Burned by Desire (Highland County Heroes Book 2)

by Lily LaVae

  Burned by Desire

  Lily Lavae

  TNT Publications

  Copyright © 2010 by Lily LaVae

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  TNT Publications PO Box 25073, Yuma, AZ 85367

  TNTAuthorServices@gmail.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Also by Lily Lavae

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Dazzling light like the sun burned its way into Gage’s corneas and he blinked to regain focus. He and his crew had trained hard for a fire like this one, but all his team members were volunteers and had seen nothing like this. Sometimes, homes scheduled for demolition were donated to the fire department for training, but this fire had gone nothing like them. Another blast from the kitchen area shook the whole structure.

  He’d been in there too long and his gut told him to get out, but someone needed him more.

  He clung to the wall and made his way along a hall, then checked the first door on his right. Clear. On to the second room. A cat jumped out at him from under the bed, terrified. The fire hadn’t reached that room yet, but it was hot and there was no way out. It was against procedure, but he couldn’t let the thing burn. He trudged to the window and threw it open, shoved out the screen, and tapped the windowsill. He wasn’t about to try to handle that animal, scared as it was. Now it was up to the cat. He didn’t waste time watching to see if it chose to live or not, he had to find the little boy who was supposed to be in one of the three upstairs rooms. One left to check.

  Gage took one last look under the bed, then tromped to the remaining bedroom. A little boy, about age five, lay on the floor. He looked like he’d passed out, either from smoke or fear, but he was alive. The rise and fall of his little chest was enough to gather that, but there wasn’t time to do much else. That fire would move up the stairs quickly.

  He took out his mask and shoved it over the boy’s face, then tightened it. The boy weighed hardly anything as he collected him off the floor. Gage opened the window and punched out the screen. Waving to the guys below in the truck, he caught their attention and they had the ladder poised a minute later. Jack, who was usually on the hose but was fast as a rabbit when it came to the ladder, sprang into action and shimmied up to the window. There was no need for talk and no time for it either, he took the boy and headed back down.

  There was another crash downstairs and over the radio in his helmet, Gage heard the chief order him to get out. He went back to the hall, but the stairs were now fully engulfed. He’d have to go down the ladder too, or risk falling through. There would be nothing left of the house to save. He’d never seen a structure go up so fast and it was on the new side of town, not some older home that had dry rot and termites.

  He got to the window and made his large frame fit through the standard bedroom window. With his bulk and his gear, it was tight and he hated doing it. Part of him always feared slipping while trying to maneuver on the ladder and falling to his death. He reminded himself that no heroes were needed. Just deliberate steps.

  He got on the ladder and slid down as the garage caved in, sending flaming embers in a mushroom cloud through the men. Those suited up were prepared, the gawkers were not.

  “Get the hell out of here! You can read about it in the paper.” The chief grabbed a few of the men to set up a perimeter, but it was too late for that. The team was too small to handle every job a larger department would’ve. The scene was already contaminated, with people coming and going. If this was arson, whoever started it was long gone.

  They kept fighting until they were all worn out and there wasn’t much left of the inside of the building but blackened wood framework, smoke, and hot ashes. Gage allowed himself to lean against the back of the truck for a minute, poured some water in his hand, then splashed it over his face. He could feel the grease and sweat from fire and soot. He liked his life orderly and soot never was. It got underneath his fingernails, ended up in his truck, and ruined some of his clothes. But giving up a little order so others could feel safe was part of the job.

  Once his face was cool, he took a long pull off the bottle of water. The boy he’d hauled from the fire sat in the back of the ambulance, awake. They’d take him to the hospital in Blackjack just to make sure everything checked out, but the fact that he was already conscious was a good sign.

  “Mrs. Moen thanks you.” Jack “Rabbit” Larkington came over and stood next to him. He already had his jacket off and stood in just a tee and his turnouts. Sweat darkened his whole shirt.

  “For the cat?” He was joking, of course, but a little levity was important after the stress.

  “Sure, the cat. He did make it out, by the way. Found him in the back tree. We sent the family to The Inn and Rover to the vet to be looked at.”

  “Rover? The cat’s name is Rover?” It had been a big orange thing about the size of a Pomeranian. “Whatever. I suppose Chief needs me?” He stretched his aching muscles, shrugged off his air tank, then peeled off his turnout jacket. Just having the weight off lifted his shoulders.

  “Nope. Chief has the rookies doing site clear-out. We’re supposed to bat cleanup.” Jack nodded to a noisy line forming in the distance. “We need to interview them and make sure none of them saw anything.”

