Burning for Autumn

by Freya Barker

  “I see why you didn’t object too hard to her coming. I was wondering about that.”

  “I’m just wondering now if that was a good idea. She’s hoping to get cleared by the doc on Monday. She should probably get out of here.”

  “Sophie!” Chief yells up the stairs. “You getting hungry yet?” To me he says, “I’ll see if I can get Sophie to convince her to let one of us take them home after lunch.”

  Lunch ends up being a couple of large pizzas. I make a quick call before joining the rest on the grass in the front yard, where the air is reasonably clean. Something tells me Autumn won’t be too hard to convince to call it a day. I notice she’s eating little, trying to breathe in deeply, and looking a little pale.

  “What was it you wanted from your neighbor’s place, Autumn?” Sophie asks after Chief spent some time whispering in her ear.

  Autumn

  “Any paperwork and maybe some photos. I don’t want his entire life to be tossed into a dumpster. Maybe he had friends who would like to come to his funeral, I won’t know until I have a look.”

  I was thinking about this yesterday. It seems so disrespectful, like tossing Joseph out with yesterday’s trash. Out of sight out of mind. I didn’t really know him, but from what little I do, he deserves better than that. At the very least, I want to honor him by learning what I can about his history, and maybe keep a little of his memory alive.

  The thought of spending hours more in that house is overwhelming though. I didn’t want to say anything, because everyone is here helping me, but I almost wish we could leave the rest for someone else to throw out. Every item disappearing into the dumpster holds some kind of memory for me, and it’s making the sense of loss weigh heavier on my chest.

  “Why don’t we box up what you want from there, and take it home, s-sort through it there? S-since the upstairs is basically packed up; we can leave the guys to haul it out. I could do with a s-shower too.”

  As soon as Sophie mentions a shower, I realize this can’t be easy for her either. Just the lingering smell of smoke can trigger bad memories, and my friend has her own traumatic fire experience.

  Feeling guilty, I easily agree.

  We head into my neighbor’s side of the house—all taking a room each—and within twenty minutes we have four large file boxes filled with albums, random papers, loose photos, and stacks of letters. Utility bills and bank statements we leave behind. That’s for Barnes to sort through. The rest the guys load up in Keith’s SUV.

  “I can drive,” I offer, when it looks like Keith is getting behind the wheel. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

  “I’ll just run you home,” he says. “I want to make sure you get in safely and grab a couple of beers for the guys.”

  “Okay.”

  I don’t bother arguing. I know something’s been on his mind since last night. He’s normally all about the close contact in bed, but last night he wrapped himself around me, his arms banding me tightly, and I was still anchored to him when I woke up this morning. Something happened to put those shadows in his eyes, and as much as I want to drag it out of him, I suspect Sophie and Roman being here is the reason he’s keeping it to himself. For now. Because come Sunday night, after our friends fly back home, I intend to get answers.

  When Keith parks the SUV next to Chief’s rental, it occurs to me how much of a home this place has become in this short time. It also reminds me that I should probably start looking for another place to rent for the remainder of my contract with Mercy.

  I’m hit with a stab of sadness at the thought of leaving this place—leaving Durango altogether—and wonder what it would look like if I were to decide to make a life in this town. A mental image forms, but right in the center of it is Keith.

  “I’ll get the boxes,” he says, breaking through my thoughts. “You guys, go ahead inside.”

  Gizmo greets us at the door, happy when Sophie scoops her up for snuggles.

  “Want me to put on a pot of coffee? Or would you rather have tea?” I ask, heading straight for the kitchen.

  “Coffee. I need the caffeine boost.”

  I put on a pot and quickly put the remaining breakfast dishes in the dishwasher when Sophie calls out.

  “Whose car is that?”

  “What?”

  “S-someone just pulled up.”

  I wipe my hands and join Sophie at the dining room window, just in time to see a petite blonde step from the vehicle and get folded into Keith’s arms for a hug.

