Burned by Desire (Highland County Heroes Book 2)

by Lily LaVae

  “So, that’s all you guys can do? Sit and joke about the cat when there’s a family burned out of their house by a greedy corporation?”

  All of them turned to the door, their mouths slightly open, except Gage. He knew who it was just by her grating voice. Melody. No one had heard her come through, which meant she’d intentionally snuck in, instead of ringing the old intercom and waiting for one of them to come let her in.

  Rabbit jumped to his feet and tripped over himself to get to the door to meet her there. Gage also hoped he would toss her right out, but Rabbit would never do that. He was just too friendly to everyone. Mi casa es su casa was his motto. He wouldn’t even toss out people who deserved it.

  “Melody, didn’t see you there. Are you here to see the chief? He just left.” Rabbit’s voice pitched higher when he was nervous.

  Gage could feel her eyes on him, boring into his back, but he wouldn’t turn around to appease her. Her shoes clicked against the cement floor as she stepped farther into the room.

  “I’m here to talk to the investigator,” she explained. “Though, from the looks of things, he hasn’t even gone back to the scene since yesterday. Too busy hanging out in the comfortable firehouse and shooting the shit with the guys. I guess if I want answers, I’d better go dig myself.”

  He sighed and stood, thrusting his hands into his pockets, finally turning to face her. He would take this slow, no matter how she pissed him off. He had to take the right steps in the right order, or the family might never know what happened and that could hold up their insurance money. “You can’t just go rooting around in there. You could destroy evidence and you’d be trespassing.” They’d set up tape and posted signs, but that probably wouldn’t stop this reporter.

  “Someone has to! What if the next house is in Devastation Circle too? Will you look into it then? Are you even looking at this as a potential arson or are you just sitting on your hands?” She stacked her hands on her hips and glared at him.

  All the guys were silent as they glanced back and forth to each other. None would say anything to her and that was for the best. If they kept quiet, she couldn’t print what they said. All the guys had always let him take the lead when the chief wasn’t around. Even though they were all the same age, they didn’t have any responsibility in their other jobs and though they were devoted, they treated the firehouse as a volunteer gig. Gage wished it was his only job.

  With measured steps and controlled breaths, he strode up to Melody and directed her into a side office usually used for naps but was meant for asking questions. There was a water cooler in there and a small fridge, though it had almost nothing in it. Both machines made a soft humming noise that seemed to get louder when he closed the door, but at least the guys wouldn’t hear them in there. He might only be a volunteer, but she didn’t need to be coming and bothering them whenever she felt like it.

  She sat on the gray vinyl sofa, her red curls flowing over her shoulders. He didn’t really want to hate her, but he didn’t want to like her, either. Once this fire investigation was over, she could go right back to the realm of the unknown and he would be happier for it. “Want a glass of water?”

  “No. I want answers. My job depends on me finding out the truth. Too bad yours doesn’t. My boss expects a report on her desk in two days.”

  He was done with her shit. “Hey. Cut the attack, lady. You want my help, then stop making me your enemy. I can already tell you my investigation won’t be done before then. You can print that the fire happened and whose house it was, but if you want the truth, you’ll have to wait like everyone else.” He reached into the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water, handing her one even though she’d said no. He sat on the other end of the sofa, giving her plenty of room.

  “Right now, you are my enemy. You’re standing in the way of my answers. I already have a pretty good idea what went down there yesterday, I just need you to actually do your job, so I can go do mine. You’re trying to tell me you haven’t done anything in twenty-four hours? What are you hiding? What do you hope to gain by blocking me? Or are you in bed with DemaCrane?”

  He clenched his teeth and set his water bottle on the table. She was baiting him to get him to talk, but her welcome had long worn out. It wasn’t true, but she knew nothing about fire investigation and he didn’t need to answer anything. “I can’t investigate until the chief gives the clear. When the scene has cooled enough for me to walk around and really look at, then I can get in there and look. Go in before, and I could end up damaging evidence, not to mention get burned.”

  “Will you at least admit that it looks suspicious?” She leaned forward and crossed her wrists, dangling her hands limp between her knees, and pursed her red lips, trying for all the world to look bored, and failing. Her anger and dislike screamed at him and he wanted to shove it right back at her.

  “I can’t do anything like that. What if it was faulty wiring, or a stove or iron left on? You’ve picked the first sensational idea and decided it’s fact. I can’t scare the whole town when it could be nothing. You keep accusing me, but maybe it was you trying to drum up a story so you can keep your new job.”

  She seethed, her eyes hotter than yesterday’s fire. “I’m not asking you to scare them, I’m asking you to prepare them. Those guys are coming. You need to take a good long look at how DemaCrane operates and how they get into these sleepy little towns.” Though she didn’t move anything except her mouth, there was an energy she threw off that scorched the air around her.

  “That company is on hold. There isn’t a thing they can do to move forward until all the snowbirds come back. Half those houses in the circle have homeowners who aren’t here.” Why burn down a community and risk being caught when they could do it legally in a few months by changing a few minds. He had to get her to see reason or whatever she printed would scare people. He didn’t really want the retreat either, but telling sensational lies wouldn’t help anyone.

