Backburn

by Brandy L Rivers

  “I never should have.”

  “You were down when she finally did leave,” Gavin said.

  Metcalf winced. “Only because she took my son across the fucking country.”

  “Always wondered why you didn’t follow them.”

  “Didn’t think I could handle the big city. Besides, Brett would only move again. Asshole is convinced I’ll try to steal Jeanette back. After what she did, I wouldn’t touch her if she were the last woman on Earth. I only stayed as long as I did for Ashton. And had the paternity test come back negative, I would have left in a heartbeat.”

  Gavin’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head. “You thought Ashton might not be yours?”

  “I’m almost positive she was fucking Brett before the separation. And I know she was during it.”

  “Sorry I talked you into taking her back. Things could have been different if we stayed out of it.”

  “Doubtful. She shut me down hard.”

  “And last night went better?”

  “Yeah, until she got a call. Shit, last night I woke up in a panic.”

  “Why?”

  He rubbed at his head. “Marissa’s ringtone is a damned siren.”

  “Shit, that’s morbid.”

  He laughed. “If I wasn’t such a mess I’d find it amusing. Not to mention last night was the best sleep I can remember in I don’t know how long. I didn’t want to let her go.”

  “Why do you sound like you did?”

  He groaned. “The call was about Enrique being in the hospital.”

  “Oh. You going to see her again?”

  “Hope so. I don’t want this to be a dirty secret. I don’t feel broken with her.”

  “Tell her what you want. I saw you two last night. Cadence and I had date night and were surprised to find you two so cozy playing pool.”

  “Shit, please tell her not to say anything to anyone for the moment. I don’t want to scare Marissa off before I can prove I want more than one night. And she’s worried about what Isandro will say.”

  “My lips are sealed. And I’ll text Cadence. Hopefully you won’t have to keep the secret long. In this firehouse, that’s not likely.”

  The bells rang, and Metcalf groaned. “Duty calls.”

  * * * *

  Marissa paid for lunch while Brian started the cruiser. She slid into the seat in time for dispatch to send them to a fire. There was a report of someone fleeing the scene.

  “Arson?” Brian asked. “Wasn’t the last four years ago?”

  She couldn’t forget, especially after being with Metcalf again. The last one sent him down a road of horrors and pain. The fire stayed with him, causing PTSD. He’d come through that, but she saw the terror in his eyes when he first woke up the night before. She hadn’t heard of any panic attacks in a couple years, but those could come at any time.

  They pulled up outside the fire.

  Marissa froze in her seat, staring at the home. Metcalf had lived there with his wife and kid. And the house he was shot in was just a few houses down.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” She climbed out of the car, hoping to dodge the question completely. Until she figured out what was between them, she wasn’t ready to share.

  She hurried to the fire chief. Ramirez stood next to the truck, watching the building.

  “That’s Metcalf’s old home, right?”

  One brow arched as he turned toward her.

  “How do you know he lived here?”

  “I’m observant, and my brother has worked with him for years.”

  “Mmhmm,” he muttered, then shrugged. “I told him he didn’t have to. The fire was raging. He went in anyway.”

  “He knows what he can handle.” At least she hoped he did. She’d witnessed a couple of his panic attacks in the beginning, and she hoped like hell that wouldn’t be an issue.

  “Hope so.” Ramirez watched her with a curious glint in his eyes. “He was bad off for a long time. This sort of thing can mess with you, even without his history.”

  If anything could trigger the memories, this might. A pang of guilt twisted through her. Maybe if she’d listened, things would have turned out different.

  She banished the question and focused on why dispatch sent them to the scene. “We got a call that someone was seen fleeing from the house. Any idea who reported the fire?”

  He nodded down the road. “Chelsea Bauer. She asked a million questions before I convinced her we needed room to do our job.”

  Damn, is she everywhere?

