The perp was meticulous enough to leave no trace. Maybe that was why he kept the scenes small. Contained by circular gas, and only enough to burn for so long.
Had that last fire just been a miscalculation of how close and how dry the brush had been?
His instincts said not.
The way the crime scenes and damages were escalating, if he didn’t uncover the arsonist soon, he could find himself at a scene that included household damage and loss of human life. He was not going to let that happen.
Certainly not because he’d given a sample of his DNA to a lab technician.
He was far more professional than that.
* * *
ON MONDAY NIGHT Faye had to ask Suzie to sit with Elliott. There was a fire and she was on call. Brandt had told her it was another gasoline fire when he’d called her in.
What she didn’t know was that the fire was within blocks of the Santa Raquel hospital. It was set in a dirt parking lot, in a larger radius than ever before.
No one was hurt, including the crew putting out the blaze.
Less chance of brush catching fire there, but the gasoline circle ended just feet from a gas line. There could have been an explosion.
“Do you think he knew about the gas line?” Brandt asked Reese as the crew surveyed the damage. They’d had to use water to extinguish the fire. Reese’s crime scene was fairly well washed out.
“If he did, he deliberately stopped before he got to it” was all Reese would commit to.
While he and Brandt went over the scene, Faye stood back. Watching the man who’d once been her whole life.
Was he also the father of her son?
They wouldn’t know until Wednesday.
Would it hurt him if he found out that he wasn’t? Deep down? In that place he was trying so desperately to hide from her?
He had good reasons. She wasn’t going to occupy it. She had no business going there.
And yet...
Watching him at work, knowing that if there had been a danger of explosion, Reese would have been the one on the front line, she could no longer pretend that she didn’t care.
No longer pretend she didn’t want him.
Right up until the part where he actually touched her, that was.
Remembering how she’d instinctively pushed Reese back when he’d tried to pull her closer, she turned away from watching him. She had no right even thinking about him like that when she knew that she couldn’t deliver.
He’d talked about not setting false expectations. She’d dismissed that as unrealistic for a possible future with Elliott.
But perhaps Reese had had the right idea.
Perhaps she needed to listen more to what he said. And to the things he didn’t say.
If she’d done so in the past, perhaps she’d have known they had a problem before he’d stood her up to ask out another girl.
Duly noted. Faye went to the truck to wait for her ride back to the station.
* * *
WHEN REESE SAW the call come through to his private line at the station from The Lemonade Stand the next day, he answered immediately.
Only a non-911 emergency would bring forth such a call.
“Chief Bristow?” The childish voice set him back in his seat.
An emergency...or the child to whom he’d given that private number.
“Elliott? Is that you?”
Could the boy somehow know that Reese had spent the past twenty-four hours bonding with him in spite of himself? Mentally becoming a father overnight even though he might never be one?
It was the curse Faye put on him. He knew that. She’d planted the seed that he was going to change. That he had more going on than a test, even if it turned out Elliott wasn’t his.
Damn her for saying so.
He’d never be having these thoughts otherwise.
“You said that I could have a tour of a fire engine, sir.”
The boy’s tone sounded more assertive than questioning.
“I did. Yes.”
“I’d like it today,” he said. And then, in a softer voice added, “Please.” And then, “Sir.”
“Elliott, does anyone know you’re making this call?”
“No, sir. You told me I could just call this number and talk to you and no one would have to know.” Another small pause. “Sir.”
Stop with the “sirs” already. He held his tongue on what he’d have said naturally. Trying to figure out what to do. He had told the boy he could call in complete confidence, but he’d been referring to Elliott calling about those matches. Or anything he might have heard about a fire.
“Have you talked to your mother about the engine tour?”
“You said I could have it, not her.”
“But she has to be willing to bring you here.”
“She will.”
“We haven’t set up a time yet.”
“But can we?”
“How do you know she won’t already have something planned?”
“She don’t do nothing except work and take me places.”
He wanted to talk to Elliott about that. About the way the boy talked about Faye as though she owed him. This conversation was not the time.
“Please, sir. We...um...had a deal.”
The “um” had him sitting up straight. The first time Elliott had called, he’d said it a lot. But that day on the beach, he hadn’t said it as much. Only when he was uncomfortable.
Something the boy did when he was nervous? Or afraid?
Or was Reese overanalyzing because he thought he might be a parent? Could he take that chance?
“Do you have something to tell me, Elliott?”
“You told me you’d give me a tour of the fire engine.”
Was this a test? A kid who felt the need to check up on the adults in his life? A natural inclination toward doubt?