  “You say they are on hold. I know better. They want to start building right now so it can be completed in one year. It will be just enough time to hire staff over the summer, train them, and be ready for winter vacationers. I’ve seen it before. This is all about money, can’t you see that?” She stood and he stood right along with her, not wanting to give her the upper hand. Her heels almost brought her eye to eye with him.

  “I can see you won’t listen to anything but your own talking.”

  She took a step closer and the scent she wore swirled into his nose and camped out in his head. His body responded to the heady aroma immediately and just for a moment, she won.

  “You think I’m here just for the story, but I’m not. I may be new to this community, but I have friends here, I have family here. I want to make this my home, which is why I fought to get this job. I don’t want DemaCrane to ruin this town. I’m sorry you do.” She picked up her purse from the couch and strode out, leaving a luscious scent and a mess for him to think about.

  Chapter 3

  The confrontation with Melody set him off and Gage called the chief to get permission to investigate the house. It was finally granted.

  The houses surrounding the wreckage seemed quieter than usual, peaceful, after the raging fire and the stress of a few days before. Though Cactus Ridge was the one area of town that had a good mix of elderly homeowners and families, no kids played outside. Just quiet. A woman, two houses down, repeatedly flipped open her curtain to watch Gage as he checked the perimeter of the house. As soon as he looked up, she let it fall back. As if, by watching him, she could figure out the same questions he had.

  Unnerving.

  He crossed the police tape and went into the locked house. The main floor was charred, and the furniture little more than skeletal remains. He could separate himself from the devastation, allow it to just be facts, because if he didn’t, the people who lived there wouldn’t get answers. A stuffed turtle lay melted on what was once the couch and it reminded him to keep moving. Get the job done. He opened th
e fridge and—though it had taken one full day for him to be able to come back and there had been no power—the inside was only tepid, and untouched by the fire.

  The upper floor had been burned, but not destroyed. The shell of the house still kept up appearances, but on the inside, it was fully gutted. It would need to be demolished, probably by the very company Melody had been so worried about.

  Everything mechanical on the main floor checked out. Since he’d been in the house and knew the fire had hit the upstairs last, it made no sense to look for the cause of the fire upstairs. He’d hoped to find an iron still plugged in, or an A/C unit with flash marks, but everything was in order.

  The most damage could be found wherever the fire was started, that was what he’d learned was almost always the case. If an accelerant was used, such as gasoline, there was often a distinct trail of severe burn amidst areas not quite so scorched, and he’d look for that. Or if the fire started in the kitchen, it would be burned hottest there and fan out.

  The door to the basement had held back the flames like a good soldier, but only one corner of it remained, attached by the top hinge. The stairs were gone completely. He went back to his truck for his ladder, careful to keep the soot away from even the bed of his truck. He slid the ladder down at the stairwell, tested the strength of the floor at the entrance point to support his weight, and climbed down to the basement.

  The fire had swept through without much obstruction, and even though everything was burned, little signs like defining dark black char showed he was reaching the epicenter. It had started in the basement, near the back. He carefully picked his way through fallen two-by-fours that had once sectioned off future walls. They had been working on the house, or the builder had left it in that state, because air had flowed freely to let the fire rage and there was no sign of drywall. He carefully documented and photographed everything he found until he made it to the laundry room in the back corner of the home.

  That area was the only part of the basement that was sectioned off with a door. It had been closed, but completely burned away. The dryer was blackened and the door blown off. Inside, were the remnants of a metal feed bucket, the type used on farms all over and available in any feed and seed. It was stretched and split until it looked like some deranged flower with the bottom missing.

  “Still think someone left the iron on?” Melody’s voice slapped him from above.

  “Don’t come in here!” He’d had to learn how to carefully tread through a fire scene. If she was in her typical heals, she’d fall through the floor and injure herself. Then he’d not only have a useless scene, he’d have to deal with helping her get out too.

  He didn’t need her down there poking her nose through his clues, either. He left the bucket and his investigation to go make sure she went about her business and stayed out of his. Had she known her prodding would make him mad enough to challenge the chief?

  “I’m not stupid.” She waited for him above, sounding like she was just outside the house. She couldn’t even know he’d been in the basement.

  He hadn’t thought she was stupid, just annoying and persistent. Once he reached the main floor, he headed out to meet her, wiping his hands off on a rag he’d left in the grass. “Why are you here? You’ve got no business here. I’ve answered all the questions I could and I’m working on my report for the family. After they get it, I’ll give you what I can. They deserve to know before the town.”

  She narrowed her hazel eyes and stared at him. “You found something, didn’t you? I’m right, aren’t I?” She crossed her arms and cocked a hip, waiting for validation he refused to give. She was shorter than he remembered and he glanced down at her feet. Instead of the usual heels, she wore brand-new work boots with her curve-hugging designer jeans. At least she hadn’t intended to break her ankles while she broke the law poking around where she shouldn’t be. He was surprised she’d even gotten out of her car after seeing his truck there.

