“I’ve been poring over the list of former firefighters and wannabe firefighters to see if we can narrow that field down, but so far, I’ve got nothing.”
Scrubbing his hand over his face, squinting his tired eyes shut for a moment, Sean heaved a great sigh. “So, basically, we’ve got a whole bunch of nothing.”
“That’s what makes these fuckers so hard to find.”
An exasperated chuckle erupted from deep within his chest, and he shook his head. “Tell me again why we became arson detectives.”
“Fuck if I know. At least you came by it honestly with your dad being in the FBI. Hell, my dad was a drunk who spent more time in the tank than at home.” Blowing out a breath, he added, “Thank God for the Army, right? Straightened my ass out.”
They sat in silence for another moment before Sean looked down at the open folders on his desk. “Okay, let’s go back over this shit. What is this guy’s motive? We know why firebugs have to set fires, so what can we rule out with this guy?”
“Crime concealment. That’s what homicide is looking at with the Treyson murder. But that’s not our guy. Extremism? Nah. He’s not targeting any social or political cause. Profit? No, again. He doesn’t own these buildings.”
“Okay, that’s three out of the way,” Sean said. “Could be vandalism, but that’s usually young people and with accelerants that are easy to get hold of. I’d say we're looking at excitement or revenge.”
Jonas pinned him with a hard stare. “What does your gut tell you?”
“Revenge. Almost like he’s taunting us, but still, it’s motivated by his anger over something. He leaves a small pile of non-descript rocks at the sites, but nothing else to go on. It’s his personal calling card but who the fuck knows what it means.”
He shifted forward in his chair. “So, I keep going back to the carbon disulfide. I’ve contacted many of these chemical companies, asking them to provide information on customers in this region. Several of them have responded with a few names for us to check out. A few of the companies will only sell to someone who has a business license, but I don’t want to rule them out, so I’m having them send me any local businesses that have ordered it. One of the companies refuses to give out any information on their customer list without a warrant, and the others I’m waiting on. Let’s crosscheck the names from your list with the names on my list and see if we get anything.”
“Works for me,” Jonas agreed, spreading papers across both of their desks
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into coming here,” Harper said, walking into The Celtic Cock with Sandy.
“Because when we talked, you said you’d had a crappy day at work, and I hated the idea of you going home with no company other than grumpy Smokey.”
Harper shot a glare at her friend. “Hey, my cat’s not grumpy!”
Sandy grinned. “Your cat only likes you. Well, maybe he likes Daniel also.”
“He’s just misunderstood,” Harper exclaimed, still defending her cat.
“You came!”
Looking to the other end of the bar, she spied Bill standing with a few other firefighters. Harper followed Sandy, who managed to dart amongst the crowd in spite of her diminutive size. Two of the firefighters slid off their stools, offering them to the women.
Sandy, smiling her brilliant cheerleader smile, allowed one to assist her up, while Harper rolled her eyes at her friend. Hefting her own booty onto the bar seat, she rested her left arm on the bar.
Bill slid around to her side, his gaze on her splint. “How are you doing?” Glancing to the side toward his friends, he said, “She had a little accident yesterday.”
She waved her right hand in front of her face dismissively. “Oh, I’m fine. It was just a hairline fracture that occurred when I tripped at work.”
Torin Flanigan was working as the bartender and made his way down to them. “What can I get you?”
Sandy, still smiling, ordered a lemondrop, but when Torin turned toward Harper, she sighed. “Just a Coke, please.”
His gaze dropped to her wrist, and he shook his head. “Damn, Harper. I’ll make you something special.”
Sandy’s eyes widened as she looked at Harper. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I forgot that you can’t drink if you’re taking pain medicine.”
“Well, I haven’t taken it today, but I plan on taking it tonight. Better to stick with something nonalcoholic for now.”
Torin set a drink in front of her. “Here you go, Doll. It’s a virgin margarita.” Leaning forward, he added, “On the house, Harper. I figure you deserve it after breaking your wrist.”
Thanking him, she took a sip, murmuring her appreciation. He moved on down the bar, and she caught the eye of his sister, Maeve, and waved before turning her attention back to her drink.
Sandy glanced over her shoulder at the man candy nearby. “Obviously, I know Bill and Blay, but you’re new.”
The third firefighter smiled, flashing a white-toothed grin that would rival Sandy’s. “I’m Rory. Just started with the HCFD. Blay and I grew up together.”
“So, why am I just now meeting you?” Sandy’s blue eyes were wide with interest.
Harper and Bill shared a look, and she busied herself taking a sip of her drink before she laughed out loud.
“I just got out of the Army,” Rory replied, his dark blue eyes never leaving Sandy’s.
Leaving them to their flirting, Bill leaned toward Harper. “Working on anything new?”
“I’ve got five cases on my desk right now.”
Shaking his head, Bill said, “We’re into winter and that’ll mean more fires.”
“I was just thinking the same thing. Actually, two of the fires I was writing up today started with heaters.”
“People get cold and desperate in the winter and just make poor choices with their heating,” Blay said, his smile replaced with a grimace.
