Fire Storm

by Nancy Mehl

  “Yeah, I know that. They put their lives on the line because they want to help, not because they’re drawing a paycheck.”

  “Yep. Makes them heroes in my book.”

  “Mine too,” Kaely said. “What’s Sam’s regular job?”

  “He’s a veterinarian.”

  Kaely laughed. “Okay. So this hero firefighter also takes care of puppies and kittens? Is he for real?”

  “You’ll find out. He had to run an errand, but he said he’d stop by on the way to his clinic. He should be here any minute.”

  As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Kaely noticed her mother adjust her robe. Then she reached up and patted her wig. Kaely knew how much it upset her when someone stopped by unexpectedly. But strangely enough, she didn’t look bothered.

  “He’s a nice man, Jessica,” Marcie said. She looked pale this morning, but her voice was steady and her eyes were clear. Kaely took that as a good sign. “Please don’t embarrass us by acting like you know everything. Sam is a professional. He doesn’t need your . . . help.”

  Kaely looked at her brother, who shook his head slightly. The pleading look on his face made Kaely bite her tongue. Starting an argument right before someone walked into the house wasn’t wise. She was truly surprised by Marcie’s reaction to Sam. What made this guy so different?

  And then he stepped into the room.

  Kaely gulped. Sam Lucas wasn’t just a hero. He was a hunky hero. The kind of firefighter who posed on those cheesy calendars, and Kaely could certainly see this guy on the cover. He was tall with thick blond hair. Bright blue eyes framed a strong face with full lips that turned up in a smile that made her heart skip a beat.

  “Sam, this is my sister, Kaely,” Jason said.

  Sam stuck out his hand. Strong fingers, manicured fingernails. But they didn’t look like they were done in a salon. This guy took care of his own nails.

  “FBI, right?” he said. “Impressive.”

  Kaely took his hand. “Volunteer firefighter,” she said back. “Very impressive.”

  Sam laughed. “I appreciate that, but my penchant for excitement shouldn’t be confused with a desire to save the world.”

  “Hey, Sam,” Kaely said. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep the FBI thing to yourself. I’m here for personal reasons and would rather not let anyone else know what I do.” She glanced at Jason. “I guess my little brother has a big mouth.”

  Sam nodded. “Not a problem. I’ll keep quiet.” He switched his attention to Kaely’s mother. “How are you doing, Marcie?”

  “Hanging in there, Sam,” she said. “Thanks for picking up our groceries the other day.”

  “You’re more than welcome,” he replied. “Just holler if I can do anything else.”

  “I really appreciate it too,” Jason said. “I just didn’t feel right about leaving her alone. She was pretty shaky after her treatment.”

  “Happy to do it. Call me anytime, Jason.”

  “Thanks,” Jason said. “Feel free to sit down. How about a Denver omelet?”

  “Sounds great, but I already ate.” Sam glanced at the coffeepot. “I could sure use a cup of coffee though.”

  For just a moment, Kaely thought about jumping up and getting this dude’s java. She didn’t usually react this way to good-looking men, but she was human. Of course, she wasn’t looking for a man. So why did her eyes shift to his ring finger? No ring. It took a few seconds for her to wrangle her thoughts under control. She wasn’t responsible for visceral reactions, but she was liable for her thoughts and feelings once an uncontrolled physical response passed.

  As Jason poured a cup of coffee, Sam sat down in the vacant chair next to Kaely. “I think my sister has some questions for you,” Jason said, placing the cup where Sam could reach it.

  Sam’s eyes shifted toward her and a slow, lazy smile stretched across his face. Kaely was dismayed to find it hard to speak for a second. Shaking off the ridiculous school-girl feelings and once again trying to wrestle her analytical mind into submission, she nodded at him. It was then she caught a whiff of his aftershave. Understated. Musky.

  Shoot.

  She cleared her throat and took a deep, calming breath. “You’ve had a lot of fires this winter,” she said, stating the obvious.

