Spark

by R K Close

  I dragged myself from the bed and managed to make it into the bathroom, I looked in the mirror and wondered what was different about Liam. He was handsome, but I’d been around attractive men. Hell, I worked in television. I’d even dated a few.

  There was his animal-like magnetism that was almost a tangible thing. That was different from other men. It seemed to radiate from him, and I didn’t believe he was aware of the effect he had on the opposite sex.

  And then there was that kiss. I hadn’t expected that. Not with the way he’d acted toward me. Maybe it wasn’t me, but the idea of an interview. Perhaps I was taking it personally, and it just wasn’t.

  It had felt personal. But then again, so had that kiss.

  IT WAS ALMOST TIME for Daisy to pick me up for work. We’d been carpooling since my first week. It was this extra time together outside of work that had kindled our friendship.

  I had just finished filling two travel mugs with homemade caramel macchiatos when I noticed the pencil drawing I’d done before going to bed last night.

  It was a good likeness of the man in the bar. I slipped it into my briefcase in case it was ever needed. I grabbed the two coffees, then looked out the front window to see if Daisy had arrived. The sun had risen, but just barely. My heart skipped a beat. Liam’s truck was still parked in front of my house.

  I could see someone on the driver’s side, so I poured an extra coffee and walked out to the truck to make sure he was okay. As I approached the truck, I tried to tell my heart to slow down. It wasn’t listening as our kiss kept invading my thoughts.

  When I reached the window on the driver’s side, I could see Liam was sleeping. Hesitating, I studied his resting face. He looked gentler, almost innocent with his hard lines relaxed in sleep. I wanted to touch his face. It stirred something in me that I didn’t understand.

  Feeling guilty for watching him, I gently tapped on the window with my travel mug. Liam jerked awake, and his eyes darted around quickly. He seemed to realize where he was, and then he saw me. He rubbed his hands over his face.

  Liam looked embarrassed, and maybe angry again. Why did I keep having that effect on him? His face turned to hard lines, and his eyebrows knotted together. It was like a mask he dropped into place for the rest of the world, or maybe just for me.

  Liam rolled the window down and grumbled, “Good morning.”

  I almost laughed as I handed him a cup of coffee. He looked surprised, but took it from me.

  “Thank you.” He took a sip and his eyes closed for a few seconds as he seemed to savor the flavor. I must have guessed right. I served it to him black and strong. I didn’t want to ruin his moment, so I took a sip from my travel mug and waited. When his eyes opened, he looked at me.

  “Are you going to tell me why you’re sleeping in your truck? You’re wearing the same clothes from last night, so I’ll assume you never left,” I said, before taking another sip.

  He looked down at the cup. “I was worried about that stranger last night.”

  That was not what I expected to hear. I thought maybe he decided he’d had too much to drink and slept it off in the truck. This...this was sweet. I was touched. Who does that sort of thing these days?

  “You were concerned...” I tried to finish the thought.

  “I had a bad feeling about him, and just wanted to be sure you were safe.” Liam continued to sip his coffee and avoided making eye contact with me.

  “Why didn’t you say anything to me? I asked, still trying to understand this man. He was a puzzle, and I felt compelled to find the missing pieces.

  “I didn’t want to make too big a deal out of it. That might have given you the wrong idea,” he said, finally looking at me. His words said one thing, but his eyes held that same passion I’d seen the night before. I was getting mixed signals from Liam, and I wasn’t entirely convinced he knew he was sending them. Or did he? Maybe I’d just imagined the whole thing, and the only passion was in my head.

  “I see. Well, I can see how you wouldn’t want me thinking that you liked me or anything like that,” I said, unable to hide the irritation in my voice. I couldn’t help it. I got his message, loud and clear.

  Liam looked like he regretted his words, and then just seemed plain uncomfortable. He finished his coffee and handed the mug back to me. I took it, but feeling hurt, I found I couldn’t look at him anymore. He hadn’t even denied it.