  A sour burn starts churning in my stomach as I feel Sophie’s hand squeeze my arm. Jesus, jealousy is an ugly thing, I’m not used to it. Instinctively I know who this is—I don’t even need an introduction—but I’m not sure what she’s doing here.

  As I watch them walk up to the porch—Keith’s arm slung casually over the smaller woman’s shoulder—I mentally brace myself, putting on what I hope to God is a welcoming smile. Determined, I shake off Sophie’s hand and reach for the door, opening it wide.

  Keith takes one look at my face and I know, when he drops his arm from her shoulders, I haven’t been successful in masking my confused feelings. “I’d like you to meet—”

  “You must be—”

  “Luna,” we say simultaneously, making for an even more awkward moment.

  The composed woman, who by Keith’s description is a kick-ass FBI agent, nevertheless seems a little timid as she takes my proffered hand. “Nice to meet you, Autumn.”

  “Yes, of course. Me too. Nice to meet you as well, I mean.” Her contained words and carefully measured movements make me feel like an ungainly buffoon as I almost stumble over my words, and my feet, when I try to step out of her way.

  “I’m S-Sophie.” Poor Sophie is left to make her own introductions as I try to restore my composure. Keith watches me closely.

  “Luna was going to come help out at your place this afternoon, but since there’s not much left to be done there, I asked if she wouldn’t mind coming here instead.”

  “Awesome,” Sophie pipes up. “Autumn just m-made coffee, want to come grab a cup?” Without waiting for Luna’s answer, Sophie takes her arm and steers her into the kitchen, clearly giving Keith and me some space.

  Before I can open my mouth to ask why he invited her here, I find myself pressed against his chest, his mouth whispering in my hair. “Like a sister,” he mumbles, repeating what he told me before about his connection with the woman. “It would make me feel better to have her here while we finish up at the house. Please,” he adds when I don’t answer.

  “Something’s happened.” I’m not a fool. I already knew something was up, but the fact he doesn’t want to leave me unprotected only confirms it. “Another fire?”

  “No.” He pulls back and takes my face in his hands, leaning down so our noses touch. “Red, do you trust me?” I don’t even have to think; I just nod. When it comes to my safety, he may be the only person I trust. “Then hold off and know you’ve got nothing to worry about with Luna here until I get back. Focus on sorting through Mr. Bartik’s stuff, let me take care of your house for you, and tonight—when all that is done—I promise I’ll explain.”

  “I’m not a wilting flower, you know,” I bristle, feeling more than a little managed.

  “Well aware, Red, but this is not about you not being strong—it’s about me only able to handle so much at a time.” I look in his eyes and see a man weighed down by his responsibilities.

  I immediately feel guilty, not having considered the stress he is under, and lift my hands to his face. “Of course,” I agree easily, brushing my thumb over his tight lips, which immediately relax under my touch. “I can wait.”

  “Thank you, my love,” he murmurs, already lowering his mouth to mine. “We won’t be too long, and I’ll pick up some more beer and Chinese on the way.”

  “Okay.”

  “I put the boxes on the porch just outside the door, do you want me to bring them in?”

  “No, leave them out there. I don’t want to
stink up the whole house.”

  With a last peck on my lips he’s off, closing the door behind him. I walk over to the window, watching him get into his SUV, trying to slow my heart down, which is still beating a staccato from the unexpected endearment that slipped from his lips.

  It sounded really good.

  “Guys, I know I’ll probably need another one later, but I have to grab a quick s-shower. Wash this s-stink off m-me. I’ll be right back,” Sophie announces after we’ve collectively sorted through the first box.

  It’s been an interesting discovery so far, and I feel better having the beginnings of a timeline of Joseph’s life laid out in order on the dining table. I’m not exactly sure why this is so important to me. Perhaps because I could see myself end up like him: with no family, no kids, and no legacy to leave behind. Maybe a tad premature to be thinking like that, but the reality is, until a few weeks ago, I never expected more out of my life than what I had at the moment.