  Marissa’s ex-husband—that was laughable, the relationship had lasted a month—had proposed to Chelsea earlier in the week. Now she wouldn’t leave Marissa alone. She wanted advice on how to please Carson and shit. Obviously, Marissa didn’t have a clue because he let his mother file their divorce.

  Fucking hell.

  “Thank you.” Steeling herself, she crossed the street and smiled. Chelsea’s blond hair was tied back in a braid, her sweats were baggy, and she wore a black tank top. “Hello, Chelsea. I understand you saw someone fleeing the scene?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. It was so weird. I had this feeling something bad was about to happen and looked outside. Smoke wafted around the house and I saw someone running into the woods.”

  “Man, woman?” Marissa asked.

  Her eyes widened and she chewed her lip a moment. “I-I don’t know. I couldn’t really see them. All I saw was black pants and a big hoodie.”

  Marissa closed her eyes and drew a slow breath. She fought off a shudder. Regardless of what Bridges and Sloan thought, she needed to see the tape from Barnes’ Hardware.

  Four years ago there was a similar robbery at the same store. Soon after, Guy Reardon set fire to eight buildings. At least, that’s what everyone believed since the arsons stopped with Reardon’s death. The case was closed.

  But what if Guy wasn’t their arsonist?

  Pushing forward, Marissa asked, “Where do you live?”

  Chelsea nodded across the street and down. “There.”

  Wheels turned in Marissa’s head. That was the same house Guy Reardon had lived in before he shot Metcalf and roasted himself alive. “What were you doing when you saw the smoke?”

  “Changing the laundry out,” she answered.

  Granted the house had been rebuilt since most of the structure had collapsed, but the exterior was the same, which made it likely it had a similar setup. That put the laundry room in the basement in the back of the house. She wouldn’t have seen anything from there.

  Brian jogged up and looked at Marissa and back at Chelsea.

  For the moment, she’d keep her suspicions to herself. She refused to let her feelings dictate how she handled the case. The woman rubbed her wrong, but that didn’t make her guilty.

  “Thank you,” she said and turned to walk back to Ramirez.

  “Hey, wait. Enrique’s your brother, right? How is he?” Chelsea asked, concern in her tone.

  Marissa turned back. “He’ll be okay. Thanks for finding him last night.”

  “I was so worried.”

  She dipped her head and made her way to the fire chief.

  Ramirez glanced over her shoulder at Brian. “Why did you leave Detective Cox to deal with her?”

  She shook her head. “I need to look into a few things. I don’t trust her.”

  He lifted a shoulder and half-laughed. “Yeah, she gave off a funny vibe. What are you thinking?”

  “She called it in. Said they were wearing black pants and a hoodie. She doesn’t have the hoodie, but she definitely has the right pants. Not to mention she said she’d been changing the laundry out when she looked outside. Back when Guy died, the gas to the washer had been tampered with, but hadn’t blown. That was in the basement. Unless they redid the whole house, which I doubt, the laundry room is where she couldn’t have seen a damned thing.”

  He snorted. “Strange, but that doesn’t mean she did it.”

  “No, but it makes me question
what she really saw. Not to mention, she rubs me wrong.”

  His brow arched, but he didn’t say a word.

  The flames were out, the smoke still billowing. The first fireman left the building, followed by the rest of the crew. Relief flooded her when she counted all five.

  And only half her concern was tied up in her brother. The rest with Metcalf. She needed to talk to him. Alone, away from Isandro and anyone else who might flip her shit.

  If they stood a chance, she didn’t want anyone interfering. And she definitely wanted to explore their options. As long as he still meant it.

  * * * *

  Metcalf nearly froze inside the house, but having his friends at his back, he found his strength and pushed on. The home hadn’t been his in four years.

  Strangely, his old house burning down was freeing. Like shedding his old skin. The busted exterior fell away so a stronger shell could cover him.

  Even the similarities between this fire and the one in the Reardon house down the road didn’t get under his skin. Though he needed to talk to Ramirez about what he’d noticed.

