Safe From the Fire

by Lily Rede

  Grace grumbled, but only muttered, “Maybe you just need to up your game, old pal.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my game,” said Colin, affronted, “And if you’d like to talk Evie into a three-way, I’d be happy to show you.”

  Grace elbowed him in the ribs as he chuckled.

  “Then again, I don’t need Matt skinning me alive,” he said, shaking his head.

  Grace shivered, remembering Matt’s outburst at the bar.

  “Don’t even joke about it,” she said.

  HE WATCHED FROM THE trees, the sights and sounds of the fire and the aftermath now familiar to him, and though this house didn’t matter as much, and was yet another decoy, he was vaguely disappointed that it hadn’t burned to the ground. There was something almost sexual about watching the fires consume the buildings, swallowing them whole.

  There was only one more to go, one that really mattered, and then he could finally stop. He was surprised to find that the idea left him feeling a little empty – for someone with such an ordinary life, this whole situation had been somewhat exciting.

  The Mallow boy and his sister were over by the ambulance with the mayor while Matt Harris and the new deputy, now both wearing helmets and protective jackets, approached the unburned side of the house with flashlights, scanning the ground.

  He tensed, knowing what they would find – he’d made sure to do a poor job of hiding both the gas can and the toolkit. The lighter was in his pocket, but he reasoned that it might be a little too obvious if he’d left that behind. Besides, the lighter was a gift from his father.

  They uncovered his little clues, as expected, and he waited for the revelation. Any moment now, they would rush over to Adam Mallow and throw the boy into the back of the Sheriff’s Department SUV, the clear perpetrator of the crime.

  That didn’t happen.

  Matt opened the sooty toolkit, checked the contents, and examined the gas can, then closed the kit and, after a consultation with Evie Asher, put both can and toolkit in the back of his truck.

  What is going on?

  This was unsettling and not according to plan.

  He shook off the unease – there wasn’t anything more he could do tonight. Besides, he had one more fire to set in the next day or so, and then his life would get back to normal.

  Odd, how that seemed so depressing.

  MATT SIGHED TO HIMSELF as he caught sight of a determined Grace marching down Main Street the following morning. Even from a few blocks away, she was unmistakable – the purple braid and that luscious ass draped in a long, black lace skirt gave her away. He knew where she was going and lengthened his stride to catch up. Along with the rest of Bright’s Ferry’s police and fire authorities, Matt was cranky and exhausted – he’d gone home alone to catch a few more hours of sleep in sheets that smelled of sex and Grace, and was almost resentful when he stepped in the shower this morning to wash away the traces of their coupling. Despite his fears and their uncertain relationship, he wanted her mark on him, permanently.

  “Grace.”

  She paused, and before he could say anything, held up her hand.

  “I don’t want to hear it, Matt.”

  “This isn’t a good idea.”

  “I know as well as you do that that toolkit you found belongs to Cal Iverson. His fucking name was stamped on the side, Matt. I’m just going to ask him a few questions.”

  “You’re not a cop, Grace!”

  “Neither are you!”

  She glared up at him, and Matt carefully put his hands on her shoulders.

  “Look, we know that the arsonist is a local, so Evie and Tony have their hands full investigating the fire locations and keeping track of the checkpoints in and out of town. Colin’s trying to prevent the Town Council from going into full meltdown, and the Fire Department has been a little busy, if you hadn’t noticed. Let’s just say I’ve been unofficially deputized.”

  Grace shook her head in disbelief and broke free to start down the street again, and Matt had to take a few deep breaths to control the urge to grab her and drag her back home, where he could keep her safe and distracted from any thought of putting herself in danger. He was certain she’d find it harder to argue with him if she were tied to his bed and filled to bursting with his cock. A shiver raced up his spine – he knew she craved bondage, but that was going to take some serious mental girding of loins.

  He caught her by the waist, keeping his hands gentle, and she stilled immediately as he pulled her back against him in a careful embrace. His breath ruffled her hair.

