Into the fire, p.11
Into the Fire, page 11
“Work.”
Her volunteer chauffeur wrinkled her nose. “At least I can leave the job behind for the day after my shift ends. A hot new case?”
“No. Still dealing with the Les Kavanaugh investigation.”
“You ever decipher that code you asked me about at the restaurant?”
“I’ve made a little headway, but it’s led to more questions than answers. I feel like I’m trying to play a connect-the-dots game with half of the dots missing. And Sarge is starting to shut the investigation down. I’m going to have to relegate a lot of the work to after hours if I want to keep it alive.”
Alison shook her head. “When I hear your stories and see the long hours you work, I’m glad I’m not a detective. Firefighting is hard, physical labor—and my alternate days playing paramedic have their own challenges—but on the plus side, my brain isn’t fried at the end of my shift. And my free time is my own.”
“I hear you. So how were your days off?”
“Quiet, other than my lunch with you on Friday. But I had my book to keep me company. This weekend’s a different story. My sister’s coming. Only for two nights, but I’ll take it.”
“That’s great.”
“I know.” She accelerated onto the highway. “Even though Columbia isn’t that far away, we don’t get to see each other often. I’ve tried to convince Sophie to move to St. Louis, but she prefers life in a smaller town. Me, I couldn’t wait to live in a big city. To each his own, I suppose. She loves the grade school where she teaches, even if her odds of meeting Mr. Right in that environment are small.”
“Maybe she’s happy being single.”
“That’s possible. After all, a woman doesn’t need a man to lead a full, rich life—present company being an excellent example of that. To tell you the truth, I think my experience has made her gun-shy of marriage. Unless, of course, Nate and I end up back together.” The corners of her mouth rose again in a wistful smile. “Hope springs eternal and all that.”
“I’m all for whatever makes you happy, as long as he gets his act together. And I’d love to meet Sophie sometime.”
“I have a full agenda planned for us already, but why don’t we all get together during her next visit?”
“Let’s plan on that.”
The conversation moved on to other topics for the remainder of the drive. Not until Alison braked at the garage did the subject of work resurface.
“Good luck with that tonight.” She waved a hand toward the laptop and tote bag.
“Thanks.” Bri gathered up her belongings and opened the door. “I’ll take all the luck I can get.”
“You can always call on that ATF agent for help if you get stuck.”
“He’s already back in the loop.”
Alison groaned and rolled her eyes. “I told you those Fed types like to be in charge.”
“Not this one. He hasn’t tried to take over.”
“Glad to hear it. Is he nice?”
“Uh-huh.” Very.
“Young?”
“Relatively speaking.”
“Handsome?”
Oh yeah.
“That would be a fair description.”
“Single?”
“As far as I know.”
Alison grinned. “I wouldn’t mind working with a Fed who had all those attributes, either.” She glanced in the rearview mirror as another car pulled in behind her. “If you ever need another lift, give me a call.”
“I will. Thanks again.” Bri closed the door and hoofed it toward the garage while her chauffeur pulled out of the lot.
Some women would have let relationship problems sour them on marriage. But despite the bum hand she’d been dealt in the romance department, Alison still viewed the world through rose-colored glasses and saw Cupid’s arrow everywhere.
Sweet, but dangerous. Because a starry-eyed outlook could also blind you. It was far safer to be pragmatic and learn from mistakes, as she had after her dreadful experience in Idaho.
Better to be slow and cautious than fast and sorry.
As Alison’s taillights disappeared in the distance, Bri pushed through the door of the garage, rummaged through her purse for her wallet, and reviewed her priorities for the evening.
First, she’d grit her teeth and pay the hefty bill for four new tires. Then she’d go home, nuke a frozen dinner, pore over the mystery files again, and try not to dwell on Marc’s worry that the flats were more than mere bad luck. That they were an attack . . . a payback . . . retaliation . . . revenge.
Ignoring that possibility would be foolish, however. And no one had ever called Bri Tucker foolish.
But if the flats did represent retribution, what was she supposed to do about it? She didn’t even know where she’d picked up the nails. And how could she figure out who was behind it if she didn’t have a clue what had motivated the attack?
She inched forward in the line, forcing herself to take a deep breath.
Worry and panic would get her nowhere. Those emotions had been dangerous and distracting during her smokejumper days, and they were dangerous and distracting now. She had to corral them, as she’d done on the disastrous day she’d almost lost her life.
And she would.
If someone was trying to make her life difficult, she wouldn’t let them rattle her. She’d carry on and keep doing her best, as she always did.
There was one big difference this go-round, though.
Marc was in her corner.
Yes, they were new acquaintances. And yes, her instincts about men had failed her once. But her eyes were wide open now.
So unless fate was setting her up for a second spectacular fail with the opposite gender, Marc was the real deal.
Whether he’d end up helping her solve the puzzle Les had left remained to be seen, but one thing was for sure.
If she got stuck while trying to solve this case, or if someone really was trying to wreak havoc in her life, Marc was standing by as her backup.
That was comforting.
