A gust of wind blew smoke over them, and she coughed.
“Are you all right?” He lifted her chin to check her face, concern for her evident in his eyes.
She cleared her throat. “Fine. I’d wrestle a shark for water.” His fingers lingered on her chin.
He yelled to Ana and mimicked a drinking motion. His hand was muscled and lean. Ana nodded, and the fire captain turned back to her.
“No need to wrestle a shark. And Charlie would’ve rescued his receipts himself if he thought they were important enough. I haven’t talked to him yet, but Ana said she had to hold him back to keep him from going in after you. It was a foolish attempt.” The smile in his eyes belied his harsh words.
The smile spread to his lips. Laugh lines at the corners of his eyes deepened to give extra dimension to his face. “You more than made up for any foolishness, though, by saving six lives first. Whatever possessed you to go back inside?”
“Why not? Charlie’s been wonderful to me. I wanted to do something for him. It only took seconds to grab the register. But the heat and smoke . . . I didn’t realize it could happen so fast.” She couldn’t tell anyone how much the ring meant.
“Always get out. Never go back.”
A shiver passed along her spine. He might have been talking about the past five years of her life. She’d become expert in getting out because she could never go back.
Ana arrived with the water.
“Thanks for still taking care of me.” She couldn’t unscrew the top quick enough. While she drank, Ana waved goodbye. Summer emptied the bottle and turned to Charlie Duran’s son. “And thank you, too. I feel better already. What did you want to ask?”
He nudged his helmet back from his forehead with his thumb. “Tell me about the few minutes before you noticed the fire. Did you see or hear anything suspicious?”
A Corpus Christi patrol car pulled to a stop a few feet away, reminding her that this section of the island was part of the city. The officer jumped out, flung on a fluorescent green traffic vest, and grabbed a Maglite. As he trotted back to the highway, the steady whup-whup-whup of a helicopter grew in intensity. She glanced up expecting to see the familiar white and blue Halo Flight chopper, but at the sight of the call sign of a local television station, she ducked her head.
Keeping her face lowered, Summer looked toward the highway. “Traffic out there must be horrible.”
“I’m sure. Back to my question. Anything strike you as odd before the blaze erupted?”
She closed her eyes a moment to make sure of what she recalled. “No, nothing unusual. I’d been to the kitchen for chips and salsa. On the way back, a smell—like nail polish remover. Someone must have spilled a bottle in the ladies room, but I never got to check.”
He rubbed his jaw. “What else?”
She had a thing for hands, and his turned her on. She’d tried not to notice when he tilted her chin and pushed his helmet back. He was the first man since Joe O’Brien who roused more than a physical attraction in her. Even here in the open she felt safer with him at her side.
“Ms. Newcombe? Are you all right?”
She forced her gaze from his hands. “Sorry. I was lost in thought. What did you ask?”
“If anything struck you odd immediately prior to the fire. You told me about the nail polish remover and not having time to check it out.”
“The closer I got to the dining area, smoke replaced the polish remover. But it wasn’t mouth-watering, like from fajitas.”
“Can you describe the odor?”
“Repulsive. Like a bad experiment in chemistry lab.”
He laughed and pulled out a black notebook before frown lines formed on his forehead.
She hadn’t known Charlie Duran long, but he’d never spoken about a son. Now that she knew he had one, why he hadn’t talked about his family piqued her interest. But not as much as his son did. The son who called his father Charlie instead of Dad.
“How long did it take for the smoke alarms to go off?”
She slapped at a mosquito on her arm. For a moment, she returned to the fire. She would never forget how it breathed. “They never went off.”
“You’re sure? Think back.”
She closed her eyes again and replayed those few minutes. “No alarms, not even after the place filled with smoke. They’re loud. The emergency lights worked, though.”
He spoke while writing in the notebook again. “The lights are battery operated. They work anytime the power goes out. Is Charlie still a perfectionist?”
“I’ve only been here a week, but I do see him every day. Some of the time he’s a little obsessive. He likes to look after people. And he wants things to be perfect for them.”
Captain Duran’s face looked puzzled, as if he just realized she was there. “You got all that in a few days?”
“Impressions. You know how that is.” She’d formed instant opinions about people all her life. Over the past five years her intuition had become more accurate. “You don’t live on this earth for thirty years and not pick up a few tidbits.”
The strange look lingered on his face. “Anything out of the ordinary today?”
“I was waiting when he got here this morning, so we came in together. He turned off the security system and punched the button on the smoke alarm above the register before he put his keys back in his pocket. The alarms blared. Why didn’t they work when it counted?”
“The breaker box was near the point of origin. It’s possible flames burned through the electric supply line before smoke reached the closest alarm.”
He was lying. She knew by the way his gaze skittered from her own.
Still crouched in front of her, he shifted position and stared at her for a few seconds. She probably looked like an overdone cookie with frizzy frosting. He, on the other hand, was no mere firefighter of the month. He was one hundred percent pure cover material. Sheer force of willpower kept her from touching his stubbled cheek.
A coughing fit jerked her back to reality.
He rubbed her back. “Do you need anything? More water?”
She cleared her throat. “I’m good. Charlie’s going to be upset those smoke detectors didn’t work.”