  “I never said you were right. I was still looking, documenting. I haven’t written a report. I can’t tell you anything until I look at the evidence.” That would piss her off, but he wouldn’t budge. What was right would always be best, not what made life easiest for one gorgeous, but annoying as hell, woman.

  “Really? What other possible reason could there be for this fire?”

  The more she wanted validation, the less he wanted to give it.

  “Looks like a dryer malfunction to me.”

  Melody wanted to shove his smug ass back in the house. “A dryer malfunction? Are you serious?” If she didn’t get to the bottom of this, her boss would never give her the job she’d dangled like a carrot. She hadn’t told Gage, but she was only a temp, and had to prove she could do the job before Melva Adams actually hired her. So far, she worked for free, but she would need to start earning money soon. The rent would be due in two weeks and she had no money to pay it.

  “Yes, there’s definitely something wrong with the dryer. I was just checking it out when you came. Now, if you could move along, I’d be happy to finish and maybe I’d have enough time to still give you information for your story before it’s too late.” He glanced at the sky, his eyes raising, he checked how much daylight was left.

  He had yet to take one suggestion she’d given him. If he had, he wouldn’t be wasting his time here. He’d have that sweet ass in the library, researching DemaCrane. “What story? You refuse to take me seriously. You didn’t even bother to look into this like I asked you to.” No matter how handsome he was, he was still a jerk, standing in the way of her story.

  “You didn’t ask anything of me. You demanded it. You’ve done nothing but demand since you walked into my life, Red, and I don’t take orders very easily.”

  “Red?” She wanted to laugh. The man called himself an investigator, but he probably completely missed that red wasn’t even her natural color. Her dark roots should’ve given him a clue, but that was doubtful.

  “Go back and have your nails done, leave your card with me and I’ll call you when my report is ready. You have yet to do that, you know. It’s common courtesy to leave your information with someone, then let them do their job, so they can call you when the work is done.”

  He wanted polite? Fine. She whipped out her phone and opened the back of the case. She didn’t have any business cards yet with the newspaper, since she didn’t technically work there yet, but she still had some with her cell number on it from when she was with the college paper. She held it stiffly between her fingers and handed it to him.

  He examined it for a minute. “This doesn’t have the Times logo or information on it. I’ll need to see your press credentials.” His smirk made her want to scream.

  She dug in her purse for her temporary creds, but as usual, nothing was where it should have been. “Just a second.” She dug deeper, shoving things around in her purse until she found the tiny, thin, transparent case with the pass Melva had given her. She shoved it at Gage.

  He took it and frowned for a moment. “This says temporary, but you said this was your job. Have I been wasting my time on some college reporter with an internship?”

  Would he ever take her seriously? “No! I want this job and this is the assignment I was given. You’ll either help me or you won’t, but I will get my story. This is my home now and I won’t let some company jack the people who live here. And, I won’t let some self-important fireman decide whether or not I keep my job. I will get my story, with or without you.”

  He stood there, just staring at her, with his clipped hair and impeccably clean clothes. Almost military looking. He’d be delectable if he wasn’t such a self-assured ass. How did a guy wade through ash and not get dirty? It was almost admirable. She forced herself to notch her chin higher in defiance, but if he didn’t help her and word got out to the rest of his team that she’d threatened him, she wouldn’t find any help there, either. What a way to start her career.

  “Then by all means, go bark up some other tree.” He handed her b
ack her temporary creds and slid her card in his pocket.

  If she asked for his information, then he could call her bluff. She’d tried talking to Jack Larkington at the scene and he wasn’t going to tell her anything. Not that she couldn’t get to him easily, he just didn’t know anything. Gage was the one on the crew with the knowledge, she could sense that about him. She had to get to him.

  He turned away from her and headed back for the ladder and she enjoyed how his perfectly fitting jeans hugged his ass.

  “Wait.” She bit her lip and squashed her desire to just leave.

  “Yeah?” he prodded, his broad back rippled as he twisted to look at her, shaped nicely by a fitted tee.

  “We both know that the only other person I could go to is the chief. Do you promise to call me with whatever you have by the end of the day?” Her career hinged on this man. She didn’t want to manufacture a story, but if he didn’t come through with something more compelling than a broken dryer, she’d have to start packing and move in with her aunt, or her bestie, Livy. Neither option was a good one, but for differing reasons.

  “I make no promises. I’ll do my best, but as I said, the family gets to know first. If you don’t like that, take it up with my boss.”

  “You’re going to miss what really happened here if you focus on that stupid dryer. There’s so much more to this story. You should just let me help you and we could get this done faster.” Not to mention she could have her story written and to the editor before it was due, making her boss happy.

  “You want to investigate a fire? What do you know about fires of any kind?” She’d ticked him off and he strode toward the house, his stiff movements making his fine ass stand out against his jeans.

  “I’m an investigative reporter. That’s what I do.” She kept up with him but glanced around. It suddenly felt like their conversation was on display and she felt exposed.

  “And just what did you investigate in college? How drunk the frat boys got? Maybe, the quintessential differences between the various versions of Pride and Prejudice?” he barked, but didn’t come at her again.