At the bar, Aiden looked at his brother. “You checkin’ out Zac and Madelyn?”
Brogan glared. “What the fuck? Are you a chick or what?”
“Jesus, Brogan, I’m just sayin’ that it looks like he’s crashing and burning.”
Brogan shot a glance to the vault, seeing Zac staring down at the table and Madelyn’s eyes looking everywhere but at him. “Maybe they’re just…I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m gonna go talk to them,” Aiden said, gaining an eye roll from Brogan.
“You sure you don’t have an ulterior motive?”
Aiden, normally easy going, glared back. “Seriously, bro? Jesus, Zac’s one of my oldest friends. I’m not cutting in on that action. I just want to help.” With that he headed around the bar toward the vault, leaving Brogan watching from behind.
“Yeah, but she’s only gonna be in town a week or two. That aint’ what Zac needs,” Brogan mumbled under his breath.
Katelyn came from the back with the takeout lunches for her and Gareth. Catching the last of their exchange, she said, “What was that about?”
Shaking his head, Brogan said, “Got no idea, other than it looks like Aiden might be growing up after all.”
“Baytown’s own Peter Pan?” she laughed, tossing him a wave on her way out the door.
“Maybe so,” Brogan said to no one, his eyes still on the vault.
9
“Hey, y’all,” Aiden called out, grabbing a chair and pulling it up to the end of the booth, startling Madelyn.
“Oh…hi,” she greeted.
Zac sent a glare his way, wondering what his friend was up to.
“It’s nice to see you out and about, Madelyn,” Aiden said, his eyes fully on her. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you the other day, but I’m real sorry about your dad.”
“Thanks,” she said. Madelyn remembered the MacFarlane boys in high school and Aiden was the one who always had a girl, or two, on his arm. Seeing the grownup version, she could easily imagine him still having women lining up for a chance with the affable Irish charmer. Glancing at Zac, she noted a tick in his jaw as though he was grinding his teeth.
“How long are you here for?”
“Well, I took a week off work, but once I saw my dad’s house, I know I’ll have to call and ask for another.”
“Good, then you’ll have a chance to get to know Baytown again. If you need someone to show you around, just give me a call.”
“She’s not here for a social visit,” Zac bit out, kicking Aiden under the table. “She’s taking care of her father’s estate.”
“Well, all the more reason for her to come out and enjoy herself while she’s here,” Aiden said with a wink.
“Uh…” she muttered, her gaze shifting between the two men, uncertain what silent messages were being passed.
“Don’t worry about her not having someone to show her around,” Zac retorted, his eyes pinned on Aiden. “I’ve got her.”
Madelyn’s heart skipped a beat, hearing Zac’s proclamation, but instead of being annoyed, a warm feeling slid through her body. Her lips curved slightly as she relaxed in her seat.
“I think the lady should choose, don’t you?” Aiden pushed, his grin now fully wide.
Furious with Aiden, first for interrupting and then for putting Madelyn on the spot, Zac was moving forward to get rid of him, when she gave her answer.
“Thank you for the offer, Aiden, and I’d love to spend time with everyone who was so kind in helping with the funeral, but,” Madelyn’s eyes shifted to Zac, seeing him staring at her, intensity in his gaze, “if I need someone to show me around, I think I’m covered.”
A shit-eating grin spread across Aiden’s face while he pushed his chair back, standing. “Good choice, sweetheart. Glad you made the right one.” Bending, he planted a kiss on the top of her head before walking back to the bar, where Brogan flicked the towel from his shoulder, hitting him in the chest. “What? Just thought they needed a little push, that’s all,” Aiden protested, rubbing the sting.
Madelyn looked across the table as a light blush rose over Zac’s face.
Zac shook his head, still stunned at Aiden’s tactics. “Sorry about him. Brogan swears their mom dropped him on his head when he was a baby.” She laughed, a sound he wished he could hear more from her.
“You might be right. Anyway, I suppose it was a good way to get us back on track.” Seeing his head tilt in question, she said, “It’s okay to ask me questions, you know. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t.”
He met her smile with one of his own. His forearms were resting on the table and he turned his palms up. “I’d like to know more about you,” he admitted. “I can’t imagine having to uproot your life for two weeks to deal with all you are facing here. What is your job?”
“I’m a counselor for a mental health group.”
Eyes wide, he said, “We’ve got a good mental health center here in town. In fact, several of my friends have received or are currently in sessions. Mostly to do with PTSD, I suppose.”
Nodding enthusiastically, she said, “That’s what several of my friends specialize in. It seems there is a never-ending client list. Many came back from their times in the service having to work through issues.”
“Do you have a specialty?”
“I work mostly with addictive behaviors.”
“Really,” he said, leaning forward. “Like drugs and alcohol?”
“Yes, but I work with young people, mostly adolescents or children, that have these types of behaviors.”
“Damn,” he said, his voice betraying his surprise. “It’s hard to imagine young people with such problems.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve had teens already addicted to drugs or alcohol and elementary children already huffing. Even children that have a fascination with pyrotechnics…oh, wow, I just thought about this in terms of you being a fireman.” She leaned forward, saying, “Have you ever had to deal with a child that continually set fires?”