“So, about that warehouse fire.” Bill took another sip of his beer, looking at her. “Everyone is surmising that it was set to cover Treyson’s murder and not part of the arsonist’s fires.”
She shrugged. “I figure the arson detectives will get that all sorted.”
Sandy turned back to their conversation. “Yes, well it was one of the arson detectives that broke your arm!”
“What?” Rory and Blay exclaimed in unison.
Having just taken a sip, Harper choked as the liquid slipped down the wrong way. Bill pounded her on the back, which only made her sputter more. Finally gaining control of herself, she wiped her watery eyes. “Sandy! You know good and well that no one broke my arm.” She looked at the others and offered an explanation. “I just happened to be at the fire site, and one of the arson detectives startled me. When I fell over, I broke my arm.”
“Damn!” Blay’s gaze dropped from her face to her arm.
Continuing to shake her head, she shrugged. “Detective McBride felt really bad. He even took me to the ER and then back to my car.”
A sound that resembled Smokey hacking up a fur ball came from beside her, and she jerked around to see Blay and Rory attempting to hold back laughter. They were unsuccessful and soon gave in to their howls. Harper looked between Sandy and Bill, but both seemed as confused as she.
Finally gaining control of himself, Rory said, “Perhaps I should’ve introduced myself fully. I’m Rory McBride. My oldest brother is Detective Sean McBride.”
Still laughing, Blay added, “I would’ve never thought Sean would have had such a disastrous introduction to someone.”
Mortified that she was in the presence of Sean’s brother, she was incensed that they were laughing at him. “It wasn’t his fault!
Rory threw his hands up, palms forward. “I’m sorry, really I am. It’s just my oldest brother is always correct in everything he does. He prides himself on being responsible. Sometimes it’s a little hard for the rest of us to live up to his standards.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave a little squeeze. “But you’re right, I have no doubt he
felt horrible about this.”
Before she had a chance to reply, he glanced at his phone. “I hate to drink and run, but I’ve got to go.”
Sandy cocked her head to the side and lifted an eyebrow. “Hot date?”
Grinning, he winked. “More like a hot meal with my mom and dad.” When she beamed her smile at him again, they shared phone numbers before he moved into the crowd and left.
Blay’s attention was diverted by some of the other firefighters, and Harper looked back to her two friends. “Of all the people, in all the world, in all the bars, I have to run into Detective McBride’s brother.”
“Maybe it’s fate,” Sandy said, tapping her manicured forefinger on her chin.
“More like just another chance for me to put my foot in my mouth!”
While Sandy finished her drink and flirted with Torin, Harper and Bill chatted about the fires in the area. Soon the three walked out into the cool night air. Coming to Sandy’s car first, they hugged her goodbye and watched as she drove down the road. Bill threw his arm around Harper as they continued down the sidewalk toward her car.
“Don’t work too hard,” he said as she pressed her keyfob to unlock her doors.
“Same to you.” Her smile dropped as she added, “It’s bad enough that we have so many accidental fires set, but the arsonist is keeping us busy.”
Bill shrugged. “I always wanted to be a firefighter. Love putting out fires. So, I suppose for me, how they start isn’t as important as making sure to save the people and the structure.”
Not having anything to say to that, Harper gave him a quick hug. She climbed behind the steering wheel and lifted her left hand in an awkward wave as she drove down the street, glancing in the rearview mirror to see him still standing there, staring after her.
8
Sean drove down the familiar residential street, pulling into his parents’ driveway. It never failed that when he visited, he noted the King’s home next door and the memories of not only his and Brock’s childhood but all of the McBrides’ and Kings’ get-togethers.
His mom often related the tale of standing at her kitchen window when he was a toddler and yelling for his dad when she saw a family moving into the house next door. According to them, that was the day he met Brock. Both families stayed in the two large homes, and as more kids came along, they were all raised like siblings instead of just neighbors.
Sometimes he wondered where the McBrides ended and the Kings began. Six McBride kids and five King children. Cookouts, carpools, sports. And constellation nights. His dad and Brock’s dad, Chauncey, loved to drag out the telescopes into the back yards and show the stars to all the kids, pointing out the constellations.
Jerking out of his musings, he realized he had been sitting in the driveway for several minutes. He had no idea which family members would be here tonight. His mother loved trying to get them all together, but their schedules often conflicted. Going through the back door, he walked into the kitchen, seeing his mother pulling a ham out of the oven. The scent of meat, vegetables, and buttered rolls filled the air, and he groaned in appreciation.
Sharon looked up, her smile spreading wide across her face. “Sean!”
He skirted around the counter and bent to kiss her cheek. “Hey, Mom.”
She beamed up at him, her eyes roving over his face, studying carefully. “You look tired honey.”
“I’m good, Mom. And I’ll be even better after your good cooking.”
“Flatterer,” she accused, but preened nonetheless. “Your father’s in the den with Erin. Go call them and tell them that dinner is ready.”
“No one else here?”
Her face fell, and she sighed as her hands fluttered around. “Rory might come by. Tara’s at home with Colleen. Caitlyn has a school program to attend. And Kyle? Lord knows where he is or what he’s doing.”