  He started his truck. “Thank you for the coffee, and...I’m sorry,” he said, before pulling away from the curb and driving down the street. I just stood there feeling miserable. We weren’t anything to each other, yet his driving away felt like breaking up. As silly as the thought was, it still left me feeling sad, hurt, and angry.

  Daisy pulled up in her car, her eyes wide. She lowered her window and stared at me. “Was that Liam McKenzie leaving your house?”

  “Not really. Give me a second, and I’ll grab your coffee.”

  A returned from the house with my briefcase, her coffee drink, and a painting with a bow on it, under my arm.

  “You did it! Oh, let me see,” Daisy exclaimed, as I got into the car and handed her the coffee and the painting.

  “He looks like my little Buttercup. Thank you, Jess. I love it,” Daisy said, admiring the painting I’d made for her. She’d told me about losing her beloved Beagle last year, and how much she missed him. So, for a late birthday gift, I borrowed a picture of her dog and painted a portrait of Buttercup for Daisy.

  “I hoped you’d like it,” I said, putting on my seatbelt.

  She turned to me with glossy eyes. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” she said, and reached across the car and hugged me.

  “It’s therapy for me, so thank you for letting me paint him. I wish I’d known him.”

  “You really are talented, Jess. I don’t know why you’re a reporter. You’re such a good artist. I mean it. It looks so professional,” Daisy said, admiring the painting.

  I laughed. “It’s not that great, and it doesn’t pay the bills, just ask my parents.

  When I was young, I dreamed of painting for a living. There were few things I loved more than art. My parents began discouraging me from any serious aspiration and made certain that it was only to be a hobby. It had always been my outlet, a happy place to go when life got crazy. My house was filled with my paintings. Some girls collected dolls—I collected art, mostly mine.

  Daisy carefully put the painting in the backseat then backed out of the drive.

  “Okay, don’t think that giving me a gift will get you off the hook. Liam stayed the night?” Daisy asked with renewed excitement.

  I gave her a dry look. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t even know he was here. Liam slept in his truck because he was worried about that guy last night.”

  Daisy began to drive. “That’s it?”

  I debated telling her about the kiss for all of three seconds. “And he kissed me when he walked me to the door.” I stared straight ahead, but in my peripheral vision, I could see Daisy stealing glances at me. I wished she’d watch the road.

  “Oh crap! You kissed Liam McKenzie.” She was way too excited about that.

  I decided to change the subject. “And what about you and Seth? What happened there?” I really did want to know.

  “Nothing. He was a perfect gentleman. Damn it,” she said, sounding deflated. “Seth kissed me on the cheek. I hope your kiss was less platonic.”

  With Seth’s reputation and their prior make-out session, I’d assumed her night would be a bit more colorful than that. “Sorry,” I offered.

  “It’s no big deal. I don’t know what Seth’s type is, but I already knew I wasn’t it,” she said, throwing me a genuine smile. It went a long way to tell me she really wasn’t hurt by Seth’s lack of interest.

  So why did Liam’s rejection feel like the end of something we didn’t have, I wondered?

  LIAM WASN’T THE ONLY one who had a bad feeling about the stranger in the bar. Stories for me usu
ally began with a tip or nothing more than a question, and sometimes simply a gut feeling.

  There had been two, so far, unexplained deaths in this small community where nothing too exciting ever happened. And in walks a stranger who sticks out like a sore thumb. I did consider the notion that he could be a wealthy student from another country, but he looked too old to be a student. Northern Arizona University or NAU, as we fondly referred to the state college, had plenty of foreign students coming and going.

  But the man from last night neither struck me as a student, nor someone on vacation here to take on the great outdoors. He seemed too...something.

  I was sitting at my desk considering all the possible ways the campers might have died. My contact at the morgue had not called with the cause of death, so all my ideas were loose notions for the moment.

