Perfectly Matched (5 page)

“Sean and I noticed a pattern today while talking about the case,” Sam said.

“What kind of pattern?” I asked.

After a long second, Sam said, “I think the firebug is someone I know, and I think I’m being targeted.”

I looked at Sean. He was still staring out the window. His jaw was still clenched.

“You’re serious?” I said. It seemed like quite a leap to make.

“Maybe someone out for revenge,” Sam added, dragging a hand over his face. He glanced furtively at Ebbie.

She was still staring at him.

He frowned.

“I think you’d better explain,” I said softly.

He propped his elbow on the table, rested his face in his hand, and used his long fingers to block Ebbie from his peripheral vision. “I didn’t put it together until this morning when the
Globe
published the addresses of the places that had been targeted. The first fire was set in an apartment I rented off-campus during college. The second fire was at one of the high schools I attended. The third was my and Sean’s grandparents’ old corner store where I used to work. The fourth, this latest one that almost killed the old man while he was sleeping, was the first house Lizzie and I bought together.”

Sean pushed his hand through his hair, raising spiky tufts in its wake.

My mouth had gone cotton-ball dry. Now that he’d explained, his leap didn’t seem all that big. “Have you called the police?”

He nodded. “A detective is coming by today to talk to me.”

“I’ve also been in contact with an old fire buddy, Curt Meister,” Sean said. He looked at his watch. “He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

I recognized the name. Sean played poker with friends from his old firehouse once a month, and Curt was one of the ones Sean talked about most. They’d been close before Sean’s heart problems, going through the fire academy together, working at the same station, vying for the same jobs. I was immensely relieved that Sean had a contact within the firehouse. Maybe Curt could share some information that hadn’t yet been released by the public.

Grim lines bracketed Sam’s mouth. “I’ve been making lists all morning of potential enemies.”

Of which he’d have many. Being a private investigator had its downfalls.

“I’ve sent Lizzie and the girls away to visit family in
California
,” Sam said.

The ramifications of his being a target were setting in. Sending Lizzie and his twin daughters away was a good idea. If someone was specifically going after him, his home would be at risk. His family.

So would his business.

A surge of fear zipped down my spine. “You think SD Investigations is in danger.” It wasn’t a question—I could already see the answer in his eyes. That was why he was here, filling me in.

“It makes sense,” he said.

The building, owned by my father, consisted of three floors. The first floor housed the Porcupine, a busy restaurant owned by Maggie Constantine, who was practically like family; especially now that she was engaged to Raphael, my father’s personal valet of over twenty-five years.

Since meeting Maggie, Raphael had drastically cut back on his hours working for my father and spent more and more time at the restaurant. My father hadn’t minded the shift too much since it was about the same time he’d reconciled with my mother. She was a great diversion.

My family dynamics were complicated to say the least, but Raphael was like a second father to me, and the thought of anything happening to him made my blood run cold.

On the second floor was the Valentine, Inc. office space. I had a sudden image of flames trapping me, Suz, and my father in the building and wished I didn’t have such an overactive imagination. My heart was beating wildly, and that was before I even thought about Sam and Sean on the third floor. Their company, SD Investigations, had rented that space for years.

Nine times nine is eighty-one.

Damn it!

I suddenly felt strong hands settle on my shoulders and looked up to see Sean standing behind me.

“It’s all conjecture at this point,” Sean said calmly, belying the look in his eyes. “The arsonist may have nothing to do with Sam. It could be a coincidence.”

I knew what he was doing—trying to ease my fears. It wasn’t working. This building was old. Centuries old. And though it was up to fire code, I’m not sure it could withstand an arsonist’s attempts to burn it to the ground.

“Too much of a coincidence,” Sam said.

I agreed. Sure, lots of people went to that same high school. But the apartment off-campus? And his starter home? And his grandparents’ shop? Unlikely that someone would pick those spots randomly.

Sean’s hands remained on my shoulders as I said, “I’ll talk to my father about closing up the building for a few days. The air conditioner isn’t working, so it makes sense anyway.” Maggie wasn’t going to like this situation—this was her busiest time of year with all the tourists, but I hoped she’d understand.

Sam nodded and stood. He glanced at his watch and then said, “You might want to start backing up files, too, and moving valuables somewhere safer. I have to go. The detective should be here soon.”

He glanced at the cat, furrowed his brows, and strode out of the room. Sean sat down in Sam’s vacated seat, and pulled my chair over to his. Our knees touched.

“Stop,” he said softly.

“Stop what?” I asked, mentally making a list of things to be moved to storage. My father’s valuable artwork, photos, files, computers...

He slipped his hands under my dress and settled them on my bare thighs.

That certainly got my attention.

He said, “I can practically see your mind going a mile a minute.”

His thumbs made lazy sweeps against my skin. My brain had practically shut down. “Not anymore.”

The corner of his mouth tipped in a knowing smile. “Your skin is hot.”

“And getting hotter.” Thank goodness I was in the direct line of the fan or I might have self-combusted.

“I’m glad I still have the ability to distract you.”

“Was that ever in question?”

We’d been seeing each other for almost eight months now. Exclusively. All-in. He was currently staying in my dad’s
Boston
waterfront penthouse (since Dad was [amazingly] still living with my mother), and I was happy in my cottage on my grandmother’s property in Cohasset.

The difficult commute between us was getting old, however, and we’d recently resurrected the living-together conversation. It was a big step. Huge. And we didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize the relationship.

