by Siera London
“Thanks, Adam for giving me a chance.” She gave a small smile, then moved like she intended to hug the old man. When she saw her cuffed wrists, she backed away. She was close now, and the familiar heat of her body called to Nathan’s. The instinct to take her and run came unbidden.
Adam turned cold eyes on him, “You’ll pay for hurting this girl. Mark my words.”
“Get me out of here.” Symphony said to no one in particular. She stepped away from Nathan like the security they’d felt in each other’s arms had all been a lie. Everything about her was an illusion. Her innocence, what she felt for him.
“Blue,” he said.
She flinched like he’d struck her.
“You eager to get to central booking?”
Nathan was the one with the mortal wound. Why should she pretend the injured party?
Icy, golden eyes bore into his. “Why not? There’s nothing here that I need.” Symphony stared him down. Nathan tried to find comfort in doing the right thing, in closing the case, but all he felt was empty.
Nathan’s heart shuttered in his chest. So, their time together meant nothing to her. Nathan wanted her to hurt. Couldn’t she see how her lies had torn the very fabric of his existence to pieces?
“You told me you worried about me. Wanted me to be safe. How you must’ve laughed, the arsonist conning the investigator? How did it feel to crawl into bed with the enemy?”
“You’re not my enemy, Nathan. And, I never lied about my feelings for you.”
“Stop,” he cut in. “I don’t want to hear your lies.”
“How about the truth? I never started any fires, not now, and not then.”
“You’ll regret betraying me,” he spat out.
She froze.
Nathan wondered at the next words she would utter. A confession?
“No, Nathan, I won’t… but—you—will.”
Before he knew what happened, he’d closed the distance between them and she was in his arms. She kept her head down, like she was a helpless rag doll and he was a pit bull dragging her against her will. Pain, anger, hurt ignited in him. He felt a bully, the big kid picking on the defenseless girl, and he resented her for it. That she had the power to manipulate him, wound him.
Trace appeared at his side, “Nate. Let her go,” he whispered.
Nathan tightened his grip. Duty over desire, that was the right choice, but—
“Yeah, investigator, let me go.” Symphony snatched her arm out of his grip.
How could she be so cold toward him? He should be the one pushing her away, but hell if he didn’t reach for her again. Symphony gasped when he took her into his arms. This time he pulled her in, close to his chest.
“What kind of woman gives a man her virginity, and then betrays him?” Nathan’s head pounded like a jackhammer. Why wouldn’t she concede? This was her fault. Her lies had ripped them apart. She needed to admit it. He needed to hear her say the words.
“Wrong question.”
He tilted his head, staring at her. Her response was illogical. Nathan could feel his eye twitch. “And the right question would be?”
“What kind of man takes a woman’s virginity and believes she could betray him?”
Nathan loosened his grip. Symphony, quicker than a forest fire, extricated herself from his arms.
She turned, ducked her head, and slid into the back of the police cruiser.
“When we met, I thought… wow, I don’t deserve him.”
“You were right,” he sneered.
“I was,” she shook her head, a sad smile on her face. “I deserve much better.”
Nathan gave her a vicious growl, but she’d already fixed her stare ahead, peering through the windshield.
He watched as the sedan carried Symphony farther away from him. Car shocks squeaked with each dip of the cruiser across the cratered gravel lot. He narrowed his gaze, peering through the cloud of dust kicked up by the rear wheels, waiting for her to look back at him. She never did. When the car disappeared from sight, Nathan let his body go limp. He didn’t stop until his butt hit the ground.
“Hey, you okay?”
A look of concern covered Trace’s face. Nathan lacked the strength to form a reply.
He hung his head and howled like the wounded animal he was. Deep in his soul, he felt a crack form, the beginning of Adam’s prophecy, the beginning of his punishment. He’d chosen honor and honesty, over his happiness. Nothing would ever be okay without Symphony.
