“You broke someone’s arm?” Erin asked, finally joining the conversation.
“I did not break her arm.” Unable to keep the growl from his voice, he glared at Rory.
“Well, why don’t you tell us about Harper?” Colm encouraged. “Sounds like a tale I’d like to hear.”
By now, Sharon had served the cake and plopped back down in her seat, her eyes never leaving Sean’s face. “She broke her arm? With you?”
Sighing, he squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. With a last glare toward a still-grinning Rory, he said, “I was at an arson site and might have called out too loudly. Anyway, she fell backward and injured herself. I felt bad and drove her to the ER. It turns out that she’s a fire evidence collector for an insurance company and that’s why she was there.”
Glancing around the table, he caught Erin’s wide-eyed stare, his father’s grin, Rory’s smirk, and his mother’s hopeful expression. “I can’t believe she told you that I broke her arm,” he said, his gaze back on Rory.
“Oh, she didn’t. In fact, she was singing your praises. Said the accident was her fault and that you had taken care of her.”
“Are you going to see her again?” Sharon asked. His mother was practically vibrating as she bounced in her seat.
“Other than professionally, probably not—”
“She’s hot,” Rory interrupted.
“Why not?” Sharon asked. “You at least want to find out how she is.”
“I called her today to check on her—”
Erin jumped in, saying, “So you are still in contact with her?”
Swinging his head around, he wondered when his sister had decided to join the conversation. “I wanted to make sure she was okay.”
“And is she?” Sharon asked.
The Inquisition had nothing on his family for wearing someone down. “She was back at work today, and obviously,” shooting another glare at Rory, “she was out with friends tonight, so she must be fine.”
“Well, I think—” Sharon began.
“Sweetheart,” Colm interrupted. “I think Sean can handle himself.”
Dessert finished as their conversation finally moved off Sean and Harper. Once the dishes were rinsed and put away, goodbyes began. He hugged Erin and whispered, “Let’s do lunch sometime soon. Just the two of us.” He felt her nod against his chest and gave an extra little squeeze. Releasing her, he hugged his dad and then moved to his mom.
She lifted a hand and cupped his cheek. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but there was a look on your face when you talked about Harper. Check on her again.”
“I will, Mom. I promise.”
Rory had said his own goodbyes, and the two brothers walked out to their vehicles at the same time. Rory said, “Didn’t mean for Mom to go all crazy on you in there when I mentioned Harper. I just thought it was funny how you two met.”
“I know, Bro. It’s all good.”
After hugs and backslaps, Rory held his gaze. “I was serious about her defending you, though. You should call her and not just to check on her.”
“You said she was there with one of the firefighters.” He tried to make his voice casual but was surprised at the touch of jealous interest that snaked through him.
“Oh, they were just friends. You could tell that was all. Seriously, Sean. Call her.”
Once home, he poured two fingers of whiskey, then sank into the soft leather of his sofa, stretching out his legs and putting his socked feet on the coffee table. Pulling out his phone, he called Tara. “Hey, Sis. How are you and Colleen?”
“We’re good, Sean. She’s got a bit of a cold, but other than that, life’s moving along. When she’s better, we’ll make it to the next family dinner.”
He was always impressed with Tara. In many ways, she was like him, perhaps because she was the oldest girl in the family. She was a natural mother, and he only wished she had chosen a more deserving husband. But then Colleen was a doll, so it was hard to imagine life without her.
“Listen, I know it’s late, but I wanted to see if you could find time to talk to Erin.”
There was a slight hesitation. “Sure, but what’s up?”
“Honestly, I don’t know, Tara. She just seems... sad.”
“Sean, she’s going through a transition. From military to civilian. Back to living at home for a while.”
“Yeah, but so did Rory, and he’s jumped into life here in Hope City—”
“They’re completely different people.”
“I know, but still... I just think she could use her big sister.”
Tara laughed softly. “Of course, I’ll talk to her. Anyway, she and I need to catch up. I’ll call her tomorrow.” After another pause, she encouraged, “Tell me about Harper.”
“How the hell did you... damn, did Mom call you already?”
Now her laughter rang out. “She called me right after you left her house.”
He shook his head, wondering why he was surprised. After all, there were no secrets to be kept in their family. “I’ll tell you what I told them... I met her through work and took her to the ER when she had an accident. That’s all there is to tell.”
“Then I should warn you, brother dear, Mom is hoping you’ll see her again.”
They continued to chat for another moment then disconnected after their goodbyes. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out Harper’s card. Professional, with Eastern Mutual’s logo on the front, but when flipped over, her handwriting with her name and cell phone number captured his attention. Delicate. Feminine. Just like her.
He pulled out his phone then hesitated, glancing at the time. It was not that late, but he knew she may have taken a pain pill to go to bed early. I’ll call her tomorrow.
With that vow, he finished his whiskey, and after depositing the rinsed, empty glass into the sink made his way to his bedroom. That night, for the first time in a long time, he did not worry over unsolved cases or fire scenes. Instead, a beautiful, auburn-haired Harper moved in and out of his dreams.