Shaking his head, he replied, “No…not children. Well, actually, I’ve never had a case of someone with that kind of behavior.” He grew quiet for a moment, his mind working over the arsonist case. Looking up he realized his silence seemed to have made her nervous, as her hands fluttered together. Without thinking, he reached across the table and grasped her hands in his much larger ones. “Sorry, I was just thinking about a case we’re dealing with.”
Her eyes sparked with interest. “Really? Can you tell me about it?”
“Not much to tell, really. We just keep getting called out for fires and they’re all set intentionally. So, it looks like we’ve got a serial arsonist on our hands. Our departments are stretched to the limit and the State Police are now involved.”
Madelyn observed the tension in his jaw and the frustration in his creased brow. “This is weighing on you, even as much as you like your job.”
Zac blinked at her statement, realizing she was not asking a question but was, instead, seeing inside of him. Nodding, he sighed “Yeah.” He wanted to say more, but found the words did not come, so he fiddled with his napkin. Looking up, he said, “What about you? I know you love your work, but do you love your job?”
“I’d like to pretend that I don’t know the difference, but you’ve got it right,” she confessed. “I do like working with people, but the large, city clinic where I work has gotten very…” she spread her hands out as she searched for the right word, “political.” She chewed on her bottom lip before adding, “The director seems to have an agenda and that is less about being a good counselor and more about taking in more money. I sometimes wonder if he was ever a counselor or was always just an administrator.”
“I feel that way sometimes about the politics of my job, as well,” he said, leaning forward, his gaze locked with hers.
“It’s so frustrating, isn’t it—”
Interrupted by their food being served, they smiled as they dug in to their enormous pub burgers. Going for a fre
nch fry first, she moaned in pleasure at the perfectly crispy, seasoned potato. He could not keep the smile from his face as he watched her relish her food.
Relaxing, he enjoyed his lunch, not able to remember the last time he had felt a connection with a woman. And she’s leaving in a little over a week. Taking a risk, he swallowed his bite before asking, “I know you’ve got a lot to do, but would you like some help…and company, this week while you’re here?”
In the middle of swallowing, she widened her eyes and nodded as she finished. Blushing, she laughed, “I’m sorry…I should take smaller bites.”
“No way,” he said, his smile wide. “I like to see someone enjoy food as much as I do.”
Nodding, she said, “And, in answer to your question, I’d love to have your company this week. Please don’t feel like you have to help me—”
“It’d be my pleasure,” he hastened to add. “Really. It just seems like we have a good connection…I’d like to spend more time with you.”
Wiping her mouth with her napkin, she smiled, “Okay, then. I’d love the help and to get to know you better.”
An hour later, after sharing phone numbers, he was dropping her back off at the house. His fingers had lingered on the small of her back longer than necessary and now he found himself hating to say goodbye.
She stuck her hand out, “Thank you so much for lunch, Zac. I hadn’t realized how much I needed some company.”
He took her hand in his but, instead of shaking it, bent to kiss the back. Her smooth skin was warm to his lips and, for an instant, he wished it were her lips instead. Lifting his head, he held her eyes, saying, “It was my pleasure.” Hesitating for a moment, he asked, “There’s a beach party coming up for the safety members. Would you like to go with me?”
Her smile melted his nervousness away as she beamed up at him. “I’d love to, thank you.”
Bending once more, he kissed her cheek before heading back to his truck, a matching smile on his face.
Stepping inside, Madelyn looked around at the mess, no longer overwhelmed by the tasks in front of her. With her step a little lighter, she moved into the kitchen, tossed her purse down, and leaned her hip against the counter, wondering what room to start on next. Her purse vibrated and she pulled her phone out, checking the messages. Zac?
Had a great time. Can’t wait to see you again. Z
Laughing out loud, she could not remember the last time she had smiled so much. Her fingers flying, she fired off a simple reply.
Me too! Maddie
Staring down at her phone, she wondered why she signed it Maddie. She had not gone by that nickname in more years than she cared to remember. Dad used to call me that. She had almost forgotten, having long since buried that underneath all the other memories she refused to think about.
Pushing off the counter, she walked into the living room to continue moving furniture about.
10
Zac parked outside the North Heron Sheriff’s Department building, noting the number of cars already in the parking lot. Grant rode with him, the two discussing the case during the entire drive. Entering the building, they walked into the huge meeting room, the gathering even larger than the last time they met.
Zac nodded at the other Fire Chiefs, as well as the law enforcement personnel he recognized. Once settled, the State Police ran the meeting, but to Zac’s surprise, they announced that they were on an as needed basis and not taking over the case. He knew the agency was budget constrained, as most government agencies were, but assumed they would be completing the actual investigations.
A guest FBI arsonist profiler spoke next and, at this, Zac leaned forward.
“There are a variety of arsonist types and they are delineated by their motives, which usually fall into one of the following categories. The For-Profit arsonist is attempting fraud and is the least emotionally or psychologically motivated of all arsonists. They are going for a high level of damage because they want to destroy the property for financial gain. This is not who you are looking for since, so far, the buildings have all been old and abandoned, with no financial gain to be had.