He walked down the hall and entered the den, the large room filled with comfortable furniture. As he glanced at the room’s occupants, he could tell his father’s attention was on the game. Colm had been an investigator with the FBI, only retiring six months ago after suffering a mild heart attack. His surgery had been successful as had his recuperation, but Sharon was not taking any chances. He still served as a part-time consultant, causing Sharon to fret over the stress of Colm’s job. She had even retired from her job as a school secretary to take care of him. Now, they spent time volunteering with their church and other organizations when Colm was not consulting.
His sister Erin appeared lost in thought. She had had that same look on her face for most of the last few weeks since receiving her discharge from the Army. Whereas her twin Rory immediately jumped into being a volunteer firefighter while applying for paramedic training, Erin seemed to struggle with what to do with her life. Deciding that he would ask her to lunch sometime soon, he hoped he could get her to talk to him. If not him, then their sister, Tara. As a social worker and a mom, Tara was a perfect listener and sounding board. Maybe I should talk to Tara first.
Colm looked up, his smile spreading across his face as he spied his oldest. “Sean! Good to see you, Son.” He stood, and the two men shook hands before pulling each other into a hug.
Erin smiled, standing as well, and he wrapped his arms around her.
“Mom says dinner’s ready.”
Clapping his hands then rubbing them together, Colm boomed, “Then let’s eat!”
With his arm still wrapped around his sister, Sean and Erin followed their dad into the dining room. The four of them settled around the table, and Sean could not help but remember how full the table always seemed with all eight of them when they were growing up. He knew his mother had hoped for a passel of grandchildren by now, but that had not been life’s choosing so far.
Tara was the only one who had a little girl, Colleen. Married soon after graduate school, she was thrilled to find out that she was soon pregnant... but her husband was not. He chafed at the idea of fatherhood, still wanting to spread his wings. It was not long before he also chafed at the idea of marriage. He walked away from Tara soon after Colleen was born, and while Sean knew it broke her heart, the family rallied around, giving her the support she needed. Of course, he, Kyle, and Brock paid her ex-husband a late-night visit when they were home on leave. What happened that night had never been spoken about by them since, but it made him feel a lot better knowing the asshole would not attempt to get his hands on Tara’s hard earned money.
“Eat up, everyone,” Sharon encouraged.
Now at the table, he began filling his plate and passing the dishes.
“Anything new at work that you can talk about?” Colm asked.
He appreciated that his father knew that much of his work could not be discussed. Chewing slowly, he replied, “Brock will be handling everything at the warehouse, and I have nothing new on the serial arsonist.”
Sharon shook her head. “It’s hard to believe that Samuel Treyson was murdered, God rest his soul. But I’m just as glad that you’re not in homicide. I know the press is hounding the police. I was talking with Hannah this morning, and Chauncey’s up to his ears in it.”
He shared a quick glance with his father, a slight smile playing about his lips. His father would understand that the press would follow any story, and when the arsonist struck again, they would be all over the Arson Division.
Just then, the back door opened, and Rory’s voice called out. “Hey, am I too late for dinner?”
Sharon’s face beamed at the idea of another one of her children tucking their feet under her table again. “Rory! Come on!” She hopped up to get another plate, meeting her son in the doorway to the dining room, giving him a hug and kiss. “Go on and sit down. I’ll be right there with some iced tea.”
Rory greeted them all, giving his twin, Erin, an extra-long hug before taking the chair across from Sean. Piling his plate with food, he dug in as though ravenous. He had lived at home for the first month after getting out of the Army but soon found a room with one of the o
ther firefighters. Sean had not seen Rory’s apartment but assumed it was more of a bachelor crash pad. The twins were four years younger than he, and Rory showed no signs of settling down.
The conversation easily moved between the Hope City Marauders football team, the upcoming winter forecast, the latest political news, and neighborhood gossip.
After shoveling in his last bite, Rory leaned back in his seat, thanked his mother for a good meal, then settled his gaze on Sean. A shit-eating grin slid across his face. “I hear you’ve got a great new way to pick up the ladies, bro.”
Having already finished his meal, Sean had also leaned back in his seat, enjoying the conversation when Rory’s statement hit his ears. Holding his brother’s gaze, he tilted his head to the side in question.
“I met a smokin’ hot girl tonight that has experienced firsthand your smooth new way of meeting someone.”
Sharon had walked into the kitchen to get the dessert but hustled back in, her eyes bright with interest and bouncing between her sons. “Sean, you met someone?”
“I would ask what you’re talking about, but since you usually can’t keep your mouth shut, I’m sure you can’t wait to tell me.”
Rory glanced up at their mom and said, “Sean’s decided that instead of a smooth pickup line, what works best is for them to get injured, and then he swoops in and takes them to the ER. I personally think it’s his savior complex.”
Confusion morphed into anger. “Shut up, Rory. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I most certainly do. I met Harper this evening. She was at The Celtic Cock and is friends with Bill, another firefighter. That’s how I found out she was with you when she broke her arm.”
Harper was drinking at the pub? She was with a firefighter? She told someone I was the reason her arm was broken?
A Hope City Duet Page 29
