by Jane Charles
“The kid committed arson. You better find out who it is.”
“It could have very well been an accident too,” I point out.
He straightens and glares at me. “Do I need to question each one of them?”
Shit. I don’t need Bailey, of all people, questioning the campers. Especially when I already know who the arsonist is. I glance over and see Brett. If only he was a cop, then this would be dealt with properly.
Brett steps forward, pulls a slim wallet from his back pocket, and flips it open. “FBI. I’ll take care of this.”
He is fucking FBI. No wonder Ashley didn’t tell me anything about him. I would have never agreed to a date with him. Shit!
“Probably another bleeding heart liberal,” Bailey says as he walks back to his car. “Don’t come complaining to me when you’re all murdered in your sleep.”
“If that happens, it would be kind of difficult to complain, now wouldn’t it?”
The firefighters are hosing down the tree on fire, and two closest to it that had also started to burn. Thank goodness there is no wind tonight or this could have been a complete disaster.
A counselor and therapist walk over.
“Take him up to the carriage house and sit with him. Don’t let him out of your sight.”
“First,” Brett steps forward. “I want to search him, just to be safe.”
The kid’s arms go out and he spreads his feet without instruction, as if he’s not new to this. Brett pats him down and comes away with two books of matches and a lighter.
“They know they aren’t supposed to bring anything like that with them.”
“Maybe he found them here, or you need to start searching the kids before they enter the camp.”
I watch as they lead the kid up to the house. I’ll need to find his file and make a call.
“Thanks for not contradicting me to Bailey.”
The left side of his mouth turns up in a half grin. “Trust me, I ran into him earlier when I was with my uncle. The guy’s an ass.”
I give a half chuckle and then shrug. “I guess the date is over.” I gesture toward the front of the camp, hating that it’s ending so suddenly because of something like this. But, I can’t very well go back to my date of enjoying pizza and conversation when there’s a dangerous kid in camp.
Hell, they all can be dangerous, but for the most part, we rarely have issues with the campers because they are so glad to be free of where they came from. Even if it is for only a short time and most of them don’t want to mess it up.
This isn’t how I thought the date would go, but I’m not exactly ready to leave yet either. “If you don’t mind, I’ll stick around.” I look after the kid. “He looked a little too happy watching the tree burn.”
“Yeah, I noticed that too,” she says absently and a little worried.
I may not know Jacqueline very well, or at all for that matter, but my protective instinct is on high alert. That kid’s a pyromaniac. The gleam in his eyes was unsettling. “I’m glad you didn’t let him go with Bailey. That kid needs professional help, not incarceration.”
Jacqueline whips her head and looks at me with wide green eyes. “You get it!”
“Get what?”
“That just because a kid screws up doesn’t mean it should be an automatic jail sentence.”
“Of course not. Too many variables figure in.”
Slowly she smiles at me. “What do you know about this camp?”
I shrug. “It’s a summer art camp for underprivileged kids.”
She still smiling. “It’s a tad bit more.” She turns toward the front of the planation. “Why don’t you come up with me? I need to talk to the kid, make a few calls, and make sure everything gets back on track. Then we can talk.”
“Happily.” I am quick to agree. Of course I want to spend more time with Jacqueline.
“The carriage house, which used to actually have carriages, was converted to offices, a bedroom and living area when the camp was established.”
“Didn’t it used to be a living history planation back in the day?” I could swear I’d heard that before.
“Yeah, it was. But after we stopped getting many visitors the family turned it into a camp for kids almost twenty years ago.”
We reached the carriage house that sat on the opposite side of the drive at the back of the plantation house that could have been in movies like Gone With the Wind.
“Does anyone still live there?” I nod to the house.
“My grandmother, younger brother, and me.”
I follow her inside the carriage house and two adults are sitting with the pyromaniac. The look in that kid’s eyes is still disturbing. “Why did you build a fire when you know it’s prohibited?” Jacqueline asks him.
He shrugs. “Wanted to.”
“Why build it so high?”
He grins. “Because it’s awesome.”
A chill goes down my spine. What if his urge for a fire would have come later, like when everyone was asleep and he would have decided to set one of the cabins on fire instead? I hope Jacqueline realizes how lucky they all were.
“Well, I’m calling your caseworker.” She points to an open door. “That is where you will be spending the rest of the night.” Inside it looks like there’s a bedroom. “You won’t be left alone.” She looks at each adult and they nod their head before she looks at the kid again. “And, you’ll be gone in the morning.”
The kid comes to his feet, hands fisted at his side. “You can’t do that. I had a promise of two weeks and I just got here.”
“You violated one of the rules.”
“Because of a little fire?”
“One that could have burned down the entire camp,” I point out.
There’s that cold gleam in his eyes again. Maybe Jacqueline should have let Bailey take him and lock him up in jail for the night. But, he’s a kid and would most likely have been put in juvie over in Poughkeepsie, since that was the closest facility.
The kid glares at Jacqueline. “You’ll be sorry for this.”
