Close To The Fire

by Suzanne Ferrell

  Deke glanced over at Libby, who raised her shoulders in a questioning shrug. Focusing back on the road, he asked, “Exactly how many calls did you get today?”

  “Four total. Got the first one and sent the station one team. Then three more…” They heard papers being rifled on the other end of the call. “Four minutes later. Sort of bang, bang, bang. All three of those said there was an explosion. That’s when I sent out the second engine. Was there a problem? Should I have called in more volunteers?”

  “No. You handled it great, Brandt. Enough personnel to handle the blaze, but not too many to get in the way. Let’s focus on that first call. Was it a male or female?”

  There was a pause.

  “Male, I think. Not real deep though. Not high-pitched like a scared woman, either. That’s the odd thing.”

  Deke exchanged another look with Libby. “Odd how?”

  “The person wasn’t panicky. They were calm. Like they were reciting something from memory.”

  “Dammit. That was him.”

  Libby laid her hand on his thigh. He felt the trembling in it through his jeans. She knew as well as he did that whoever was doing this had planned the fire, coldly calculating to get him to the fire, possibly hoping he’d die in the explosion.

  “Him, who, Chief? You think someone started that fire on purpose?”

  Fuck. He’d forgotten in an effort to keep panic at a minimum, they hadn’t shared the arsonist information with the other members of the fire department.

  “Brandt, I need you to keep this just to yourself. Someone may or may not have started that fire.”

  “Jesus!” the operator’s voice barely whispered over the line.

  “See if you can get the number of that first call. Then I want you to send it to Mike Feeney at the state arson unit. He can probably get a trace on it faster than we can. Got it?”

  “Got it, Chief.”

  “And Brandt, no one knows about that call or this one. Not the mayor, not the county DA, not anyone from the town council and especially not that new newspaper guy.”

  “What phone call?”

  “Thanks, Brandt.” Deke shook his head at the guy’s slight humor and hit the disconnect button on his phone as he pulled into the parking lot to the side of the Peaches ’N-Cream. He parked the truck and sat staring out the windshield.

  “Deacon,” Libby said, her hand still on his thigh. “You could let Gage handle this.”

  He shook his head. “I could. But from the very beginning this has been about me. This guy is using fire to dredge up my past. Gage might get some answers, but I’m the one with the memories. One person died because of me I’m not going to let someone else I care about get hurt.”

  “Cleetus will be okay,” she said.

  Deke clamped his hand on her hand and drew it up to his mouth, pressing a long kiss into her palm. Then he turned until he captured her blue-eyed gaze with his. “I know Cleetus will be okay, sweetheart. It’s you I’m afraid will get hurt.” His breath caught in his chest and he had to blink at the burning in his eyes. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

  Laying her other hand on his face, her lower finger caressing the edges of his scars, she leaned in and kissed him. Softly, tenderly, reassuringly, then finally moving back to gaze at him once more. “You won’t lose me, Deacon. I promise.”

  He nodded, breathing in slowly, the tightness in his chest easing a bit at her words. Releasing her hand, he grabbed the bloody shirt from the seat and handed it to Libby. “Why don’t you put this in your bag and let’s go see what Lorna has to tell us about how it ended up at my house.”

  * * * * *

  “Deacon, I heard the fire was at your mama’s home. Is everything okay?” Lorna asked as Libby and Deke entered the café.

  Immediately, they were surrounded by the wait staff and several customers

  “No, Lorna,” Deke answered, shaking his head. “The house is gone.”

  “Do you know what happened?” Joe from the hardware store asked.

  “I heard it was a gas leak,” said Charlie, one of the men who played checkers at the corner stool with his friend Vince.

  Vince, who had bad knees, had hobbled over to join the crowd. “We better have the mayor call the gas company to come check for more leaks. You know, once you get one, there’s bound to be more.”

  “Yes,” said Annette, one of the afternoon waitresses. “When my cousin May’s hot water tank started having a leak a couple of years ago, everyone on that block did, too. Gas company came out and found a leak in the main line. They paid for all the repairs, too.”

