The Fire Still Burns (3 page)

They turned down a road which, true to Adam's word, was all dirt and badly rutted.  The truck jostled about and Brynn slid toward Adam.  Unable to stop herself, she mashed against his side and felt him instantly go rigid.

“Sorry,” she quickly apologized, scrambled back to her side of the truck and fastened her seatbelt.  When he didn't say anything, she glanced his way and again her gaze fell on the spot where his hand gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.   

“We're nearly there.”  Adam’s words came out strained.

Thank goodness.

They wove around a bend and the smell of burnt lumber scented the air as they neared the property, which had been destroyed the day before.  It was still taped off but otherwise non-secured, not that there were many options available to secure the property.  Only skeletal remains of the structure were left.

“How long did you actually inspect the property?”

“Long enough,” Adam answered brusquely as he rolled to a stop in front of the burned remains of the one story house.  “I know how to do my job, Brynn.  I did everything by the book.”

Brynn cringed under the weight of his hateful glare.  “I wasn't implying anything.  It's just that this happened yesterday.  Taking into account the amount of time it took to put out the fire and then make sure the property was secure, it seems like you wrapped things up pretty quickly.”  

“So you're implying I rushed and quite possibly missed something?”  Adam flung his door open and stepped out, not waiting for an answer.  He slammed the door closed with enough force to jar her bones. 

“I'm not implying anything, Adam.”  Brynn hurried out of the truck and caught up to him as he rounded the rear.  His cheeks were flushed and his nostrils flared from his heavy breathing.  He was so full of anger she was surprised she couldn't see drops of it spilling from his pores.  If any chance of them working together on this case remained, they needed to diffuse the hostility.

“Look, I know we've gotten off to a rough start today and you don't want to have anything to do with me.  I understand that.  The thing is, I really do want to help.  I'm sure you're a great investigator, but if we both put our heads together we're going to get results much quicker.”  

He turned toward her and seemed to think her statement over while she waited with her arms folded across her chest.  He nodded his head once and reached into the truck bed.  “I guess you're right.”  He picked up two hard hats and gave her one.  “But I don't have to like it.”

“Neither do I,” Brynn said to his back as he walked past her toward the house.  Her eyes slid down his back, taking in the view of his tight butt in faded jeans, which fit sinfully right, and she mentally scolded herself for the lapse.  His rock hard body was the last thing she needed to be thinking about.  Unfortunately, it was just too well-sculpted to ignore.

“Are you coming or not?”  Adam turned back toward her and her cheeks instantly warmed.

“Right behind you.”  She ducked her head as she followed him up the concrete steps of the porch and into what used to be a living room, all but praying he hadn't seen the female appreciation in her eyes.

“Put the hat on.  The property was declared stable but you never know.”

Brynn followed his order, knowing how fire and water damage could weaken beams and not all of them fell immediately.  The floorboards were still waterlogged, wet ash nearly covered the remains of the owners' belongings.  “Have the owners been notified?”

“Yeah.  They're visiting family in North Carolina and won't be back for about another week, not that they have much to come back to.”  Adam emphasized his point by gesturing with a wave of his hand at the charred remains of the property.

He was right.  A large hole had burned out of the center of the floorboards in the house, most of the walls were gone and the furniture a total loss.  According to the report, the accelerant in both fires was gasoline, easily obtained and transported, but the amounts used were excessive.

“Whoever did this, definitely wanted to burn it to the ground.”  Brynn glanced around at the pile of blackened remains, searching for something, some small clue that would hint at the arsonist's identity or at least the motive behind the fires.  She picked up a long piece of wood, wishing she’d remembered to get her gloves out of her car, and started poking around the debris littering the floor.

“I've already rummaged through everything.”  Adam nodded toward the large pile of soot-covered objects that had been pushed outside of what remained of the house.  “Meticulously.”

“It doesn't hurt to have a second set of eyes, Good.”

“It's unnecessary when the first set is perfectly capable,” came his reply from behind her.

She turned to look at him from across the small room.  “The first set didn't seem to find a calling card unless it was left out of your reports.”

“A calling card?”  He stood with his feet firmly planted, his arms crossed.

“Many arsonists like to leave something behind—”

“I know what a calling card is,” Adam snapped, interrupting her.  One hand balled into a fist while the other ran through his hair.  “If I found one, it would have been in my report.  Have you ever stopped to think maybe some teenage punk is doing this for kicks?”

“You really think some teenage punk would kill your brother just for kicks?”

Adam's face reddened and drew tight as he glared at her, seeming at a loss for words or maybe just too damn mad to speak.

“Someone murdered your brother on purpose.  Then, they torched this house a month later.  They're making a statement.  We just have to figure out what the statement is.”  Brynn focused her attention back on picking through the remains, looking for anything that stuck out as odd or out of place.

“So, who are the Mulroneys anyway?”  She referenced the owners' names.

“You probably didn't know them.  They were Billy Jack's grandparents.”

“Billy Jack Perkins?”  She cocked her head, planted her hands on her hips.

“Yeah.”

“Your brother's best friend?  How could you leave that out of your report?”

Adam shrugged, his movements hostile.  “What's so important about that?”

Brynn straightened herself to her full height and stomped across what remained of the living room floor to face him.  The floorboards beneath her cracked, and her foot sank in the hole that was formed just as she reached him.  She stumbled and fell forward, but two strong arms caught her before she could land flat on her face.

“Shit, Brynn, are you all right?”  Adam pulled her up and helped her to the porch.  He forced her to sit on the steps as he checked her ankle.  “Did you break anything?”  