I’m not sure what the kid can do, but the warning is ominous and I don’t want her anywhere near the pyro. Maybe his thrills don’t just come from fires, but other things just as potentially deadly.
“What’s your name?” she asks.
He closes his mouth, sits back down and crosses his arms over his chest, staring at her defiantly.
“George Casterns,” one of the adults answers.
Jacqueline nods and heads up the stairs.
I’m torn between following so I can keep an eye on her, or staying down here to keep an eye on George. I opt to watch George. He’s too dangerous, even if there are two guys sitting with him.
Jacqueline’s gone about fifteen minutes before she comes back downstairs. “I talked to your caseworker. Because of the severity of the situation and what you did, he and another social worker are coming up tonight. They should be here in about three hours.”
“Fuck!” The kid shakes his head and then glares at me.
We step outside as the fire truck is coming up from back. They stop and Captain Russ Harper steps out. He’s a good friend of my Uncle Quinn and their boys, Kian and Cole, have become best friends. They’re about the same age as the kid waiting to be picked up.
In college and while at Quantico, I’d sat through all kinds of classes on the psychology of why people do things, what might make them tick, but reasons are never cut and dry and you still wonder why one kid is drawn to fire while other kids collect Yu-Gi-Oh cards. “Do you know what happened?” Harper asks, though the cause was pretty obvious and he wasn’t warning Jacqueline about building such large fires.
“Turns out we have a pyro in the group.”
“Should we just hang out?” I know he’s joking but it’s odd that the Captain doesn’t seem too surprised or alarmed.
“He’s getting picked up in about three hours, so all should be good.”
“Good to know,” he said and got b
ack in his truck. “Call if you need us.”
She walks back toward the camping area. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather hang out here, until George is gone and to make sure the kids are not too upset.”
“Sure.”
“And, I’ve got two guys watching which leaves the others understaffed.”
“I can help,” I quickly offer, so not ready for this date to end, even though it has to be the oddest date I’ve ever been on.
A tall, lanky guy saunters up to us. “Does this mean banana boats are off the menu for tonight?”
Jacqueline looks around. “Nope. Why should the others be punished for the actions of one?”
The teenager looks at me and then kind of sizes me up.
“Brett, this is my brother, Theo. Theo, Brett Robak.”
I stick out my hand and he shakes it, giving me a nod. I take it as approval, which I’m glad to accept since I do plan on seeing his sister again, on hopefully a less unusual date.
Theo heads back to the group gathered around the picnic tables.
“What are banana boats?”
A look of ecstasy comes over her face. “Only the best thing in the world.”
In that moment I’m struck. I want to see that look on her face again. But, I want to be the one to put it there.
Chapter Five
I can’t believe Ashley set me up with someone who works for the FBI. That’s all I know because we didn’t discuss it while with the campers. Maybe he has a desk job and does boring reports. But, where the hell does he work? We don’t have an FBI office anywhere near here.
He didn’t bolt and run.
Brett didn’t have to hang around after the fire, but he did. We took over the supervision of a group of campers and had a really good time sitting around the fire and getting to know the kids and what their art interests were, and making banana boats. I can’t believe Brett had never had any.
“So, let me remember this,” he says as we are walking back through the woods.
Brett is holding the flashlight so we can see where we are going and as soon as we’re away from the others he slips his hand in mine. My hand heats immediately and my fingers tingle. Will he kiss me before he leaves? Maybe I’ll just kiss him. Then I decide against it. He seems like an old fashioned guy and probably wants to be the first to make any kind of move. But, I so want that kiss. And to be honest, more. I can’t remember the last time I was drawn to someone like this.
His ice blue eyes are anything but cold, and his smile, slightly crooked, draws me in. Brett is completely different from any guy I’ve gone out with before and maybe that’s a good thing.
I just hope he wasn’t being polite by hanging out tonight and has no intention of calling me later.
Then again, he did grab my hand as soon as we stepped in the woods so that’s got to mean something, right?
“You pull back just one peel on the inside curve of the banana. Scoop out enough to make a trench.”
“And eat it,” I remind him. “No waste at Baxter.”
“Of course.” He laughs. “Then fill the trench with mini marshmallows and mini chocolate chips. Put the peel back down, wrap it in foil and put it at the edge of the fire long enough for the insides to melt.”
“Yep, that’s it. Weren’t they wonderful?”
“Actually, they were. I was kind of surprised,” he admits. “We never made anything like that when I was a Boy Scout.”
Oh, my God, he is such a Boy Scout. All good deed, kind, clean cut. Not that I have anything against former Boy Scouts, I just hope there is a bit of naughtiness beneath that gentlemanly surface. “Ah, I bet you had a bunch of those foil dinners with the hamburger, potatoes, onions and carrots.” My mouth waters. I loved making those. Not that we did at the camp, but I remember my grandparents doing that for dinner a couple of times in the winter when we lost power. The fireplace would be going to keep the chill out of the room and we’d all sit around cooking our supper and then eat on the floor in front of the fireplace. Just like camping, my grandpa would always say. And then we’d get into our sleeping bags and sleep in the one warm room in the house until power was restored.