  Deke answered questions as patiently as he could, but the firm set of his mouth and jaw spoke of the frustration he was feeling. Hell, Libby was feeling it, too. They needed to get information from Lorna. The sooner, the better. Maneuvering her way out of the center of the crowd, Libby managed to get in behind Lorna.

  Leaning forward, she whispered in the café owner’s ear. “Lorna, we need to talk to you privately. It’s important.”

  Lorna studied Libby a minute then raised her arms in the air. “Okay, that’s enough. Y’all can have the details later. I’ve got pies burning in the back.” She moved through the group like a bulldozer through dirt. “Annette, you have two orders in the window, girl.”

  Like birds scattering with the crack of a gun, everyone quickly returned to their seats while Libby and Deke followed Lorna to her office in the back.

  “Pete, don’t let anyone disturb us,” she called to the cook.

  “You got it, boss-lady,” Pete said, not looking up from the sizzling grill in front of him.

  Once inside the office, Lorna closed the door and dropped down into the well-used chair at the main desk. “What do you need from me?”

  “Have you any idea how this got into my house?” Deke nodded at Libby. She drew out the blood-encrusted shirt and handed it to Lorna.

  She opened it and stared open-mouthed at it. “I have no idea.”

  “How many of those have you given out?” Deke asked.

  Lorna shook her head, confusion in her eyes. “Other than Rachel, who has hers on today, no one.”

  “You’re sure?” Libby asked.

  Lorna narrowed her eyes. “I may be getting old, little Libby, but I can remember what I do with my inventory. We were going to start wearing them at next week’s football game in the concession stand.”

  “Then how did that get into my house just before it blew up?”

  “Perhaps Sylvie Gillis kept one or two?” Lorna asked.

  Deke shook his head. “No. She was pretty shook up, but swears she gave all of the shirts to you. Any chance Rachel might’ve given out a few without telling you?”

  “Not if she knows what’s good for her.”

  Deke had that frustrated look again. “Any chance we can talk with her?”

  “She should be back soon. I sent her and Kyle over to the farmer’s market. We needed some fresh produce for the week.” Lorna held up the T-shirt again. “What’s all this dark red on it? Looks like someone had an accident with some brick-colored paint.”

  “It’s blood,” Libby answered. “Sylvie used it to stop some of the bleeding from Cleetus’ head.”

  Lorna dropped the shirt. “Oh dear Lord. Is he…is he going to be okay?” For once the gossip grapevine hadn’t gotten the information out ahead of them.

  “Doc Clint took him directly to the hospital to do a CT scan,” Libby said, putting her arms around her former boss. “He did regain consciousness for a few minutes before Clint had to sedate him. They think he’ll be okay.”

  Deke opened the door. “Pete, have Rachel and Kyle gotten back yet?”

  “No, man. Better get here soon. I need to make more fries and am ‘bout out of taters.”

  “I’ll give her a quick call and have her get her keester back here quick.” Lorna said, pulling out her phone. “You’re both welcome to wait in here. Of course I’ll tell her if she’s in a spot where she’ll get reception. H
er phone doesn’t always work out in the country.”

  Libby glanced at the clock on the wall. “Shoot.”

  “What?” Lorna and Deke asked simultaneously.

  She shook her head. “Nothing really. It’s just I promised Todd Banyon I’d come over to Colbert House in an hour and it’s been almost that.”

  “Something to do with the fire?” Intensity suddenly rolled off Deke.

  “No. He said he found some contraband and wanted me to come check it out or he’d be forced to report it to Gage. That could get all four of the residents removed.” She huffed and rolled her eyes. “If I don’t get there on time, he’ll probably do it anyway just out of spite.”

  Deke huffed in almost the same way, but moved to let her out the door. “I’ll take you over there.”

  Pausing, she laid one hand on his shoulder. “No. My car’s just two blocks over at the courthouse. I’ll go see what Todd wants and I’ll also give Judge Rawlins a call about that other thing we were talking about before the fire. Hopefully you’ll have more answers by the time I get back.” She handed him Bobby’s phone from her bag. “Here, you might need to keep this.”

