Playing with Fire (20 page)

“Neither would I,” Carolyn agreed. “Maggie? Are you really okay?”

“As okay as I’m going to be until this is over. Don’t worry.”

“I’m going to worry. You can bet on that, but this is the day we’re supposed to close early,” she said apologetically. “And I’ve still got a weave and a perm before I can leave. So unless you need me …”

“No,” Maggie said, her finger already on the speaker button. “Beau’s got it under control. I’ll call you tonight. Promise.”

After disconnecting, Maggie slowly pulled back her hand, and for the first time the fact they were investigating a murder hit home. “Now what do we do?”

“
We
aren’t doing anything. Unless the legislature is in voting session, I’m going to shake Webb Garner and see what falls out of his pockets.” Beau reached behind him and hauled a phone book onto his desk. Baton Rouge housed the Louisiana State Capitol. Both of them—the old and the new. “You’re going to stay here with Russell until I get back.”

Three phone calls later, Beau had the appointment.
As he stood up to leave, Maggie asked, “Shouldn’t we call homicide or something?”

“Which jurisdiction? With what evidence?” He didn’t take his eyes off her as he walked around the desk. “All we have is circumstance and conjecture. You can’t identify anyone yet. Homicide likes a little meat on the bone before they’ll take it to gnaw on.”

He bent over to grab the arms of her chair, hauling it around to face him and leaning into her space as if he owned it. “Don’t worry. If he did it, I’ll prove it. I don’t give up.”

“The bad guys never get away from you, do they?”

“I don’t give a damn about the bad guys, Maggie. So let’s get the record straight right now.” Beau pulled her up against him without even sparing a glance to see if anyone watched through the glass.

“W-what about Russell?”

“I don’t care about him either. All I care about is you. That’s not going to change, and when this is over, I won’t back off. There won’t be any more secrets even if I have to tear down every one of your walls myself. I warned you that you were going to have to deal with me, and I meant it.”

His voice softened to a dangerous whisper as his hand cupped the line of her jaw, his thumb touching the corner of her mouth. “And what happened this afternoon is going to happen again. In every way you can imagine. Are we clear on this?”

“Crystal,” she said faintly and swallowed, bracing herself for a kiss. Instead he found the soft spot in her heart and slipped a promise inside.

“Baby, sometimes it’s okay to believe the advertising
because it’s the truth.” Then he dropped his hands and walked away.

When she could breathe again, Maggie cursed him so softly, he couldn’t hear. “Don’t make me love you, Beau. Don’t make me want what I can’t have forever.”

Maggie realized it was already too late. Forever with Beau was exactly what she wanted.

At thirty-four-stories high, the Louisiana state capitol building had the distinction of being the tallest state capitol in the United States. Baton Rouge citizens still called it the “New” State Capitol despite the fact it had been built in 1932. Beau got off on the twenty-seventh floor.

Garner had suggested the observation tower instead of his office. Beau didn’t mind. All he wanted was fifteen minutes of the senator’s time. The view was a bonus.

The whole city spread out around him. The raw power of the Mississippi meandered for miles to the south, but to the north chemical plants hunkered down on the land in an ugly industrial parody of a city skyline. It was as though the “face” of Baton Rouge was a Janus mask—one side light and the other dark. Two halves of one incredible whole that pulsed with life. Like Maggie.

Turning his back on the view, Beau didn’t have to wait long for Garner and signaled with a wave. The senator was a tall man, who moved through the crowd like a gator through swamp water—silent, dangerous, and eyes focused on the prize. Tourists, who were only here for the view, gave him a second glance and a wide berth but didn’t actually recognize him.

“Chief Grayson?”

“Senator.” Beau extended his hand. “I appreciate your time.”

“Then cut to the chase. Why is the Baton Rouge Arson Investigation squad interested in Sarah Alastair?”

“Her name’s come up in an ongoing investigation.”

Garner scoffed. “She died eighteen years ago. What could she or I possibly have to do with a current case?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. The only way I can do that is to investigate the old case.”

“What’s the
new
case?”

“The Cloister hospital fire. The witness is Maggie St. John.”

Not even a flicker of recognition betrayed Garner as he stared at Beau. “And how does this connect backward in time to Sarah, much less to me?”

“You don’t know Maggie St. John?”

Garner gave every indication of a man racking his brain, and then said, “No. Not a clue. You’ll have to help me out.”

“She lived with the Alastairs at the time you dated Sarah.”

“Oh, yeah.” The senator nodded. “The little fire-bug.”

“Excuse me?” Beau asked, a part of him applauding Garner for his first strike. The man was good. Every politician knew the best defense was a good offense.

“You didn’t know?” Garner sounded surprised. “She had a thing for fire.”

“No, I didn’t. Juvenile records are sealed, but you probably know that.”
Were probably counting on it.

“You could talk to Alastair,” Garner suggested without
missing a beat. “He still has a C.P.A. practice in Slaughter.”

Beau felt as if the bedrock beneath him had begun to shift. Garner was too smart a man to offer a lie about Maggie that could be so easily exposed. As the truth sank in, every explanation of Maggie’s, every coincidence was suddenly open to reevaluation.

No wonder she’d been terrified of the case file. One brief notation would have been enough to bring her house of cards crashing down. Even as he felt the sharp betrayal of trust, he also acknowledged Maggie had no choice about keeping her secret. Admitting a history of fire setting would have been self-destructive.

“Grayson.” The senator interrupted his thoughts. “I don’t know what you’re fishing for or why you’re talking to me, but that little girl didn’t set the fire that killed Sarah. It was a cooking accident. Everyone agreed.”

“You just told me she was a fire setter. You don’t have even the smallest suspicion that she could have done it?” Beau asked sharply, giving him a perfect opportunity. Beau expected him to pretend to struggle with his recollection, and then come to the reluctant conclusion that maybe it was possible after all.