He (sadly) removed his hands from my legs and cupped my face. Leaning in, he rested his forehead on mine. “Don’t worry about fires, okay?”

“How can I not?”

He kissed a spot near my ear. “Okay. Don’t worry
too
much about it.”

“But what about Sam...”

He a kissed a line across my cheek and then lingered directly over my lips. “Sam will be fine.”

Hot. So hot. But I managed to pull away. There was something in his tone that tipped me off to his inner turmoil. I eyed him warily. “You’re not fooling me, Sean Donahue.”

Gone was the desire in his eyes, now replaced with barely concealed fury. He leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know what you mean, Ms. Valentine,” he said lightly. Too lightly.

I was suddenly reminded of
Jeremy Cross and his restraint.

Sean, I rea
lized, was acting the same way.

Keeping all his emotions locked inside. It’s the way he’s always been—even with me. There have been only a few times he’s really opened up. He was getting better at sharing, but I was afraid that this threat to Sam was weighing quite heavily on him. Sean Donahue was quite loyal to those he loved. I knew that firsthand.

“You’ve got something planned,” I said. “Tell me.”

Gray eyes flashed dangerously.

The fans whirred. Ebbie’s tail swished. The truck in the alleyway reversed, piercing the air with an annoying
beep, beep, beep
.

I put my hand on his knee. “Sean?”

His jaw clenched. “This firebug has messed with the wrong family.”

“The police will catch him soon. He’s bound to have left some clues behind.”

“I’m not waiting for the police.”

“No?” I asked, getting a sinking feeling.

Sean held my gaze. “No.”

“What are you planning?”

A vein throbbed in his forehead. “I’m going to catch him, Lucy. But God help him if he hurts someone in my family before I do.”

Chapter Five

On that cheery note, I had to restrain myself from going into full panic mode. To do that, I needed Twinkies, air conditioning, and the ear of a best friend.

I knew what I had to do.

I was on my way out of the office, my tote bag in one hand, Ebbie’s carrier in the other, when I nearly bumped into a man coming up the stairs.

He’d pressed himself against the wall so I could pass when I heard Sean call from the third floor landing. “Lucy, wait!”

The man un-plastered himself and smiled at me. “So, you’re the infamous Lucy Valentine. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I had never seen the man before in my life. “Really?”

Sean came down the stairs and thrust a hand out to the stranger. “Thanks for coming, Curt.”

Ah
. This was Curt Meister. Medium height, thick dark hair, blue eyes. I put him around Sean’s age—thirty, give or take a year or two.

The stairwell felt a little bit like an oven, so Sean made the introductions quickly.

I said, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Same here.” He clapped Sean on his back and added, “You’ve snagged yourself a great guy.”

“You don’t need to tell me that.”

The pensive look was still in Sean’s eyes, but I could see how at ease Curt made him feel. “You two are making me blush.”

“Just blame this heat,” I said.

“Seriously,” Curt piped in. “We miss Sean at the firehouse every day, though I’m kind of glad he’s not around. I’m coming up for lieutenant and don’t need the competition. Did you know Sean beat me out of every promotion that came along?”

I thought I picked up on a thread of animosity in the undercurrent of his words, but maybe I’d been imagining it. “He was good at his job,” I said.

“The best,” Curt said with a smile.

“Enough about me,” Sean protested.

“I’ve got to run.” To Sean, I said, “You’ll call when you’re done?”

He nodded.

As I rushed down the steps, I heard Curt say, “Great gal you’ve got there.”

Why I felt it wasn’t a sincere compliment I didn’t know.

***

Fifteen minutes later, I sat next to Emerson Baumbach, who stared at me in horror as I nibbled my way around the oblong golden goodness of a Twinkie—my third in a row.

“Do you know what’s in those things?” Em asked.

“Yummy goodness?”

“You’re a sick woman.”

I eyed the bran muffin she was eating. “I’d like to discuss your definition of ‘sick.’”

We were in one of the many buildings on the
Boston
College
campus. Em was in-between classes. Last fall she left her job as a pediatric intern to go back to school to become a teacher. Summer school was part of that grand plan.

She tossed a crumb at me. “I don’t even want to imagine what your colon looks like.”

That made two of us. “You can take the girl out of the lab coat, but not the doctor out of the girl.”

She threw another crumb at me, and I smiled when I saw the sun glint off her modest diamond engagement ring.

Detective Lieutenant Aiden Holliday had proposed to her a few months ago while on vacation in
Hawaii
. Even though she had been fresh off an engagement-from-hell, and Aiden could be considered a rebound relationship, I wasn’t surprised she said yes.

She and Aiden had matching auras. My father declared them soul mates, and well, that was about as big a stamp of approval as a couple was likely to get.

I’d met Aiden in the fall, during a search for a missing little boy. After that case closed he approached me to work with him as a psychic consultant for the state police.

I eventually agreed, and since then, together we have solved dozens of cases.

Aiden was now one of my favorite people, and I was beyond happy that he was going to marry my best friend.

Em’s flaming red hair had been pulled back into a loose braid, and her fair skin glowed. She wore hardly any makeup—just a swipe or two of mascara and some lip gloss—but she didn’t need much anyway.

“Have you picked a date for the wedding?” I asked. She and Aiden had been going back and forth about the wedding for a good month now, including whether they should have a big affair or small, local or a destination wedding.