Despite the apprehension about the letter still swirling in her mind, Maya grinned at Seth’s comment. The man didn’t have an inch of extra padding on him, despite his seemingly insatiable appetite. But, she supposed, he’d work through a lot of calories in his job, and judging from his physique, he worked out on top of running in and out of burning buildings. She’d noticed a makeshift gym at the firehouse, with a treadmill and free weights. It made sense. The job demanded a high level of physical fitness, and with twenty-four hour shifts, having somewhere you could work out right there in the building would help. An image entered her mind: Seth dripping with sweat, lying on his back and heaving the barbell over his head, his biceps bulging and face tightening as he lifted the heavy weight. Her tongue darted out to lick her lip. Damn, had he turned on the heater? The morning was as chilly as the day before, but sitting in the truck, Maya almost panted.
“So you ready to go?” She jumped at the sound of his voice. Seth was sitting in the driver’s seat, twisting slightly to face her, one large hand resting on the wheel. His fingers gently grasped the leather, caressing it as they wrapped around . . . crap. She really had to stop letting her imagination run away with her where he was concerned.
“Umm, yep. Sure.” Her voice was low and husky, and Maya blushed deeply. His gaze stayed on her, forehead crinkling as he took in her words. She closed her eyes, sucking in a breath, her cheeks still burning. Thank God there was no such thing as mind reading.
“Maya? You okay?”
Then again . . .
Her eyes flew open and she pushed herself upright, lifting her head off the headrest she’d smacked it into. “Yep! Yes, good, no, I’m fine. Right as rain.”
He held her gaze, that quizzical look still on his face for a few more seconds, and then it broke and he chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “So, we can get going? I figured we’d go grab breakfast first and then head to Central Records.”
That fucking note. Her good mood evaporated. Looking up anything official was a little too close for Maya after last night’s scare. “Maybe we could start at the library, see if we can find any newspaper articles first?”
Seth turned back to face forward, shifting the car into gear and spinning the wheel. He drove out of the parking lot, angling the car to the left to avoid a large sedan parked near the entrance. “Who the hell left that there?” he muttered. Maya glanced over. A large black BMW sat at the entrance to the parking lot, angled toward the building and half blocking the exit to the road. Weird. Some people paid absolutely no attention.
Seth swung the car back around and merged onto the highway. She took another deep breath and forced the note to the back of her mind. Through the frustrations of the night before and that morning, she’d figured out one thing. She might be in town to get justice for Jesse, but that didn’t mean she had to forgo anything and everything else until it happened. She’d been completely miserable. Maya has been grieving; she still was, but she wasn’t going to let that—or her quest—take over her entire life any longer. Seth made her smile, and if he wanted to take her out for breakfast, then she was going to go and she was going to enjoy herself. Jesse’s smiling face flooded her mind and Maya smiled back. Hers was a little wobbly, but that was okay, too. She could miss her brother, but she wasn’t going to let it consume her any longer. Jesse wouldn’t have wanted that. She’d do right by him, she’d make sure of it, but until that day came, there was French toast—and Seth’s company—to enjoy.
12
Seth
A smile lingered on Seth’s face as he turned the car out onto the highway, heading left and back to Cobb’s diner. Their breakfasts were second to none—well, maybe Meg could beat them—but they sure as hell beat whatever he could scrounge together from the bits and pieces of still-edible stuff at his place, and they certainly beat any of Matt’s “experiments” at the firehouse. They’d been lucky there hadn’t been calls directly after a few of them. If he’d had to climb a ladder or carry someone down the stairs after one particularly impressive concoction involving eggs, hot sauce, and ice cream, Seth was pretty sure he would have lost said breakfast all over the ground. Then there was the bacon with chocolate spread. It took a lot to put Seth off his food, but that had done it.
