Count to Ten (46 page)
“Burned to the ground,” Westphalen murmured. “When?”
“After the boys had been there nearly a year,” Mia answered.
Murphy leaned over and picked up the photo. “How did you find this?”
“The fire was documented in insurance records.” Reed shrugged. “It was a hunch.”
Mia shook her head. “It was better than a hunch. I found Shane Kates’s death certificate listed in the county’s database. Cause of death was respiratory failure.”
“From the fire,” Aidan said.
Mia nodded. “Exactly. Reed looked up Shane’s death date in his insurance database and cross-referenced the Youngs and found they’d filed a claim the following week for their house which had been destroyed in the fire.”
“This picture was from the local fire department,” Reed said. “They’re pulling together the firefighters that responded that day so we can get more information, but it was almost nine years ago.”
“So,” Westphalen mused, “Andrew set the fire and his brother died.”
Mia nodded. “The brother he’d gone to great lengths to protect.”
Westphalen’s eyes had narrowed in thought. “It’s a significant trauma.”
“One a person might bury for nearly ten years?” Mia asked.
“Possibly. A compulsive personality might chew it to death or deny it entirely.”
Spinnelli frowned. “I’m still missing something. Why is ten the magic number?”
“That looks like the easiest question to answer.” Mia slid two faxed pages to the middle of the table, side by side. “Shane’s birth certificate from Michigan and his death certificate from Illinois. I overlooked the death date in the computer the first time I searched because the numbers are nearly identical to his birth date. One digit off.”
“Shane Kates died on his tenth birthday,” Westphalen murmured.
“In a fire,” Reed confirmed.
Mia sighed. “Count to ten and go to hell.”
“So what next?” Spinnelli asked.
“Track down the Youngs and their sons,” Reed said. “He’s done things in order as much as he can. It makes sense the Youngs are next.”
Spinnelli nodded. “First thing in the morning I want you in... what’s the town, Mia?”
“The Youngs lived in Lido, Illinois.”
“Get down to Lido and find them. Murphy and Aidan, you’re on call. Dismissed.”
Saturday, December 2, 7:25 P.M.
M
ia was searching the Internet for the Youngs when Reed leaned his hip against her desk, closer than was wise. She’d keep it professional. “The meeting went well.”
“Yes, it did. It’s coming together. We should have him soon.”
“You go on home to Beth. I need to work a little longer.”
“You didn’t go apartment hunting today.” His voice was a smooth murmur.
She gritted her teeth against the shiver that prickled her skin. “No, but my bag’s in my trunk. I’ll stay with Dana. Percy has food till tomorrow. I’ll come and get him then.”
“Use Lauren’s place one more night, Mia. I won’t bother you, I promise.”
From the corner of her eye she saw Murphy alone at his desk, watching in that quiet, shrewd way of his, then she looked up at Reed. She kept thinking she’d be prepared, but every time she looked at his face it still hurt. She kept thinking she could look at his chest without wondering if he still wore his ring on the chain. Without some small part of her hoping he’d take it off. That she’d be enough to make him want to.
Which was as pathetic as it was stupid. “Reed, stop. It’s not fair.”
His shoulders sagged. “Call me when you get to Dana’s, so I know you’re okay.”
She waited until he was on his own side of the desk before speaking again. “When you get home, make sure you talk to Beth.”
He frowned. “Why?”
Mia hesitated. “Just tell her you love her, okay?”
Uncertainly he nodded. “I will.” He gathered his things and left.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to mess up his face?” Murphy asked.
“No.” She turned back to her computer. “I’m going to find the Youngs, then call their local PD and warn them. For now that’s all I can do.”
“You know, Mia, that little kid today. Jeremy. You were good with him.”
So was Reed, she thought.
We made a good team.
“Thanks. He’s a nice boy.”
“I bet he’s feeling scared right now. I bet you could find out where they took him.”
She thought of Jeremy, scared and alone. “I found out in case I got done early.”
Murphy came over and turned off her computer. “There, you’re done early. I’ll look for the Youngs. You see Jeremy, then go to Dana’s. I’ll call you if I find something.”
“Thanks, Murphy.” Her throat closed up at the sympathy in his eyes. “I have to go.”
By the time she made it down the stairs she was back in control. Which was a good thing, because a woman with a blond braid waited outside the main door. “Do you want anything else, Carmichael?” she asked acidly. “Like maybe my kidney?”
“I know where Getts lives.”
Mia stopped. “Where?”
And how long have you known?
Carmichael handed her a piece of paper on which she’d written the address. “I didn’t mean for your address to go in the paper. I’m sorry.”
