Firefly Mountain
Page 29
“What we deserved,” Gini added.
Patrick held his hand out, and Gini slid hers into it as Midas nuzzled her cheek. All of Patrick’s senses sharpened with Gini beside him as if a part of him had been awakened. A part that had been asleep for what felt like centuries. She had cleared the cobwebs from his locked closet of a heart, cleaned the shelves, and filled them with something new and soft and cozy. He could get used to this feeling.
****
Although Gini wanted to get to the shelter and make sure the animals were all right, she wasn’t too eager to let time with Patrick sift through her fingers. Making love with him had thrown open the shutters and let the sun into her careful little life. Suddenly things were possible. A normal existence was within her grasp and all because of Patrick. She didn’t want to waste a moment of that normal existence. She wanted to make every second count.
They pulled up behind Mason’s car at the shelter as Gini finished her call to the shelter’s director, Josephine Crateski, to update her on their suspicions. Unfortunately, the director was in Paris with her husband for two more days. Gini assured her she’d take care of everything. Hell, she’d spent nearly as much time at the shelter as the director.
The outside floodlights were on in the front, and a few dim lights glowed inside where Gini knew the small animals were penned. She dug around in her purse for her keys. Patrick shined his flashlight into the landfill of her handbag.
“Thought this might help,” he said.
“Shut up.” Gini increased her efforts to locate the keys. Every minute she spent foraging was a minute the animals could be in danger. “Here they are!” She held up the keys in triumph and got out of the truck. She followed Patrick and Midas to Mason, Jonah, and Haddy. Squad cars stalked into the parking lot on silent tires. Several uniformed officers exited the cars and reported to Mason.
“Check back doors first. That seems to be our arsonist’s preference. Look for candles, gas trails, signs of forced entry. You all know the drill.” Mason pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt and handed it to Jonah. “You and Haddy stay out front in Haddy’s car. Call me if you see anything suspicious.”
“Roger that, Detective Rivers.” Jonah took the walkie-talkie, and Haddy helped him into her car. She got in the driver’s side and gave them a thumbs up. Gini felt better about Jonah being secured in the vehicle away from the building.
“Gini, you let me in the front door here,” Mason said. “Then if the perp isn’t here, you work on keeping the animals calm. They know you.”
“Got it,” Gini said.
“Midas can go in first,” Patrick said. When Gini opened her mouth in protest, Patrick held a finger to her lips. “It’s what he’s trained to do, Gini.”
She swallowed her comment and nodded, though the thought of sending the dog into possible danger unsettled her.
“Patrick, you’re with me,” Mason said. “I’ll follow Midas. You stay behind me and keep a sharp eye.” He pulled his gun from a shoulder holster and motioned for Gini to unlock the door.
Gini’s hands shook as she attempted to fit the key into the lock. She had to remind herself several times to calm down. Good thing fear didn’t make her start fires.
When she finally got the door open, Patrick said, “Sentez, Midas.” He gave the dog a little nudge, and Midas entered the shelter, nose to the ground. Mason swept his gun around in the dim interior and signaled for Patrick to follow him.
The animals began to meow, bark, neigh, hiss. Gini stood by the front door, not at all liking the fact that one of her best friends and the man she’d just decided she loved were heading into possible trouble. If anything happened to them, she didn’t know what she’d do. Mason was family, and Patrick was what her life had been missing all this time. She would never be the same now that she knew him, had made love to him. She didn’t want to be the same. She liked this new and improved Gini. One that knew true happiness and didn’t have to work so hard at faking it anymore.
It felt like forever before Mason popped his head out. His voice made Gini jump.
“Nobody’s inside, Gini. Just the wicked smell of gasoline and some pissed off animals. See what you can do about the critters.”
Gini stepped inside, the scent of gasoline nearly choking her, and went to the cats first because they were making the loudest racket. Patrick stood in front of the cages, holding Midas by the collar as the dog barked and whipped his tail around.