“The Thrill-Seeker arsonists tend to be adolescents, and are often groups rather than an individual. The motive could be relief from boredom or a gang initiation. The ignition method is uncomplicated and routinely accompanied by vandalism and theft. I also do not suspect this is what you are looking at, due to the settings in which the fires occur and the large area or range of fires.
“Juvenile fire-starters often start fires in their own homes. Again, I don’t suspect this because your fires have been over a wide range of the counties, not something easily attainable by a child or teen.”
Zac thought back to what Madelyn had told him of working with a child who was addicted to fire starting.
“Crime-Concealing arsonists are not concerned with the pyrotechnics of fire, but are wanting to use the fire to conceal another crime. So far, this also does not appear to be what you have either. Terrorists or social-protesters who start fires usually are quick to take responsibility for their group’s agenda.
“So far, you’ve heard me talk about what you do not seem to be dealing with. But, the last type of arsonists, the Hero or Vanity Arsonists, are the most difficult. Because they blend in with you and me.”
Zac glanced to the side at his fellow Fire Chiefs and lifted his brows, seeing their interest piqued as well. Still, fear gripped his heart as he knew what was coming.
“These types of arsonists are the hardest to deal with due to the number of firefighters that are in the area. I’m obviously talking about the immense number of volunteers your stations use and have used over the past several years. Now, that is not to say that it is always a former or current firefighter or law enforcement officer, but they make up a preponderance of this type. They are driven by boredom or vanity, wanting to be one of the guys, motivated by ego and crave the spotlight by arriving on the scene to help put out the fire. They are often young, inexperienced, or may even be a rejected applicant. They are driven by the desire to prove themselves. And,” he cast his eyes around the room, still holding Zac’s rapt attention, “they usually hit abandoned buildings. They are not trying to hurt anyone. But as you well know, people can die in any fire.”
One of the older Fire Chiefs stood and asked, “So, how do we go about looking for this person? We’ve got twenty fire stations across the two-county area of the Eastern Shore, each of us utilizing a huge number of volunteers.”
“Good question,” the agent said. “You can start combing through your current and past records, looking for possibilities, but make sure you don’t go on a witch hunt. Your job, and the job of the law enforcement personnel in this room, is to work on identifying the arsonist, hopefully before someone gets hurt. Not an easy task. You’ll find yourself beginning to doubt those around you. You’ll look at your personnel—that you’ve been trained to trust to have your back—and begin wondering if it might be them. But you need to work together, especially to see if you can find any location patterns with the fires.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” Greg said under his breath to Zac.
Nodding, Zac agreed, but also wondered where they would find the time to comb through records. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he listened to the rest of the program.
As he walked out of the building after the meeting, he noticed the two women he hoped he would be able to meet with. “Janet. Ann,” he called out, walking over to the two Rescue Captains.
“Zac,” they greeted, smiles on their faces.
Janet was a tall woman, muscular, with a blonde bob, some already going grey, which she made no attempt to color. She gave off a self-assured air, confident and down to earth. Ann, several inches shorter and several years younger than Janet, had sharp eyes that made Zac feel as though very little escaped her notice.
“Do you have a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you about something.” Grant had already secured a ride back to Baytown with Ginny, so Zac had
time to talk.
“This got anything to do with the new Rescue Captain position coming up in Baytown?” Ann asked.
“You don’t miss much, do you?” he grinned.
“Nope,” she replied as Janet chuckled.
“I’d like to rely on your discretion at this point, since I’m not firm on a decision yet.” Gaining assurances from both of them, he continued, “I’m thinking about going for that position. Right now, I’m running both operations, fire and rescue, and I’m stretched to the max.”
“The last thing you need to do is burn out,” Janet said, her warm eyes on him. “And the last thing this county needs is for you to burn out. You can’t do your job properly if you do that.”
“I think it comes down to what you love best,” Ann declared. “I know you have a love of both firefighting and rescue, but if you had to choose one over the other… Of course, you’ll still be answering calls for both no matter which job you have, but the decision will lie in the job you love the most.”
“It appears the money will be about the same,” he said. “I’d still be over the rescue volunteers, but a new Fire Chief will handle the scheduling of the fire volunteers.”
“That’s right. That’s how it’s handled at our station,” Janet confirmed, nodding emphatically.
Ann, in a gesture of friendliness, said, “Take care of you, Zac, so that you can keep taking care of the county.”
Thanking the two women, he climbed in his truck, his thoughts swirling for the entire trip back to Baytown…the jobs, the arsons, and the beautiful woman he wanted to see again, even if her stay was short. After all…that’s good for me.
The hot bath felt wonderful on Madelyn’s tired muscles. Having spent the afternoon moving furniture, she realized how out of shape she was. Sinking into the deep water, she grinned. But the work was worth it. Revitalized after her lunch with Zac, she had attacked the living and dining rooms with vigor. She took the lighter pieces of furniture that David had said were not valuable and hauled them to the back porch. Zac had told her he would help her move them to the shed later. That still did not cull the mess as much as she would have liked, but the welcome news was that there were a lot more valuable antiques than not, so that would be good when she was ready to sell.
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