A muscle in his jaw tightened, but he made no comment, confirming her suspicion that there must be a reason they didn’t work. Like someone cut the line. Or flipped off the breaker.
“Did you have reason to go outside any time after six?”
He was asking if she’d had the opportunity. Good. He was smart and didn’t take things at face value. “No. Happy Hour starts at five. We’re busy from then till close.”
Another gust of wind blew the stench of burned plastic and electrical components into her face. She twitched her nose, trying to rid it of the odor.
He lifted his helmet long enough to run his fingers through short dark hair that was as wet as if he’d just stepped from a shower. Then he was all business again. “Any customer exhibit overt nervousness or inappropriate behavior?”
“No.”
“How about a disgruntled customer or employee?”
“My tables were good. I didn’t hear any complaints. Best I could tell, people were happy. Customers and staff. Lots of laughing. Is it all right if I stand up?”
He stood and offered his hand. “Sure, but hold on to me for a minute in case you get dizzy.”
His hand was as strong and muscular as it looked. She didn’t let go. Standing, the top of her head stopped just beneath his chin. He wore boots; she, sandals. If this were a romance novel—and she’d read a lot of them—she’d think about how her heart beat faster at the touch of his skin, the roughness of his coat, the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. And how her belly quivered at his nearness. But she couldn’t let herself be carried away. Romance could never enter her life. Even if the firefighter was the God of Fire in the flesh.
At the sound of a horn, they both looked toward the highway. Two blondes in bikinis straddled a black Harley and waved at the crowd. When a fir
efighter several yards away waved, Captain Duran shook his head. “I need to talk to that rookie before he gets hurt.”
“Friends of yours?” Summer asked, a half smile playing on her face.
“Not my type.”
“Let me guess . . . wife and kiddies at home.”
“Just me. And a firehouse cat.”
“So what is your type?”
“Blondes whose hands fit perfectly in mine.”
She glanced at their clasped hands before looking at him. “I see. Tall, dark, and strong has always worked for me.”
“It’s okay to hold on for a while. For support, of course.”
“Of course.” She made no effort to remove her hand from his. “The world was spinning for a minute, but it’s stopped.”
“Good. Think you can walk? A family over there wants to say thank you.”
“Sure.” She took a step. Two. Her knees buckled.
He stepped in front of her and grabbed her other arm. “Whoa. Stand still a little longer. Give your body a bit more time to equalize. I’ll hold on to you.”
She leaned against him. He was as strong as the old oak she’d climbed as a girl. She rested her hands at his waist and closed her eyes. Despite his earlier denial, he probably had a sexy girlfriend who’d be more than a little upset to see them standing together as they were. At the thought, her eyes popped open.
Firefighters tended to hoses that appeared stretched in every direction possible. From somewhere out of her view, a male voice shouted for someone to start checking for hot spots. Hot spots. That was a good one. That’s how she felt snuggled against this man—like a hot spot waiting to break into flame. She had to stop this line of thought because nothing could ever happen between them.
The helicopter hovered aft of the ruins. At any moment, the camera person would decide they had enough aerial footage, the pilot would land, and she’d be news. Not something the Federal Witness Security Program encouraged. She had to leave.
“Let’s try this again. Never had such a time getting my sea legs before.” She smiled when she completed her circle around him.
“Smoke and heat take a lot out of you.”
“I think I’m fine this time.” She ran her fingers along the name patch on the front of his coat. “I don’t even know your name. Besides Captain, I mean.”
“Gabriel. Everyone calls me Gabe.”
Her knees almost buckled again from the force of the smile he turned on her. Holy God in Heaven. How would she have the strength to resist this man? She pulled some strands of composure out of the air and held onto them for dear life. “Nice to meet you, Gabe.”
Another firefighter jogged up. “’Scuse me, Cap. Broussard wants you at the back.”
“He say why?”
“Said he found the point of ignition. And you weren’t going to like it.”
Gabe’s mouth narrowed to a straight line and his eyes hardened. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”
Perfect timing for her getaway.
He turned back to her. “Are you going to be all right?”
She nodded. “I’m going home. And I’m going to try to get clean.”
“Don’t forget the family who wants to talk to you. Go see Ana before you leave. She’ll be happy to know you’re good. Tell her I said to give you a plastic bag to use over your car seat so you don’t get soot all over it.”
What the hell. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Watch out!” Gabe pulled her to him.
She looked where she’d stood. A lime-green Volkswagen was backing in their direction, trying to turn around in the tight space.
Gabe slapped his palm hard on the VW’s trunk, and the driver slammed on the brakes.
“Sorry!” The man waved a hand out his window, inched forward, and maneuvered around the police car.
Summer pulled her nerves back inside and smiled. “Thanks for not letting him run over me.”
Before he could answer, something tore through the fronds of the palm and bounced off the top of the patrol car. A small black box hit the pavement and rolled end over end for several yards. It must have come from the news chopper because the sound from above was a godawful banging roar.
She looked up in time to see the tail rotor fly off like a crazed Frisbee. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground and Gabe was on top of her.
Books by Carol Kilgore
Solomon’s Compass
In Name Only
Available at Amazon
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Solomon's Compass Page 32