“Definitely not Officer Bitchy-pants. Just go out there. Might put a smile on your face. And don’t worry about my lunch. I have it covered.” He winked.
Frowning, she closed the files and stashed them in a drawer. “If this is some kind of joke it’s your balls.”
He covered his crotch. “Get out there, Cortez.”
She grabbed her keys and headed out. She found Metcalf leaning against his truck with a smile. Relief rolled through her.
Marissa crossed the distance. “What’s up?”
“Taking you to brunch. If you’ve got the time.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
He opened the door. “Brian warned me Bridges is being a pain, so you won’t have a kiss until we’re away from here.”
Grinning, she slid into the seat. He joined her a minute later and started the truck. “What’s her problem?”
“This time? She thinks I’m taking her case. And sure, I’m looking into the robbery at the hardware store, but only because you said paint thinner was likely what was used in the fire. And someone stole a lot of that.”
“You worried?”
“No. Chief Zerr assigned the arson to me. And because we have reason to suspect the robbery has to do with the arson she okayed me looking into the case.”
“What did Zerr say about the link to Enrique?”
“Told me that he was likely collateral damage, and it was unintentional, so she’s not worried about me staying on it. I’d have to agree. They were probably trying to get out of there before being caught and didn’t stop to check on Enrique.”
“Good. You’re making connections I wouldn’t have.”
“That’s why there is a fire investigator and a police investigator on these cases. But we’re still stuck until the lab gets back to us with their findings.” She sighed and turned in her seat as he drove out of town.
“Where are we going?” Marissa asked.
“Not far. Don’t want us to be an issue for your job.” He smiled over at her. “And for a little while I don’t want to think about my ex.”
She frowned. “What did she do now?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Pissed I was there?” Marissa asked, feeling nothing. Metcalf was already tense, which meant he wasn’t listening to the bitch. She could live with it.
“Yeah. She doesn’t have a right to force my decision. She’s the one who fucked up. Not you, not me. She did. I told her she either butts out of my life, or I won’t let Ashton talk to her. I don’t want it to come to that, but I’m not budging.”
“Okay.” Marissa looked him in the eye. “You know that if Ashton is ever uncomfortable with me there, I’ll back off. I don’t want to be an issue.”
“You’re not. Don’t even think like that.”
She reached over and placed her hand on his thigh. “Look, kids take things like cancer and death differently. He may be okay with us right now, but when it all hits him, he could lash out. I’m not saying it would end us, just might mean we take a step back until he gets through the hard part.”
He threaded his fingers through hers. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
She laughed. “No, I’m not.”
“Bullshit. You always think of everyone else first.”
“We covered this. It’s because I’m worried if I try to insert myself when he isn’t ready, it’s all going to bust apart. Can’t give us a real chance if he’s pushing me out.”
“You have a point, but we can worry about it if it comes up.”
“Yeah.” She pushed out air and thought about sitting down with someone and just getting everything off her chest. The fears, the doubt, the worry. She was starting to understand where it stemmed from. Maybe if she could say it out loud, that would fade away.
* * * *
Metcalf watched Marissa throughout brunch. She was lost in thoughts, staring at nothing in particular. He finally asked. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
She tapped the table and asked, “How well did you know Guy Reardon?”
He paused for a second. Shrugging, he shook his head. “He was an asshole. He had a girlfriend. She left just a day or two before the fire.” He took a drink of his coffee and frowned.
“He kept ranting about how he’d tried to teach her a lesson, but she didn’t get it, she was going to keep doing it. We were trapped down there, things were shifting. I only caught part of what he said.”
“Taught her a lesson?” she asked.
“Yeah, but I don’t know what he meant.”
“Did you ever notice if she’d been hurt?”
He shook his head. “Not that I remember.”
She nodded. “Remember a name?”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I think I’ll ask the people who lived there before.”
He leaned forward. “Why are you asking? What are you thinking?”
She rubbed one hand and took a breath. “What if Guy wasn’t the one to start the fire?”
His gut reaction was to say it had to be him. But what if she was right? What if the arsonist was back? What if this was a new string? “Maybe not.”
She smiled slightly. “It’s okay. Most of that information should be in the files.”
He took her hand and looked into her eyes. “Why do you think this fire is related?”
“Fire started in the same place as the fire Guy died in. I know he was trapped in that room, and he shot you to keep you from getting him out. He sounded guilty, but maybe his guilt was for something else.”
“For hitting his girlfriend?” Metcalf rubbed at his head. “Then why my old home?”
“You didn’t save him.”
“What?”
“Yeah, my theory is messed up, but look at my parents. My mother would have killed for my father, no matter how bad he beat her, how many times he cheated on her.”
“But the girlfriend left town.”
“Yeah, but if I can find her, we’ll have an answer. It’s probably nothing.”
“No, you may be right. That worries me, though. If she did it and targeted my home...shit, that’s messed up.”