Did he need to know that Reese would keep his word? Or did he just want a fire engine tour?
He went with the latter because it made the most sense.
“Your mom is working today. I’ll arrange something with her,” he said, and then, in spite of himself, added, “Because, Elliott, your mother’s time and her opinion come first. You got that?”
“I guess so.”
He thought not.
* * *
FAYE WAS JUST helping herself to a Crock-Pot sloppy joe when Reese came into the kitchen. It was the first time either of them had entered the room upon seeing the other already there.
It wasn’t like the crew all sat around one big happy table together. Sometimes everyone on shift ate at once but not often. There were jobs to do, schedules to keep and a lot of guys went home for lunch.
When Reese came in, she was the only one there. She knew he’d already eaten because she’d seen him sitting at the table when she’d come for lunch half an hour earlier.
“I was looking for you,” Reese said, easily enough.
He didn’t have results. She knew that, though it was the first thought that ran through her mind. She was the one who’d get the call, as they’d prearranged.
And he seemed too...open.
There was no doubt in her mind, no matter how the results came back, that Reese was going to shut down upon hearing them.
“What do you need?” she asked, licking her finger after setting her bun on the paper plate.
Reese wasn’t answering so she looked up at him. Saw him staring at her tongue on her hand. And got instantly turned on.
For a second there the idea of making love with him on the table flashed through her mind.
And then she grew up.
And cooled down. Opening the refrigerator door, she got a bottle of water to drink with lunc
h.
“I was wondering if we could schedule Elliott’s fire engine tour this afternoon.”
Whatever she’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that.
“I guess,” she said. She didn’t want to see him and Elliott together yet, but she didn’t have a legitimate reason to say no. “I can bring him here instead of taking him home when I go pick him up, but then I’ll need another break to take him home.”
She usually split her lunch hour to do the twice-a-day run to the Stand and home. Suzie had offered to take Elliott back and forth, but she thought it important that she do it herself—to stay in touch with Elliott’s moods. To know if he was scared or upset before or after school. To be sure that he knew that she loved him first and foremost.
“Fine. What time is that?”
“Three today.” Other days it was four. She could leave him there as long as she needed to if she was out on a call.
“I’ll be ready.” He turned and walked out.
Faye tossed her sandwich into the trash and went to work out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WEDNESDAY MORNING ARRIVED. Up before his alarm, as usual, Reese showered, put on pants and a polo shirt, and ate his cereal.
Faye might get a call from the lab that day. She might not.
Either way, his life wasn’t going to change.
He’d get up every morning before his alarm. He’d shower. And he’d choose between peanut butter toast and cereal for breakfast.
There’d been no big revelation with Elliott’s visit to the station the day before. He’d had Mark do the tour because Mark was the equipment manager and knew everything in the truck as well as anyone. Everyone joked that the trucks were Mark’s.
Faye had gone to the video room to watch a training video and then mark off a minor continuing education requirement with some reading and a quiz online.
Reese had just been...available. In case Elliott had had some ulterior motive for arranging the tour for himself.
But he’d been right after all. The boy just wanted to see the fire truck.
There’d been no psychic bonding. No heartstrings. Just a kid who had a thing for fire trucks.
He got that.
Accepted it.
Liked it, even.
It made Elliott a normal kid, and it let Reese off the hook.
He wasn’t at the station ten minutes on Wednesday when his private line rang. His heart sank, then started a rapid tattoo. It was a little early for the lab to have called but not impossible.
He assumed Faye would use his private line rather than come into his office. They were both working Wednesday, though he didn’t think she’d arrived yet.
Staring at that ringing phone, he knew he didn’t want to talk to Faye in person. If he didn’t answer, she might come in...
“Chief Bristow.”
“Sir?” He recognized the child’s voice immediately.
“Where are you, Elliott?”
“At...um...the phone by the cafeteria. The one where you dial 9 before you can call.”
He was at The Lemonade Stand. Which was, to Reese’s knowledge, just where he should be.
“Are you okay?”
Of course he was. He was at a shelter where people were paid to keep him safe. A lot of people.
“Yes. Sara’s over there watching me. I asked her could I use the phone and she brought me here. I told her it was private and she went over there.”
He felt relief for Sara’s help, and then stopped himself. He was acting like he had some kind of personal connection to the boy’s care.
He didn’t. Not even if he had a biological connection.
“Do you have something you need to tell me?” he asked, summoning his fire chief voice.
“Yes.”
He sat forward. Picked up a pen but didn’t reach for anything to write on. He’d had a hunch the day before...
“Is that why you called me to get a tour of the engine yesterday?”
“You said a deal is a deal.”