He turned a corner and glanced over at Maya. She was looking out the window, watching Monroe pass by. It was late enough in the morning that the traffic was lighter, and more people were around than yesterday, carrying on with whatever they had to do that day. He grinned. Unlike the first time they’d met at the firehouse, the sun was even up. He’d been a little concerned when he’d first gotten to the motel that morning. She’d taken awhile to open the door and then had been all flustered as she’d yanked it open. She’d seemed to recover but then minutes later, as he’d opened the car door, she’d retreated, all quiet with a worried look on her face. It bothered him. She’d been fine when he’d dropped her off the night before, happy even. He’d been just about to ask her if something had happened since then, when her face had cleared. She’d insisted everything was okay, and even smiled at him again, and so he’d dropped it. She was bound to be a little up and down with everything she was going through.
Seth leaned over and switched on the radio, keeping the volume low enough that Maya could still talk if she wanted to, but filling the car with enough background noise that she wouldn’t feel obligated. It was a short trip downtown to the diner, but he didn’t want to make her anxious again. They’d have plenty of time to talk over breakfast.
His jaw clenched as his hands tightened on the steering wheel and he flexed his shoulders, trying to force his muscles to relax. Suddenly, he wasn’t feeling like Cobb’s famous waffles anymore. It turned out there was something else that could put Seth off his food: having to be the cause of more upset to Maya. It had only been a few days, but he already cared for her, deeply. It was impossible not to. She had an aura about her, almost a glow, something that drew people to her. And when she smiled, God, it was like the sun had come out from behind a cloud and someone had punched him in the gut, all at once. It lit up her whole face. He’d never seen anything more beautiful.
And now he had to tell her what he’d found at the house the night before.
He had to ask her if her brother had been injured, hurt in ways not caused by the fire—not directly, anyway. He had to force her to think about her brother’s dead body, lying there in the flames. He grimaced, running a hand down his face. There was nothing for it. He just had to hope she’d still let him drive her to the library when they were done. Seth wasn’t sure what he’d do if she told him to get lost. He had to ask the question, and he knew it would hurt her. It sat like a rock in his gut. He could only hope she’d be okay afterward.
He pulled the car up outside the diner and with the morning rush over, managed to find a spot right outside. The diner was a favorite of his and the other firefighters for a reason. Joanne, the owner and cook, kept breakfast running all day—something that was incredibly handy when you worked shifts. Sometimes, after a big night, he was so tired he’d go home and sleep right after his shift and then amble over to Cobb’s for pancakes at three in the afternoon. They tasted good no matter what the time of day.
After putting the vehicle in park, he yanked out his keys and walked swiftly around to Maya’s side of the truck to get to her door before she’d opened it herself. He smiled to himself. He liked being able to do those little things for her. Plus, he got a kick out of the look on her face whenever he did. She’d been surprised as hell the first time he’d held the door open for her and her jaw had just about hit the floor when he’d pulled out her chair. She’d recovered quickly, but her reaction only made him more determined to keep doing it. He didn’t know what kind of assholes she’d dated in the past, but if she was shocked that a man would open the door for her, well, he’d just make sure to smother her in Southern hospitality as long as she’d let him.
He shut the car door after she climbed out and t
hen stepped quickly to catch up and open the diner door, too. Instead of heading toward the couches this time, he guided her toward the tables set up at the front of the restaurant. The soft seats were great when you wanted to melt into them with a coffee or take your time over a leisurely meal, but he figured a table was better that morning. She could put a little distance between them more easily, if that’s what she wanted. That, and he figured Maya would want to be on their way sooner rather than later that morning. The universe must know it, too, as they’d only been seated a few minutes when their server came over, took their order, and then disappeared again, after quickly delivering a complimentary coffee. Seth sat back in his chair, his fingers tapping absently on the table. Should he start slow, bring up something else first and let her lead the conversation, or was it better to just blurt it out, rip it off like a bandage? He had no idea and so tried a middle ground. “So what did you get up to after I dropped you off last night?”