“He’s telling us there’s gasoline over here,” Patrick said over the noise. “We know, boy. We smell it too.”
Gini dropped her purse on a counter and ran to the cats. “Oh, Patrick! The cages are soaked with it.” She reached a hand inside and touched an orange tabby. “Good Goddess, the cats are covered with gasoline too.” She shielded her nose with her hand and coughed.
“Sick and twisted,” Patrick said. “We have to catch this nut job before someone gets dead.” Midas struggled in Patrick’s grip. “I know, boy. You found the gasoline. Bon. Bon. Asseyez.”
Midas sat for an instant, but popped up again to bark at the cats. “I’m going to put Midas in the truck,” Patrick said.
Gini didn’t say anything. She was still looking at the wet, matted fur on all the cats. About twenty of them. How could someone pour gasoline on kittens? She couldn’t imagine even having the notion.
Patrick’s hand on her shoulder jarred Gini out of her paralysis. “Hey, I’ll help you wash them off. They’ll be okay, Gini. None of them are hurt.” He gave her a quick hug and pulled Midas to the door.
Wash them off. Right. That’s what we’ll do. Gini had needed Patrick to take charge because her mind kept picturing someone spraying defenseless animals with gasoline with the intention of setting them on fire. A full body shudder coursed through her, but also propelled her to fill the large sink at the counter with warm sudsy water.
When Patrick returned, Mason was with him. Both of their faces were grim.
“What?” Gini asked. “Are Jonah and Haddy okay?” Soapsuds crested over the counter as the sink overflowed.
Patrick shut off the water and tossed a towel on the floor at Gini’s feet.
“Jonah and Haddy are fine,” Mason said as he opened the windows to let out the gasoline smell. “They’re heading in to give us a hand with washing these critters.” He gestured to the meowing cats then held up an evidence bag. “One of my guys found this at the back door.”
Gini stepped toward Mason, though she didn’t remember making the decision to do so. Mason placed the bag in her hand. A purple candle, completely intact, sat inside the bag. Though it was the first non-melted candle they’d recovered, it had an odd shape.
“Definitely homemade,” Gini said. “Does it have a scent like the others?”
“Open it. Just don’t touch it,” Mason said. “We may be able to lift prints off this one because it didn’t burn yet.”
Gini unzipped the bag and the smell assaulted her nostrils. Sharp, woody, heavy, more powerful than the gasoline. “Hmmm.” She sealed the bag and handed it to Mason.
“Do you know what that scent is?” Mason asked.
“I’ve smelled it before.” Gini’s eyes watered from the gasoline scent, and she reached for a tissue from the supply shelves behind her. “I can’t identify it right now with the stink of gas in here.” She couldn’t focus on anything besides the cats. “I’ll think on it.”
Mason nodded. “Two more of my officers reported snapping of twigs off to the east after we entered the shelter. They chased for a bit, but couldn’t find anyone. I’ve ordered a full sweep of the woods. More officers will come with lights. There are foot impressions in the mud by the back door as well that might help us.”
Gini prepared to respond, but a strangled sob came out instead. She used the tissue in her hand to catch the tears, but she couldn’t stop. Mason folded her into his arms, and Gini leaned her forehead on his shoulder.
“Shhhh,” Mason whispered. “You and Patrick kept this from being a disa
ster, Shutterbug. You did good. None of the other areas in the shelter are in this state. Just the cats. We’re steps closer to catching this jackass because of you.”
He was right of course. Gini knew that, but she couldn’t get a hold of herself. She thought about how scared the cats must have been, heard their wails now, and was overwhelmed.
Mason peeled her back and took a fresh tissue. Dabbing at her cheeks, he said, “Come on. Let’s get these kitties cleaned, okay? I’ve still got men posted outside, and Chief Warner is sending a truck and some fighters over just in case. No one’s getting close to this shelter that doesn’t have authorization. Give me a number for one of the vets, and I’ll get someone to call. These cats should probably be examined after they’re cleaned.”