***
Even in jail, Symphony was alone. The police station was situated close to the community college and sounds from outside the walls ricocheted through the empty square detention boxes. Her cell was tiny with a cot the size of a chewing gum stick, a miniature porcelain sink and toilet visible to God and country.
When she’d awoken in the hospital fourteen years ago, tubes in her arms, oxygen mask over her face, she’d felt brave because she understood the danger she faced. Knew if her mother told the truth about starting the fire, that they would be separated forever. This time was different. Fear invaded every cell in her body, like an expansive mountain range crowding out optimism. How could she fight an invisible attacker? She had no idea who had orchestrated her set up.
She recalled how Nathan looked at her, anger and loathing burning in his eyes. As long as she lived, she’d never forget the vitriol in his face. The evidence against her had to be substantial for him to betray her so completely. How could she hope to convince him otherwise? She was a nobody with a history of arson.
Unable to sit, Symphony paced her cell. The door to the holding cell banged open. A young man wearing the standard green sheriff’s uniform stood on the other side of the bars.
“Ms. Porter,” he said in an oddly comforting tone, “I brought you something to eat.”
Tangy spices invaded her nose, the savory heat causing her mouth to water. Food couldn’t solve Symphony’s problems. Her life was in shambles, Symphony thought as she scrubbed her face with her hands.
She gazed at him. His blue eyes were sad, like it hurt him to look at her. Guess they didn’t get many female inmates.
She gripped her middle, forming a shield against everything about this place. She didn’t belong here. “No… thank you. I’m not hungry.”
“Guess not,” he said, lowering the tray to the ground outside her cell. “Is there… someone I can call?”
Symphony had no one to help her. She possibly had the money to make bail, but she didn’t have enough time to make the money back for the bank payment. To think, she’d worried when Nathan hadn’t followed her home. When he hadn’t bothered to call last night or this morning… because he’d been busy securing an arrest warrant with her name on it.
She shook her head.
“No… there’s no one.” How sad she must appear. To be alive, yet not exist in any significance to another living soul. The inheritance from her father was supposed to be a fresh start. A new beginning she’d thrown away for Nathan, the man who had inadvertently aided the arsonist in condemning her.
“Well, now. I’m in no hurry. I’ll hang around for a while,” he smiled, “maybe you’ll think of someone.”
Instantly, Nathan’s dark hair and smoke gray eyes flashed before her. Hope was the cruelest word in the English language. When she’d found the letters from the law office, she’d felt hopeful for the first time in years.
“I won’t.” The biggest change in Symphony’s life happened in a darkened hallway when she’d crash landed into Nathan. The second change occurred in a jail cell when she broke down and cried over the same man. He’d put her in handcuffs and locked her away. Pretty sad that the only person she thought of or wanted to hold her was her jailer. She’d bared her heart to the flames and come away scorched to the core. A stream of tears slid over Symphony’s cheek. Would she ever recover from the fireball of love he had hurdled at her?
***
Nathan’s shoulder ached from the weight of the hose. How could he have been so wr
ong?
“Get your head in the game, Nate,” Cutler yelled over the crackle of the flames.
He could barely move when dispatch called about another suspicious fire. Symphony… oh God, he’d put her behind bars.
“Nathan, this hose doesn’t hold itself.”
Hearing his given name from Cutler, Nathan secured his grip. Two fire trucks flanked a small wooden structure in the Bahama Village section of town. The place was some type of hair salon. Flammables had to be on every shelf because the blaze continued to spread after they doused the showroom with thousands of gallons.
“I put my woman in jail.”
“Technically, I don’t think she’s your woman anymore,” his friend said, adjusting the hose.
“All the evidence pointed to her. Even I noticed her obsession with fire, the blue lighter and cigar compulsion.”
“Man, you’re obsessed with fire. Show me a firefighter that doesn’t have a thing for the orange and blue, and I’ll hang up my gear. I’ve known Symphony longer than you, and I’ve never seen her lose control. The opposite is true, in fact. That girl works hard to not hurt anybody.”
