Safe From the Fire (16 page)

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Authors: Lily Rede

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What
is going on?

This
was unsettling and
not
according to plan.

He
shook off the unease – there wasn’t anything more he could do tonight. 
Besides, he had one more fire to set in the next day or so, and then his life
would get back to normal.

Odd,
how that seemed so depressing.

 

MATT
SIGHED TO HIMSELF as he caught sight of a determined Grace marching down Main
Street the following morning.  Even from a few blocks away, she was
unmistakable – the purple braid and that luscious ass draped in a long, black
lace skirt gave her away.  He knew where she was going and lengthened his
stride to catch up.  Along with the rest of Bright’s Ferry’s police and fire
authorities, Matt was cranky and exhausted – he’d gone home alone to catch a
few more hours of sleep in sheets that smelled of sex and Grace, and was almost
resentful when he stepped in the shower this morning to wash away the traces of
their coupling.  Despite his fears and their uncertain relationship, he wanted
her mark on him, permanently.

“Grace.”

She
paused, and before he could say anything, held up her hand.

“I
don’t want to hear it, Matt.”

“This
isn’t a good idea.”

“I
know as well as you do that that toolkit you found belongs to Cal Iverson.  His
fucking name was stamped on the side, Matt.  I’m just going to ask him a few
questions.”

“You’re
not a cop, Grace!”

“Neither
are you!”

She
glared up at him, and Matt carefully put his hands on her shoulders.

“Look,
we know that the arsonist is a local, so Evie and Tony have their hands full investigating
the fire locations and keeping track of the checkpoints in and out of town. 
Colin’s trying to prevent the Town Council from going into full meltdown, and
the Fire Department has been a little busy, if you hadn’t noticed.  Let’s just
say I’ve been unofficially deputized.”

Grace
shook her head in disbelief and broke free to start down the street again, and
Matt had to take a few deep breaths to control the urge to grab her and drag
her back home, where he could keep her safe and distracted from any thought of
putting herself in danger.  He was certain she’d find it harder to argue with
him if she were tied to his bed and filled to bursting with his cock.  A shiver
raced up his spine – he knew she craved bondage, but that was going to take
some serious mental girding of loins.

He
caught her by the waist, keeping his hands gentle, and she stilled immediately
as he pulled her back against him in a careful embrace.  His breath ruffled her
hair.

“What
if it’s not a coincidence and Cal is the arsonist, Grace?  It sounds crazy, and
I’ve always thought Cal was a great guy, but what if I’m wrong?  This guy has
burned five buildings, Grace.  Five.  Whether they’re connected or not, that’s
just not rational.  How do you think he’s going to react if you confront him?  
He’s already broken into your house once.”

“He
hurt Adam,” Grace seethed, but slowly relaxed back against him.

The
knots in Matt’s stomach eased a fraction.

“I
suppose you could come along,” she finally said, grudgingly, and though Matt
rolled his eyes, he was quickly coming to see that while Evie craved his
domination in the bedroom, she was never going to be compliant and obliging
outside of it.

A
few locals stepped out of the nearby market and glanced their way, curious and
disapproving.  Evie stiffened and, a little too casually, pulled herself from
Matt’s embrace, putting a solid couple of feet between them.

“Why
do you do that?” Matt asked, pissed, “I thought you didn’t care what they
think?  God, it kills me that you don’t stand up for yourself and tell them to
mind their own business.”

“I
don’t care what they think of
me
,” she countered, “I care what they
think of
you.

With
that baffling statement, she stomped away, and Matt only caught up with her as
she entered the hardware store, a medium-sized labyrinth of everything from
plumbing supplies to paint.  Matt was sure that half of his house had once
resided on Cal’s well-stocked shelves.

That
she hadn’t shared her fears with Adam was apparent, because he was busy
restocking a shelf full of lightbulbs as the overhead bell jingled merrily.

“Hey,
Gracie.  I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

The
kid was looking a little worse for wear, judging by the bandage on his forehead
and the dark circles under his eyes.  He was manfully trying to put on a cheery
face for his sister.

“What
are you doing here, Adam?  You’re supposed to be resting.  I thought you were
still home, asleep.”

“I
needed to keep busy, and Cal said there was work, so – ”

Adam
shrugged as Cal came out of the back room, wiping dusty hands on a rag.  His
sleeves were rolled up and Matt was arrested by the sight of a nasty burn along
one arm.  It was recent. 
Very
recent.

“’Morning,
Matt.  Grace.  What can I do for you?”

“What
happened there, Cal?” Matt asked softly, indicating his arm.

“Accident
with a blowtorch.”

“Really?”
asked Grace, skeptical.

 

THE
TEMPERATURE IN THE room seemed to drop to Arctic levels as a steely-eyed Matt
held Cal’s gaze.  Grace looked pissed and a little scared, and Adam watched the
three of them face off, fascinated and horrified.

“I
don’t like what you’re implying,” said Cal, “If you have something to say, just
say it.”

“We
found your toolkit at the Murphys’ house along with the gas cans that were used
to set fire to the place last night.”

Adam
heard Grace’s words drop with the impact of a bomb, and barely managed to avoid
reacting, keeping his expression only mildly curious. 

The
toolkit.
 
The toolkit he’d “borrowed” from the shop to fix up Grace’s house and left at
the foot of the stairs.  The one with his fingerprints all over it.  The
attacker, who must have taken it, had been wearing gloves.

Say
something.
 
But his lips wouldn’t move.  If he admitted that he borrowed it, it would seem
like he’d been over there – as though there was no attacker and he was injured
setting the fire.  If he didn’t say anything, Cal would surely figure it out. 
As Adam waffled in indecision over which was the less cowardly outcome, Cal
took the decision out of his hands.