  He took the phone, then grabbed her and pulled her close, claiming her lips in a hard, quick kiss. “You be careful.”

  Smiling, she stroked her hand down his cheek and scarred jaw. “I promise.”

  As she walked away, she heard Lorna chuckle and Deke say, “Not one word, Lorna.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  As Rachel drove through the countryside back into town, Kyle couldn’t remember a day as good as this one was turning out to be. Yeah, he’d gotten the shit beat out of him last night, but it wasn’t anything worse than he’d had happen to him at some of the places he’d lived. Certainly wasn’t as bad as his old man would do to him on a nightly basis.

  Getting up early this morning and watching the faces of the four teammates when he’d walked onto the practice field had been a definite plus. Getting them to see him as part of the team had been pretty cool. Now, helping Rachel do the shopping for the café, spending an hour or two alone with her just sort of topped the whole day.

  As Lorna had instructed them, they’d gotten all fresh vegetables out at the farmer’s market on the highway several miles from town. They’d loaded up the back of the van almost to the top. Who knew the café used so many vegetables in a week? And Rachel had stopped to talk with every farmer, even the long-bearded Amish ones, taking samples for both of them to try. His favorites were the different homemade cheeses. Who knew there were more kinds of cheese than the ones wrapped in plastic?

  “We made good time today. Usually takes me all day when I go by myself,” Rachel said as she parked the van in the rear of the café, near the service entrance. She smiled at him. “Having help for once was fun.”

  A funny hitch settled in his stomach and he felt warm all over at her praise. “Yeah, like I was so much help. You knew everything to get and I’m pretty sure most of the sellers lowered their prices for you.”

  “Oh, that’s something Mom taught me to do, sort of haggle with them, but in a friendly kind of way. And it was fun having you help me.” She opened the door and grinned at him. “Especially to do all the heavy lifting.”

  Laughing, he climbed out his side of the van, then froze as the sickening familiar acrid odor of burning wood hit him. “Something’s burning,” he said, scanning the area around them.

  Nothing. No smoke. No flames.

  “I smell it, too,” Rachel said as she did her own look around. “Smells like the bonfire they hold the night before the homecoming game every November.”

  “Coach Reynolds gave us a talk on fire safety the other day at practice. He said there was a county-wide ban on burning anything outdoors until there was some rain.”

  “Some people don’t think rules are meant for them, I guess.” Rachel shrugged. Her phone beeped and she pulled it out of her back pocket. “Crap. I hate the bad reception we get out of town. Mom’s called me three times. I’d better go see what has her panties in a twist.”

  Kyle cringed inwardly. He didn’t want to think of Lorna and the word panties in the same image…ever. “You go ahead. I’ll get started unloading produce,” he said, opening the van door. Suddenly, she was beside him, so close he could see the few freckles scattered across her nose. “What?”

  “Thanks for going with me today,” she said, then leaned in and kissed his cheek.

  As if his feet had grown roots to that spot, he didn’t move. Even after she walked away. Even after she disappeared into the back door of the café. He stood there savoring the feel of where her lips had touched his skin.

  Yes, this was turning into the best day of his life.

  * * * * *

  Feeling like a caged tiger, Deke paced the back of the café from Lorna’s office through the kitchen area and back.

  The feeling that he was missing something important gnawed at him. They’d been lucky so far that no one had been killed in one of these sick bastard’s fires. If Cleetus hadn’t been as deceptively fast for such a big man, he and Sylvie might’ve still been inside the house when it exploded. What if he’d taken Libby in there for some reason to check on something?

  A sudden wave of nausea rolled over him. He grabbed onto the counter and bent over double. Pain clenched around his heart and he fought to breathe.

  “Hey, man,” Pete said in his ear, the sinewy man’s arms around his shoulders, holding him up. “You okay, there, Chief?”

  Deke sucked in a deep breath and forced his body to straighten. Libby was safe. His friend was being cared for by the best doctor he knew. They would catch this SOB before he hurt anyone else. He patted Pete on the shoulder. “Yeah, just got a little overheated, I guess. How do you stand working back here in this heat all day?”