  The moment he stepped outside, he saw Marissa standing next to Ramirez. She looked his way and his heart started to race. The relief on her face warmed through him. She felt something more than lust for him.

  If she hadn’t pleaded for secrecy, he would have made his way over and told her what was on his mind. For now, he had to keep it quiet.

  Either way, Gavin was right. He needed to tell Marissa what he wanted. Maybe then she wouldn’t insist on the secret.

  She did ask for a do-over. Now she was holding him away. This time he would bust down her walls and get her to open up.

  Hell, her brother might even take his side. That or kick his ass. But even then, she was worth it. And maybe it would prove he wanted her.

  He gave a nod to Marissa on his way to the truck. She didn’t take her eyes off him until he walked past. Clearly, she was affected too. Biting his tongue, he kept walking.

  With Lauren Blaine on maternity leave, they needed someone to investigate the fire. He could easily step up for this. His fire investigation certification was good for another year.

  Ramirez had mentioned Lauren wanted to become a stay-at-home mother just a few weeks ago. If that were true, the position would be open again. He could remain a fireman most of the time. That had been the plan before Guy shot him.

  Isandro’s voice pulled him back to the present. “I was too busy stopping the fire to guess what caused it. Ask Metcalf. If anyone noticed anything, he did.”

  Metcalf walked to them with a blank expression.

  Marissa turned to Metcalf and sparks practically flew. Her lips twitched, but she didn’t smile. He couldn’t read her expression.

  “Notice anything strange?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Yeah. The burn pattern indicates accelerant near the fireplace, the stove, and in the garage behind the washer and dryer. All places the gas lines run.”

  “Are those near each other?”

  “Not in a way that makes sense for how the fire spread. Not without accelerant, and maybe some kind of fuse between the three places. Either way, it doesn’t look like an accident.”

  Her head tipped slightly. “You’re certified to investigate, aren’t you?”

  Ramirez smiled. “He is, and with Lauren out, it makes sense the two of you work together. I’ll clear it with Chief Zerr, but you two are the best qualified to get to the bottom of this.”

  Her lips quirked. “I’m not an expert when it comes to fires.”

  “No, but you find connections where others don’t. If I remember right, you were the one who helped figure out who was setting fires the last time around.”

  She nodded. “As long as Zerr agrees, I’m up to the challenge.”

  “I look forward to it,” Metcalf answered, giving Marissa a smirk.

  Her eyes darkened as she changed the subject. “I assume you’ll need another look before you have any ideas.”

  “If you’re investigating with me, you could come with.”

  “All right.”

  Ramirez spoke up, “Perfect. I’ll have confirmation this works by morning.”

  Brian caught up to Marissa. “Anything else we need to do here?”

  Turning to her partner, she shook her head. “Nope. Not tonight.”

  She gave Metcalf one last look before heading to the cruiser. Biting his tongue, he went back to clean up.

  Isandro watched him like a hawk as they climbed on the truck. He continued to stare, but Metcalf wasn’t ready to talk.

  There was no way in hell Bulldog was keeping his mouth shut. He’d be discreet, but the questions were coming. He had to decide if he would tell Isandro the truth before or after he talked to Marissa.

  Chapter 4

  Metcalf climbed off the truck and came face to face with Jeanette. She looked like hell. Gaunt, underweight, dark circles under her eyes, chapped lips. She wore a scarf around her head, and he only saw a couple wispy strands instead of her normally thick hair.

  He froze in front of her. Not sure what to say or how to feel. Three years since she’d moved to New York and he hadn’t seen her since. She hadn’t called to tell him she was in town, and he never imagined she’d drop in unannounced.

  “Metcalf, we need to talk.” Her voice fell flat, empty. The thing that hurt the most—they’d spent years together and she wouldn’t even call him Dave.

  Marissa did.