As Gini nodded, Patrick replaced Mason and raised Gini’s chin until her eyes met his. He dropped the softest of kisses onto her tear-stained lips, and without saying a word, he made Gini feel better. His touch, his presence, calmed and soothed her better than any of the stupid techniques she’d been using to manage her anger. Patrick pulled her into an embrace and held her for a few moments.
“Who’s the least likely to scratch our eyes out?” he asked as he tugged her toward the cages.
Despite her tears, Gini had to laugh. “Bella in the top right cage. She’s as gentle as they come.”
Patrick opened that cage, and a pure white cat rubbed his hands as she meowed. He lifted her out and followed Gini to the sink where she threw another towel to the floor on the suds that had overflowed. Jonah and Haddy came in as Patrick lowered Bella into the water. The cat squirmed, but Patrick kept a firm grip on her until his hands and the cat were covered in suds.
“Haddy,” Mason said, “you and I will clean the cages while Patrick and Gini clean the cats.”
Haddy nodded as she got a chair for Jonah. “And Jonah can cuddle the cats before we put them back in the cages. He’s so good at cuddling.” She planted a kiss on Jonah’s forehead.
“A+ in Cuddling 101 right here, folks.” Jonah aimed a thumb at himself.
Gini looked at her friends and her brother, all of them willing to endure the horrid gasoline smell to pitch in and help these animals. She felt like crying again, but happy tears this time. Lunatic arsonists didn’t stand a chance with people like the ones in this room around.
****
Sick and twisted? No. Those fools had it all backward. They were the twisted ones thinking they could stop her. Thinking they could contain the fires she unleashed. They’d known where to look this time. Had finally caught on. Found her candle, discovered her gasoline. But they had not caught her. They weren’t good enough. She’d easily disappeared into the woods after hearing that self-absorbed fighter call her sick and twisted.
There was nothing wrong with what she had done. She’d enjoyed the sound those cats made as she doused them in the sweet nectar of fuel. Their wails were music, helpless cries rising in harmony. She could have listened to it all night, but she had a timetable to follow. She was right on schedule too until that cop and firefighter interfered. What right did they have to destroy her plans? To interrupt tonight’s performance? To make her waste all that gasoline?
No right. No right at all. And then to call her names too. She was not sick and twisted. She was doing the best she could with what she had. She’d planned bigger and better fires each step of the way. No easy feat. Yet, where were the congratulations? The praise? The gratitude?
They were too wrapped up in their perfect little lives to notice. Well, she’d make them notice. She’d planned the final fire for Burnam’s school complex. Kindergarten to high school all in one sweet location, one monumental target. Hitting a town’s children always made a grand finale.
But the more she thought about it, the more a new plan took shape in her mind. It had been about teaching the entire town a lesson on how they had no control over their petty existences. Now, she wanted to narrow her focus. Zoom in on particulars. Teach one man a lesson he’d never forget.
That firefighter would regret calling her sick and twisted. It would be the last thing he did.
****
“And I thought giving Midas a bath was a challenge.” Patrick mopped the puddles on the floor of the shelter. His front was soaked, and Gini’s tank top was plastered to her chest and stomach. He didn’t exactly mind that—the view was spectacular—but he wished they were alone so he didn’t have to keep his hands to himself.
“Cats and baths don’t mix,” Gini said, “but then again, cats and gasoline don’t either.” She took the last kitten from Jonah’s lap and put it back into its freshly cleaned cage.
“Listen,” Jonah said. “Not a meow of protest now. They may not have liked the man-handling or the water or the impromptu vet probing, but they’re happy now. And it doesn’t stink so bad in here anymore either.”
Gini took Jonah’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks, all of you.”
“We’re here to serve and protect, Miss.” Mason tipped an imaginary hat. “That includes cats.” He tapped Gini on the nose and put away the bucket and sponges he had used to clean the cages.
“After the calendar signing, I’m cooking you all dinner at my farm, and I won’t take no for an answer,” Gini said.