  “What if it’s not a coincidence and Cal is the arsonist, Grace? It sounds crazy, and I’ve always thought Cal was a great guy, but what if I’m wrong? This guy has burned five buildings, Grace. Five. Whether they’re connected or not, that’s just not rational. How do you think he’s going to react if you confront him? He’s already broken into your house once.”

  “He hurt Adam,” Grace seethed, but slowly relaxed back against him.

  The knots in Matt’s stomach eased a fraction.

  “I suppose you could come along,” she finally said, grudgingly, and though Matt rolled his eyes, he was quickly coming to see that while Evie craved his domination in the bedroom, she was never going to be compliant and obliging outside of it.

  A few locals stepped out of the nearby market and glanced their way, curious and disapproving. Evie stiffened and, a little too casually, pulled herself from Matt’s embrace, putting a solid couple of feet between them.

  “Why do you do that?” Matt asked, pissed, “I thought you didn’t care what they think? God, it kills me that you don’t stand up for yourself and tell them to mind their own business.”

  “I don’t care what they think of me,” she countered, “I care what they think of you.”

  With that baffling statement, she stomped away, and Matt only caught up with her as she entered the hardware store, a medium-sized labyrinth of everything from plumbing supplies to paint. Matt was sure that half of his house had once resided on Cal’s well-stocked shelves.

  That she hadn’t shared her fears with Adam was apparent, because he was busy restocking a shelf full of lightbulbs as the overhead bell jingled merrily.

  “Hey, Gracie. I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

  The kid was looking a little worse for wear, judging by the bandage on his forehead and the dark circles under his eyes. He was manfully trying to put on a cheery face for his sister.

  “What are you doing here, Adam? You’re supposed to be resting. I thought you were still home, asleep.”

  “I needed to keep busy, and Cal said there was work, so – ”

  Adam shrugged as Cal came out of the back room, wiping dusty hands on a rag. His sleeves were rolled up and Matt was arrested by the sight of a nasty burn along one arm. It was recent. Very recent.

  “’Morning, Matt. Grace. What can I do for you?”

  “What happened there, Cal?” Matt asked softly, indicating his arm.

  “Accident with a blowtorch.”

  “Really?” asked Grace, skeptical.

  THE TEMPERATURE IN THE room seemed to drop to Arctic levels as a steely-eyed Matt held Cal’s gaze. Grace looked pissed and a little scared, and Adam watched the three of them face off, fascinated and horrified.

  “I don’t like what you’re implying,” said Cal, “If you have something to say, just say it.”

  “We found your toolkit at the Murphys’ house along with the gas cans that were used to set fire to the place last night.”

  Adam heard Grace’s words drop with the impact of a bomb, and barely managed to avoid reacting, keeping his expression only mildly curious.

  The toolkit. The toolkit he’d “borrowed” from the shop to fix up Grace’s house and left at the foot of the stairs. The one with his fingerprints all over it. The attacker, who must have taken it, had been wearing gloves.

  Say something. But his lips wouldn’t move. If he admitted that he borrowed it, it would seem like he’
d been over there – as though there was no attacker and he was injured setting the fire. If he didn’t say anything, Cal would surely figure it out. As Adam waffled in indecision over which was the less cowardly outcome, Cal took the decision out of his hands.

  “I’ve got a lot of toolkits, in case you hadn’t noticed. It’s kind of my thing. Might be that I had a work order from the Murphys landlord last week and one of my guys accidentally left it over there.”

  It was possible – the hardware store crew did a lot of handyman work on the side.

  “Did you?” demanded Grace.

  “Did I what?”

  “Have a work order?”

  Cal shrugged.

  “I get a lot of work orders. I’m sure there’s a record.”

  “We’d like to see it, if you don’t mind,” said Grace, gently pressing Matt’s fingers as the big man tensed beside her.

  “Sure. Tell Tony to send you back with a warrant and I’ll show you anything you like.”

  Matt was angry, and Adam shrank back in spite of himself as he stepped forward into Cal’s space.

