The sky morphed into a darker purple and he stood straight, saying goodbye to another day. Turning, he walked back down the town’s long wooden pier, taking him toward the beach.
The day had stretched interminably, but he knew it must have felt longer to Madelyn. It was clear her relationship with her father had been strained…distant. And that could only serve to make her feel like a stranger at the funeral and reception.
He looked toward a bench near the edge of the pier and, as if conjured from his thoughts, there was Madelyn, her eyes trained on the bay. Her dark pumps were on the bench next to her and, while she was still in her dark dress, her hair was no longer pulled back. The breeze blew the tresses away from her face, giving her a much softer appearance than earlier at the funeral. He raised his hand, then hesitated, wondering if she would welcome him breaking the spell that the sunset cast.
Her gaze must have caught the movement because her head turned his way. He watched as recognition flitted through her eyes. Continuing to raise his hand in a small wave, the air rushed from his lungs as she smiled in his direction.
Walking over, she stood as he neared. “Hello, Zac.”
“Madelyn,” he greeted with a smile.
“Sunset watching?”
Laughing, he said, “It’s practically a Baytown resident pastime. One of the perks of living on the bay.”
Madelyn watched the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and a flashback from high school came to her, a time when she saw him running to home base during a Baytown baseball game, his smile just as wide. Blinking away the childish memory, she said, “Would you care to join me?”
Zac hesitated for only a second, wondering if her offer was sincere or if she were simply being polite. “I’d love to, but don’t want to intrude on your thoughts.”
Sighing softly, she said, “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have taken out my…frustration, on you. It was all just a bit much and I didn’t handle it well. Honestly though, the last thing I want tonight is to be alone with my thoughts.”
Nodding, he sat down on the wooden bench facing the water, now reflecting the evening colors. They sat in silence for a moment, but he found it peaceful. Many people try to fill silence with talk, but he appreciated the quiet. Glancing to the side, he observed her profile.
Her dark hair, long and loose, blew away from her face from the gentle bay breeze. Her nose, slightly upturned, gave her an impish appearance. Her complexion was pale as porcelain, but her cheeks were rosy. Her eyes were closed and he stayed quiet, wondering if she were in prayer.
Suddenly, they blinked open and she turned toward him. Her eyes were large. Brown, but in the final light of the day, he could see flecks of gold in them. As though a hidden treasure lay within. Mesmerized, he blinked when she spoke.
“I want to thank you for everything you did today…well, you and the others.”
“It was our pleasure, I assure you.”
Shaking her head slightly, she said, “To me, it was invaluable. If it had been left up to me, I would have had a private memorial with just myself, taken his ashes, and walked away. I had no idea what to do, who to notify…nothing. I am only going to be here for a week and felt overwhelmed. Though, I might have to call to have more time off.”
He watched as her eyes darkened, the light dimming as though she had flipped a switch, and he wanted to turn it back on.
She continued, “The service was lovely and so were your words. I had no idea my dad had been in the Navy, much less had anything remotely adventurous happen to him.” She looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. “It turns out there is very little I knew about him. But, at least, now I know he had friends.” A rueful groan slipped out as she added, “Friends and a life.”
“Madelyn, I don’t know what happened with your family, but you aren’t alone here. There are lots of people who will help and that didn’t stop with just today. Whatever you need, you just have to let us know. I mean, hell, try to keep Jillian and Katelyn out of your business…it won’t work.”
A smile curved the corners of her lips and his breath caught in his throat at her beauty. “Thank you,” she said, her words soft and carried off with the breeze. After another minute of peace, she said, “I’m glad that I got to see you tonight. I—”
His radio began to beep and he grabbed it off his belt. “10-38, 419 Easton Highway.”
“This is Hamilton, Station 24, responding. ETA twenty minutes.” His eyes, now alert, met hers. “Sorry, Madelyn. I’ve gotta go.” He hesitated for just a few seconds, regret coursing through his veins, before he turned and jogged to his truck.
“That’s fine. Be safe,” Madelyn called out, watching him until he was out of sight. Sighing, she glanced over her shoulder as the night continued to claim the sky.
“Fucking hell,” Zac cursed, his crew on the pumps, spraying water on the old, abandoned warehouse.
“Good thing the motorist happened by,” Greg said, his words coming through the radio.
With a nod, Zac remained quiet, watching as the gathering fire responders battled the blaze. The warehouse was the largest building the arsonist had hit so far. If it’s him. Trying to not make assumptions, he watched as the blaze licked the wood along the bottom and he knew a type of accelerant had been used for maximum destruction in as quick a time as possible.
Two more fire stations sent their trucks, adding to the three already there. The black smoke curled into the night sky, illuminated by the flames rising from the three-story building. Two more hours passed before the fire was completely out and some of the firefighters were able to go through the rubble, making sure there were no remaining pockets ready to flame again.
The State Police were sending a fire investigator but it would be early dawn before they arrived. Zac watched as the Easton police officers wrapped caution tape around, cordoning off the area. Not that there are any trespassers here anyway. He stood by the truck and looked around. The old warehouse was on a road between a few farms and the main highway, but not visible to the highway. Someone knew it was here…abandoned…close enough for us to get to and yet far enough that the wooden structure was going to burn to the ground.