Mia almost believed her, the girl was that good. She took the paper anyway. “Stay out of my way, Carmichael. And you’d better hope you never need a cop.”
Carmichael’s eyes narrowed. “I’m serious. I didn’t know. Mitchell, you’re as close to a meal ticket as I could hope for. I would no more try to get you killed than fired.”
Now Mia’s eyes narrowed. “What? What do you mean, fired?”
“I was there the night of the Adler fire. I saw Solliday come out of your place. It would make good gossip, but if you’re fired my meal ticket’s gone. I really didn’t put your address in that story. My editor did. He thought it would spice it up. I am sorry.”
Mia was too tired to care anymore. “Fine.” When she got to her car, she called Spinnelli, gave him the information. “Have Brooks and Howard make the collar.”
“You don’t want him?”
A week ago, it was all that mattered. Now... “I think I need a vacation.”
“You’ve got the time. When this is over, take some. Go to the beach. Get a tan.”
She laughed even though she didn’t want to. “You’re obviously thinking of somebody else’s skin. Call me if they get Getts, okay?” She had important things to do.
Twenty minutes later she was knocking on the door of the emergency foster home in which Social Services had placed Jeremy. He was sitting on the sofa, watching TV.
“He hasn’t moved all day,” the foster mother said. “Poor thing.”
Mia sat down next to him. “Hey, kid.”
He looked up at her. “Did you get him?”
“Not yet.”
“Then why are you here?”
He sounded just like Roger Burnette. “I came to see you. You okay?”
He nodded his red head, his freckled face sober. Then he shook his head. “No.”
“I guess that was a stupid question. So, I’ll try again. What’s this show?”
“The history of jet aviation.”
She put her arm around his shoulders. “Okay.” After a few minutes of rigidity, Jeremy put his head on her shoulder. And stayed that way until the show was over.
Saturday, December 2, 9:20 P.M.
Mia pulled into Dana’s driveway, later than she’d wanted. She’d stayed longer with Jeremy than she’d planned. But after the week she’d had, it felt good to sit with a small boy who’d needed her to be there as much as she’d needed it herself.
She had her hand on the front doorknob when Dana and Ethan moved into view through the window. Dana was laughing and Ethan had his hand on her stomach. Then he leaned down and talked to Dana’s middle and just like that, Mia understood.
To her consternation, there was no wave of joy. Just a huge empty sadness. And shame. Her best friend was pregnant and had been too concerned about her emotional state to bubble her happiness.
How selfish can I be?
Tonight, pretty damn selfish. Like a coward, she backed away and almost made it to her car when the front door opened.
“Mia?” Dana stood on the front porch shivering. “Come in, for heaven’s sake.”
Mia shook her head. Pursed her lips. Drew a breath and forced a smile. “I just realized I’m late. I promised...” But no lie leaped to her tongue and Dana’s face fell.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you.”
“I know.” She swallowed hard. “I’ll come by tomorrow and get all the details.”
Miserably, Dana nodded. “Where are you staying tonight?”
“With Lauren.”
When hell froze over.
“Hey, do you have room for another kid?”
“Actually, we do. Social Services has the kid that was coming back to his mom.”
“I have a kid that needs a good place. His mom was murdered last night.”
Dana’s eyes filled. “Hormones,” she muttered. “What’s his name?”
“Jeremy Lukowitch. He’s a nice kid.” Who deserved better than what he got.
But then don’t we all?
“I have to go. Get some rest.” She grinned awkwardly. “Boil water.”
He’d had to park on a side street far away not to be seen as he waited. But it was worth it. Through his binoculars he saw Mitchell talking to the redhead, then she got in her car and drove away. He followed her.
He hadn’t even been waiting all that long, having made a stop on the way, wanting a backup. A check of the public records showed her mother’s address. And on a lark, he’d looked for Solliday’s as well. Sooner or later she would show up at one of those places. And if he got desperate, he’d planned to wait outside the precinct. But as luck would have it, none of those measures were called for. He’d found her. He’d follow her, and when her guard was down, he’d take her out. Sooner or later she had to sleep.
Abruptly she sped up when she got to the highway, slipping in front of a big truck. He floored it, his heart in his throat. But she was gone. She’d lost him.
I lost her.
His temper was ice cold. Fine, he’d just make her come to him.
Saturday, December 2, 10:00 P.M.
They said misery loves company and that must have been true, because after ditching the pesky, lying Carmichael, Mia found herself parked in front of Fire Company 172, hoping she’d find David Hunter on duty. He was in the kitchen making chili.
“That’s so cliché,” she said and he turned around, eyes widening.