  Whoa.

  Suddenly, pushing his sister at the giant firefighter didn’t seem like the best idea in the world. But Cal was no pushover either.

  “My family’s been running this shop for decades. I run a respectable operation here, like my father did before me. Think I’m going to let you come in here and accuse one of my guys –”

  “Now, listen here – ”

  But Grace surprised Adam, smoothly stepping between the two men, pressing her hands against Matt’s massive chest.

  “Matt,” she said softly.

  He held himself tense for a moment, and then stepped back, taking a deep breath. Grace turned flinty eyes on Cal.

  “This has to stop, Cal. Anything you can tell us would be helpful.”

  Cal hesitated and then finally said, “I can’t say how my toolkit got over to the Murphy’s, but I will say this. Based on all the rumors I’ve heard about the fires, how they started, how they never manage to burn more than the building that’s intended, I would say that the arsonist would have to be someone who knows a fair amount about repair and building materials.”

  “Great, that narrows it down to anyone from those idiot kids in woodshop to old Dreyer himself,” muttered Matt.

  “No, this is good!” said Grace, and Adam could practically see the “librarian” emerge as she pushed her glasses up her nose and ticked off her fingers, “He’d have to know something about electrical wiring and how to disable the sprinklers, right? And if he swiped one of your toolkits, he must have come through here at some point.”

  “I can have Silas print out a list of everybody who made a purchase over the last month or so, if that would help,” offered Cal reluctantly.

  “Yes, thank you,” nodded Grace.

  “Silas!”

  Silas Jankowsky was not a good looking guy, and if there was a sense of humor under those sullen eyes and the shock of greasy hair, Adam had yet to find it. He wondered why Cal kept the young man on as his store manager – he barely spoke to the customers, which was probably just as well. He was built like an ox and had a reputation for being a bully. Adam was being careful to stay well out of his way.

  The only time he’d seen him smile was when Ellen Schwartz, birdlike and nervous, entered the store. She’d taken one look at Adam and shrieked, knocking a box full of screws to the floor as she jumped back. Adam wasn’t at all surprised – he’d set fire to her house once upon a time, and though he’d dutifully written and delivered his letters as Grace had insisted the day after his arrival, he’d been expecting this kind of reaction sooner or later. Flustered, she’d hurried away, and as Adam had stooped to clean up the mess, he’d spotted Silas smirking before he lumbered back into the shadows.

  Cal explained what they needed and Silas grunted an affirmative, but Adam wasn’t paying attention. He was too worried about how he was going to keep his sister safe when the arsonist had clearly decided to make him the scapegoat for these crimes, and Adam knew for a fact that Grace was not going to let that happen, no matter what the consequences.

  Adam barely noticed Matt and Grace taking their leave, and Cal giving him a long, measuring look before disappearing into the back office.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AT NOON, GRACE GAVE up on work and left everything in Fiona’s capable hands. There was practically nobody at the library anyway – the news of the Murphys’ fire had everyone scared and staying close to home. It was just as well, since Grace felt out of sorts. After leaving the hardware store, she and Matt had discussed various possible suspects to report to Evie and Tony – construction workers, handymen, some of the more industrious teenage delinquents, and so forth, but when Grace set out her plan to do a little more in-depth digging, Matt had expressed his disapproval. Loudly.

  At least he’s coming to realize that I’m really not scared of him. She’d had no trouble yelling at him in the middle of the street and had finally flounced away, furious that he didn’t seem to understand that she had to do something. More and more, it seemed as though the sarsonist was setting Adam up to take the fall – she’d be an idiot if she didn’t consider him a suspect, but her gut told her it couldn’t be true. He’d changed, she was sure of it.

  So Matt had headed off to deliver a copy of Cal’s customer list to Zeke, and Grace had tried to shove her irritation aside and get to work. An hour later, she was home alone, feeling tense and annoyed. Her clothes felt too tight, so she peeled them off and wrapped herself in a silky green robe and flopped down on the bed to brood.