  He took a sip of coffee and nodded. “Too many. All caused by mishandled space heaters.”

  “Mishandled or faulty?”

  “Hard to say. So far, most of them have been in the wrong place—next to curtains or clothes, or tipped over on the carpet.” He shook his head. “You’d think people would know better, especially after we issued a warning.”

  Although his argument sounded convincing, Kaely saw something in his body language that said something else.

  “What is it that bothers you about these fires?” Kaely asked.

  Sam’s eyes widened. “What makes you think I’m bothered by something in particular?”

  “FBI. Behavioral analyst.”

  “I thought you were a profiler.”

  Kaely smiled. “Same thing. You’re showing signs of uncertainty. Why?”

  Sam hesitated a moment. “Look, it’s nothing . . . solid. It’s just . . .” He put his cup down and focused his blue eyes on her. “It feels wrong. I checked out each fire. Couldn’t find anything that pointed to arson, but I’ve never seen this many fires caused by space heaters being misused.” He stared down at his coffee cup. Kaely could see the conflict in his expression. Finally, he said, “The third house had signs of a break-in. But the cause seemed so obvious, that I dismissed it as something that happened earlier. Or something we did.”

  “But now you’re not sure?”

  “The first two fires . . . no problem. We had survivors. They admitted to buying space heaters, although they swore they set them up safely. Couldn’t figure out how they ended up near flammable material. Again, I decided to ignore it. In these situations, almost everyone claims it wasn’t their fault. Can’t admit they were to blame. They’re afraid they’ll be found liable or lose out on an insurance payoff. Then I discovered that all the space heaters came from the same store. That’s when I started to wonder if they might be faulty. I checked it out, but they were different brands.”

  “The same store?”

  “Well, to be fair, this is Darkwater. We only have two stores that sell them.”

  “Still, that’s a coincidence. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “I don’t either. That’s why it continued to gnaw at me. And then last night—”

  “The house over on Mayfield?”

  Sam leaned closer to her. “The father and a daughter are barely hanging on. This has got to stop.”

  “I have a problem with these fires too, Sam.”

  “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “Hold on a minute.” Kaely jumped up from the table and got the newspaper from her room. As she carried it to the kitchen, she noticed the omelet Jason had made Marcie looked almost untouched. She’d taken a few bites, but not many.

  Kaely sat down and opened the newspaper to the map. “Look at this.” She pulled a pen from her pocket and drew a circle around the points on the map.

  “A comfort zone?” Sam said.

  Kaely thought he’d be surprised, but it was obvious he’d been thinking the same thing. “You almost expected this, didn’t you?”

  Sam took a deep breath and blew it out quickly. “As I told you, I’ve had some problems with this for a while. But then last night . . .”

  “What happened last night, Sam?” Jason asked.

  Kaely realized her mother and brother were listening with interest.

  He leaned forward and cupped his large hands around his coffee cup. “The teenage son from the family in that fire? He swears they didn’t have a space heater. Says his father hated them, especially after all the recent fires. Said he’d never buy one.” Sam’s eyes locked on hers. “But we found the charred remains of one in the house.”

  eleven

  Kaely�
��s mother gasped at Sam’s revelation. She frowned at her daughter but didn’t say anything.

  “Look, I’m not going to say anything for certain, Sam. That would be irresponsible. But my gut tells me you have a serial arsonist.”

  “Maybe you should talk to Chief Reynolds, Kaely,” Jason said.

  “Easier said than done,” Sam said. “I approached him last night after the teenager told us about the heater. Tuck didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t believe it.”

  “If the arsonist actually brought a space heater into that house and started a fire, it means that family was targeted.”

  “I agree,” Sam said. “I said the same thing to Tuck, but he wasn’t having any of it. I had to back off.”

  “Most people think Chief Reynolds is a good man,” Marcie said.

  “He is a good man,” Sam replied. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. But he’s very pragmatic. I have no proof, and Tuck knows how often victims of trauma are wrong—or their memories are inconsistent. It would take more than my suspicions to make him willing to see this in a different light.” He stared at Kaely. “I think Jason is right. Maybe if you could talk to him, he’d listen.”

