Playing With Fire

by Adrienne Woods et al.

  I pop the tops off the two beers and hand one to Maggie. “Cheers.”

  We both takes sips of the brew.

  “It’s a long shot, but I could go into a trance and see if I can get any information about who set the Bookman College fire. It will be more difficult than getting information about a specific person. This time I won’t have anyone to focus my energy on.”

  I know I shouldn’t be advocating the use of magic for the investigation, but I’m not sure what else to do. “What if I take you to the location? Would that help?”

  When her eyes moisten, I immediately feel like a jerk for even mentioning it.

  “I haven’t been there yet,” she says softly. “To the fire site.”

  I shake my head. “Forget I mentioned it. We’ll figure something else out.”

  She places her hand on my arm. “No. I want to go.”

  “Are you sure?” The last thing I want to do is upset her.

  “Positive. If it will help us find out who killed my family, I want to do it.”

  “Then let’s go tomorrow morning.”

  She nods. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  “Don’t you think it’s strange? The two of us meeting again after all these years.”

  “Don’t you believe in fate?”

  I shrug. “I’m not sure what I believe anymore. I used to believe that I was doing the right thing by being a Benandanti witch hunter. I’m not so sure about that either. I used to think everything was black and white. Right and wrong. Now I’m seeing more shades of gray.”

  “I didn’t think I was going to practice witchcraft until my family died. I was content being a wife and mother and working as a grief counselor. After I lost Nick and Lizzie, I realized that I don’t want to deal with anyone else’s pain and loss anymore. I have more than enough of my own.”

  I place my beer on the kitchen table. Then I take the beer from her hand and place it on the table next to mine.

  “What are you doing?”

  I take her hands in mine. “Is there any way for me to take the pain from you?”

  She frowns. “What are you talking about?”

  “Is there some kind of magic or spell that you can transfer all of your pain to me. So, you don’t have to deal with it anymore.”

  “Even if a spell like that existed, I would never do that to you or anyone else.”

  “Even if I want it?”

  She looks deep into my eyes. “Believe me. You don’t want my pain.”

  “I can handle it,” I assure her.

  She shakes her head. “I care about you, Ben. More than I ever thought I would care about anyone else ever again. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  “If I could, if I knew how, I’d take the pain from you.”

  She closes the distance between us and places a soft kiss on my lips. “You’re a very special guy, Ben Walker. I’m glad that we found each other again.”

  My heart is beating wildly in my chest. I want to be with Maggie so badly it hurts. But I know I can’t. Not only because she needs time to heal. Because I’m a witch hunter. I don’t want to complicate her life anymore than it already is.

  “It’s late.” She places a quick kiss on my cheek. “I’d better get to bed.”

  When I shuffle into the kitchen to feed Burt, I’m surprised to see Maggie sitting at the table drinking coffee and reading one of the police procedural manuals from my bookshelf.

  I run my fingers through my hair in an effort to make myself halfway presentable. “I didn’t realize you’d be up so early.”

  “I already fed Burt.”

  “Thanks.” My cat is lying at her feet. Something he’s never done with me before. Maybe it’s because she’s a witch. Is that too much of a stereotype?

  “Do you think I qualify as a police consultant?” she asks.

  I pour myself a cup of coffee and take a seat next to her. “Why? Do you want the stipend?”

  “I didn’t realize it came with a stipend. Good to know. I was more interested in having greater access to information and records.”

  I take a sip of the coffee she made. “Wow, this is strong.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “No, I love it. I just don’t know too many people who like it this way.”

  “I can’t stand those mocha lattes with extra whip cream and a dash of cinnamon. Give me a cup of coffee that’s strong and black. That’s all I need.”

  I can’t help but smile. That’s exactly what I think about coffee. “What records do you want access to?”

  “What if Nick wasn’t a target of the fire at all. What if one of the other victims was the target?”

  I grab my laptop from my briefcase and fire it up. “Give me a few seconds.” I bring up the files on the victims. “Twenty people died in the fire. Five of them, including your husband, were librarians. Three of the librarians were in the backroom. We assume they were eating lunch. One was at the front counter. And Nick was in the Special Collections area with Lizzie. It was Bring Your Daughter to Work Day at the college. Two of the other librarians brought their daughters to work. They were both high school students. We believe they were stacking books. It was lunchtime, so there were only ten students in the library studying. There was a maintenance worker in the bathroom fixing a clogged toilet. Oddly, there was also a fire inspector doing a routine check of the facility that day.”

  “Out of all of the victims, why did you pick Nick as a possible target?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. It was a gut feeling, I guess.”

  “Maybe I’ll get more clarity when we visit the site today. Right now, I’m not picking up anything about the other victims.”

  “It looks like you’re ready to go.” I take another quick sip of coffee as I rise from the table. “I’d better get ready too.”

  “One more thing. Your cupboards are bare. It may not be a bad idea to do some grocery shopping later.”

  The Bookman College campus is bustling with students. In a few weeks, after final exams, the place will be quiet again when most of the kids leave for summer break.