  My life has not nearly been as interesting as the old man’s, but I have the benefit of having half of it left to live. And I want to do just that—live it fully instead of safely coasting to the end.

  “About Keith and me—” Luna suddenly says when Sophie’s gone for her shower, catching me by surprise.

  “No need to explain,” I cut her off, not really wanting to address the elephant in the room, but she seems determined.

  “I think I do,” she gently insists. “I’d like to clear the air, since we’re bound to spend time around each other through him.” I’m not so sure how I feel about that comment, so I try not to examine it too closely. “It took me a long time to warm up to him when I was assigned to the La Plata office. You see, I met him once before, under rather traumatic circumstances, and along with bad memories, I had shoved him to the very recesses of my mind. Not that he was in any way the cause, in fact, he was more like my knight in shining armor, but I couldn’t help associating the trauma with him.” She shakes her head and stares off in the distance. Surprisingly I find myself drawn into the—albeit vague—picture she paints, so I patiently wait. Eventually she speaks again. “I was an absolute pain in the ass at first. Angry at him for reminding me of things I’d successfully buried over the years, angry at him for knowing. But you know what they say: once the seal is off… Anyway, I got some help processing the shit that bubbled up, and my relationship with Keith benefited.”

  “He says he’ll always be your protector,” I provide softly, internally trying hard not to imagine what exactly those benefits were.

  “I believe that,” she says, grabbing my hand unexpectedly. “But I want to assure you it’s purely platonic. He’s part of my family. The man is like a big brother to me.”

  “I realize he is now.”

  “No.” She shakes her head and averts her eyes. “That’s what he always was, and will always be. We’ve never had…I mean, I’ve never been…”

  “Intimate with him?” I probe carefully.

  “Not ever.”

  Chapter 24

  Autumn

  Dinner is a loud and rambunctious affair, and for the second time today, my thoughts drift to the possibility of making my stay in Durango permanent.

  It’s easy, when you’re surrounded by friends, who all seem to be having a good time, but things may look a bit different if I take Keith out of the equation. For one thing, I’d be sharing this meal with just Sophie, maybe Chief. What if I made the decision to stay, only to wake up one day to an empty bed and a single setting at my dining table?

  Durango is a fairly small place—contained, anyway—and everyone seems to know Keith. It would be difficult to sustain myself if things went south.

  “You’re thinking too hard,” the subject of my thoughts whispers in my ear.

  “There’s a lot to think about,” I fire back under my breath.

  “I should be heading out,” Luna announces, as she stands up from the table, looking back and forth between Keith and me. “I’m sure you guys are tired after today.”

  “Right,” Tony mumbles, tossing back the remainder of his beer, and collecting the empty plates from the table. “Give me a sec and I’ll walk out with you.” He disappears into the kitchen.

  Luna shakes her head. “He doesn’t give up,” she mumbles.

  “Barking up the wrong tree is a concept he hasn’t mastered yet,” Keith adds, grinning. “It’s that hot Latin blood.”

  “Well, he’d better learn fast, or that blood of his will be flowing,” she bites off, just as Tony walks back into the dining room.

  “Whose blood are we talking about?”

  The table collectively busts out laughing.

  Keith

  “There’s another note.”

  As soon as Ramirez chases after Luna out the door, we clear the rest of the table, but the women chase us out of the kitchen, clearly wanting a chance to chat by themselves. Keeping my voice down, I’ve been bringing Chief up-to-date on the case in the living room, when they walk in and sit down.

  With a nod from Chief, I drop that bomb.

  Autumn almost shoots out of the seat she just took beside me and I barely manage to pull her back down.

  “Where is it?”

  “At the lab. That’s why I was late last night.”

  “It was sent to you?”

  “Delivered to me is more like it.”

  “At the police station,” she concludes, incredulously.

  “The parking lot anyway. Ballsy, but stupid.” I pull out my phone and show her the first picture, and she squints to read it.