“I shouldn’t have asked you. It’s why I was so quiet. Didn’t want to worry you, Dave. But I want to stop this person, whoever it is.”
“Might not be her?” he asked hopefully. If it were her, would she strike again?
“No. If he hurt his girlfriend, could be a father, brother, friend, even her mother. I don’t know, and I won’t know until we find her.”
“Hopefully she’s far the fuck away from here.” Across the world would work. He rubbed his face, hoping like hell the arsons weren’t connected, but Marissa did make a good point.
She took his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin brunch.”
“No, you’re working this case. I get it. It’s what makes you good at your job.”
“Thanks.”
Grinning, he leaned forward. “Hey, what are you doing this weekend?”
“Friday night is my family’s get-together. My brothers all come over for a barbeque. I want you and Ashton to come. The guys are bringing someone.”
He grinned. “You want us both there?”
“Yes. He can get to know my brothers.”
“If you’ll let me take you out Saturday. My parents want Ashton this weekend.”
“It’s a date.”
Food came, and they fell back into easy conversation about anything and everything but work.
* * * *
Marissa kept going over the case files in her head. She’d found the girlfriend. Cameron Monty was dead. She died in a car wreck a week after leaving Guy Reardon.
Revenge wasn’t the motive, unless maybe Guy had a lover, but none of the people she talked to thought that was the case. He’d been obsessed with Cameron.
Her family wasn’t an option. Her adoptive parents had been dead for years, and she could find no record of her birth parents. Her sister hadn’t heard from her since
Cameron had turned eighteen. Not to mention she lived in Ohio, far from Lakeridge.
She was back to her list of possible suspects. Chelsea hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary, but she seemed to be everywhere with virtually no past. She’d arrived in town six months before, and Marissa couldn’t track down her origins…yet.
Rick was a miserable bastard, but at the moment, he was cleaning his act up. Or so he claimed. His sports shop was doing well again. But until she knew for a fact he couldn’t be responsible, she planned to keep an eye on him.
And Old Man Tombs had been admitted to the hospital for pneumonia that morning. He’d been going on and on about some family member he’d wished had stayed missing.
Still, it could be someone totally unrelated. Marissa had started watching the way everyone walked, to hopefully find more possible suspects.
Chapter 12
By Thursday, they hadn’t learned anything definite about the fire, other than paint thinner had definitely been used to start it. Things with Marissa were progressing. She came over most nights.
However, the night before, she’d stayed in to help Isandro and Arianna with wedding planning. It was good to see Isandro settling down. Their whole crew seemed to have found love.
He wasn’t ready to name what he felt for Marissa, but he knew it was something real and could be more. She made him feel things he hadn’t in years, and she was great with Ashton.
She may not have come over, but she had called when she was done helping with the planning. They stayed on the phone for three hours.
Metcalf was still tired when he punched in for work. Of course, that meant the bells rang first thing. Rubbing at his eyes, he hurried to the truck and pulled on his gear. Another fire, this one at Touchdown Rick’s.
Rick graduated the same year and was the quarterback. Metcalf had been the wide receiver, and he was good, but it wasn’t his life. Rick, on the other hand, got a full ride scholarship for football. Then fucked up his leg his senior year on the last game. It ruined his chance at the NFL.
He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Kyle and Trent were in the back, Isandro in the passenger seat. Gavin opened the passenger door.
“Hey, man, I need to talk to Metcalf. Can I swap you seats?”
Isandro nodded. “Sure.” He moved into the back, and Gavin climbed in.
“Thanks, Bulldog.” Gavin turned to Metcalf. “Cadence says Jeanette will drop Marissa, your choices, and the guilt trips.”
“Good.” He sighed and fired up the engine.
“Drop Marissa?” Isandro demanded. “What the hell is she saying about my sister?”
Metcalf started for the fire. “It’s not Marissa, exactly. Jeanette is pissed that I’m jumping back into something with someone the same time I have Ashton back. She’s worried I’m going to be an asshole and get caught doing something with her. It’s guilt.”
“Guilt?” Trent asked.
“Yeah. Guilt. Ashton walked in on his mother and Brett months before she left me.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Isandro barked. “And she’s worried my sister is going to be that fucking stupid?”
“Calm down,” Gavin said. “Jeanette has weeks left to live and she’s freaking out over a lot of shit.”
They’d already asked about Jeanette and the situation with Ashton, so it wasn’t any surprise.
Kyle leaned forward, interrupting, “First, when were you with Marissa?”
“Forever ago. But that doesn’t matter because we’re here.” Metcalf shut off the engine and climbed out.
Felt good to have the story out there. Still, he wasn’t big on gossip, on either side of it. And he especially didn’t want his and Marissa’s relationship picked apart by his crew, or any other.
They weren’t breaking any rules. He had already looked into it. Metcalf pulled on his helmet as the guys joined him, and Rick came running over. “I don’t know how it started. I was…I was in the back, doing inventory. The smoke. God, the smoke was so bad.”
