“Listen to me!” Mary grabbed Jennifer’s hand.
Jennifer yanked it out of Mary’s hand and glared at her, hatred rimming in her dark eyes.
“I need your help. I need to remember someone we went to school with.”
“Like I’m going to fucking help you do shit.” The classy reporter was suddenly showing her true low-class colors—and her intense hatred and jealousy of Mary.
“Jennifer,” Odgers said from behind Mary. His calm voice had Jennifer snapping her attention to him. “You can interview Mary later. Right now, listen to her. Maybe you can be responsible for cracking this case wide open.”
Jennifer closed her mouth slowly, shifting her attention from Odgers to Mary.
Mary didn’t wait for her to say anything. She just wanted her memory, not her friendship. “Back when we were in school, there was this boy who had scars all over his face. I think it was from a bad case of chicken pox or something. He always made honor roll and he dressed funny. Do you remember him?”
Jennifer wrinkled her nose and stared at Mary with hard, cold eyes. “He doesn’t sound like someone I hung around with.”
“I don’t think any of us hung out with him.” Which might have something to do with why the man was completely insane today. He was bitter from a life with no friends and his ugly appearance. “But we believe he might be the man who called into the station this morning and claimed responsibility for two house fires. The description matches, but I just can’t remember his name.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Jennifer didn’t seem concerned about helping Mary and racking her brain to try.
Mary sighed. “Jennifer, this man has just abducted Nate. We need to find him. Will you please try to remember?”
“Nate?” Jennifer whispered, her entire expression transforming as she stared past Mary and moistened her lips. “Is he okay?”
“We won’t know until we can figure out the name of the man who took him so we can determine where he lives.” Mary was running out of patience. The urge to lean over the counter and grab the little bitch, then shake her until she told Mary whether she remembered the name of the boy from their childhood or not.
“It sounds like you’re describing Ugly Dud.” Jennifer shrugged.
“Ugly Dud?” Mary frowned, tapping her lips and glancing over her shoulder at Odgers. “I don’t remember anyone called that.”
“Of course not. You only had eyes for Nate.”
Mary ignored the comment. “What was his real name?”
“How would I know? He wasn’t exactly someone I associated with. May I have my microphone back, please?” She stressed the word “please” with too much sweetness.
“Ugly Dud.” Mary repeated the name as she squatted and picked up the microphone. “Dud. Maybe his name was Dudley, or something like that.”
“Maybe.” Jennifer snatched the microphone out of Mary’s hand as soon as she stood, then inspected it meticulously for damage.
Mary looked at Odgers. “A yearbook might help.”
“There are some across the street at the library.”
An hour later, Mary scoured over the yearbook from her graduating class with Odgers next to her flipping pages from the class that had graduated a year later. Jennifer and her cameraman paced behind Mary. Patty had agreed to come in early and dispatch, which freed Mary from the station. She’d practically run across the street and through the library. The librarian asked more questions than Jennifer had as she found the yearbook for the police.
“There aren’t any pictures anywhere of anyone named Dudley.” Mary leaned back and sighed, a headache throbbing at her temples. She’d overheard Odgers’s phone calls when reports came in announcing no one had spotted Nate or an orange Volkswagen yet. If he was hurt, or worse, because of her, she’d never forgive herself.
Why had she decided suddenly, after all these years, that she couldn’t live another minute without Nate? If she’d left him alone, some creep from her past, a person she had absolutely no memory of, wouldn’t have lured Nate away from her home.
The creep had to be good. Nate wasn’t gullible. He wouldn’t have gone with the guy if he’d suspected him in any way. And if this jerk was that good at bluffing, he would be just as good at killing.
A mean shudder attacked her, and Mary hugged herself, fighting the urge not to hit the desk with her fist. Somehow she’d figure this out. Nate would be okay. She would find him.
There weren’t any other options.
“Look here.” Odgers leaned into her and pointed at the yearbook she’d just looked at. There was small print under the second page of pictures of her senior class.
Mary stared at the words next to Odgers’s stubby finger. They were the names of the classmates whose pictures weren’t in the yearbook.
“Dudley Milestone,” she muttered, a flutter of hope squeezing her chest. “I swear I don’t remember him.”
“That would fit the profile he painted for us.” Odgers patted her shoulder as he stood and stretched. “If there is a Dudley Milestone living in this town, we’ll find him.”
Mary had no intention of sitting around and waiting. “I’m riding with you,” she announced, sticking to Odgers’s side.
He was a smart man not to refuse.
According to the post office, there was only one Milestone in Meredith Curve. Mary sat in the passenger seat of Odgers’s personal car, his new Jeep that smelled faintly of cigars. Her stomach already had twisted in a knot so tight and painful, the dull stench of smoke didn’t really bother her. She glanced several times at her side mirror and Meyers and Pearson, who were in the squad car behind them.
“Here’s the street,” Odgers said when he slowed and signaled to turn right. “Meyers, I want you two to stay back. Park here by the curb where you’ve got a good eye on us but aren’t visible from the house. We’ll stay on the phone with each other.”