  The sleepy community of Santinas didn’t usually rally, unless it was around high school football, but a fire was something unusual and everyone knew the victims. In a town that size, everyone knew everyone. And their business. Gage turned and a woman in tight jeans, heels high enough to make her tower over others, and a tiny sport coat, slid under the barrier and headed right for them.

  “See, bat cleanup. I call pinch.” Rabbit laughed.

  “No fair, you’ll just leave.”

  “Exactly, the pinch hitter only has to come through in the clutch. You’re the star.” He saluted as he walked away, laughing. Gage groaned as she approached and he tried to look busy.

  “Excuse me?” Her voice grated on him and he stood up, affecting a non-committal posture. He wasn’t allowed to say anything about the fire and wouldn’t say anything until he was cleared to anyway. Especially not to the press, and she was obviously a reporter with her self-important glare and attitude that she was too important for the barrier. He’d have to wait until the whole area cleared of people and cooled just a little before he could investigate, which meant he didn’t know any more than she did. It also meant he had to face her in his filthy, sweaty turnout gear.

  “Melody Reddi
ng, Santinas Times.” She flipped her long red hair behind her shoulder but didn’t offer her hand. Instead, she seemed to notice little about him above his neck.

  She certainly wasn’t what he’d come to expect from the Times. The ancient lady who ran it was older than his mom and the one reporter he knew about was just as old. He chuckled and she glared at him, finally looking him in the eye, but he couldn’t help it. The Times was a weekly publication read mostly by the elderly who had lived in town all their lives and couldn’t give it up to get their news elsewhere.

  “And what’s your day job?” He wouldn’t make her job easy. The other reporter loved to give the police and firefighters a hard time. This one wouldn’t be any different.

  “This is my day job, what’s yours?” She yanked out her phone and hit a few buttons then held it up to his face to record him.

  He pushed the phone away and stepped back. “Aren’t you going to ask me if I’ll allow you to record me?” He took a breath and then a swig of water. Women like her were always in the bars, getting in everyone’s face for some grievance he could never quite figure out. They never trusted anyone or anything, and never respected what a man said anyway.

  “No. Federal law says I can record an in-person conversation if at least one person consents.” She held the phone close to her red lips as she stared him in the eyes. “I consent.” She said the words clearly and slowly, her lips drawing massive attention. “Now that we have that finished, tell me about the fire. Isn’t this the first residential fire Santinas has seen in over twenty years?”

  He hadn’t looked at the books before he’d rushed out to the call, but it had been a very long time. They often went to shed fires, where gardening fertilizer ignited, or porch fires where someone grilling got a little too zealous, but nothing like this. “I cannot confirm that without looking. Despite my appearance, I’m not a walking Wiki.”

  She rolled her eyes at his joke and went on. “Are you aware that this fire was the first house mapped as part of Devastation Circle?”

  He was aware, but hadn’t really considered it a possible connection. Devastation Circle was what the locals called a group of homes that needed to be sold and demolished in order to build a huge resort on Los Hermanos, the nearby lake. Some of the homes were owned by snowbirds, and the contractors couldn’t do a thing because most of the mortgage holders would do nothing until they returned for winter.

  As positive as the property management company made it sound for the town, very few people wanted a resort right in their back yard. Everyone worried it would be loud and bring in the wrong kind of people. Mostly, they worried it would make bigger retailers come to the area, killing the small businesses.

  “Yes, I was aware,” Gage answered. “I don’t think it has any bearing on the fire, but I’ll know more when I investigate.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “So, you’re not only the savior of small boys and fat cats, you get to be the investigator as well. How many hats do you wear, Mr…?” She held out the phone and he had an urge to tap it out of her hands, but if it broke, his department would have to buy a new one and they were underfunded already.

  “No Mr., just Gage Lewison.” He took a drink of his water, finishing it and wishing he had another to replace it. His throat was dry after the oxygen and the smoke. He was used to the arid weather, but his lungs and throat felt like he’d inhaled a burning coal.

  “Mr. Lewison. Pleasure to meet you. How much do you know about DemaCrane Property Management?” She leaned on her hip and he had the strangest vision of a stork with red hair and matching lips.

  “DemaCrane is a company that specializes in resort communities all over New Mexico.” He’d looked into them a bit when the first plans were laid out for a community vote. Much of the town had turned out to appeal the decision to build, but it didn’t matter much since the whole plan hedged on a string of property owners—Devastation Circle. They had decided not to sell. The city had no plans to make them sell until the community wanted the business and Blackjack, the county seat, wasn’t making them, yet.

  “And have you bothered to look into their past, Mr. Lewison? If you had, you would understand why I’m asking.”