“I’ve
got a lot of toolkits, in case you hadn’t noticed.  It’s kind of my thing. 
Might be that I had a work order from the Murphys landlord last week and one of
my guys accidentally left it over there.”

It
was possible – the hardware store crew did a lot of handyman work on the side.

“Did
you?” demanded Grace.

“Did
I what?”

“Have
a work order?”

Cal
shrugged.

“I
get a lot of work orders.  I’m sure there’s a record.”

“We’d
like to see it, if you don’t mind,” said Grace, gently pressing Matt’s fingers
as the big man tensed beside her.

“Sure. 
Tell Tony to send you back with a warrant and I’ll show you anything you like.”

Matt
was angry, and Adam shrank back in spite of himself as he stepped forward into
Cal’s space.

Whoa.

 Suddenly,
pushing his sister at the giant firefighter didn’t seem like the best idea in
the world.  But Cal was no pushover either.

“My
family’s been running this shop for decades.  I run a respectable operation
here, like my father did before me.  Think I’m going to let you come in here
and accuse one of my guys –”

“Now,
listen here – ”

But
Grace surprised Adam, smoothly stepping between the two men, pressing her hands
against Matt’s massive chest.

“Matt,”
she said softly. 

He
held himself tense for a moment, and then stepped back, taking a deep breath. 
Grace turned flinty eyes on Cal.

“This
has to stop, Cal.  Anything you can tell us would be helpful.”

Cal
hesitated and then finally said, “I can’t say how my toolkit got over to the
Murphy’s, but I will say this.  Based on all the rumors I’ve heard about the
fires, how they started, how they never manage to burn more than the building
that’s intended, I would say that the arsonist would have to be someone who
knows a fair amount about repair and building materials.”

“Great,
that narrows it down to anyone from those idiot kids in woodshop to old Dreyer
himself,” muttered Matt.

“No,
this is good!” said Grace, and Adam could practically see the “librarian”
emerge as she pushed her glasses up her nose and ticked off her fingers, “He’d
have to know something about electrical wiring and how to disable the sprinklers,
right?  And if he swiped one of your toolkits, he must have come through here
at some point.”

“I
can have Silas print out a list of everybody who made a purchase over the last
month or so, if that would help,” offered Cal reluctantly.

“Yes,
thank you,” nodded Grace.

“Silas!”

Silas
Jankowsky was not a good looking guy, and if there was a sense of humor under
those sullen eyes and the shock of greasy hair, Adam had yet to find it.  He
wondered why Cal kept the young man on as his store manager – he barely spoke
to the customers, which was probably just as well.  He was built like an ox and
had a reputation for being a bully.  Adam was being careful to stay well out of
his way.

The
only time he’d seen him smile was when Ellen Schwartz, birdlike and nervous,
entered the store.  She’d taken one look at Adam and shrieked, knocking a box
full of screws to the floor as she jumped back.  Adam wasn’t at all surprised –
he’d set fire to her house once upon a time, and though he’d dutifully written
and delivered his letters as Grace had insisted the day after his arrival, he’d
been expecting this kind of reaction sooner or later.  Flustered, she’d hurried
away, and as Adam had stooped to clean up the mess, he’d spotted Silas smirking
before he lumbered back into the shadows.

Cal
explained what they needed and Silas grunted an affirmative, but Adam wasn’t
paying attention.  He was too worried about how he was going to keep his sister
safe when the arsonist had clearly decided to make him the scapegoat for these crimes,
and Adam knew for a fact that Grace was not going to let that happen, no matter
what the consequences.

Adam
barely noticed Matt and Grace taking their leave, and Cal giving him a long,
measuring look before disappearing into the back office.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

 

AT
NOON, GRACE GAVE up on work and left everything in Fiona’s capable hands. 
There was practically nobody at the library anyway – the news of the Murphys’
fire had everyone scared and staying close to home.  It was just as well, since
Grace felt out of sorts.  After leaving the hardware store, she and Matt had
discussed various possible suspects to report to Evie and Tony – construction
workers, handymen, some of the more industrious teenage delinquents, and so
forth, but when Grace set out her plan to do a little more in-depth digging,
Matt had expressed his disapproval.  Loudly.

At
least he’s coming to realize that I’m really not scared of him
.  She’d had no
trouble yelling at him in the middle of the street and had finally flounced
away, furious that he didn’t seem to understand that she had to do
something.
 
More and more, it seemed as though the sarsonist was setting Adam up to take
the fall – she’d be an idiot if she didn’t consider him a suspect, but her gut
told her it couldn’t be true.  He’d changed, she was sure of it.

So
Matt had headed off to deliver a copy of Cal’s customer list to Zeke, and Grace
had tried to shove her irritation aside and get to work.  An hour later, she
was home alone, feeling tense and annoyed.  Her clothes felt too tight, so she
peeled them off and wrapped herself in a silky green robe and flopped down on
the bed to brood.

A
slight twinge reminded her that a short twelve hours ago, she’d finally had
Matt Harris where she’d been dying to have him, hard and hot between her
thighs.  She shivered, remembering it.

If
only he didn’t have to make things complicated.

She
was surprised by how willing she’d been to throw caution to the winds – well,
maybe not that surprised, given that she’d been lusting after him for so long. 
What
did
surprise her was that when he stopped worrying about it and
just gave in to his fantasies, Boy Scout Matt Harris had a wicked, edgy fantasy
life and a delightfully dirty mouth.  She wondered how much further he’d be
willing to take it before his fears pushed him to back off.  Grace knew that
his desire for more of a relationship from her was still doomed, but she was
done pretending that she wouldn’t take every morsel of him that she could get
for as long as he’d let her. 
Pathetic.

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