Maya’s eyes dropped to the table and she twisted her napkin in her hands. Damn it. What had he said to make her upset? He wished he knew what was bothering her so he could quit making it worse. He leaned forward, reaching under her chin with one finger and tilting her face up so he could make eye contact with her. “Maya? Are you sure everything’s okay?”
She looked at him and for just a second Seth swore he could see tears swimming in her eyes, but then she blinked and whatever he’d seen was gone. Her face relaxed and she placed her hands back on the table, resting there. “Nothing,” she said. “I looked through my notes again, and found nothing new, as usual.” She made a face, rolling her eyes. “And then gave up and went to sleep.”
He smiled, resisting the urge to reach for her hand. He wasn’t sure she’d appreciate the gesture. She’d been friendly, seemed to enjoy his company, but that was probably all it was. She wasn’t looking for a relationship right now. “Good to hear you slept okay.”
Maya rolled her eyes again, more dramatically this time. “God, no. The bedding at that place, shall we say, leaves a lot to be desired and the walls are a little thin.” She picked up her coffee and took a long draught. “Maybe if I can work out how to break my neighbor’s TV, I’ll get some sleep.”
He watched her carefully. She may act like it was all a big joke, but the tightness of her jaw and the tapping of her fingers on the table told him it bothered her more than she’d ever admit. He’d have to find her somewhere better to stay.
“How about you?” Maya asked.
Seth froze. What did he do last night? “Uhh . . .” He still had no idea how he was going to start the conversation. Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—well, breakfast—as their server arrived with their food. The next thirty minutes were filled with the clinking of cutlery, taps of glassware and coffee mugs on the table, and small talk. Maya seemed happy to chat about anything other than the fire, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to bring it up over French toast and bacon.
“So you work one on, two off?”
He nodded. “Yep. I’m back on tomorrow morning, 0700 for twenty-four hours.”
She grimaced around a sip of coffee. “And I’ve taken up nearly every minute of your days off. I’m sorry.”
He smiled. “It’s okay, Maya. I wanted to do it.”
Her eyes rolled skyward again. “Sure, and your chief ordering you to had nothing to do with it.”
Time to put that notion right out of her head. “Maya, look at me.” She took her time, but her gaze finally met his. “Alex—Chief Stone—may have told me to take you through the judge’s house, sure, but visiting Meg, staying for lunch”—he gestured over their table—“this. I’m doing this because I want to. I want to be here. I want to help you.” Damn. Her gaze wavered away from his again as a gorgeous blush colored her cheeks. Time to reel it back. “Besides, I get Joanne’s breakfast out of it. Can’t do better than that.”
Maya returned his smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it all the same. I’m thankful I have people like you and Liam who are willing to share your expertise with me.”
That time it was his smile that dropped away. “Uhh, Maya, about that.” He paused, taking in a deep breath. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.” She blinked, her fingers tapping on the table double time. Seth couldn’t resist any longer, reaching his hand over and laying it over hers, stilling the movement. Here went nothing. “Last night, after I dropped you off, I went back to the house.”
“Why?” she asked, her voice soft. Her brow furrowed even as her lips pressed together, but she didn’t pull her hand away. He’d take it.
“After what Liam said yesterday, there was something bugging me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I didn’t want to say anything to you until I had something more concrete, and so I went back to see if I could figure it out.”
Maya leaned forward in her chair, her hand tightening around his. Was she even aware she was doing it? “And?”
“And what I saw confirmed my suspicions. Maya, the fire had multiple points of origin, we already knew that. What we didn’t know was in what order they were set.”
Her brow furrowed and she finally pulled her hand away. “I don’t understand.”
He set his jaw, a muscle ticking along his temple. “Certain types of fires, and accelerant usage, can leave patterns. Even when most of the scene is destroyed by the flames, you can still see enough. I can’t tell for sure without a proper examination of the scene, which may not even be possible after so much time has passed.” He ran a hand through his hair, half to stop his hand from tapping his own frustrations on the table. “Even if we could, I highly doubt anything would stand up in court. But Maya, the patterns in the judge’s house indicate that the last fire set was right by the front door.”