  “What’s going on, Jeanette?” he asked, trying not to focus on the emotions she evoked. Mostly anger for taking their son across the damned country.

  She shook her head, her eyes shining with tears. “Cancer. It’s—it’s spreading. I don’t want Ashton to watch me deteriorate. And you want him home with you, right? Can you take him?”

  Seriously? Out of the blue? Not that he could ever say no. But some damned answers would be nice.

  “Of course.” His brow pinched. “To live?”

  Her trembling hands clenched into fists as she glared back. “Is that a problem?”

  Fuck no! But he tempered his anger and counted to ten. They’d fought long and hard when she took their son across the country and he was too much of a mess to follow. He didn’t want to make Ashton split his time between New York and California. He came a week or so every six months, but it wasn’t enough.

  And he knew if he chose to be an asshole now, she’d keep Ashton and find a way to prevent him from taking him later. Metcalf gripped the back of his neck. “Of course not. Nothing would make me happier than to have Ashton home with me.” He shifted his weight. “I’m sorry. You took me by surprise.”

  Her shoulders deflated with her sigh. “Good.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Your parents. In case you said no, I figured he could visit his grandparents. They were so happy to see him.” A tear fell down her cheek and she wiped it away.

  Of course they were excited to see him. They were pissed when she announced they were moving to New York. But at the time, he didn’t have his shit together. He was hardly taking care of himself and wasn’t sure he could do much for Ashton. And by the time he recovered, it was a year later, and he couldn’t force them to move back to California. He knew he’d fucked up there, but he didn’t know what else to do, so he took what he could get. A week every six months with him and talking to him nightly.

  Metcalf nodded. “Ashton is always welcome in my home.”

  Her eyes danced away. “It’s a permanent situation. Nothing left for the doctors to do. I figure this will make the transition easier for everyone.”

  “I made it through my ordeal. You could.” Not that it was the same, but the thought of the woman he’d spent half his life with dying pulled at his heart.

  She smiled sadly and met his gaze. “You don’t have cancer eating through your system faster than they can treat it. I’m sorry things are the way they are. You deserved better from me, and I was scared. You fell apart, Metcalf.” She rubbed her ar
m, glancing at the ground before meeting his gaze. “You put yourself back together. Ashton needs you. And I’m getting worse.”

  “Anything I can do?”

  “Take care of him.”

  “How are you doing with this?”

  One shoulder lifted, but she stared off at the wall. “I accept it. Brett is dealing with it. As long as you let me call Ashton, this is best.”

  “Of course. You can call him anytime. Skype. Anything. And if I need to bring him to you, I will.”

  She wiped away a stray tear. “Thank you. Just be there for him.”

  “I will.”

  Jeanette turned and walked away. Metcalf stared after her.

  “Shit, that’s rough,” Gavin said from next to him. “You know, if you need to bring him over, any one of us will help. He likes hanging out with the kids.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” One corner of his mouth tipped up. “Maybe this weekend. Look, I need to talk to Ramirez, then head to my parents. I can’t believe she left him with them and didn’t even—fuck. This is a mess.”

  After storing his gear, he jogged past Isandro on his way to the chief’s office and knocked.

  “Come in,” Ramirez called.

  He stepped inside and walked to the desk. “I hate doing this, but I need to figure out what’s going on with my son.”

  Ramirez smirked. “I saw Jeanette on the way in. Everything all right?”

  “She’s dying.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “She left Ashton at my parents’. I guess if I said no, she was going to take him back to New York.”

  Ramirez snorted. “She knew you wouldn’t say no.”

  “Of course not. He’s my kid.”

  “Get him settled in. I’m going to need you on this case. You say you think it’s arson. Chief Zerr already assigned Cortez to the case.”

  “No one from the county?”

  “They’re all too busy and don’t trust it’s more than a simple arson. Besides, you’re certified, and had you not taken leave when they were hiring, you would be our investigator now.”

  “Don’t want to step on any toes.”