Hot Water

by Maggie Toussaint

  As she dished up bowls of shrimp and grits, she directed him to the table for two in her kitchen. The eastern exposure here made morning meals pleasant, though this time of day long shadows stretched across her backyard flower garden. Would Wyatt be here in the morning? Another kiss like that one, and she’d make him stay over.

  The front door banged. Wyatt shot her an inquiring look from his chair. “My dog,” she said. “I leave the screen unlatched so he can come and go at will.”

  “Must be inconvenient in mosquito season.”

  She shrugged and carried two steaming bowls to the table. “It’s always insect season around here. You get used to it.”

  He nodded. “This smells great.”

  She glanced around the table, taking in the glasses of water, silverware, and napkins. She’d put the pie in the oven before she served up the simple meal, so all was ready.

  “Thought you might enjoy local cuisine. This dish is a coastal staple.”

  “Can’t say as I ever had shrimp and grits, but if it tastes as good as it smells, I’m a fan.”

  With pleasure, she watched him consume his portion and ask for more. She laughed at his jokes and returned his smiles as he finished a second helping. He was good company.

  She could get used to having him around.

  How long did they have? A day? A week?

  She felt like she was living on borrowed time where he was concerned.

  He came here for the arson investigation. Not for you. You’re supposed to keep him safe, not map out his love life.

  “About your investigation,” she ventured. “How long before you conclude your stay here?”

  “Trying to get rid of me?”

  Trust her to put him on the defensive. “That came out wrong. What I meant is you’ve been to the scene, you’ve taken samples, what makes you think the arsonist is still here?”

  “He’s not somewhere else.”

  “And you know this because?”

  “He starts fires in different locations, and his routine to date is a new fire every month or so. The arsonist is someone who travels semi-regularly, but mostly in the state of Georgia. The fires are rarely in the same place or town, suggesting that his route varies.”

  “Is he a traveling salesman? Do they even have those anymore?”

  “Sales people have territories, but they tend to run in the same ruts through time. This serial arsonist ranges from lowlands to the mountains, from thinly populated to isolated. Typically he burns a structure that’s old or abandoned, which is how he didn’t attract notice at first. Those fires weren’t big enough to catch the state’s attention. When bodies started turning up in the fires, we tuned into him, big-time. That’s when we discovered his preference for candles and dryer sheets.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “He soaks the place in gasoline. Then he places his fire starting materials in a paper cup. In this case, a candle and dryer sheets. The candle burns down, ignites the dryer sheets, which then ignite the gasoline. This guy is smart.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “Sometimes I feel like this guy is a ghost seeing as how his locations are so random. Can you help me out with something?”

  “Sure.”

  “What kind of intermittent employment do folks have around here?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Very serious.” He pulled a small notepad and pen out of his pants pocket.

  She eyed the notepad with suspicion. She was supposed to help him, but at the same time tattle on her friends and neighbors? “I can’t believe anyone around here would be industrious enough to wreak havoc all over the state. It’s like pulling teeth to get most locals to cross the county line.”

  “But some do. They work in Brunswick or Savannah. Some have other jobs.”

  “Bubba Hulsey runs a big rig for a trucking company out of Jacksonville. He takes loads all over the country.”

  “Probably not him. Keep going.”

  “Our shrimpers with young families. The season is closed between January and June. They’ll work odd jobs in the interim. Painting. Yard work. Construction. Anything to put food on their table.”

  “How many shrimpers you talking about?”

  “Half a dozen or so. The rest of ’em have a little age on them and talk about getting work but don’t follow through.”

  “Doesn’t sound likely, but I’ll check it out. Their names?”

  Feeling like a traitor, she provided the names. Since Wyatt had found her place without directions, she didn’t volunteer to look up their phone numbers or addresses.

  “Keep going.”

  “I don’t know who else. Wait. There’s a kid in pharmacy school. She comes home to visit her hundred year old great grandmother about every three or four weeks.”