“How the heck do I undo this?” Nathan looked to his friend for an answer.
“Don’t know if you can, man. Someone set her up pretty good.”
“Why, Cutler? Her friends love her.” He loved her.
“Maybe it’s about the money that brought her to Key West in the first place?”
“Symphony doesn’t have any money.”
“I’ve heard talk from some of my ladies.”
Nathan gritted his teeth that Cutler knew more about his woman than he did. “What kind of talk?”
“That fancy motorhome she lives in is about to be foreclosed on and her father left her a grip of cash.”
Nathan was floored. Blue had said nothing about losing her home or an inheritance. A substantial inheritance could be a motive to frame her for arson.
“You tell me this now!”
“Hey, back off, man. You’re the one that told me Symphony didn’t have food in her house. That tells me she has some real deal problems she’s up against. She doesn’t strike me as the type of woman that would be stripping because she likes to dance.”
“She’s not a stripper. It was more like burlesque.” Nathan defended.
The other man held him in a granite hard stare. “You’re the one that told me you two were serious. Well, serious stuff should be discussed if you’re in a relationship, like why don’t you have any food? Or why are you taking off your clothes for money.”
Cutler was right. How had Nathan been so blind to Symphony’s plight? Both Richard and Rachel had tried to stop him, but all he could focus on was the betrayal he felt. He’d never truly taken the time to know Symphony.
“Sorry… and you’re right. And I think… no, I know Blue tried to tell me more than once about the fires and everything, but I was too much of a coward to listen. Afraid she’d tell me goodbye. This information sheds new light on her case, Cut.”
Nathan had reviewed the details of Symphony’s case again and again. The incident when she was a child was the only fire report he could find on her. Arsonists generally had a long list of fire-related incidents. The other detail that bothered Nathan, was the fire itself when Symphony was a child. She’d been hospitalized for smoke inhalation, but her mother had been fine. If Symphony had set the fire, why was she the one that had almost died?
“I’ve been thinking about that, too. It’s not a Conch. No born and bred Key Wester could burn down our town. It’s another outsider, like Symphony.”
“You’re right. Someone close to her that knows her past.”
Nathan thought back to the small army of fire extinguishers under the RV’s kitchen sink. Arsonists had no interest in extinguishing fires.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to get her out of that damn cell as soon as this fire is contained.”
“Think she’ll want to see you?”
“Heck no, but I have to fix this. Symphony’s everything to me.”
“I feel you, man. Call me if you need backup. I would invite you to have a drink, but Rachel has everybody on high alert in case you show your face.”
“I heard.” Nathan had been formally evicted from the Hobo Alley customer roster.
“Shaky has a Taser with your picture taped to the case. Man, I gave him a wide berth when I saw that thing in his hand.”
“You tell everybody I’m coming back when I have Blue by my side.”
“Will do, my friend.” Cutler slapped him on the back before refocusing on his section of hose.
“Have Trace check out Symphony’s parents and every campground arrival in the past six months. Whoever is setting these fires knows Blue’s routine. The only reason this fire happened was because she was supposed to be working. Her arrest was the change in routine, otherwise she would not have had an alibi.”
“For your sake, I hope she’ll be grateful you put her in jail to clear her name.”
“Let me worry about convincing Symphony to take me back. You can cut down those citrus trees before I bring her home. They have my backyard humming like a city park trash can.”
“Man, a fungus ruined the crop this season. No fruit to speak of on any of my trees.”
Nathan stared at him. Trying to process what Cutler said. He thought back to the first time he’d smelled that scent, the nagging suspicion gaining traction. The important clue he’d overlooked born of his own incompetence.
He’d played into her hands. Letting the bread crumbs she planted lead him, instead of what he knew to be true about Symphony. Max had reacted both times he’d come into contact with her. Cutler had been right. Symphony never started any fires. He knew who was behind the treachery. But how could he prove it and clear Symphony’s name?