  Daisy stuck her head around my cubicle. “Want to grab some lunch?” She looked down at the wine glass I was holding and then up at me. Her face contorted in a confused expression.

  The wine glass was the one I snatched from the bar the evening before. I slipped it into my purse as Liam escorted me past the table. When I arrived home, I sealed it in a ziplock plastic bag.

  “We really need to talk about your drinking problem.” I rolled my eyes at her. “You want to tell me what that is?” Daisy asked suspiciously.

  “You know what it is,” I said.

  “I know I know what it is. Why do you have a wine glass at work?.”

  “I stole it from the bar last night.” Daisy blinked at me.

  “You did what?” She blinked again and pushed her glasses up her nose. “Is that the wine glass that man used last night?”

  “The very one.”

  “And what are you planning on doing with it?” Daisy crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall of my cubicle.

  “I’m going to have it dusted for prints.”

  “But why? He was a jerk, but there’s no law against being an asshole.”

  “It’s probably nothing, but I just have one of those itchy feelings,” I explained.

  “The last time you had one of those itchy feelings we were arrested for trespassing.” Daisy had that look that said she wasn’t going along with another of my crazy ideas. Her eyes became hooded and took on a totally condescending expression that screamed her disapproval like a megaphone.

  “That was different, and how was I supposed to know we were trespassing? The lock was off. That’s practically an invitation,” I defended. “And I got the company to drop the charges. Besides, I already told Lorie that I was bringing it by. She didn’t blink an eye at the idea. Well, it was over the phone, but you know what I mean.”

  “Lorie, your college friend from the crime lab in Phoenix?” she asked, surprised.

  “Yep. Want to drive to Phoenix with me?” I asked, smiling enthusiastically.

  “Fine, but I think you’re wasting your time. He was just a jerk of a guy with a big ego, and maybe a death wish. I wouldn’t want to pick a fight with the McKenzie brothers, but maybe he was too stupid to know that,” Daisy said.

  “Then it’s settled. You drive, and I’ll buy lunch.”

  “You better be buying me lunch,” Daisy grumbled.

  Daisy left to get her things. The phone rang as I was slipping the glass into my purse. “Jessica Parker,” I answered.

  “Jess, it’s Eric.”

  I sat up straighter in my chair and grabbed a pen and a slip of paper.

  “Eric. How are you?” I hated doing the small talk when all I really wanted to know was the information.

  “I’m good. I’ve got something for you, and it’s pretty big,” Eric said.

  “I’m all ears.”

  “The campers both died from exsanguination.”

  “Ex-sang-u-what?” I asked. I knew I’d heard the term before but couldn’t remember what it meant.

  “They were drained of blood. They died from blood loss,” Eric explained.

  I was silent, trying to rationalize what he’d just told me.

  “Jess?”

  “I’m here. Sorry. Are you saying someone did this to them?” I asked.

  “Yep. It’s bizarre because there was little to no blood at the scene. But you can’t quote me on that.”

  Daisy had grabbed her bag and returned to my cubicle. I motioned for her to wait a moment.

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Where would the blood have gone?” I asked.

  “I’m not a detective, but it would seem to me that they must have been killed somewhere else, where the blood could have been drained or suctioned out, but that would be difficult to do. Then maybe they were taken back to their camp,” Eric offered. “Pretty weird, huh?”

  “That’s an awful lot of work to murder two people. Why go to all that trouble with the blood?”

  Daisy scrunched up her face.

  “Crazy people do crazy things. I’ve got to run, but do you want to have dinner this week?”

  Now it was my turn to scrunch up my face. “I’m sorry, Eric. My schedule is full this week. Let’s talk next week,” I offered, but was already thinking of ways to get out of it. This made me feel like a bad person, but at least if I met him next week for lunch, I could put the bug in his ear about Daisy. Sow the seeds and watch them grow.

  “Oh. Okay, I’ll call you then. Bye.”

  “Bye, Eric. And thank you for the information.” I said, then ended the call.