“More than I can count.” He laughed. “Do the kids make their own meal like we had to as Scouts?”
“No. Just things like s’mores and banana boats at night. They are too busy during the day. And, we want them to relax and have fun. Not worry about their next meal. They deal with that enough in the real world.”
He just nods. I haven’t really told him all that much about Baxter. We didn’t really get a chance because we were always surrounded by people. But, Brett wasn’t put off by the kids. He knew they were underprivileged and I think he was beginning to suspect some might have other things going on that make their life difficult, but it didn’t seem to bother him. Unlike Bailey, who would like to see the place shut down.
“So, the camp runs all summer long.”
I nod. “Kids start coming at the beginning of June and the last group leaves at the middle of August, right before school starts. Some only stay for a few weeks and some a month. It depends on their age, maturity and things like that.”
We reach the gravel road and cross over to our cars. There are two raccoons on the picnic table.
“Well, at least somebody enjoyed the pizza we left behind.” Brett chuckles.
“I am so sorry about tonight.” I do feel the need to apologize. I was on a date, but I couldn’t ignore the emergency at Baxter. None of my relatives along the lake had either, not that I spoke with them, but I saw them come through the woods and talk to Theo or one of the firemen before they nodded and returned home. We all have an investment in seeing this camp thrive. It was our grandfather’s dream and even though the adults have careers, they still put in time at the camp when they can. My Uncle Mark and Aunt Emily were the only ones who remained behind because they are in charge of the camp. They go home at night to sleep, but it’s still walking distance. It’s not necessary that they live on the grounds because we have a ton of adult to supervise the kids.
Brett squeezed my hand. “Don’t be sorry. A bit unexpected, but not in a bad way.”
My stomach begins to relax. I really like this guy, but banana boats with a bunch of teens isn’t usually a perfect first date.
We clean up the mess left behind by the raccoons and toss all the trash into the dumpster hidden behind an old wooden fence then walk to our cars. We stop at mine.
“So, what are your plans for tomorrow, Jacqueline?”
I didn’t even try to hide the smile on my face. He does want to see me again. Yes!
“We have activities at the camp tomorrow that I need to be around for.” I like to get to know the kids after they arrive. Today had been all paperwork. Tomorrow I planned on joining some activities.
“When will it be over?”
“Sixish.”
“Dinner tomorrow night? I’ll try not to have a flat tire.” He grins at me.
“Sure.” My heart is beating so hard and he’s standing so close that I can feel his body heat.
“Good! I’ll pick you up around seven?”
That will be cutting it close if I’m to get home and ready on time. “Seven thirty?”
“Perfect.” He steps closer. “We can continue the twenty questions of getting to know each other.”
“I’d like that,” I say, looking in to his blue eyes that seem to be darkening.
His hands slip around my waist, nearly scorching my skin through my dress as he leans in and places a hot, lingering kiss on my cheek that makes my blood boil.
“See you tomorrow night,” he says as he opens my door.
I practically fall into the driver side because my knees have gone weak. I’m not even sure I can drive. Damn. What would have happened if he would have kissed me on the lips? Maybe I don’t need a bad boy hidden beneath the Boy Scout. I might not be able to handle it.
“So, how did last night go?” My Uncle Quinn is grinning at me.
“You’re such a shit,” I return.
He just laughs and starts putting burgers on the grill.
“Are you dating Jacqueline Baxter?” Russ Harper asks. We’re all sitting around in O’Brien’s backyard for a cookout. Not that I plan on eating anything since I do have dinner plans.
“Last night was our first date.”
“And?” My uncle adds hot dogs to the grill for the younger kids.
I quickly sum up the night for them, leaving out details. Of course, Harper already knew about the fire.
“Aren’t you glad I didn’t give her a ticket?” my uncle grins at me.
“The only reason you stopped her was because her name came up when you clocked her.”
Harper looks between us and O’Brien quickly explains why he stopped Jacqueline, which I already guessed.
He laughs. “Well, she is cute.”
Cute? Well, she is that, but hot, gorgeous, wonderful laugh, very kissable lips, a killer bod and amazing legs. Not that I dare voice any of those thoughts to these two, especially my Uncle Quinn.
Helen, Quinn’s wife, starts calling for the kids to help her with the food, and they dart from the backyard where they’d been playing kickball. The O’Brien’s have seven kids in all. Kian is their natural son, and the other six are adopted, ranging in ages from Kian, who just turned thirteen to Rosalyn at age seven. She and her sister, Deirdre, are the newest additions to the family, having been adopted earlier this year, and prompted the O’Briens’ move from New York City to a smaller town. They wanted a home for their kids, not a crowded apartment, and a yard, small town and good school. Uncle Quinn left the police force in New York and joined the State Police and it seems to have worked out well for all of them.