He shrugged. “It’s also good. You want some?”
“Sure.” She sat down at the kitchen table. “Smells good.”
“I’m a good cook.” He put a bowl in front of her. “You find him?”
“Not yet.”
“Then why are you here?”
Mia rolled her eyes. “I swear I’ll deck the next person who says that. I came by to see how you are. The fire at Brooke Adler’s was... devastating.”
He joined her at the table. “I’ll be okay. I imagine you see worse on a regular basis.”
She thought about Brooke Adler, the burns and the woman’s excruciating pain. “No, I don’t think so. That was bad, David. Don’t feel bad if you need to talk to someone.”
He said nothing, leaving her to stare at his
GQ
face and compare him to Reed. She must be nuts, because Reed came out on top. She sighed. “I wish I wanted you, David.”
The initial surprise in his eyes gave way to wry amusement. “Same goes.”
“You, too?”
He laughed sadly. “A few times I’ve wondered why one person does it for you and another doesn’t. Sorry, Mia, but you don’t. Although there are about five guys in this company alone who’d kill to be with you. That was an expression, of course.”
“Of course.” When she got over Reed, she’d ask David to introduce her to one of those five lucky guys. “You’re not over her, are you?” Dana, whom he’d loved for years and who had absolutely no idea how much she’d hurt him.
His gray eyes shuttered. “Eat your chili, Mia.”
“Okay. Listen, my car got ambushed the other night. The department will fix the windows, but one of the bullets hit the hood. Will you take a look at it in your garage?”
His dark brows went up. “Bullets hit your car. Your little Alfa.”
“Yeah.” Then she grinned. “It was damn exciting.”
He threw back his head and laughed and for one moment she wondered if she and Dana were both blind and stupid. “I’ll bet it was.” He sobered. “Why are you here, Mia?”
She should tell him about Dana and the baby because as hard as it had been for her, it would be worse for him. But not tonight. “I’m at loose ends tonight.”
His eyes shadowed. “Fair enough. We have a pool table upstairs.”
“Can I ride the firepole back down?”
He grinned, lightening the dark mood. “Sure.”
“Then rack ’em up, Ace.”
Saturday, December 2, 10:50 P.M.
Lauren was on a date and Beth was sulking. It was eleven on a Saturday night and he was alone. He closed his eyes and let himself admit that he didn’t want to be alone. He wanted Mia here, with him. He wanted her smart mouth, her rough edges and her soft curves. God, the woman had the softest curves. He remembered how it felt to sink into her, thrust against her, fill his hands with her. She’d been...
Perfect.
He opened his eyes and stared at the wall, wondering if he was both blind and stupid.
Perfect.
She wasn’t elegant and the home she made would be filled with take-out boxes and sheets that didn’t match. But it could be a home. She made him...
Happy.
He fingered the chain around his neck. He’d hurt her. Mia.
But it wasn’t too late. It couldn’t be. He got up and paced. He wouldn’t let it be.
His computer beeped at him. He either had new e-mail or a hit on the search he’d scheduled to run three times daily. He sat in front of the screen and his breath caught. It was a new hit on the solid-accelerant search. The first four entries were his own. But the fifth had been logged just that afternoon. By a Tom Tennant of Indianapolis.
Reed found the number for the Indianapolis Fire Department. Ten minutes and three transfers later, he got through. “Tennant.” It was a sleepy growl.
“Tom Tennant? My name is Reed Solliday. I’m with OFI in Chicago. You logged a solid-accelerant fire utilizing natural gas into the database this afternoon.”
“Yeah, I did. Hell of a fire. Nearly took out half a city block.” In the background Reed could hear the tapping of a keyboard. Tennant was checking him out.
“You’ll find my four entries in the database already. This is likely related to a serial murder/arsonist in Chicago. What was the name of the homeowner at the origin?”
“I can’t give you that information right now.”
Reed blew out an impatient breath. “Can you tell me if the last name was Young?”
There was a beat of hesitation. “Yes. Tyler Young.”
One of the sons. Shit.
“Did he survive?”
Tennant hesitated. “I need to check you out first. Give me your badge number.”
Reed rattled it off. “Hurry. Call me back when you’ve verified.” They’d found one of the Youngs. Too late it seemed. They might be in time for the other three. He started to dial Mia, then canceled. He’d wait until Tennant called—
The shrill barking of the puppy broke the quiet. It sounded like Biggles was outside, but he hadn’t heard Beth come down to let him out. Then the high squeal of the smoke detector added to the din. His heart jumped into his throat as he ran up the stairs, dialing 911.
Beth was upstairs.
Smoke already filled the hallway.