  A slight twinge reminded her that a short twelve hours ago, she’d finally had Matt Harris where she’d been dying to have him, hard and hot between her thighs. She shivered, remembering it.

  If only he didn’t have to make things complicated.

  She was surprised by how willing she’d been to throw caution to the winds – well, maybe not that surprised, given that she’d been lusting after him for so long. What did surprise her was that when he stopped worrying about it and just gave in to his fantasies, Boy Scout Matt Harris had a wicked, edgy fantasy life and a delightfully dirty mouth. She wondered how much further he’d be willing to take it before his fears pushed him to back off. Grace knew that his desire for more of a relationship from her was still doomed, but she was done pretending that she wouldn’t take every morsel of him that she could get for as long as he’d let her. Pathetic.

  She liked him, and that was why it was best that they have some fun and then go their separate ways. He’d realize it eventually, when the stares and whispers got to be too much, and when he figured out that he couldn’t fight everyone who said something cruel about her. And when he finally rejected her – yes, that was going to hurt, but she was tougher than she looked.

  Grace curled into her pillow, wondering what kind of girl Matt would ultimately end up with and wishing that the thought of him with someone else didn’t sting quite so badly.

  RAFAEL TOOK ONE LOOK at Matt’s face and grinned.

  “Congratulations, man! You got laid!”

  Matt looked up from the map he was marking up in the mess at the fire station and shook his head in disbelief.

  “Don’t ask me how I know. It’s a gift.”

  Rafael clapped his friend on the shoulder and took a seat. Unlike the rest of the department, who looked haggard from long shifts, interrupted nights of sleep, and frustration, Rafael was fresh and alert, and had jokingly attributed his seemingly boundless energy to wheatgrass and tons of sex.

  “So, how was it?”

  Matt glared at him, but Rafael just grinned.

  “Come on, man, with you going all ‘Fire Department Police Liaison’ on me, I haven’t seen you all week. Give me every little disgusting detail.”

  “I’ve been a little busy.”

  “I can imagine.

  “Don’t.”

  “Well, I’m glad to see you got over your fears. Grace is a lucky woman.
I can’t wait to see you two lovebirds together, give the town busybodies something to talk about.”

  Matt hesitated. There was no way in hell he was going to tell Rafael about Grace’s sexual preferences, but –

  “Grace doesn’t want a relationship.”

  Rafael raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.

  “She just wants sex. I mean, I know some guys would kill for something like that – no strings, no commitment, no romance, but – ”

  “But you’re not ‘some guy.’”

  Matt sighed, nodding, as Rafael leaned back in his chair, pondering the problem.

  “Any chance you could convince her to change her mind?”

  “I’m working on it. But we had a fight, and now – ”

  He shrugged, uncomfortable, rolling his shoulders.

  “Then what are you doing here, man?”

  Matt shuffled his papers.

  “Trying to connect anybody on this list of Cal Iverson’s customers to the fire locations.”

  Rafael rolled his eyes and reached out a hand.

  “I’m not just a pretty face, you know. Give. Go. Take a few hours to convince her she can’t live without you. All of this will be here when you get back. Promise.”

  Matt hesitated, tempted, and finally pushed to his feet. Hell, he couldn’t concentrate anyway, not when he knew Grace was mad at him. At the very least he could go make things right. Then maybe he could focus on tracking down the arsonist.

  THE FINGERS TRACING HER cheekbone were warm and slightly rough. And familiar. Grace pulled herself out of sleep, becoming aware of the dip in the bed where he sat by her side.

  “Matt?” she murmured, dragging her eyes open.

  “The door was unlocked, Grace. I wouldn’t have just come up here, but for a moment, I thought – ”

  His jaw tensed and he stroked her cheek again, her eyelids, her lips. It felt so good, she had to open her mouth for a quick brush of her tongue against the pad of his finger. His breath hitched.

  “The front lock is broken. Adam was going to fix it,” she yawned, “It’s on the list.”