  Pete gave him a half-grin. “I like helping people. Making good food that feeds the soul, you know?” He went over, flipped a series of burgers, dropped some potatoes into the fryer and reached into the fridge for a bowl of crisp salad. “Besides, it’s like my own little castle. Not even the boss lady messes with me back here.”

  “I heard that,” Lorna said, stepping into the kitchen, pointing at Pete. “I can take back your little castle anytime, don’t you forget that.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Pete said with a grin that said her threat didn’t worry him in the least.

  Lorna shook her head then grabbed Deke by the elbow and led him into the café. “You find a place at the counter to wait. You’re distracting Pete and I have a house full of hungry people.”

  Sit and wait? The town was in danger. Anyone around him was in danger, especially Libby. He wanted to shout it for everyone to get how serious this was. But he also knew calm, clear thinking was what would catch this firebug, so he took a seat at the opposite end of the counter from the two septuagenarian checker players and bided his time.

  “How long ago did you try Rachel’s number?” he asked, when Lorna plopped a glass of sweet iced tea down in front of him.

  “Fifteen minutes. If she’s not back in five more, I’ll try her again. But I told you reception out that way is a little sketchy.” Lorna patted his hand to still the rhythm of his fingers on the Formica top. “She’ll be here soon enough. Drink some tea and calm down.”

  He strangled a growl that threatened to erupt from him and took her advice, swallowing a long drink of the tea. Closing his eyes, he considered what enemies he had. Quite frankly, the only person he ever thought had a reason to want to kill him was Libby. Could she have decided to get revenge on him with deadly fires?

  As soon as the idea popped in his head he dismissed it. Some things never changed in a person. Libby was incapable of intentionally hurting anyone. She’d told him she forgave him for Bill’s death and his part in it. He believed that deep down inside.

  So who hated him? Hated him enough to try to kill him? With fire?

  The son of Leo Harkin. The only person he’d actively hunted and made sure he didn�
�t live to ruin any more lives with his fires. Was fate coming back to bite him in the ass? Had Leo’s son come to exact revenge for his father?

  The image of Kyle Gordon filled his mind. Familiar grey eyes and a natural wariness he’d only seen in wounded animals.

  Was Kyle actually Leo’s son? Dammit, he wished he could look inside the kid’s sealed records.

  “Where have you been, girl?” Lorna’s voice carried out of the back of the café. Deke’s eyes popped open and he strode back to the office once more.

  “Out getting supplies like you told me, too. I just saw your calls. You know how cell reception sucks out of town.” Rachel said, standing in the office doorway, wearing one of the new Peaches ‘N Cream T-shirts. “So what’s up?”

  “I need to know if you’ve given any of those shirts out to anyone,” Deke said, coming to stand beside her.

  She looked at him, then back at her mother. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but he needed a shirt the other night when greasy water splashed all over him, so I went ahead and gave him one. I know you wanted to wait until the football game, but I figured you wouldn’t want him going around shirtless.”

  “Who?” Deke asked. He reached into the office and pulled out the shirt and held it up for her to see. “Who did you give the shirt to?”

  A loud crash sounded behind them. Kyle stood there, where he’d slammed the box of apples onto the floor of the kitchen just inside the door.

  “Don’t yell at her.” He took three strides forward until he was nearly nose-to-nose with Deke, passion and anger lighting his eyes. “Don’t you ever yell at her. She gave one of the shirts to me.”

  * * * * *

  “I understand records are sealed for a reason, Judge. We don’t want to know all the details of Kyle’s life, just the names of his parents.” Libby rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at the phone, grateful that video phones weren’t the norm yet.

  For the past fifteen minutes she’d been sitting in her car under a shady tree two blocks from Colbert House, trying to convince Judge Rawlins that it was in everyone’s best interests, including Kyle’s, that his records be opened. Whatever it was that Todd wanted to tell her could wait until she’d kept her promise to Deke.