“No, I'm fine.”  She tried to keep the embarrassment out of her voice.  She knew better than to go stomping through a house which had sustained such a large degree of damage, yet, she had let her temper get the best of her.  Embarrassment soon turned to anger as she recalled why she stomped toward Adam in the first place.

“Your brother was murdered in the first fire and the second fire destroyed his best friend's family home.  How could you not see the connection?”

Adam's face colored as he averted his gaze and pulled her to her feet.  He turned his back to her and stepped away.

“You did see the connection!  You intentionally left it out of your report so nobody would know.  Who are you covering for?”

Adam spun around with a look in his eye that would frighten the most hardened criminal.  She stepped back as his features hardened and his eyes blazed with fury.  “You think I'm covering for my own brother's killer?”

“No,” Brynn tried to dislodge her heart from her throat.  “I think you're covering for your brother.  What did he do?”

Blue eyes darkened to a shade not found in nature as they narrowed on her, pinning her to the spot where she stood.  His breaths were short and shallow, his jaw clenched to a painful degree, and the vein in his neck bulged to the point Brynn was afraid it might burst.  Adam towered over her, his fury radiating out from him, burning her with its force and for the first time ever, she was afraid of him.  Her heart racing, she tried to open her mouth but found herself incapable of the action.

“My brother was a good man.”  Adam spoke softly, menacingly.  “I don't expect a woman of your morals to understand what it's like to be a good person, so I'll let that last remark of yours slip.”  He let out a mirthless chuckle and brought his face close to hers.  “If you think you're going to come back to my town after thirteen years and defile my family name because you're upset that guilt and shame made you leave, you're sadly mistaken, sweetheart.  I won't allow it.”

Brynn struggled to hold his stare with tears burning her eyes and threatening to spill.  She’d hurt him but she’d be damned if he was going to make her feel like a cheap whore for something she had never meant to happen.

She didn't want him to know his words had cut into her, so she mustered all the strength she had to keep her voice level and smooth.  “I think I found what I was looking for.”

Backing up a step, she turned and left what remained of the property, keeping her back straight as she left him behind with the rubble. 
Hold your head high,
she reminded herself. 
Don't ever let them see it fall.

~~~

Damn it!  Adam cursed himself as he watched Brynn walk away.  He shouldn't have said anything about her morals, but hadn't he wanted to hurt her?  All of those lonely nights he'd laid in his bed staring at the ceiling, wanting to forget her, hadn't he yearned to inflict pain on her just as she had inflicted it on him?

Didn't he want to make her feel as if she'd been kicked in the gut, stabbed in the back and had her heart ripped out bare-handed, just as she had done to him?  Still, he didn't have the satisfaction he had thought hurting her would give him.  Hurting her didn’t feel good at all.  He felt like slime. 

That’s just great.  She cheats on me with my best friend, runs off to have his baby and I’m the one feeling guilty now?

“Come on, Brynn.  Let's go,” he called to her as he walked across the yard to his truck and threw his hardhat into the back.

He looked up and realized Brynn was still headed the way they had came, walking down the dirt road at a quick pace, every hard step revealing her anger.  “Brynn!”

Dammit.  The stubborn woman was determined to walk back to the station.  Hell, she looked pretty fit—damned fit, his groin reminded him.  She could handle it.  But, what kind of man would he be to let a woman walk all that way?  Growling a hot curse, he climbed into the truck and took off after her.

“Brynn!  Stop and get in the truck,” he yelled out of the driver side window as he approached her from behind.  The only response he received was a raised middle finger as she trudged along the rutted road.

“That's very ladylike.”  Sarcasm dripped from his voice as he rolled next to her.  “Get in.”

Brynn kept her eyes forward, refusing to so much as give him a glance, and it was starting to get really damn annoying.  “Get in this truck now.”

“Go to hell!”

That wasn't the response he wanted, but it fueled his anger enough to give him an idea.  Adam sped ahead of her and jackknifed the truck, blocking the road completely and stopped her in her tracks.

He cut the engine, jumped out and stomped toward her, tired of her childish defiance.  “Get your ass in the truck right now before I put you over my shoulder and toss you in!”

“Bite me!”  Brynn stood before him with her hands planted on her gently curved hips, her breasts heaving beneath her T-shirt, anger giving her skin a blush.  “I'd rather walk than sit in that thing with you.”

He started to make an equally volatile remark, but saw the tell-tale glistening in her eyes.  The realization that he’d put the moisture there hit him hard in the gut.  He’d always hated to see a woman cry, especially the one who stood before him now on the dirt road trying so hard not to let her pain show.

She tore off the hard hat he'd given her and threw it at his face.  With his right hand, he caught it before it hit her target and turned to toss it into the back of his truck.  Then he faced her and took a step forward.

She took two steps back.

“Brynn…”  He didn't know what to say.  It would take at least an hour to make it back to the station on foot.  By then, it would be dark and he didn’t want her walking alone at night.

Something churned inside him, something large and uncontrollable, some primitive desire to hold and protect her despite what she had done.  Damn it, she was his once and he still remembered the taste of her.

Without thought, he closed the distance between them and gave into his primitive urge to taste her again.  Roughly, he sealed her mouth with his own, fighting off her protest by forcing his tongue between her soft lips, opening her to his invasion.

She broke free, shoving at his chest until his hold broke, and unsuspecting such anger, he was blindsided by a jab to the left temple.  His head jerked to the side, and she brought a knee to his groin before he could recover.  His body doubled over, reacting to the blow.  Sharp little rocks ground into his knees as they met the hard dirt road.