Adam, the North Heron Fire Chief, and Roger, the Cherrytown Fire Chief, walked over to where he was standing. Adam, clapping him on the back, asked, “Any ideas?”
He shook his head, pulling off his jacket and tossing it to the ground next to the truck. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he sighed. “We gotta figure out a way to catch this guy. But it’s like chasing a ghost.”
“One of the reasons we love this area is because it is mostly rural, not much traffic once you get off the main road. Got low crime, although that’s changing. But it makes it an arsonist’s paradise. Too many fucking places, just off the beaten path, to start a fire.”
Roger waved goodbye and walked away, leaving Zac staring at the destruction, watching the firefighters combing, careful not to disturb any possible evidence. “You know, I’ve been thinking of that.” Seeing he had Adam’s attention, he hesitated. “Nah, never mind. I’m just tired.” With a smile that was more of a grimace, he walked back to his truck, calling for his volunteer team to begin the cleanup.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Sure, if you say so.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t see the beauty in it?”
They looked out the van window, the line of trees hiding them in the dark. Brilliant yellow flames had risen from the building, and now the embers were all that was left. Firefighters wandered around like ants over a cookie crumb left on the sidewalk. “I guess it was pretty…when the flames were shooting up. Now, it’s just a mess.”
“You don’t get it…it’s fucking beautiful. The fire. The flames against the night sky. The red embers. The smoke going from boiling to curling in wisps. “Fucking beautiful,” the whisper came, eyes still glued to the window.
A strange melancholy settled over Madelyn as she walked through
the house. She had imagined this trip to be quick—a simple funeral where almost no one would show up, cleaning the house, calling a realtor. But Baytown held a different reality.
She remembered the girls of Baytown as a teenager, idolizing the beautiful young women seen through the filter of early adolescent eyes. The fact that they had so graciously invited her friendship and taken the time to arrange the reception still seemed unreal. Not to mention the Baytown Boys. A laugh escaped her lips as she thought of Mitch, Grant, Aiden, Brogan, Callan, and of course, Zac. As a ninth-grader they were as unattainable as climbing Mt. Everest, but now, they not only planned her father’s funeral service, but Zac even delivered a eulogy.
When she left the memorial reception, she was sure that her plan was to call David Wills the next morning and have him come out and make an offer on the entire contents of the house. She would not have been upset to have him back a truck up to the front door and haul away all the furniture and other antiques her father had collected. Whatever was left, she would donate to Goodwill. Hire a cleaning crew to give the house a thorough scouring and then call a realtor. One week and she would be back home.
But, now, standing in the living room, her fingers drifting over one of the cabinets, she thought back to the words that were spoken today about her father. A good man. A man who preferred his own company but would come to the aid of others. Shaking her head, other thoughts battled to the forefront. A man who drank so much, his wife left him, taking their daughter and he did nothing. A man who would talk about his war experiences with someone but never seemed to mention his daughter to anyone. A man who never tried to get to know his daughter. A man who’d rather spend time with antiques than his daughter. His daughter…me.
Blinding anger choked her and she grabbed a vase nearby and, whirling her body around, threw it against the far wall. The crash resounded through the tomblike house as she watched it shatter into a million pieces. Slumping to the floor, she buried her head in her knees, waves of grief washing over her, her heart resembling the shattered glass.
7
The bedroom window faced the east and the early morning sunlight streamed in. Most people would have covered the glass with more than blinds, but Zac liked waking to sunshine. He would lay in bed for a few minutes as his mind ran through what needed to be completed during the day. And right now, his thoughts were a swirl. Job challenges…arsonist…and a certain, beautiful woman with haunted eyes that was only in town for a week or so.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood, moving to the window to peek out of the blinds. The blue sky, dotted with fluffy clouds, greeted him as the sun was rising over the tops of his neighbor’s house.
A shower later and on his first cup of coffee, he thought of meeting Madelyn last night on the pier. She said she had wanted to see him, but his call interrupted whatever she was going to say. Wondering if he should try to meet her again, he looked at the clock. Just enough time before he had to be at the station.
Within five minutes he was standing in Jillian’s coffee shop ordering breakfast, smiling as she walked over to join him.
“You almost never come in for breakfast,” she accused with a smile on her face. “In fact, I do believe that you and most of the boys hit the diner early in the morning.”
“That’s cause there, we can just say ‘coffee’. Here, we gotta know words like latte, cappuccino, and ordering something skinny.”
Throwing her head back in laugher, Jillian plopped down in the seat across from him. “You do not, silly. You can get a plain cup of coffee here and you know it.”
He met her grin and dug into his eggs and bacon. After a moment, he caught her staring at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” she grinned, “I just like watching someone enjoy the food they get here. And, I get the feeling that you’ll talk to me when your stomach is full.”