“Okay, calm down. We’re going to do what we can to save the store.” He side-stepped Rick and started for the building, knowing he’d have to determine the cause of the fire sooner or later. Best to start looking for clues while it burned.
* * * *
Marissa and Brian pulled up to the fire. Bridges and Sloan parked two seconds later. “Son of a bitch,” Marissa muttered.
“Don’t let her get to you. You know she sees this as competition,” Brian reminded.
“Just want to do my job. It’s not a damned contest.”
“Yeah, but you’re the one who always solves the cases. Which is why we were promoted to detective and they weren’t.”
“I didn’t ask for this assignment. Normally, it wouldn’t fall in our laps either.”
“Nope. But she isn’t looking at the bigger picture. She’s only seeing what’s right in front of her.”
Before he could offer any other advice, she climbed out of the car and went to work moving the crowd across the street. Once everyone was out of the way, she turned to Rick, who had followed.
Tears streamed down his face as he stared at his building going up in flames. He didn’t look like a man who could burn down his own shop.
A thread of guilt twisted through her. “Rick, you okay?”
“No. Everything was picking up. Things were going well again. Then this.”
He pushed his fingers through his hair and shook his head.
“We’ll find out what happened,” Marissa promised.
“I don’t understand how.”
“Relax. We’ll find the answers.” She turned and walked away. She needed to know if she was on this case too before asking too much. Besides, Metcalf would be able to give her valuable information.
The flames inside weren’t bad. Smoke billowed from the back of the building, flames flickering over the top, but the inside didn’t seem to be burning.
She hurried to where Ramirez climbed out of the truck. He watched the building.
Marissa took a breath and nodded at Touchdown Rick’s. “Is it me, or does it appear the fire is worse out back?”
His head tipped. “You’re right.” He pressed the button for the radio. “Check the alley. There’s too much smoke coming from there.”
She didn’t hear the response or who gave it.
Ramirez turned to her. “How’s Rick?”
Glancing back, she shook her head. “He’s freaking out. Doesn’t seem to be an act.”
His brow arched, a question on his lips, then he looked at the fire. “Copy that.” He gave Marissa his attention once again. “What are you thinking?”
“I’ll fill you in somewhere quieter.” A few theories were forming, but she couldn’t prove any of them yet.
* * * *
The fire had started behind the shop. Someone had draped batting through the open window. For some reason, the arsonist had climbed to the ceiling and poured kerosene down the wall, drenching the batting.
The outer wall and one wall inside the building were damaged, but most of the damage inside was from the smoke.
He couldn’t figure out why someone would start a fire that way. And why the sports shop? Though one of the previous arsons had a similar start.
Maybe Marissa’s theory had weight. Maybe it was the same person.
Shit, he didn’t want to think about that. It would only lead him down the path of blaming himself. It took him more than a year to let go of the guilt when Jeanette took their son across the country. He finally realized that it was Jeanette’s fault, not his.
Shaking off what he couldn’t change, he went to work, finishing up at the fire with the rest of his crew. He came around the building and spotted Marissa and her partner dealing with crowd control. Officer Bridges and Sloan were out there too.
Metcalf knew there was a rivalry between Marissa and Bridges, though she wouldn’t talk about it. Then again, Bridges had been jealous she didn’t make detective before
Marissa.
Seemed like hours passed while they rolled out the caution tape and blocked off the building. There was more investigating to be done, but that would have to wait.
Who the hell had set the fire? None of her suspects seemed likely.
The crowd must have realized they weren’t getting answers at that point because they started to disperse. As much as he wanted to pull Marissa aside to talk to her about his findings, he would wait. Besides, Bridges was giving him the stink eye.
“Hey, asshole,” Isandro barked. “You aren’t going to talk to her?”
“She doesn’t want this spread all over town. So, I’m playing by her rules.”
“No one gives a damn if you’re with her,” Isandro shot back.
He rubbed his face. “Bridges smarted off about me and her being together. So yeah, she may worry about how it looks. For the moment, we’ll play it safe. And I plan to call her when we get back. Someone started that fire, which means we have another arson to figure out.”
Isandro’s lips curved. “So, you’re fully invested in Marissa?”
Dave glared back. “Never been one to play games. Have I ever given you that impression?”
“And if it doesn’t work?” Isandro demanded.
Not something Metcalf wanted to consider. But even then he hoped for the best. “Then we’ll part as friends. We aren’t looking for a definition right now. Let us figure it out.”
Laughing, Isandro lifted his hands. “All right. Shit, you’re too serious, and I’ll take that as a good sign.”
“I damn well hope so.” Metcalf lifted a shoulder. “In fact, I need your help. Have an idea of some place I could take her that she would absolutely love?”
“Lourdes Bistro,” Isandro answered immediately.
Trent rolled his eyes. “It’s good. I finally took Ella. It’s not all snails.”
Metcalf laughed. “Snails? You think the French only eat snails?”
“He was fixated on them,” Isandro pointed out.
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