  Her use of his last name was like broken glass over his skin. “It’s Gage, and no, I haven’t. What does this have to do with the fire, or are you here just to make conversation? If it’s the latter, I’ve got work to do.” Even if it was the former, he’d find an excuse soon.

  She rolled her eyes and drew the phone to her lips once more. “Note that Lewison has a bold posture and is combative.”

  “Combative?” He stood up straight, tired of her and her attitude. “You haven’t even begun to see me combative.” He took a step closer and Jack was there in an instant, holding his arm.

  “Whoa there. Pinch hitter time. Gage, the chief is asking for you. I’ll answer the rest of your questions.” Rabbit ticked his head toward the chief and turned to face the redhead.

  He could have her.

  Chapter 2

  Three days on call at the firehouse, one day off to rest. Those were followed by three days on call as an EMT, then one day off. The town was so small, both of Gage’s bosses were drinking buddies and his schedule never changed. He’d been volunteering for three years, and working as an EMT for just as long.

  Rabbit hit him in the chest with the back of his hand. “Pass the remote, this show sucks.” He held out his hand, waiting for Gage to react. It was some cooking show and none of them had been watching it. They hadn’t even said much since coming out of the meeting.

  Gage tossed it over, avoiding Rabbit’s hand. Dylan and Kyle both laughed as Rabbit scooped it out of the air. The chief had left, and they were all taking a much-needed minute of rest, since they were on call and none of them had anywhere pressing to be for a change, unless the alarm bell rang. After a fire like the day before, they were all on edge, waiting for that shrill sound.

  “Gage, you going to the game on Friday? The Cats play the Vipers.” Dylan picked up the football sitting next to his chair and tossed it in the air, catching it to his chest. He’d been the star quarterback back when he’d played for the Wildcats in high school.

  “Don’t know. I’m technically supposed to be in the shed. I don’t have off and I’d have to make sure I had service to my phone, since I’m on call.”

  Dylan tossed him the ball. “You never take a break. It’s always either this job or your other one and both are high-stress. If you don’t find some way to get rid of that stress, you’ll just combust.” He made a sound like an explosion. “Then we’ll have to come to the fire, so don’t do it, man. What you need is a little action.” He tossed the ball to Kyle.

  Gage hadn’t had any action aside from his job in a long time, probably college if he really thought about it, and that was years ago. There just wasn’t time. He liked his life orderly and women messed up the order. They wanted to go out, do things, talk—he never had time for any of that. He could handle the stress, needed it. A break was out of the question.

  The department wasn’t big enough to handle any full-time firefighters other than the chief. The EMT job paid the bills and taught him more skills to make him a better firefighter. What his friends didn’t know was that he was also taking a course to make it easier to investigate fires, but that was online and only when he could. It wasn’t even all that necessary in the small town, or it hadn’t been until now.

  Doubt about the fire nagged at him. He didn’t want the reporter to be right, but there were too many strange things about that fire not to question it. Either way, he had to keep up both careers, because even with his investigator training, the town couldn’t pay him. If he had to cut it down to one job, he’d move to Blackjack where they had a dedicated fire department. He didn’t want to leave, but he’d rather move than give up on firefighting.

  “I’m just doing my job,” Gage said. “It isn’t like I can quit either one. Don’t want to.”

  Kyle tossed the ball back to D
ylan.

  “Guys. I’m trying to watch a show here.” Rabbit threw his hands in the air and growled.

  Kyle leaned forward and rattled the table where Rabbit’s massive feet were propped. “Hey, relax.” He leaned his head back against the wall, flipping his perfect hair over his eyebrow. “That fire was crazy.” He’d gone from joking to deadly serious in a flash. Kyle was the trendiest of all of them—none of the others cared much what they wore. But he was also the one mostly likely to start a conversation when they needed to. Someone had to broach it other than the chief and now the door had been opened.

  They’d all been thinking about it, but no one had wanted to mention it. Gage had worried they would think he was a pussy for thinking it was intense.

  Dylan set the football aside and leaned forward in his seat. “We were told that house fires are different than any other small building, but that was extreme.”

  Gage didn’t know much more than they did, but he had to agree. He hadn’t been cleared to go investigate yet and it was the first real housefire he’d been in where he had no idea what pattern the burn would take, because it hadn’t been like the demolitions where he’d watched them light it. “There was a point, upstairs, where I questioned my training.” He knew they should’ve been in there right after the fire to investigate, but the chief had decided they would wait and his word was law.

  The other three men gave a silent nod. Rabbit cracked a smile. “At least Rover was fine.”