Nevertheless, as she paid her bill and the attendant handed over her key, Bri sent a silent plea heavenward that her future encounters with the charming ATF agent would be confined to the Les Kavanaugh puzzle rather than the consequences of someone bent on playing sick practical jokes—or worse.
TEN
MARC FINISHED RESPONDING to a text from his boss, hit send, and glanced toward the doors in the lobby of the medical office building.
No sign of Bri yet.
He pocketed his cell and leaned back in his chair.
Catching her on the fly to discuss the Kavanaugh puzzle wasn’t ideal. A leisurely chat over another round of coffee and treats would have been far preferable.
But with the week he’d been having, this was as good as it was going to get—and it was better than a phone call.
The doors whooshed open, and Bri entered on a gust of late-afternoon autumn air.
He rose from the seat he’d claimed near the fountain in the center and waved to catch her attention.
Smoothing a hand over her wind-tossed hair, she hurried toward him. “It’s blowing a gale out there. I think a front is moving in.”
“That’s what the meteorologists are predicting. Sorry to bring you out in all this.”
“I’ve been in worse weather. You want to sit here, or talk somewhere else?”
“Here is fine.” He motioned to the chair beside his.
“Everything okay with your grandmother?” She took the seat he’d indicated and set her tote bag and purse beside her.
“TBD. They x-rayed her wrist. Now she’s waiting back at her doctor’s office for the verdict—and none too happy about it, either. She thinks I overreacted.”
“I don’t.” Her response was instantaneous and adamant. “If someone I loved told me they’d lost their balance and fallen, I’d do the same thing. Especially if they were dealing with repercussions from surgery and radiation.”
“Thanks for that.” During their earlier phone call, Bri hadn’t asked for more information beyond the quick briefing he’d given her on Nan’s diagnosis and treatment regimen, but her support was comforting. “She’s the only family I have, so I’m extra careful.”
“I hear you. Family is everything. My brother and sister and I hovered over my mom too after her heart began to fail. Her deteriorating health was one of the reasons I moved home.”
A woman with strong family connections.
Nice.
She pulled a notebook out of her tote and flipped it open. “I don’t want to tie you up in case your grandmother needs you.”
In other words, she was redirecting the conversation away from personal subjects.
Nothing new there.
“I know you want to keep the momentum going with the Kavanaugh case, and I have a packed day tomorrow. More packed than ever since I’ll have to make up for this unexpected blip in my schedule. Otherwise I wouldn’t have asked you to drive out here.”
“I didn’t mind. But we could have talked by phone.”
True. Except in person was far better. With the cell pressed against his ear, he wouldn’t have been able to see her expressive blue eyes or catch a whiff of the faint, spicy fragrance that wafted his direction with every shimmer of her blond locks.
Selfish, yes, but maybe she was enjoying this face-to-face visit as much as he was.
A man could hope, anyway.
“In-person meetings tend to be more productive.”
She snorted at his lame excuse. “Not in my office.”
“Let me rephrase. One-on-one meetings tend to be more productive—and satisfying.”
Their gazes locked for a second before she pulled hers away. “Let’s, uh, test that theory. I assume you reviewed the reports I sent?”
“Yes. I spotted a number of commonalities.”
She nodded as he rattled them off. “I saw all that too. Les was the lead on one of the two fires I identified in our database. I talked to the investigator on the other one, who often worked with him. He remembered them chatting about the case. I assume that’s how Les got clued in to the similarities. The fourth one remains a mystery. My boss suggested it could be from another jurisdiction.”
“If that’s the case, how would Kavanaugh have known about it?”
“After all his years in the business, he had a ton of contacts. Mostly in neighboring areas, meaning the case could be nearby. But it would take a fair amount of digging to unearth it, and there are only so many hours in the day.”
While that was true, the woman sitting across from him was the type to find those hours, even if they had to be carved out of sleep.
“You’re still going to try, aren’t you?”
She brushed off a piece of dried grass the capricious wind had pasted on the bottom of her jacket. “I’ll continue poking around whenever I have a spare minute. I noticed that in both Les’s and Adam Long’s cases, family asked about missing items from the fire scene.”
“I saw that too. I presume you’re going to talk to James Wallace and the other victim’s family, see if that’s a pattern.”
“Already done. Neither noticed anything missing, although they couldn’t say for certain there wasn’t. Nothing much was left to find in any of these cases. Nor did either of them recognize the other names on the list.”
“So what’s next?”
She sighed and pushed her hair back. “I don’t know. I’d like to find the name associated with the first date on the list. It’s possible something in that case would spark an idea or two.”
“But Kavanaugh had that information and it apparently didn’t trigger anything for him.”
“I know, but we also have the evidence in his case to work with as well. We know items were missing from two of the fires. Les may have suspected foul play, but the clock fragment gives that theory heft. An arsonist could have taken a souvenir.”
“That’s possible. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we divide up the nearby jurisdictions, and as our schedules permit see if we can find a name to go with the first date on Kavanaugh’s list?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Seriously? Don’t you have a full plate already?”