  Kaely shook her head. “I can’t do that. I have no authority here. You should contact the FBI field office in Omaha.”

  “Tuck would never allow that. A couple of years ago we worked an arson case with Omaha. A businessman opened fake businesses across the country, then burned down his stores to collect insurance profits. Let’s just say that our collaboration didn’t go well.”

  Kaely frowned. “Our people are usually very professional. We respect local police and fire departments.”

  “I believe that, but the agent in charge of the operation treated Tuck like a dumb country hick.”

  “I’m really sorry about that,” Kaely said.

  “The chief complained to a higher-up and that agent was . . . reassigned. John Howard, the special agent in charge for the field office in Omaha, couldn’t have been more apologetic. Still, it left a bad taste in Tuck’s mouth. He’s had a chip on his shoulder ever since.”

  “What about your sheriff?”

  Sam shook his head. “Same attitude. The fire chief and the sheriff are cousins and back each other up.” He chuckled. “Of course, you’d never know it by looking at them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Tuck was adopted by Josh’s aunt and uncle, a white couple, when he was a baby. That’s how Tuck and Josh became cousins. The family is very close. Our families all grew up together.”

  “So the fire and police departments get along? Sometimes they can butt heads. A kind of rivalry thing.”

  “Not here,” Sam said. “Trust me, they’ll band together and refuse to call in the FBI.”

  “Look, how about this? You bring me what information you can. I’ll look through it and try to help. But unofficially. Off the record. You’ve got to keep this between us, Sam. If you don’t, we could both get in big trouble.”

  He winked at her. “I’ve been in trouble before. I’m not afraid of it.”

  “I’ve been in more than my share too . . . and I’m a little nervous about it. Let’s tread carefully.”

  Sam put his head back and laughed. “I like you, Kaely Quinn. I think we’re gonna get along great.” His phone suddenly rang, and he took it out of his pocket. When he looked at it, his smile faded. “I have to take this. Excuse me.” He got up and left the table, going into the living room.

  Kaely really liked this guy. She was certain they could work together. And after talking to him, Kaely was even more convinced that someone was setting these fires deliberately.

  “Someone needs to get through to Chief Reynolds,” Jason said.

  “Look, I’ll do what I can,” Kaely said. “When I have some evidence, I’ll give it to Sam. Let him take it to the chief.”

  Jason frowned. “Be careful, sis. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Kaely said, “as long as we keep this to ourselves. I’m looking into this as a private citizen, not as an FBI agent. I won’t be flashing my creds or using any FBI resources, although they sure would be helpful right now. Hopefully, I can find something that will cause Chief Reynolds to request help from the Bureau.”

  “I don’t understand why Chief Reynolds can’t handle this himself,” Marcie interjected. “He’s very competent.”

  Before Kaely could respond, Sam walked back into the room, his face tight with emotion. “The father didn’t make it.” He locked his gaze on Kaely. “Please help us. We can’t stand by and let anyone else die. If there really is an arsonist, we need to find him as quickly as possible.”

  Kaely nodded. “I’ll let you know if I uncover something that might help.”

  “I’ve got to go. I’ll get in touch with you soon.” Sam left without another word. It was clear that he was hurt by the father’s death. That brought the human loss caused through these fires to two. She understood Sam’s pain. Whether someone worked in law enforcement or public safety, they all felt responsible for the victims they couldn’t save. It was part of the job. Carrying the dead with them.

  Kaely finished breakfast and went to her room. Marcie had a doctor’s appointment, and Jason had offered to take her. Kaely had tried to talk him out of it, but he insisted it would give her some time to work the case. She made a mental note to make sure she didn’t take advantage of him. She came to Darkwater to help with her mother, not to look for a serial arsonist.