“We wouldn’t say no,” Jonah said. “I will not admit to saying this out loud later, but your cooking is better than Ma’s.”
Patrick watched the sunshine come back into Gini’s face at her brother’s compliment. He’d been worried tonight’s events had lowered a storm cloud, thick and heavy, over Gini. She hadn’t said much as they scrubbed those poor kittens until they were soaked all the way through. She didn’t react when one of them scratched a sizable slice onto her forearm. She just pinched the fur at the cat’s neck and rinsed him off mechanical-like while blood edged the cut.
Looking at her now, though, Patrick was sure she’d be all right. They had done a good thing here tonight. Stopping the fire was major. Catching the sicko would have been nice, but they were on to her. They had more clues to work with and lots of officers on the case now. It was only a matter of time before Burnam’s arsonist was securely behind bars or in a padded room.
“I’m taking Jonah home,” Haddy said. “He’s had enough excitement for his first time out of the house.”
Jonah awkwardly got to his feet, and he stopped Haddy before she left to put the chair away. “I think I have room for a little more excitement tonight,” he whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. The wink that went with his words was so incredibly Jonah, and Patrick warmed at the fact that he could recognize that about his friend.
“You’ll be asleep by the time I pull out of this parking lot,” Haddy teased.
“We’ll see about that.” Jonah followed her out the door of the shelter with a wave to Gini. “See you later.”
Mason checked on his officers posted outside then poked his head back inside. “They’re going to keep watch, but I don’t think our perp will be back here tonight.”
“Especially if our arsonist saw us here,” Patrick said. “She’ll move on to her next target.”
“Which, in theory, will be bigger than this place?”
“In theory, yes,” Patrick said.
“We’re running out of bigger places,” Gini said.
“Which means the arsonist is almost done with Burnam,” Patrick said.
“Which means we need to catch her before she leaves.” Mason ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve got some evidence to analyze. I’ll talk to you guys later.” He walked to the door, but swiveled around before leaving. “You guys make a good team.”
Team? Patrick turned the word over in his mind as he looked at Gini. She was still soaked, and now they were alone. In three steps he was standing in front of her, his hands wrapping around her waist, cold, wet cotton pressing against his forearms.
Gini slid her hands up to his shoulders and laced her fingers at the back of his neck. Team. Yes, Patrick definitely wanted Gini on his team.
“You must be exhausted,” he said.
“Actually, I’m wide awake.” Gini shrugged. “Adrenaline rush from wanting to help the cats, I guess.” She let her hands drop and took a step back. “You have some demo work at your place we could do to unwind?”
Patrick held in a sigh. Okay, she officially became the perfect woman.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“She doesn’t meow at all?” Gini held Whisper up for closer inspection.
“Not a squeak,” Patrick said.
“That’s sad.” Gini nuzzled the top of the kitten’s head with her chin. Whisper swiped a paw out at one of Gini’s loose curls, and Gini laughed. “My, you’re a cutie, and now you have a good home.”
“It’ll be better once everything is done and the dust settles,” Patrick said.
“I meant she’s got a good home because she has you.” Gini put Whisper down and leaned against the wall she had helped Patrick put up the last time she was at his house.
“Midas hasn’t run off to find a new owner, so maybe you’re right.” Patrick walked over to Gini and rested a hand on either side of her, corralling her against the wall.
“Well, he knows he’s got the best. Why would he look elsewhere?” Gini loved the way Patrick’s eyes darkened in color when he looked at her. As if he’d never seen anything so interesting. She felt less and less like a fire-starting freak and more and more like a woman. A woman in love.
“What do you want to work on?” Patrick asked.
Now there’s a question, Gini thought. All she wanted to work on was getting Patrick out of his clothes. She had a feeling Patrick wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to that idea, but also knew he was a man who liked to ease into things. Some construction work would let them release what they’d seen at the shelter. Gini could still hear the cats wailing in her mind and needed a little time to clear that out of her system before she could concentrate on pleasuring this incredible man standing in front of her.