Yeah, he did.
But if he didn’t offer to help, he wouldn’t have an excuse to continue seeing her.
“No fuller than yours, I expect.”
“I don’t have an ailing grandmother to attend to.”
“You have other family obligations.”
A shadow passed over her features. “Not health related. Mom and Dad are both gone now.”
So she was as parentless as he was—though he at least had Nan.
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” She watched a stooped, white-haired man trundle slowly by behind a walker, her expression melancholy. “They were older when they adopted us, but I hoped we’d have them longer than we did.”
Bri and her siblings were adopted?
That was news.
Before he could try to ferret out a few details on that subject, she frowned, straightened up, and once again shifted back to business. “I’ll go ahead and draw up a list of nearby jurisdictions, along with contact information for the fire investigation units, and send you a copy. You can pick as many or as few as you want to check out, and I’ll tackle the rest.”
“That works.”
“Is there anything else we should talk about today?”
Yes. Her family background. The story behind her limp. Her career out West. Whether she’d be open to another Saturday morning get-together—one that wasn’t work related.
But she was already stowing her notebook, preparing to end their impromptu meeting.
While patience wasn’t his strongest virtue, perhaps he should leave his questions for another day. The lobby of a medical office building wasn’t an ideal place to dive into personal subjects.
“Nothing that can’t wait.”
She threw him a cautious look as she stood. “I’ll email you the list tomorrow, or later tonight.”
Definitely not a nine-to-five woman.
He rose too. “I’ll watch for it. Let me walk you to your car.”
“Thanks, but I’m not far away and the wind is fierce.” She retreated a step.
“Wind doesn’t bother me—and you wouldn’t want me to disappoint my grandmother with such a lapse in etiquette, would you?” He motioned for her to precede him.
After a brief hesitation, she started toward the door.
Outside, the shadows had lengthened and dusk was fast approaching as they trekked across the parking lot under the leaden sky. The gusty wind was also a force to be reckoned with. He’d have to pick Nan up at the door after she was done, even though she’d protest.
Like Bri had protested this escort.
What was it about him that activated her proceed-with-caution impulse? Was it him personally, or was she gun-shy about all men after the bad experience she’d referenced out West?
He mulled that over as the wind buffeted him, and more than once he had to fight the temptation to take her arm. Especially as her limp grew more pronounced the longer they walked.
And it was a long walk.
Bri wasn’t parked as close to the building as she’d indicated. In fact, her car was at the far end of the thinning lot.
She spoke as if she’d read his mind. “Sorry for the hike. I’m a little farther away than I thought. The place was packed when I arrived.”
“I don’t mind the exercise. I was behind my desk most of the day—my least favorite place to be.”
“I hear you. I loved the wide-open space out West, and despite all my fieldwork in this job, there are days the walls feel like they’re closing in on me. But that’s not a new—”
In the abrupt silence, he assessed her. Her lips were clamped together, and she’d picked up her pace.
What had she been about to say? Why was she plagued by a feeling of walls closing in on her?
It was clear from her furrowed brow, however, that she had no intention of answering those questions, either.
“I’m right here.” She indicated her car with a flick of her wrist as she approached, then dug through her purse and extracted her keys without slowing her stride. As if she couldn’t wait to relieve him of his escort duties.
Unfortunately, his phone cooperated with her. It began to vibrate as she rounded the trunk.
He skimmed the screen.
Nan.
She must be finished with her appointment.
Much as he’d like to eke out a few more minutes with Bri, he needed to get Nan home ASAP. After this latest setback, she’d be exhausted.
He put the cell to his ear. “All finished?”
“Yes. I’m in the lobby. Where are you?”
“Already in the parking lot.” That should deflect any protests about curb service. “I’ll pick you up in less than five minutes. What’s the verdict on the wrist?”
“Slight sprain, like I told you. Nothing to be concerned about. I’ll wait at the door.”
He slid the phone back into his pocket and pulled out his keys.
“How’s your grandmother?” Bri had already tossed her purse and tote bag onto the passenger seat.
“Fine. It’s just a sprain.”
“Glad to hear it.” She angled away from the wind. “I’ll get that list to you as soon as I can.”
“I’ll watch for it. Thanks again for meeting me here.”
“No problem. It gave me an excuse to leave my desk behind earlier than usual. And for once, I’ll beat my brother to the restaurant where we meet for dinner every couple of weeks. Talk to you soon.”
She slid behind the wheel, closed the door, and started the engine.
Marc backed off as she pulled out, lifted a hand in farewell, and strode toward his car at the other end of the lot.
Nan was waiting when he pulled up at the entrance. As he set the brake, she opened the door and eased into the passenger seat.
“Why didn’t you let me help you?”
“You can help me with the belt.” She pulled it out with her uninjured right hand and extended it toward him. “Besides, I was afraid that wind would knock me over, and two falls in one day would be ridiculous. The sky is also threatening to open at any moment. And to tell you the truth, the faster I can get out of here, the better. I’ve had my fill of medical facilities.”