9
Harper walked into her apartment and smiled her greeting toward Smokey. Bending, she rubbed his silky fur, scratched under his chin. “I know, I know, Mom is late. Let’s get you fed.”
Placing food in his dish, she spied her pain pills on the kitchen counter. Do I need it? As tired as she was, she did not think sleep would be a problem but really wanted to get another good night's sleep and knew with her splinted arm that would be difficult. She fixed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, threw some chips on a paper plate, and poured a glass of milk. At least she would be able to take her pill on a full stomach.
She had just finished her simple meal when a knock on her door had her peeking through the peephole. Throwing it open, she welcomed Daniel inside.
“I come bearing gifts.” The scent of fruit wafted from a pie plate that was held in his hand.
She lifted the aluminum foil to expose half of a cherry pie. “Where did you get that?”
“Guess.”
“Four-C, right?”
He cackled. “You got it. Mrs. McAllister brought down a pie for me. Supposedly, it’s because I helped fix the stuck window in her bedroom.”
Grabbing two saucers while he set the pie on the kitchen counter, she looked over her shoulder. “Yes, but we all know that she has a thing for you.”
“There’s no way I’m going to become husband number four!”
Her shoulders shook with laughter. “I think that’s very wise!” Cutting two large slices, she placed them on the saucers with forks and they sat at her small table. “At least you get something delicious out of it. This is really good.”
Daniel asked, “You didn’t work late today, did you?”
“No, Sandy wanted to go to The Celtic Cock, so we met there. I didn’t drink, but I had a chance to unwind a little bit. Believe it or not, I met the firefighter brother of the detective I just met.”
“Small wo
rld,” he mumbled over a large bite of pie.
They continued to chat for a few more minutes, then he wrapped the remainder of the dish and placed it in her refrigerator. “I’m trying to watch my weight, so I’m gonna let you finish the pie.” He rubbed Smokey's head on his way out. “Don’t forget to lock up.”
She rinsed the dishes, turned out the lights, and headed to her bedroom. After her evening ritual, she climbed into bed and found that sleep did not come easily. The memory of meeting Rory and finding out he was Sean’s brother stayed with her.
When her phone rang, she grabbed it off her nightstand, secretly wishing for it to be Sean, knowing that was a foolish hope. Seeing her mom’s name, she rolled her eyes, embarrassed that she had even considered it might have been him. She had sent her mom a text before going to sleep the night of her accident and knew she would be concerned.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetheart. I know it’s kind of late, but I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I’m actually in bed. I took a pain pill and figured I would get a good night’s sleep.”
“Did you go to work today?”
A chuckle was her answer, and her mother sighed in return. “I should’ve known you would. Your father and I were thinking of driving up and seeing you sometime soon. Will you check your calendar and let us know what weekend looks good?”
She loved Hope City, but the one downside was missing her parents. They hated the big city, but with both still working, they were relegated to weekend visits unless it was a holiday or the summer when they could take more time off. Her father was a high school principal and her mother was the head of the Fine Arts program in their tiny county.
Tears pricked her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away. Why am I so emotional? Loneliness hit her and she said, “I’m not working weekends unless I get called in, so you and Dad pick a weekend, and we’ll make it work.”
“That sounds great, sweetie.” Her mom did not disguise the excitement in her voice. “I can’t wait to see you.”
With heartfelt declarations of love followed by goodbyes, they disconnected. Sliding down into bed, Harper propped her left arm on an extra pillow and closed her eyes once more. Images of Sean McBride moved through her mind as the drug worked its magic and she slid into sleep.
In a deep slumber, the phone rang twice before Sean jerked awake, grabbing it from his nightstand. The barest hint of daylight was peeking through the blinds, and he glanced at the clock. Jesus... six fucking o’clock.
“McBride,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep. He listened to the address of the suspicious fire. “You call Miller?” Receiving the affirmative, he climbed from bed, glad that he had gotten almost a full night’s sleep.
After dressing quickly, he poured coffee into his travel mug and climbed into his SUV. The fire was in a single-family home in a modest neighborhood. By the time he arrived, the firefighters were emptying and rolling their hoses. The dawn had broken and sunlight was casting a pale pink hue onto the blackened hole of a garage and one side of the house. At first glance, it did not appear that the house would be a total loss. It was evident that the fire had started in the garage, and he walked up the driveway to talk to the firefighters.
Jonas drove up a few minutes later, and he stalked to his partner. “Smoke detector went off and alerted the homeowner at about four a.m. He reports he got up and got his family and their dogs outside. By that time, he could see the garage was completely engulfed in flames and called the fire department.” Pointing to the house next door, he added, “That neighbor came out, concerned about the fire burning so close to his house, and hooked up a water hose, spraying the side of the garage until the firefighters came.”
“Preliminary report from the firefighters?”
“That’s why we were called in. According to the homeowner, there was nothing in the garage that should have spontaneously combusted. Mowing season is over, so while there’s a gasoline can, he said it was virtually empty. Obviously, there was gasoline in his car which was parked in the garage, but the fire appeared to start on the other side, closest to the door leading into the kitchen.”
“And their car?”
“Yeah…” Sean nodded to the car that was parked on the street.
“In this weather, he parked on the street instead of in the garage?” Jonas lifted his eyebrow.