  Maggie and I make our way to the area where the library stood. Right out front is a makeshift memorial where students and staff members have placed flowers, crosses, candles, photos of the victims, and even a few stuffed animals.

  Maggie takes a few photos of the memorial with her cellphone. Then we make our way to the center of the burned library.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask her.

  She nods. “Positive.”

  I look deep into her eyes. I want to make sure that she’s telling me the truth. She’s at such a fragile point where she’s just starting to heal. I don’t want her to take a step backwards and spiral into depression.

  As she closes her eyes, she takes in a deep breath. She stands perfectly still as if she’s going into a trance.

  After a few moments, her face contorts. Then she gasps and her eyes pop open.

  “What did you see?”

  “A middle-aged man. With a shock of red hair. He’s been here several times.” Then she turns to face me. “He’s been here with you.”

  I’m taken aback. “I’ve only been here a few times as part of the investigation. The only people who have been here with me are police officers. And the Fire Marshall.”

  Then it dawns on me. Wes Dawson, the Fire Marshall, has red hair. “It can’t be him.”

  “I saw him do it. I saw him set the fire. He’s got red eyes. He’s a fire demon.”

  My entire body stiffens as I remember the conversation we had. He joked about unsolved cases being set by a fire demon. “But why would he burn the Bookman College Library?”

  “Didn’t you say there was a fire inspector in the building that day? Maybe he…”

  “She.”

  “Maybe she was the target.”

  I shake my head. “We need to be sure about this. If I accuse the Fire Marshall of arson, and he’s innocent, it will ruin my career.
”

  “I guess we need to take a visit to Wes Dawson’s office.”

  “He’s not here,” the receptionist tells us. “Wes took the day off. He said it was too nice a day to work so he was going fishing with the guys.” She rolls her eyes. “The man has more vacation days than God.”

  “Do you know where he goes fishing?” I ask.

  She laughs so hard she snorts. “Do I look like someone who knows anything about fishing?”

  As we exit the building, Maggie heaves a sigh. “What now?”

  “We need to figure out where Wes goes fishing.”

  Maggie and I climb into my vehicle and I head to Wes’s house. Hopefully we’ll get a lead there.

  Wes lives in an old farmhouse out in the country. The area has quite a few lakes, so he might be fishing locally. I park next to an old pickup truck that looks like it hasn’t been driven this century.

  Maggie and I hop out of the car and walk up a dirt pathway to the front porch.

  Before we even have a chance to walk up the steps, a middle-aged woman marches out the front door and greets us with a 12-gauge shotgun.

  “Can I help you?”

  She’s an angry-looking woman with a scowl on her face that looks permanent. She wears tattered overalls and dirty cowboy boots. Her auburn hair is stacked on top of her head in an old fashioned bun.

  “New Jersey State Police,” I say calmly. “Would you mind putting the gun down?”

  She rests the butt of her gun on the ground next to her. “What can I do for you, Officer?”

  “I’m working on an arson case with Wes. I’ve got a lead that I want to run by him. Do you have any idea where I can find him?”

  “He went fishing.”

  “Any idea where he went?”

  “He usually goes out into the woods a few miles from here. There’s are several lakes back there. Go back to the main road. Head west. Then take the first right. It’ll be a dirt road. Drive about three miles. You’ll see the lakes.”

  “Are you Wes’s wife?”

  She laughs. “Does he seem like the marrying type? I’m his sister.”

  “I appreciate your time.” I give her a polite wave, but I don’t turn my back on her.

  Maggie and I walk backwards towards the car then climb inside.

  As soon as we’re on the road, Maggie lets out a sigh. “That was a little intense.”

  “It’s been a while since I had a gun pointed at me.”

  “Did you see her eyes turn red when she aimed the shotgun at us? It was just a flash and then it faded away.”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t notice it. Maybe it’s something only a witch can see?”

  “It’s possible. If I was a betting person, I’d lay money down that she’s a demon too.”

  I take the turn off the main road onto the dirt road that Wes’s sister mentioned. It’s a rough ride with lots of potholes. Thankfully, it’s only a few miles until we see a lake.

  I park next to a Jeep that I assume belongs to Wes. Maggie and I hop out of the car and we head toward the water.

  “Do you see him anywhere?” I ask Maggie.

  She shakes her head.

  The lake is as still as glass. The small beach area is completely deserted. It’s eerily quiet. There aren’t even any animals rustling leaves.

  “What now?” Maggie asks.

  “I hate to ask…”

  “You don’t have to.” This time she stares into the lake begins to chant. “May the power of the Grand Dea flow through me and show me the location of Wes Dawson.” After several moments in a trance state, she opens her eyes. “He’s a few hundred yards from here, but he’s not fishing.”

  I frown. “What is he doing?”

  “Let’s go find out.” Maggie takes off into the woods and I follow.

  The trees are in full bloom. The canopy overhead keeps us almost fully shaded from the bright sun.

  After hiking for several minutes, Maggie comes to a stop. “He’s over there,” she whispers.

  Wes is seated in a small folding chair next to the charred remains of an old campfire. He stares at the burnt ash with such intensity it gives me chills.