Mary noticed how white his knuckles were as he gripped his cell to his ear and laid out their game plan to his cops in the car behind them. Odgers pulled up in front of the house next to the Milestone home.
“There’s a garage behind the house.” He pointed.
Mary followed the narrow gravel drive that curved and disappeared behind the house. “If there is an orange Volkswagen in there, we’ve got him.”
“Stay here.” Odgers jumped out of the Jeep before she could protest.
Her heart exploded when he shut the door. She couldn’t just sit there and wait to find out if Nate were alive or dead, injured or not. After twisting in her seat and seeing Meyers and Pearson sitting in the squad car at the end of the block, she told herself to calm down. Maybe she’d never done a stakeout before, but Mary had the same training the rest of these guys did. Sometimes that meant being patient and waiting for the right moment. It also meant following orders, even when it made her nuts to do so.
Another car turned onto the street, this one not stopping and parking as Meyers had. It approached slowly, looking vaguely familiar.
“Crap,” Mary hissed the moment she recognized Jennifer and her cameraman.
As she drove by Jennifer gave Mary a smug look. They slowed at the end of the block, pulled a U-turn, then parked halfway down the block from where Mary sat.
She told herself Jennifer wouldn’t disturb a police situation just to get her story. More than likely, Jennifer had sat through more stakeouts than Mary knew. As if to prove her right, Jennifer put the car in park, then pulled out a small compact and began powdering her nose.
Mary’s cell buzzed in her pocket, making her jump. She banged her elbow on the door handle and noticed Odgers standing at the edge of the driveway toward the back of the house.
“God,” she whispered, rubbing her elbow, then pulling out her phone. It was Odgers calling her. “Is the car in there?” she demanded, still whispering.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She watched him rock up on his feet as if he were proud of himself for finding the house. They had moved quickly on the l
ocation, now that she thought about it. She gave thanks for small blessings and sent up a silent prayer Nate was all right.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. My boys and I are going to surround this place. I want you to go to the front door. Say whatever you want when he answers. It won’t matter. You’ll only be with him a minute before we enter. If Nate is with him we arrest him; if he isn’t we drag Milestone in on suspicion of arson and kidnapping.”
“And murder,” Mary added. “He killed John.”
“Yup. If we nail the arson charge we’ll add murder.”
Mary watched Meyers and Pearson get out of the car and start hurrying down the street. Pearson already had his gun pulled.
Damn! This was for real. She was in the middle of a bust, which was somewhere she’d always dreamed of being. But not at the risk of Nate’s life. Refusing to give too much thought as to what she’d say when Milestone answered the door, she pushed her way out of the Jeep and headed across the lawn.
Her knees trembled as she neared the man’s house and her heart was lodged in her throat, causing her to wonder if she’d be able to say anything at all. She rapped solidly on the door, not wanting to look around and see where everyone had positioned themselves. All she needed to know was if Nate was all right.
“Who is it?” a voice demanded harshly from the other side of the closed door.
“Dudley?” she asked, her voice meeker than she’d wanted it to be.
No one said anything and no one opened the door. She stared at the painted wood, fidgeting with the bottom of her shirt and rubbing her damp fingertips along her uniform belt. When the lock on the door clicked, she jumped and fought off a shriek. Instead, when a very grotesque-looking small man, probably a couple inches shorter than her, opened the door, she actually managed a smile.
“Dudley,” she repeated. “I knew it was you.”
Something shifted in his pale blue eyes. A mask of worry seemed to disappear as his lips went from frowning rigidly to being fuller, relaxed.
“You know me?” He sounded like a child, bewildered and amazed.
“We went to high school together, silly.” She prayed he wouldn’t notice how she shook with fear. “I know you never gave me a lot of attention, but I knew who you were,” she said, dropping her voice to a sultry whisper.
It might have been cruel preying on this man’s vulnerability. Obviously he’d craved attention so desperately that he went to the extreme to assure he got it. Murder and abduction weren’t excusable, though, regardless of how painful his life might have been.
“Why are you here and not at work?” he asked, frowning although he couldn’t hide his delight at her being at his front door.
“They let me off early when we couldn’t find Nate. He was at my house, but I guess he took off.” Mary shrugged, trying to make it look as if it weren’t something she was concerned about. “I knew it was you who called me earlier,” she added, whispering. “So I thought I’d come over and we could talk. May I come in?”
He considered her request for a moment, apparently weighing the likelihood that she brought backup. “Sure, why not? The more the merrier.” His laugh sounded bitter, if not deranged. It was the same laugh that had given her the chills over the phone.
When he stepped back to allow her into his home, Mary spotted the large figure crumpled on the floor. “Oh my God!” she yelled, darting past Dudley Milestone and sliding to the floor next to Nate. “What have you done to him?” She couldn’t hold up her charade any longer as she screamed at Dudley, “If he’s dead—”
“You think I’m an idiot,” Dudley snarled, his delighted expression fading as well. “I was smarter than you!” he said in an accusatory tone, pointing his finger at her. “Everyone noticed you and him,” he complained, curling his lip as he glared at Nate. “But I’m even more intelligent now than I was in high school. He isn’t dead. Not yet. I wouldn’t let him die without truly knowing deep, mortal pain.”