  “Name?”

  “Ashley Lutrell, but she’s a scholarship kid. Smart as a whip.”

  “Gotta check out all the leads. What else you got?”

  “Woolsey over at the paper goes to press meetings all over the state. But that’s quarterly or so. My friend Roxie and her fiancé travel back and forth to Atlanta a lot.”

  “I’ll check them out but neither of those leads sounds likely. What I’m looking for is someone who marches to their own beat. Perhaps they don’t do well with authority figures. They are good at going under the radar and don’t generally attract attention. Some arsonists seek attention, but this guy, he burrows into anonymity after each fire. I think he’s from a small town.”

  “Like Mossy Bog?”

  “Just like Mossy Bog. Can you think of anyone else who comes and goes at will? Maybe he has some recurring temporary employment.”

  “The only person I can think of like that is my cousin. He has a buddy with a moving van in the next county. Mostly does across town moves. But when Jimmy gets out-of-town business, he hires Lester.”

  As he wrote her cousin’s name in the notebook, her breath hitched. “Lester is a good person. He’s leaving with my dad to go upstate on a fishing trip in the morning. I’d know if he was a bad person.”

  “Does he like fires?”

  “He taught me how to build a fire, but my dad taught him. Lester had a little trouble as a teen, but he’s been behaving ever since.”

  “Tell me about the trouble.”

  Under the table, she gripped and regripped her hands. “I feel awful talking about my family like this. Lester is like a brother to me. He was here a few hours ago with my dad, both of them checking up on me. He’s not a serial anything. He can’t keep a steady job, though God knows he’s had enough of them. Aunt Bessie is the problem. She’s let him have his way his entire life. No rules. No limitations.”

  “I’d like to speak to your aunt.”

  “She has a blind-spot that’s a nautical mile wide where he’s concerned. But he’s a screw-up. I can’t see him as a fire mastermind. That would take too much effort.”

  “Be that as it may, I need to check out all leads.”

  The oven timer went off. She rose, glad for the interruption. “My pie’s ready. Would you like ice cream on yours?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She savored the nutmeg and cinnamon of the pie and tried to calm her scattered nerves. Ratting out her fellow citizens was one thing, but Lester was family. Her father would never forgive her if anything happened to his favorite nephew. All she could do was hope and pray Wyatt’s check on him came up clean.

  Her guilty thoughts refused to settle. She’d done her job by helping Wyatt.

  That should feel good.

  But it didn’t.

  It felt awful.

  Chapter 19

  Laurie Ann couldn’t help herself. Despite Wyatt’s company, she got lost in her thoughts over dessert. She’d betrayed family confidences for her job. Now she felt dirty, and she didn’t like that one bit. No matter how she justified her actions, she kept coming back to that sense of betrayal.

  Worse, she was aware of Wyatt’s searchin
g looks as she scooped the last bit of melted ice cream off her plate. He probably thought he’d get laid tonight, and now she wanted to get shed of him as soon as possible. The sheen had definitely faded from the evening.

  Boyfriends weren’t so thick on the ground that she could throw them away, if that’s even what Wyatt was. But she needed time to process her thoughts, to recompartmentalize her family life from her job. A long, private soak in the tub would do the trick.

  Wyatt rose and gathered their dishes. When she protested, he shot her a sexy grin. “You cooked. I’ll clean up.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to.”

  “Thanks.” The dishwasher door creaked open. She’d been meaning to oil those hinges. Plates clinked. Silverware clattered. Water ran. She enjoyed the sounds of activity for a moment before she rose and started putting the leftovers away.

  He seemed at ease in her kitchen. “You’ve done this before,” she said.

  “Six kids in my family. You better believe we had lots of dishes. Two dishwashers in our kitchen.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “You’re kidding.”