Chapter Eleven
Symphony awoke Friday morning to find the tray and Officer Friendly gone. He must have stayed until she fell asleep. She paced the confines of her assigned cell. She thought it odd that the walls were painted a vibrant shade of yellow. The color mocking and offensive to the people trapped inside. Her eyes burned from the endless stream of tears. Her throat felt raw and dry, overworked from silent sobs. Her body felt heavy and exhausted, yet sleep eluded her. She’d refused both meals, yet her stomach roiled in protest every ten minutes, threatening to send her to a kneeling position in front of the porcelain throne.
“Symphony! Where are you? It’s Bethany and Penelope.”
Symphony stopped foot trenching her cell. Though she knew better than to hope, she did at the sound of her friend’s voice.
“Bethany, Penelope, I’m in the last cell on the right.”
Symphony thanked heaven when Bethany’s nauseatingly familiar Key Lime scent reached her nose. She rushed over to the steel bars. Wrapping a hand around the bars, she leaned in close, angling her head to get a better glimpse of the passageway. Sure enough, the cowgirl cavalry had arrived.
The strike of Bethany’s boot heel vibrated against the tile floor with the force of thunder. She breathed a sigh of relief when Penelope’s plump figure, in a floral print conservative sheath, came into view. Bethany brought up the rear. She wore a form-filling T-shirt with the Key West logo with her signature cut-offs and red boots.
“You’re free, girlfriend! We paid your bail.”
A buzz that sounded louder than necessary for a space with only four cells, then the bars moved beneath Symphony’s fingers, signaling something significant was afoot. Like a giant boulder being rolled away, the barrier that separated her from the law-abiding masses was gone.
Grateful, Symphony embraced both her friends longer than necessary. “I’ll pay you back every cent, I promise.”
“No need,” Penelope said in her usual monotone, “we found your money.”
Symphony took a shuddering breath. That would mean they had been in her home. How had they known where to look? The how was unimportant. She was free.
“Thank you,” she cried, unable to hide her tears. “Thank you for not leaving me here.”
“Told you that island cowboy was bad news,” Bethany smirked.
A chill snaked up Symphony’s spine at the reference to Nathan. She’d looked to him for safety. Sitting in that jail cell, she saw the folly of her logic. She could trust herself… and Bethany and Penelope.
“Point made,” Symphony whispered, gesturing to her surroundings. There would never be a future between a fire starter and an arson investigator. Fundamentally, their natures were diabolically opposed. Nathan couldn’t change his DNA any more than she could changes hers. They would forever be at opposite ends of the same continuum.
“We sisters have to stick together,” Penelope offered in a sincere voice.
Symphony’s eyes widened at the hint of sisterhood she’d formed with these women. Like her, they were alone in the world. She had hoped love would grant her a family. A family with Nathan as the man by her side with maybe even a baby or two in their future. But after a ride in the back of a police cruiser and a night in a detainee cell, she understood that her dreams were just that. Reality was stark, and cold, and as inescapable as a maximum security prison.
Knowing that this act of kindness was more than she deserved, Symphony pasted on a smile that she didn’t feel. “When this is over, I think it’s time for a new adventure somewhere west of the Mason Dixon line,” she mused.
Bethany clasped Symphony’s right hand in hers. “We could pack up the RV and leave today.”
Symphony started to object. There would be a trial. The RV would be lost to her in a matter of days. The money she would’ve made last night at the Silken Pearl could’ve saved her home, but that was lost to her now. Truly, her situation was more dire than a week ago. So lost in her own thoughts, Symphony didn’t notice she had been led to the alley behind the police station.
“Where’s your camper?”
When a hand pushed her toward a car she didn’t recognize, she dug in her heels. “Whose car is this?”
Symphony recoiled in horror when Agatha, the decrepit secretary from the law office exited a late-model four-door sedan. “Hello, dear,” she sneered. “Put her in the car before someone sees you.”