  “Are you kidding me?” she blurts out, sitting up straight. “Is he threatening you?” I almost chuckle at the indignant tone in her voice, but manage to rein it in.

  “What does it s-say?” Sophie wants to know and listens as I read the message out loud for her. “In his dreams,” she snaps, before turning to her husband. “We’re s-staying.”

  “We’re not,” he replies calmly. “Keith has it covered. Besides, we both have to work on Monday.”

  Yeah, thanks. I needed that pressure. The truth is, I have painfully little covered.

  “I can’t believe you!” Apparently Sophie isn’t going down easy, and it sounds like we’re on the verge of a domestic blowup in my living room. “That’s m-my best friend you’re talking about.”

  “Listen, you know I love Autumn like—”

  “No, I’m done listening. I listened to you last week and wasn’t there for her when s-she was in the hospital. I worried m-myself s-sick, and now you want m-me to leave when s-she has a crazy person after her?”

  “You should.” The gentle suggestion comes from Autumn, who has been very quiet after her own initial outburst, and instantly quiets Sophie.

  “But—” Her barely there protest goes unheard.

  “Do you think,” Autumn grabs Sophie’s arm none too gently, “that after already carrying the weight of a kind old man dying, because he happened to be my neighbor, I want to take the risk of anything happening to either of you? It’s bad enough I seem to have put Keith square in his sights, I’ll be damned if I drag you into it too.”

  Her face flushed, she gets up off the couch.

  “Wait,” Sophie calls out. “I didn’t m-mean—”

  But Autumn is already on the move. She’s not mad, she’s about to cry and probably doesn’t want anyone to see. Her friend is out of her seat, ready to go after her, but her husband holds her back. “Keith’s got this honey,” he repeats before giving me a nod.

  Taking the younger man’s sign—he is after all the more experienced one in love matters—I scoop up Jack from the back of the couch, and follow Autumn into the bedroom.

  She’s fully clothed, rolled up on her side, with her back toward the door. I carefully lean over the bed and set Jack on the mattress in front of her. Then I go into the bathroom, grab the box of tissues and wet a washcloth with cold water, and set them on the nightstand before crawling into bed behind her.

  I loosely drape my
arm around her waist so she knows I’m there, and wait for her to come to me. I hate I was the one to rip that last thread of resolve she was holding onto all day with my announcement. But I’d promised her—asked her to trust me—there wasn’t a choice. Besides, I remember my mother telling me once when I’d found her in tears, crying wasn’t a sign of weakness, but simply a much-needed release when the pressure gets too high.

  I hope letting her cry without interruption helps her, because every sob from her body is like a hot dagger in mine.

  Finally, I feel her hand find mine, and she pulls my arm tighter around her as she scoots her body back, looking for mine.

  “I hate this,” she says, sounding congested.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t you be sorry, that should be my line,” she says, suddenly rolling over. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt. Especially not you. What if he—”

  “He won’t.” I tuck her into my body. “I told you, he was ballsy but stupid. One of our parking lot cameras picked him up sticking the note on my car. I have a still. It’s not a great quality, but at least I have a better idea who to look for.”

  “Can I see?”

  “Like I said, it’s pretty grainy.” I pull my phone from my pocket and find the image. Autumn takes it from my hand and looks at it.

  “I don’t recognize him.” With her fingers sliding on the screen, she zooms in on the picture.

  “His face is mostly obscured by the ball cap.”

  “That’s not a ball cap. That’s a trucker hat.”

  “Is there a difference?”

  “Sure is,” she says pointing at the screen. “Trucker hats are mostly mesh with a single fabric panel on the front. Usually with some kind of logo. They look almost boxy compared to ball caps.” She squints and peers closer. “This one has a logo, I just can’t make out what.”

  “Let me see?” I take the phone from her hand and try to decipher the blur myself, without success. “I should send this to Luna. She works with a guy who’s a tech wiz. Maybe he can do something about the quality.”