“Dudley Milestone!” Captain Odgers appeared from behind the corner of a hallway. He leapt into the room, his gun pointed at Dudley. “You’re under arrest!” Odgers yelled.
Everything became a mass of confusion in Mary’s eyes. There were people all around her, talking at once. Dudley protested loudly of his rights being violated, but she didn’t pay attention. Instead she leaned over Nate, pressing her body to his, and pulled him into her arms.
“You’re going to be fine, sweetheart, just fine.”
Several days later, Mary entered her house, laughing as she pulled the key from the lock and juggled two grocery bags in her arms. “I think we bought way too much food.”
Nate was right behind her, his arms also full of groceries. He managed to close the front door before following her. “There’s no such thing.” He was laughing, too.
“I’m going to have to put some of these away before we start cooking.”
Nate plopped his bags on her counter and grabbed her before she could pull the contents out of any of the bags. “They can wait,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “It’s been one week since you helped me come to my senses and realize how much I love you.”
“One hell of a week,” she muttered, but couldn’t help smiling.
John’s funeral had been tragic and sad, but Mary knew if he was there, and a big part of her believed he was, he would be so proud of the two of them for finally seeing the light.
“I have a feeling life with you will always be an adventure,” Nate growled, and nipped at her lower lip. “But we’ll coast through just fine. We love each other, and that is what matters.”
She blinked, staring up at him. He’d been using that little four-letter word quite a bit since he’d first spent the night, and it amazed her how much power it held. Her heart fluttered at the same time something swelled in her gut, moving lower and growing until the throbbing between her legs wouldn’t be ignored.
“Yes, we do love each other,” she murmured, her voice cracking.
“I was going to wait until dinner, but I’ve never been good at keeping quiet about a surprise.” His milk chocolate eyes pulled her into them as he gazed down at her. “Here.” He thrust something against her chest.
Mary looked down, not noticing that he must have pulled something from his pocket. But as she stared at the small, square box her mouth went dry. She didn’t want to know what expression was on her face, but however she looked, it brought a large smile to Nate’s face.
“Open it,” he encouraged.
She did, her fingers damp and trembling, and stared at the narrow silver band with one small sapphire set in the middle of it in a beautiful setting. “Nate, oh my God.”
He did her the favor of taking it out of the box, then slipped it on her ring finger. “It really fits. Mom promised me it would.”
“Your mom?” He’d actually planned this. “I thought you weren’t any good at secrets.” She stared at her finger with the gem glistening on the silver band and admired its beauty.
“It was my mom’s first engagement ring and her mom’s before her. When each couple had more money, they bought nicer rings.”
“There would be a ring nicer than this?” Her senses finally came to her and she looked up suddenly, grabbing his shirt when the room seemed to teeter. “Are you asking me? I mean, are you?”
“Asking you to marry me?” He wrapped his arms around her and lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss was hungry, on fire, and full of promises of a wonderful night ahead. “Mary Hamilton, yes. I want you to marry me.”
“Yes!” She jumped so hard they banged into each other, but she didn’t care. Nate lifted her into his arms, heading for the stairs. “What about the food?”
“What I want to eat I’ll do in the bedroom, my dear.”
She cuddled into him, feeling the ring against her fingers. Her dreams had come true. And now her fireman would take her upstairs and show her that the best way to put out a fire was by adding more heat to it.
Heat Wave
&nbs
p; P.J. Mellor
Special thanks to Karen Hankins
1
If she didn’t have sex soon, she was going to burst into flames, creating her own flash fire.
Summer Wadsworth tried to concentrate on other things as she scrunched her face in an effort to alleviate the itch beneath her facial mask and then resumed applying the last coat of polish to her toenails.
The somewhat sexy-looking meteorologist on the television news droned on about the heat wave currently encompassing most of the Texas Gulf Coast. Red flag warnings for flash fires due to dryness, burn ban in effect, yada yada yada.
Boy, could she relate.
Restless, she glanced out her living room window at the tan sprigs that had once been her grass and sighed.
Kaboom!
Lola, her beagle, flew through the pet door in the kitchen as though someone had thrown her into the house.
The dog made a beeline for the sofa, diving under the throw pillows. Head buried, she whimpered and shook.
“What was that? What happened, Lola-belle?” Walking on her heels, toes splayed by the foam spreaders, Summer hobbled to the kitchen window.
To prevent smudging, she grabbed a meat fork from the wire basket by the sink and shoved back the edge of her curtains.
Immediately she released the curtain and screamed, the fork clanging into the stainless-steel sink, as a giant ball of fire rolled through her backyard.
Boom.
As she was knocked off her feet, pain shot through her skull a split second before darkness overtook her.
2
Thorne Paxton winced at the sound of the siren filling the air as he tightened the strap holding his long board to the top of his truck. After checking his gear, he jumped into the cab and fired up his engine.
He should have known he wouldn’t get a day off. With the burn ban and number of flash fires plaguing the town of Harper’s Ferry, virtually every firefighter was on call 24/7. Deep within his pocket, his cell phone vibrated against his leg.
Feel the Heat Page 11