And if there was no deal, then that just made Elliott a snitch. Suddenly he understood.
He’d have thought the same thing. Sometimes a guy had to do things he wasn’t proud of in one sense so he found a way to do it and still be okay with himself.
“That’s right,” Reese said now. “So if you know something, you have to tell me. You’ve had your tour.”
“I know, sir. So I asked Sara could I call you.”
“You did the right thing, my man.” Reese shook his head, told himself to reel it in. He was not going to change.
Sure as hell wasn’t going to become some kind of sap.
It was a DNA test. Biology. His life was not going to change either way.
Frank Walker was probably Elliott’s father. And Reese was still the fire chief the kid had called because they had a deal.
“You going to tell me what you know?” he asked when the boy didn’t say anything more.
“I know something about that fire that happened by the hospital. But I can’t tell you what. You just said I had to call and tell you if I know something, so I did. Bye.”
The phone went dead.
Reese dropped his pen.
* * *
FAYE WASN’T EVEN at the station yet when Reese’s name came up on her smartphone. Loving how eager he was to hear if there was any news, she answered immediately.
“I haven’t heard anything yet.”
“What? Oh, that. I’m not calling about lab tests, Faye. I need your permission to go to the Stand and speak with Elliott.”
Her heart sank.
“He knows something about the serial arsonist.”
“How do you know that?”
“I can’t tell you right now. I gave my word I wouldn’t say anything. But I need to speak with him. Now.”
“Do you think he’s in any danger?”
“Not while he’s at the Stand.”
He sounded so...businesslike. And he was scaring her. Thinking of the fire Elliott had set in the boy’s bathroom trash can, she got more agitated.
“You don’t think...there’s no way Elliott has anything to do with those fires, Reese. He’s been home in bed every single time one was set. Or at least home in his pajamas.”
“I’m not accusing him of anything, Faye. I just need to talk to him.”
“I don’t like it. He sets a fire and now you’re talking to him...”
“He knows something. The longer I spend talking to you instead of getting to him, the longer it will be before we’ll have some answers.”
We’ll have some answers.
She hated the weak moment but loved that she wasn’t rushing back to the Stand to deal with this one herself. She reminded herself that she didn’t have to carry the whole world alone.
“Please, by all means, speak with him. I’ll call right now and let Lila know you’ll need to have him taken out of class...”
“He’s with Sara right now. I’m hoping to get to him while they are still in session. I have a hunch it might be better if none of the other kids know he’s talking to me.”
Right. She’d known Elliott had his regular weekly session with Sara that morning. She was just off her game. Waiting.
Wondering...
Sara had been planning to talk to Elliott about his father—Frank, for now. To see if she could get Elliott to open up more about his feelings about his father—and how they reflected on him. It was natural Elliott would love his dad. And considering what he knew of his father, that love could make him feel like there was something wrong with him.
Because as far as Elliott knew he was Frank’s son.
That he loved a bad man because he was that bad man’s son and therefore
like him.
“Fine. I’ll let Lila know. They can keep him in Sara’s office until you get there,” she said, feeling a headache coming on.
There were so many possibilities. So many theories. About everything.
She needed facts.
And plans.
And then life would settle into something she could live with.
* * *
REESE GOT BUBKES.
So much for his life changing. So much for any wayward thoughts he might have entertained during the night about his ability to get through to a troubled kid.
Half an hour with Elliott and the kid had told him nothing.
He’d said he’d call and say if he knew something and he had. He wasn’t saying where he got his matches. Wasn’t saying what he knew about the fire.
Or even who he knew it about.
On a hunch, Reese checked up on Kyle’s activities over the past couple of days but the kid hadn’t left the Stand at all in almost a week.
He and his mother had had one visitor, a family member.
Kyle got good grades, followed the rules, helped out with the younger kids whenever he could, even did dishes after every meal and helped his mother with the laundry.
The kid had also talked Elliott into playing basketball again.
He was still so disgusted with his unproductive afternoon as he did code inspections, that he didn’t give a thought to his phone ringing.
Until he saw Faye’s number come up.
After the uncomfortable edge he’d experienced when his phone had rung first thing that morning, he’d determined that he’d best not be in the office for the rest of the day.
He wasn’t going to be a sitting duck when he heard whether or not he was going to be a father.
A biological father, he amended, thinking of his bubkes.
Sitting in his truck outside the construction site he’d just visited, he let the phone ring. Thought about not answering.
The news wasn’t going to change whether he heard it then or later.
Hands shaking and sweaty, he stared at her name on his caller ID.
Faye.
He couldn’t not answer her.
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