  I looked at Daisy. “Looks like Flagstaff has a double homicide,” I said gravely.

  Daisy mouthed the words Wow, just as Brenda Jeffrey walked up. “What’s going on?” she asked. I eyed her from head to toe. Her perfect red glossy pumps matched her perfect red shiny lips, and it didn’t help that her clothes were always designers that I couldn’t afford even on clearance. If those stores had clearance racks.

  I’d long suspected Brenda had a trust fund or a sugar-daddy in her pocket because we made similar salaries, and I could barely afford a manicure.

  “Sorry, Brenda. We’ve got to run. Catch you later,” I said, grabbing Daisy’s arm and pulling her down the hall.

  I did not need Brenda Jeffery sniffing around my story.

  8

  Liam

  I could see Jessica in the rearview mirror as she stood in the street, watching me drive away. It felt so wrong to be moving away from her like this. Every nerve in my body, every thought in my mind wanted to be near her. But why? What was she to me?

  I knew my words to her would obliterate any spark that may or may not have started from the kiss we shared the night before. Kissing Jessica was another mistake, and I needed to backpedal somehow. Leading her to believe it meant nothing to me was a necessary lie.

  Allowing her to find me parked in front of her house was plain stupid. I managed to stay up most of the night, but at some point before dawn, I must have dozed off. I’d meant to be gone before she woke.

  Kissing her had felt so good, so right. Not just physically, but almost spiritually. I couldn’t explain it. Where she was concerned, none of my emotions made any sense.

  I couldn’t let that happen again. Jessica Parker deserved better than me. What woman could ever love the thing I was—the animal that I became?

  If her response to my kiss was real, then I shouldn’t have led either of us on. Not to mention being involved with her would be risky as hell, considering her profession. I should never forget her reasons for being with me last night. She’s after a story. Her response to my kiss may have been a means to an end.

  That thought bugged me. Why did I care if a beautiful woman wanted to use me for a story? There were worse things in life. But there was the crux of it—I did care. I knew nothing about Jessica, but my desire to keep her close, protect her, make love to her, was a physical ache.

  I headed for the fire station and something that I knew and understood—work.

  COLE AND SETH WERE at the station before me. That was a phenomenon that rarely, if ever, happened. The first thing I did
was head into the shower, then shave.

  Seth gave me a knowing look when I passed him in the day room, and I knew he suspected that I’d spent the night with Jessica. I was close enough that if I focused hard, I could hear her breathing and knew the moment she drifted off to sleep. For a moment I’d imagined lying next to her, waking next to her. Basically, torturing myself.

  Cole and Seth found me in the engine bay, double checking air tank levels. It was something to pass the time.

  “So, you and the reporter, eh?” Cole asked jokingly.

  “Nothing happened. I stayed in my truck to watch her house. We don’t know what that thing was, and I didn’t want to take a chance, so I stuck around,” I said.

  Neither Cole or Seth looked like they believed me. I didn’t care.

  “It’s okay if something did happen. You don’t need to feel bad about it,” Cole said, trying to sound supportive.

  “No, it’s not. She’s a reporter. What if she became curious and started digging into our past? Do you really want to move because I was attracted to a woman?” Cole looked surprised. “Seriously, Cole. Why do you think I left Harmony? I can’t be with someone and have any level of real intimacy.”

  Cole’s boyish demeanor changed. “You never should have left Harmony,” Cole said, surprising me. Cole rarely lost his cool with anyone, so his words felt like a sucker punch.

  “And why was that?” I asked, feeling my anger rising.

  “Because you didn’t give her the option to love you or leave you. You just left,” Cole shot back.

  In the past seven years he’d never said a word about his opinion on the matter. I always knew he liked Harmony and even wanted us to marry, but I didn’t realize that all this time, he thought I’d made a mistake.

  “I left because it was the right thing to do. I left because Harmony deserved a normal life,” I said.