He kept his eyes on her, watching the emotions fly over her face. Her eyebrows shot up, then her head tilted as his words seemed to filter through her mind. She scowled and her foot started up the rhythm from her fingers, then her eyes widened. There it was. “But Jesse was upstairs when the fire was set. Wasn’t he?”
Seth’s face was grim. “That’s exactly what I’d like to know. From what you said, Jesse seemed like he had his head on straight. Why would he run back into a fire he’d set?”
Maya’s head was shaking back and forth, her fingers that had been tapping out her frustrations now developing a fine tremor. “He wouldn’t.” She looked up at him with wounded eyes. “He wouldn’t, unless there was someone inside who needed his help.” Those brilliant blue eyes shone with tears and Seth’s heart wrenched. He hated to be the one doing this to her, no matter how much Maya had said this was something she wanted. “If someone needed help, then Jesse was there, you know.” She sniffled. “He would have given you the shirt off his back if he thought it would help you.” She swiped angrily at the unshed tears. “That’s why this is all such a load of crap. If he’d been there and died trying to help someone, now that I’d believe!”
Her words sent a shiver down Seth’s spine, like cold fingers had wrapped around it, chilling his bones. Was Maya right? Had she known the answer all along—something that no one had considered? It still didn’t answer why he hadn’t made it out. Seth reached forward and brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes and another tear away. He let his hand linger ever so slightly on her cheek. Damn, it felt good to touch her, to be there for her. “Maya, was your brother injured at all? Apart from the fire, I mean.”
She shook her head. “No. Jesse prided himself on his fitness.” Maya shrugged. “And, you know, it was pretty much required for the job.”
He frowned. “I mean from the fire, or whatever happened before. Could there be a reason why Jesse wasn’t moving as fast as he usually could, or he wasn’t strong enough to make it down the stairs again?”
Her face clouded, her voice quaking. “I don’t understand.”
Here went nothing. “Did the autopsy report mention any other injuries beyond the burns?” He cringed, hating himself eve
n as he asked. Maya hadn’t even been able to go into the room where her brother had died, his body long gone, and now he was asking her to picture his charred corpse.
Her hand dropped away. “I don’t know,” Maya said, her voice dropping to barely a whisper.
“I’m sure someone else can read the report,” Seth said. “You don’t have to do that.”
She looked up. “Seth, you don’t understand. I don’t know because there is no autopsy report.”
13
Maya
Maya watched as Seth’s shoulders jerked, eyebrows rising. “You don’t have an autopsy report?” She shook her head. “There has to be one.” His hands gripped the coffee mug. “A suspected arson case where the Feds are involved. It would be practically impossible for an autopsy not to be done. It has to be somewhere.”
Maya slumped back in her seat, the adrenaline from moments before draining away. “I don’t know what to tell you, Seth. I’ve looked through those papers so many times I know them by heart. There’s no medical examiner report.”
His mouth firmed into a fine line. “There is. Somewhere. There has to be.” He stood, pushing away from the table. “Are you done?”
Maya nodded, frowning at the sudden change in him. He’d been attentive that morning, caring, even, although it was clear he was nervous about something by the way his thigh had jiggled up and down as he drove to the diner. She’d noticed the movement in the corner of her eye and glanced downward, only to get stuck there, her gaze roaming over his lower body. She’d forced her eyes back up when she realized she’d been staring at the rather impressive bulge between his thighs for too long. God, he was a big boy, even relaxed. She’d spent the rest of the trip looking out the window, her mind ping-ponging between fantasies of what a relationship with Seth would be like—hell, what one night with him would be, and then remembering the note shoved under her door and why any of that was a complete impossibility. It had been only minutes before that she’d decided that she was going to see where this was going, but the reality of actually trying? That scared her more than she wanted to admit.
Trial by Fire (Southern Heat Book 4) Page 7