  “It’s the gospel truth. You know how plate sets come in groups of eight? We had three sets in hopes we could get through a day without having to run the dishwashers twice. For some reason, that was my Mom’s sticking point. As the oldest, dishes fell to me in the early years.”

  Sometimes Laurie Ann let her dirty dishes slide a day or two. That wouldn’t be possible in the North family. “I can’t imagine what it was like with so many people in your house.”

  “Virgil wanted whatever I had, still does for that matter. Morgan was always figuring stuff out. You’d think he wasn’t paying attention and then he’d have it done and move on to something else. Allie and Virginia were thick as thieves, and we tormented them for being girls. The baby of the family, Clanton, knows how to get whatever he wants out of all of us.”

  Clanton sounded like a piece of work. “How did your parents cope with all the confusion?”

  He wiped out the sink and closed the dishwasher. “Dad worked longer hours. Mom hired help to keep order in our house.”

  “Sounds like a lot of chaos and fun.”

  He leaned against the island opposite of where she stood with her arms barred across her chest. “It was. The nice thing is my parents didn’t try to fit us into a mold. Each of us was encouraged to figure out who we were and what we wanted.”

  She thought about that. Wyatt seemed to be a loner like she was. The confusion must have been difficult for him. It would have made her certifiable. “Must have been awkward for you with Virgil always breathing down your neck.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” He reached over and took her hand. “It’s been a long day, and I plan to interview people tomorrow and I’d like to do another site visit. How about if you walk me to my truck?”

  Laurie Ann hoped the relief she felt didn’t show. Her fingers tightened around his. “Sounds good.”

  At the front door, her tabby blocked their way, mewing pitifully. In the distance, a dog barked. “I’ll feed you in a minute, Punkin,” she said, but the cat followed her down the porch steps, mewing still. What was that about? Her cat was as independent as they came. Mouthy, yes, but not the type to follow her anywhere.

  Wyatt stopped by his truck. “I enjoyed the evening. The food was the best I’ve ever tasted. Tomorrow’s dinner is on me. By the way, I really like your place.”

  Her angst faded. A smile crossed her lips. “You keep saying nice things, and I might be tempted to keep you around.”

  He stepped in so that his heat enveloped her in a warm hug. “Let me sweeten the pot.” With that, he swept her in his arms for another mind-drugging kiss.

  Her arms tightened around his neck. She didn’t understand what was happening to her, to them, but at the moment, kissing him was all that mattered. Sensations showered her thoughts. The rapid flutter of her pulse. The heady scent of him, all man and sea breeze and decadent dessert. The comingled heat of their bodies. The cascade of tingles running down her spine like a kid on a sugar high.

  Her thoughts misted as she leaned into him, yielding and demanding. His heart thundered against hers. When he ended the kiss, she made a soft sound in her throat, not ready to be done with him.

  “You are amazing.” His lips nuzzled the side of her neck.

  Amazing. How thrilling. How sexy. No one had ever called her that. She had the power and the training to wrestle him to the ground and have her way with him, but she’d much rather let this develop naturally.

  “This is amazing,” she managed. “It felt like time stopped when we kissed. I’ve never experienced that before.”

  He lifted her chin. “I don’t need any encouragement to stay, but earlier I got the impression from you that the evening was over.”

  Starlight and heat twinkled in his eyes. She could invite him to stay the night, and given the chemistry between them, the sex would be great. But she needed to simplify things right now, not make them more complicated. Sleeping with him would add another layer of complexity.

  With a sigh, she took a step back. “You were right. I am attracted to you, but tonight is not a good time for me.”

  “Don’t play games with me, Laurie Ann. That’s all I ask.”

  That dog was still barking in the woods. What was that all about? “Got news for you. I don’t know how to play those kinds of games. With me, what you see is what you get.”

  “I want to see more of you, but I can’t make any guarantees about a relationship. You’re not a one-night-stand kind of woman. I respect that.”

  Was he for real? “You must have women all over the state.”