Wiping his mouth, his eyes twinkled. “Okay, okay. Yes, I have an ulterior motive for being here.” Sobering, he wondered if this was a good idea—after all, the women had a gossip line that stretched for miles. Her hand reached across the table, landing on his arm and his eyes jumped to hers, seeing a seriousness replacing the usual mirth.
“Zac, you can talk to me. I promise, it won’t go any further.”
Nodding slowly, he tossed his napkin down and held her gaze. “I was just wondering about Madelyn.” Seeing the spark of interest in her eyes, he rushed, “Not like that…I mean, she’s gorgeous and all, but she’s leaving as soon as she gets her father’s affairs settled. And I’m not enough of a cad to try to hit on a grieving woman.”
“Zac, you’re not a cad,” she protested. “I know you’re not exactly into relationships, but you seem to keep your…uh…affairs quiet. Not like Aiden,” she added, rolling her eyes.
“I’m no monk, but yeah, I try to keep things simple. The few women I…well…see, know that it won’t lead to anything. And I guess I must pick ‘em right, ‘cause they don’t seem to want anything more than a night either. Honest to God, though, Jillian, it’s probably a lot less than you think.” Shrugging, he explained, “I just don’t see romance in the same way that the rest of you do.” Chancing a look into her eyes, he saw understanding and a flash of sympathy, the latter being something he hated. She said nothing, for which he was grateful.
“Anyway, I was wondering about Madelyn. I ran into her last night at the pier and we talked for just a moment before I got called out again. It just felt like there was something she wanted to say to me, but we didn’t have time.” Leaning back in his seat, he heaved a loud huff, shaking his head. “I thought about going by to see her…to see if she needed anything, but she was so closed off at the funeral and I didn’t want to intrude. It’s kind of like walking on a landmine around her.”
Nodding, Jillian agreed. “I know what you mean. I get the feeling that there’s a lot going on under the surface, but I have no idea why she was estranged from her dad.”
He observed her eyes leaping to his, sympathy in them, so he hurried to ask, “So, you didn’t really know her back in high school?”
“No, I didn’t. They didn’t live here in town and since she was a couple of years younger…” her voice trailed off, her eyes looking over his shoulder, but not focused. Sighing, she added, “It’s embarrassing to admit, Zac, but in high school, while I like to think that I was a nice person, I was also more interested in watching Grant play ball, hanging with Katelyn, and picking out my homecoming dress.” She dropped her head, shaking it slowly.
“Well, if it’s any consolation, I was more interested in which girl’s pants I could get into and know that Grant felt the same about you.”
His grin met hers and they sat silent for a moment, their adolescent past slowly rolling by in their memories. “But, to get back to your original intent on seeing me today, I would say…take a chance and just go by to see her. She’s probably lonely and would welcome the company. The girls and I were going to wait until tomorrow to go by.”
Standing, he tossed down some cash and leaned over to kiss the top of her head. “Thanks, Jillian.” Walking outside, he felt the sunshine beaming down as he made his way down the street.
Mildred nodded as Zac walked into the police station, her smile wide. “Chief Evans is expecting you.”
Returning her smile, he said, “Ms. Score, you’re as beautiful as ever. Hope Coach knows what a peach he’s got.”
She cackled, her hand sneaking up to pat her purple-grey curls. “He still remembers how to compliment his wife, just as much as he remembers coaching all you boys when you were younger.”
“Well, tell him I said hello,” he said with a nod, before moving down the hall to Mitch’s office.
Mitch stood, welcoming him into the room. Looking about, it was the same type of ordered chaos as was in his office as well. They shook hands before settling down in the chairs. Mitch’s was the old, creaky wooden one his father had used when he was chief, and probably the same one his grandfather had used when
he held that position as well. Zac settled in the metal chair, noting the legs were not even and rocked slightly every time he shifted.
“You did good at the funeral yesterday,” Mitch said, his gaze warm. “Not that I was surprised, but it was amazing the story Lenny told you and that you were able to share it.”
“Thanks. It makes me wish I’d been around him longer. Maybe if I’d gone by when he missed some meetings, then…I don’t know.”
“Don’t take that on,” Mitch warned. “You can’t save everyone.”
His eyes jumped to Mitch’s and his retort died on his lips. Finally, after a moment of staring, he relaxed in his seat, mumbling, “Yeah…”
“So, what did you want to talk about?”
“Did you see the latest state budget?”
Mitch’s eyes narrowed and he said, “I always look it over but now you’re making me think I missed something. What’s up?”
Scrubbing his hand over his face, he said, “As you know, we’ve got five fire stations in North Heron County and fifteen in Accawmacke County, so that’s twenty in total. Each one’s got a paid Fire Chief, who is in charge of volunteers, training, and responding. For our county, only two have a separate Rescue Captain. So for the rest of us, we’re also the main EMT, in charge of those volunteers as well. I know each police and sheriff department has officers who have some medical training, but we’re spread thin. Okay, all of this you know, but the latest state budget is looking at giving the poorer counties an extra paid position. Accawmacke doesn’t qualify, but North Heron does.”
Cocking his head to the side, Mitch leaned forward. “Fuck, man, I can’t believe I missed seeing this.”
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