Once they were given the okay by the firefighter in charge, they put on their hardhats and gloves and entered the garage. As Sean walked around, his gaze was pinned to following the fire’s behavior.
“No multiple points of origin,” Jonas noted aloud.
“Uh-huh. And it started close to the door leading into the kitchen as opposed to where any of the possible flammable liquids were stored.” It was easy to understand the firefighter’s suspicions.
Jonas knelt to look for evidence of incendiary devices, and Sean continued his inspection by walking through the door into the kitchen. The side of the kitchen that backed to the garage was charred. Moving around, he noted that the fire did not start at the level of the cabinets near the stove, but the heaviest burn was near the floor.
A man, dressed in jeans, a shirt that was not buttoned all the way, and a jacket, his hair still wild from having run his fingers through it, stepped to the door the kitchen. “I’ve called my insurance company. They said they’d send somebody out.”
Carefully observing him, Sean asked, “I’m Detective McBride. And you are…?”
“Oh, sorry, I am Brian Kotowski. This is my house.” His wide-eyed gaze moved about the charred ruins of one side of his kitchen and he shook his head slowly. “Well, was my house.”
Jonas stepped into the kitchen as well, and Sean said, “This is Detective Miller. This is the homeowner, Mr. Kotowski.”
Jonas nodded his greeting. “Mr. Kotowski, what time did you notice the fire?”
“Um... the smoke detector in the kitchen went off about four in the morning.”
“Was your family all in bed?”
Mr. Kotwoski’s eyes narrowed. “Of course. Where else would we be?”
“I’m just trying to ascertain where everyone was when a fire started in the early morning when there was no heat source nearby.”
Jamming his hands in his pockets, the homeowner scowled. “I don’t know why my house caught on fire! All I know is that my smoke detectors went off. My family could have died, and you’re talking to me like I should know what happened!”
A noise sounded in the garage, and Sean looked up to see Harper standing in the doorway, hair pulled back at the top and falling over her shoulders, a hard hat in her hand. Dark blue wool coat over navy pants. Her blue eyes met his, and a delicate blush covered her cheeks. Unable to keep the smile from his face, he stepped forward.
“I’m sorry. The homeowner called and wanted someone to come right away. I’ll come back,” she said, taking a step backward.
“No, no.” He rushed toward her. “Please, come on in.”
She stepped into the kitchen and he said, “Harper Walsh, this is my partner, Jonas Miller. Jonas, this is Harper. She’s a fire inspector for Eastern Mutual.” He lifted his hand toward the rumpled man, and added, “This is the homeowner, Brian Kotowski.”
She stepped forward, shaking his hand and said, “Mr. Kotowski, I’m from Eastern Mutual Insurance Company.”
“Thank God! I’m glad you got here so soon! When do you think we’ll be able to get our money for this? My family can’t live here in a burned house, so we’re going to need enough to have a place to stay.”
“My job is to collect fire evidence, Mr. Kotowski, after the police have finished. An adjuster and representative from Eastern Mutual will be here in just a little while to talk to you.” She glanced toward Sean who offered a slight smile and nodded.
Jonas interjected, “Mr. Kotowski, if you could take me to your family, I need to ask them some questions.” Scowling again, Brian walked out, Jonas right behind, leaving Sean in the charred r
oom with Harper.
“I’m sorry for the reason, but it’s nice to see you again,” he said. She smiled, and he was once again reminded why she stayed on his mind. Beautiful… abso-fuckin’lutely beautiful.
“It’s nice to see you again, too.”
“I understand you met my brother last night.”
Closing her eyes, she dropped her chin to her chest and shook her head. “Oh, dear. I had such a foot-in-mouth moment.” She lifted her head and met his gaze. “I swear I didn’t say anything bad about you, and I certainly didn’t blame you for this,” she said, waving her splinted wrist.
“I’m just teasing you. My brother said that you came to my defense when he started accusing me of breaking your arm.”
“He didn’t!” she exclaimed, eyes wide. “He couldn’t have blamed you for this!”
She lifted her hand, and he glanced at her scars again, curious but hoping she would one day tell him about the burn injury.
He shook his head. “Rory was just jerking my chain. Believe me, that happens a lot with my brother.”
She smiled, the blush on her cheek visible in the early morning light. She blinked and looked away, her gaze moving over the room. “I’ll wait here while you finish your investigation.”
Hating that their conversation had to turn professional, he knew she was right. “There’s no reason to leave. We can work together. I’d like to see what your thoughts are.”
She nodded, then turned and began walking around the kitchen, a handheld recorder close to her mouth. “There is a concentration of fire origin on the floor, close to the door that leads to the garage. When standing in the kitchen, the fire rose from the floor up to the ceiling. There doesn’t appear to be multiple points of origin, but the fire didn’t start from an electrical appliance or outlet.”
He was impressed with her grasp of fire dynamics. “That’s good. That’s exactly what I found.”
She turned, and he stepped back, allowing her gaze to sweep around the rest of the room as she continued to record. “The kitchen window is closed and there is no heat source in the room other than the vents for their heat pump.”
A Hope City Duet Page 30