  “I don’t. I’ve been in exactly two serious relationships, and they both ended badly. With my job and travel schedule, I’m not a reliable boyfriend.”

  “I get the picture.” She stopped again. The timbre of the barking dog changed. It sounded frightened. “You hear that?”

  “The dog?”

  “Yeah. I don’t have neighbors close by. The nearest dog lives several miles away.”

  “What about Gabby?”

  “He’s around here somewhere. I remember him heading outside during dinner.”

  “Call him.”

  She did. Over and over again. No three-legged dog ran out of the dark flowerbeds. Was he in trouble? Her hands trembled to think of him fallen into a hole. He’d gotten trapped before in the briars, and she hadn’t found him until morning. He’d been a quivering bundle of nerves. She wouldn’t let him down again.

  “I’m going to look for him.”

  “I’ll help.”

  “Come back inside, then. It’s best to tape your pants legs to your socks with duct tape. I’ll get a flashlight while we’re at it.”

  He opened his truck. “Good idea with the tape. Give me a sec, though to put on my boots and grab my flashlight.”

  Laurie Ann hurried about her preparations, not knowing quite what to do with Wyatt. Having him follow her around in the woods might slow her down, but it was nice having his company.

  Nice or necessary?

  She couldn’t quite answer that one.

  Chapter 20

  The woods were dark and thick. Wyatt wished he’d thought to bring his helmet and headlight as well as his flashlight. No telling what was out here in these woods. Bears. Wildcats. Poisonous snakes.

  He followed Laurie Ann’s long-legged strides and quickly lost sight of the house. He was pretty good with orienteering, but in deep woods like this, he couldn’t see the stars. Without a compass, he was totally reliant on her sense of direction.

  Being at a disadvantage made him edgy. It made him feel like someone was watching them. “You know where we’re going?”

  She ducked under a low hanging branch. “I’ve got a good idea.”

  He ducked and straightened. “This has happened before?”

  “A time or two. See, Gabby thinks he’s as capable as any dog.
He chases something, and that’s the only thing that registers in his head.”

  “Is he lost?”

  “Stuck, most likely.”

  An owl hooted in the distance. A mosquito bore into his neck. He slapped it and glanced down at the bloody smear on his hand. Without warning, his thoughts spun back to that day. The day Bobby’s blood had smeared his hands. The day he’d lost his best friend. Since then, he’d chased the arsonist all over the state, always a day or two behind. This time he wouldn’t get away.

  “Doing okay back there?” Laurie Ann asked. “You’re not saying much.”

  He shone his light on a linear object edging off the deer path they were following. Black snake. He was glad he’d put on his fire boots. “I’m here.”

  The dog’s barks sounded nearer. More mosquitoes buzzed his head. He swatted at them. For an evening that began with such promise, it sure had gone south in a hurry.

  “I’m sorry I forgot bug spray before we left,” Laurie Ann said. “My overshirt has repellant built right in. I was in such a hurry to rescue Gabby that I wasn’t thinking of anything else.”

  The barking dog sounded much closer. “I’ve endured worse.” The path widened, and he lengthened his strides to walk beside her.

  He was very aware of her feminine scent, of the way her hips swayed when she walked, of the alluring column of her neck. If he kept thinking about kissing her, he would be in serious discomfort for the rest of their walk in the woods.

  Laurie Ann stopped. “Here we are.” Both flashlight beams played over a thick bramble of vines. Gabby lay in the center of the briars, his fur and face bloody with his struggles to free himself. A small ball lay nearby.

  Laurie Ann knelt by the briars and took out a pair of snippers. “What were you thinking, Gabster? Playing ball in the woods at night is not a sport for three-legged dogs. Some hungry gator could’ve come along and had you for a midnight snack.”

  The dog whined pitifully and quit barking. Wyatt helped widen the opening in the tangled briars. Gators. And he’d been worried about bears, wildcats, and snakes. Lots of perils to consider on the Georgia coast.