through him.

Once his breathing leveled, he crawled out of
bed and into the shower. He turned the brass knobs all the way to
the right and scoffed at the tepid water. Freezing just wasn’t
going to happen this time.

Hell
.

He banged his fist against the tile. Was this
the life he’d been reduced to? Miserable because of some sick
bastard who loved to play with fire? He swallowed the despair in
his throat and again throttled the recurrent urge to summon
Liberty. Water or tears, didn’t matter which, clouded his vision.
He couldn’t open himself to her this way. Needy. Tormented.
Weak.

Dragging a warm towel across his body, he
stepped from the shower into a pair of boxers and ambled to the
living room to seek solace the only way he knew. He spread out on
the sofa and flipped through television channels. It wasn’t until
he heard good ole Fred Flintstone’s voice that he began to
relax.

The next morning, Shane crept into the
station before noon and hoped to hell everyone was occupied enough
not to miss him.

“You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” Dylan
stepped from behind the engine in the middle bay.

He shook his head and didn’t bother to deny
the obvious.

“Have you talked to Liberty yet?”

He had to give his friend credit for
persistence. “Unless she sings me lullabies, she can’t help.”

“You haven’t tried.”

“Believe me, she will have to climb inside my
head and kick my brain into submission.”

Dylan snickered. “Go home and sleep. Maddie
expects your best tonight.”

He winced. The bachelor auction to benefit
the burn unit at Primrose General Hospital. “I’ll be there.”

“Maybe you won’t have to service Misty
Campbell’s car without your shirt this year.”

He grinned. Since Misty bid three thousand
dollars, he serviced that car alright, then he went above and
beyond to give its owner a one-hundred-point inspection.

“Misty got married and moved to California,
Carmichael.”

“I’m sure someone will take advantage of her
loss. Just don’t be late.”

“Does Dr. Prescott bid?”

Dylan chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry,
she usually just writes Maddie a check.”

Suddenly, he wasn’t so excited about
participating. What used to be a fun, harmless competition between
them had changed to more of a duty after Zach’s death. He felt a
momentary sense of comfort when he remembered last year’s
auction.

Five women, Shane. Five!” Zach bragged. “What
a way to spend my next few days off!”

“
Not five at the same time, Ryan,” he
drawled. “Five different dates.”

“
So you say.”

“
Are you even sure you can satisfy five
women?”

“
You’re just jealous, Hartwell.”

He allowed himself to grin before he shoved
the memory to the side. “Anything come back on the fire?”

“Not yet.”

“At least we found the igniter.”

“Acetone.” Dylan rubbed his brow. “What do
you think that’s all about?”

“Easy to get. No one questions the purchase
of acetone because it’s used so many different ways.” He shrugged.
“Any witnesses?”

“No. The fire started around three thirty
a.m. They don’t open until six. Why Joe’s?”

“Who knows? If it’s a serial arsonist like we
think, it doesn’t matter what burns as long as it burns.”

Dylan’s eyes flashed his anger. “It takes a
pretty sick individual to risk lives for a cheap thrill.”

He nodded. Lives of innocent people. Lives of
people who risked their own for others. Lives like Zach’s. Anger
and anxiety threatened to take him to his knees.

“I’m going to the gym for awhile.”

“Just don’t pull anything.” Dylan grinned.
“Maddie expects you to bring big bucks.”

***

Detective Jake Rawlings pushed open the
Primrose Police Department’s squad room door, juggling his coffee
cup and his protein bar when his cell phone rang from inside his
left jacket pocket. He slipped the bar in his pocket as he read the
caller ID and slid open the phone.

“Hey, Maddie. What’s up?”

“Hi, Jake. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.
We’ve got Mable here at the ER. She asked me to give you a
call.”

Jake stopped, turned around, and headed back
out the door, ditching his Styrofoam coffee cup in the trash as he
went.

“I’m on my way. What happened?”

“She fell at Liberty’s clinic and may have
broken her hip. The x-rays haven’t come back yet.”

“Tell her I’ll be there soon.”

Jake disconnected and climbed into his city
cruiser. His grandmother and Mable had been best friends since they
were kids and when his grandmother had been diagnosed with cancer,
he promised to look after Mable. Although she said she appreciated
his gesture, she had laughed for a good few minutes and told him
Mable would be the one looking after him. Almost four years had
passed since he’d lost his grandmother and Jake had managed to
become Mable’s adopted grandson. And somehow he’d grown quite fond
of her and her commanding attitude. His grandmother was probably
still laughing.

Once inside the ER, Jake went to the desk and
flashed his badge. “Detective Jake Rawlings. I need to see ...”

“Jake!” Maddie waved him back. “I’ll take you
to see Mable.”

He followed Maddie through two large silver
doors and then across a large room until they stood outside a
cubicle. “How’s she doing?”

“Directing traffic, as usual. But she’ll be
glad you’re here.” Maddie pulled back the curtain.

Jake’s heart almost broke in two. Mable
seemed smaller and more fragile lying there in a hospital bed. She
was almost as pale as the sheet.

“Mable, what happened?”

“The darnedest thing. When I got to work,
there was a huge bouquet of flowers sitting on the doorstep. I
tried to carry it in and I couldn’t see over or around it. Ran
right into a wall, lost my balance and fell. Dropped that beautiful
bouquet. And when the paramedics and firemen came they trampled all
over Dr. Prescott’s flowers. They’re ruined.”

“I’m sure Liberty is more concerned about you
than the flowers. Is there anything you need? Something I can do
for you?”

“Yes. I want you to call my niece, Sabrina.
She will come. Dr. Prescott is going to need help until I can come
back to work.”

Jake frowned. “Since when do you have a
niece?”

“Since my sister’s daughter gave birth,”
Mable snapped. “She’s all the family I have left.”

“I’ll call.” Jake pulled out his phone, still
curious why he didn’t know anything about Mable’s niece, or
great-niece, rather. “What’s the number?”

As Mable rattled numbers, the technician came
to wheel her to x-ray. Jake went out to the waiting room and made
his call.

***

Later that evening, Shane chuckled as Maddie
buzzed around like a mad hornet back stage to prepare her
merchandise for auction. Dylan stood next to her with his arms
crossed and wearing a nasty sneer.

“Ethan, hold still!” She poked baby oil deep
into the crevices of his chest muscles.

Shane bit back a grin. Dylan’s whole crew had
been suckered. And Ethan Rawlings was first on the menu.

Ethan glanced at Dylan. “Your husband is
threatening me again.”

Shane elbowed his best friend in the ribs.
“Lay off, Carmichael. She’s the hot oil girl.”

“Dylan!” Maddie shrieked. “Leave him alone.
He needs to be shiny so he’ll sell.” She grinned and wiggled her
shiny fingers in the air. “Are you sure you don’t want some?”

“No thanks, sweetheart, my wife will be
furious.” Dylan cupped her head in his hands and kissed her.

“Noah,” she sang, “you’re next, stud!”