But Garner didn’t take the bait, didn’t take the chance to throw more suspicion on Maggie. Instead, he cleared her.

“No. I don’t believe it. She was into wastepaper baskets and leaf piles. Nothing destructive. Sarah told me the kid was almost cured. Something to do with finally making the adjustment to foster care.”

Training took over as Beau pushed the emotional reactions
aside. “You seem to remember a lot about her for someone who didn’t even recognize her name.”

Garner raised a brow. “Unlike you, pyromaniacs are not an everyday occurrence in my life. She’s still the only one I have ever met.”

“If what you say is true, she wasn’t a pyromaniac. She was ‘acting out.’ That behavior isn’t the same as pyromania.”

“Whatever you call it, the kid played with fire.”

“So did you,” Beau suggested, moving the conversation toward Garner’s relationship with Sarah.

“What are you getting at?” For the first time indignation colored the senator’s words. “I didn’t set that fire either, Grayson.”

“I was speaking figuratively. Sarah found out you were sleeping with someone else.”

“Yes, she did. What’s your point?”

“You saw her the night she died.”

“For all of about fifteen minutes. We fought … bitterly, and she threw me out on my ear. I imagine she did the same to Carolyn after she showed up. I didn’t stick around to find out. It was awkward enough.”

“Awkward? Senator, are you telling me that you slept with Sarah’s best friend?” To Beau the question was only a formality. He’d already jumped ahead to the answer. Already guessed why Maggie fought so hard against her memories.

Because to accept them would destroy the only family she had.

Maggie rubbed her arms and paced. The sense that her life was finally moving toward closure should have given her some measure of peace, but she couldn’t find it. Instead nervousness churned the acid in her stomach. She couldn’t make it go away. She couldn’t even settle it down. Watching the clock and the relentless endless march of the second hand only reminded her that she couldn’t stop the future or change the past.

All of her life Maggie had hated waiting because it meant giving up control. Waiting had always made her feel powerless. That’s how she felt now. She had no idea what Webb Garner knew about that night or how much he’d tell Beau. Or what Beau would do then.

All she could do was hurry up and wait. Watch Russell shuffle papers. Pace, and hope the chill inside her would go away. She needed something to do, something to take her mind off waiting. When she spun around to change directions, she knocked the phone book off the
edge of the desk. It hit the floor with a thud that echoed in her mind, sending her back in time.

“Maggie May, don’t come down here again!” Sarah’s voice was sharp and desperate, scaring her. Sarah took a deep breath, and tried to soften it with a smile.

But Maggie knew the smile wasn’t real.

“Go back to bed, sweetie. I broke my mama’s flower bowl is all, and it scared me. I’ll clean it up. No harm done. You go to bed. Okay? No harm done. Please?”

Nodding, Maggie retreated from the railing, but she didn’t climb back in bed. She left her door open a crack and sat beside it, listening, afraid Webb had returned. She listened a long time before she heard anything. Then finally a woman said Sarah’s name, and she sighed with relief. It was Carolyn down there. Everything would be okay. If Webb came back, at least Sarah wouldn’t be alone. Carolyn could help.

Maggie was about to shut the door, but Sarah’s voice rooted her in place. “Get out. I don’t want to see your face. You’re trash, and you always will be.” There was so much anger that when Sarah paused for breath the anger remained, hovering in the house. Carolyn tried to speak but Sarah cut her off, calling her something Maggie knew was had but didn’t understand. Something the men called her mother.

A slap rang out as hard and fast as the insult. Maggie heard it connect, heard someone stumble backward and knock over a piece of furniture that landed with a thud. Then there was silence.

Maggie closed her door and covered her ears. She didn’t want to hear any more fighting. It wasn’t supposed to he like this. She didn’t want to stay here if it was going to be like this.

Maggie held her hands over her ears for a long time, squeezing her eyes shut as she heard the sound of a chair falling again and again in her mind. Each time was a knife in her heart because now she knew that Sarah never got back up.

God, Carolyn, she was your best friend. How could you?
Maggie knew the answer. Beau’s scenario of how Sarah had died was right on the money. Except that Carolyn had been the one who pushed Sarah. Carolyn had been the one to panic, not Webb.

“Are you okay?” Russell asked from behind her.

She jumped, whirled and lied—all on reflex. “Headache. It’s that blood sugar thing.”

“You need a doctor?”

“No.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Russell asked again and moved out of the doorway, ready to catch her if she sagged. “You look wiped.”

“I’ve got some crackers and some aspirin in my purse. That’s all I need.” She reached for her purse. “Did you want me for something?”

“I was going to walk over to the lab and pick up some reports, but I don’t think I should—”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m just going to sit here and eat my crackers. Promise.” She just wanted him to go away so she could think and sort it all out. He didn’t look convinced, so she eased into a chair, wordlessly reassuring him that she wouldn’t exert herself until he got back. The effort to smile was almost too much.

“If you’re sure you’re okay? Beau does want these reports.”

“Then go. He gets so cranky when he doesn’t get what he wants.”

Russell grinned. “So you’ve noticed.”

“Uh-huh. Go get your reports. Take your time. I’m fine.”

As soon as he disappeared into the hallway, Maggie’s smile faded and she bent over to cradle her head in her hands. For a while she just replayed the scene in her mind. She needed answers, and she found none.

Anger and hurt, betrayal and failure piled up inside Maggie until there wasn’t room for anything else. A trick of the mind assimilated all of the emotions into a need to confront Carolyn. Unlike Sarah, Maggie wanted to see Carolyn’s face. Up close. Maggie wanted to look her in the eye, wanted Carolyn to own her guilt. Carolyn had tried to destroy her, and Maggie wanted a pound of flesh.