  She didn’t have much to go on yet, but she decided to get started anyway. She took out notebooks, sticky notes, pens, and tape from her tote bag. Not having her usual dry-erase board, she opened the closet door and began to tape notes and newspaper articles on the smooth wooden surface.

  She’d been working for a while when someone rang the doorbell. Since Mom and Jason were gone, she sighed heavily and went to answer it. She was surprised to see Sam standing there. He didn’t say hello. Didn’t smile. He just handed her a folder.

  “I never gave this to you. I wasn’t even here.” With that he turned and walked away.

  Kaely watched him get into his car and head down the road. She stepped back inside the house and opened the file. It was full of copies of the original pictures and reports related to the fires.

  Kaely smiled to herself. Now she could really get to work. She headed back to her bedroom and sat down at the desk. She was reading a report from the second fire when her cell phone rang. She picked it up and saw that it was Noah. She smiled and answered.

  “Hey there. What’s going on?”

  “Title III” was all he said.

  “Oh no. I’m sorry.” Wiretaps were usually the most boring assignment an agent could have. “Anything interesting happening?”

  “Well, only if you’re overly concerned about whether you should wear blue socks with a black suit to your aunt Muriel’s funeral. Or if Antonio’s Italian Restaurant uses too much garlic in their marinara sauce.” He sighed. “It’s that import/export business we’ve been working on for so long. I’m listening to their orders, but nothing stands out.”

  “They mostly import from China and South America, right?”

  “Yeah. Clothing, electronics, and toys from China. Smartphone and computers from South America.”

  “Nothing unusual?”

  “Let’s see. . . . Before my mind went completely numb yesterday, a guy named Charles placed a huge order of figurines from China. That’s the most interesting thing that’s happened all week.”

  “Figurines?” Kaely said. “What kind of figurines?”

  “China horses.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line as Kaely ran her hand over her face. She started to say something, but Noah’s loud expletive cut her off.

  “How could I have missed this? China horses. Heroin. I’ve messed up big-time, Kaely.”

  “You’re just tired, Noah. It happens.”

  “No, I’m better than this. Thankful
ly, the shipment hasn’t come in yet. I’ll report it as soon as we get off the phone. Thanks.” He sighed before asking, “How’s small-town life? Are you bored out of your mind yet?”

  “Actually, no. Darkwater has had a series of fires—”

  “Did you say Darkwater?”

  “Yeah. Darkwater, Nebraska.”

  “Wow. Sounds mysterious,” he said. “Whereas Nebraska sounds—”

  “Rather dreary?”

  “A little. You mentioned some fires?”

  Kaely told him about her suspicions that Darkwater had a serial arsonist.

  “Let me get this straight,” Noah said. “I’ve been going stir-crazy and you’re tracking an arsonist. Life just isn’t fair.”

  “Yeah, but now you’re getting ready to bring down a drug cartel. Big stuff.”

  “Sure,” Noah said. “But I missed the signs completely. I needed you to tell me what should have been crystal clear.” He sighed again. “Tell you what, if we’re right, and we expose these guys, I’ll ask for some time off and come to Nebraska to help you. I really think I need to get away for a while, Kaely. I’m just . . . I’m just not myself.”

  Kaely’s heart leaped with excitement at Noah’s offer. She was a little surprised by her reaction, but if she was honest with herself, she’d have to admit she’d missed him over the past few days. A lot.

  “Deal. Write down my mom’s address.” She started rattling off the address, but Noah stopped her.

  “You’re not going to make me share a bedroom with your brother or anything, are you? I don’t do well around—”

  “People?”

  He laughed. “No. Families. I mean, I like mine and everything, but other people’s relatives annoy me.”

  “Don’t worry. There’s a nice bed-and-breakfast not far from my mom’s house. And Darkwater actually has motels. We’ll find someplace where you can hide out from my family.”

  “Good. I have a feeling I might need to.”

  It was Kaely’s turn to laugh. “Now make a note of this address.” She waited while he wrote it down. “Keep me updated,” she said. “I’d love to get another point of view on this thing. Just don’t tell Solomon.”