  “What is he doing?” I whisper to Maggie.

  “Let’s watch,” she whispers back.

  I notice a large pile of wood logs a few feet from where he’s seated. He grabs one of the logs from the pile and places it in the center of the old campfire area.

  He stares at the log for several moments. Then his eyes flash and the log bursts into flames. The fire is so intense it turns the log to ash within minutes.

  I’ve never seen wood burn that fast in my life.

  As I draw my gun and make my way over to Wes, Maggie follows close behind.

  He’s so intent on his fire-starting, he doesn’t notice me right away. When he finally glances up at me, he doesn’t seem the least bit surprised to see me. “How did you find me?”

  “Your sister told us you were fishing up here. I told her we were working on a case together.”

  “What do you think that gun is going to do? I can set you and everything around you on fire in the blink of an eye.”

  He has a point. But I keep my gun raised anyway. If I go down, I’m going down shooting.

  “Who is the lovely young woman with you?” When he looks in Maggie’s direction, I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. He’d better not even think about hurting her.

  As Maggie takes a step closer to him, I grab her arm. “Stay behind me,” I urge.

  She shakes her head. “He killed my husband and daughter.”

  Wes laughs. “It wasn’t intentional, I can assure you. They are what is known as collateral damage.”

  Maggie’s entire body stiffens. “My husband had a name, Nick Moreno. He was a good man. A loving husband and father. My daughter, Lizzie, was only three years old.”

  “I did what I had to do. To protect my sister.”

  Maggie and I exchange a glance. Then she turns back to Wes. “Protect your sister? From what?”

  “She’s a firebug. Always has been. Ever since we were kids. That’s why I became a fireman and eventually the Fire Marshall. So, I could cover her tracks. The older we got, the bigger and more serious her fires got. I kept everything under control for years. Until the new fire inspector was hired. She was too smart for her own good. And she stuck her nose where it didn’t belong. She discovered some irregularities in a few cases I investigated. She had an appointment with the arson investigator from the County Prosecutor’s office the afternoon of the Bookman College fire. I had to stop her.”

  “So, you set fire to the Bookman College Library?” Maggie hisses. “You killed innocent people.”

  He shrugs. “It’s possible I may have some firebug in me too. I’ve always wanted to see books burn.”

  Maggie’s entire body starts to shake. I realize quickly that if I don’t do something, she’s going to take justice into her own hands.

  “I need to arrest you, Wes.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Now what? How does someone arrest a fire demon? I don’t want to go up in flames.

  Wes and I stare at each other. Neither one of us willing to make the first move.

  Then Maggie closes her eyes and begins to chant. “Wes Dawson, what you have put into the world, may it now return to you tenfold. May the power of the Grand Dea bring onto you all the karma you deserve.”

  Wes jumps from his seat as the ground underneath his feet turns red hot. Then the pile of logs next to him burst into flames.

  “What have you done!” he screams.

  His eyes turn bright red as he glares at Maggie. “I’m going to make you burn, bitch. Just like your husband and daughter.”

  “What you put into the world, may it now return to you tenfold,” Maggie repeats.

  Wes points a finger at Maggie. Flames begin to shoot out of his fingertip, but instead of going in Maggie’s direction, they fly into Wes’s face instead.

&nb
sp; He lets out an ear-piercing scream as his entire body combusts leaving nothing but flames where he once stood.

  Maggie turns to me. “I probably shouldn’t have done that in front of a witch hunter.”

  “It was his own fire that backfired. All you did was give it a little karmic nudge. If you hadn’t, we be the ones in flames right now.”

  “But will the Benandanti Council see it that way?”

  “There’s only one way to find out. I’ll let Carson Conner know what happened. He’s our leader. I think he’ll take your side.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I think I’ll let him answer that question. But first we need to break the bad news to Wes’s sister.”

  When we pull up to Wes’s house, the building is in flames. I dial 911 and ask for fire services as quickly as possible. Fortunately, the woods don’t start of several hundred yards from Wes’s house, so the chances of the fire spreading are minimal.

  “Do you think Wes’s sister is still inside?” Maggie asks.

  “Is it wrong of me to say that I hope so?”

  Maggie looks as exhausted as I feel when we pull up to Carson Conner’s place. It’s a brick ranch style house only a few miles from Raven Circle. It’s an older home, build in the 1980s, but it looks well-maintained and cared for.

  “Why are we stopping here?” Maggie asks as we slide out of the car.

  “You’ll see.”

  She follows me up a flower-lined pathway to the front door.

  I only knock once before the door swings open. Carson must have seen us pull up the driveway.

  “Look what the cat dragged in.” Carson shakes my hand. Then he turns to Maggie. “Good to see you again, Kiddo.”

  “Can we come in?” I ask.

  He takes a few steps back so the two of us can enter.

  I’ve only been to Carson’s house a few times on Benandanti business. The interior of the house looks like it was decorated when the home was built and never updated.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Carson asks.

  “I could use a beer,” Maggie says.

  Carson laughs. “I can make that happen.”