Rescue Me

by N. J. Walters

  Her mouth was dry. No matter how much water she sipped it felt as though she hadn’t had anything to drink in days. Her hand shook when she returned the glass to the table.

  Martha knew she was still in shock, not only from the fire but also from seeing Frank Ellis for the first time in almost twenty years. She still couldn’t believe it was really him. That he’d been the one to pull her from the fiery blaze.

  God, they’d been so young and in love. She sighed and pulled the blanket higher around her, suddenly chilled to the bone. She’d loved him from the moment she’d set eyes on him on that first day of high school.

  He was big, even back then. Already almost six feet tall and still growing. She’d been a young, naïve fifteen-year-old scared to death at being in a new school. Their eyes had met and, like a made-for-television movie, he’d walked toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. He’d introduced himself. She’d been too tongue-tied to say much, assuming he must have been a senior.

  He’d been her age, just fifteen, but already more mature than the other boys in their class. They’d been inseparable from that day forward. Four years they’d dated. He was her first real boyfriend, the first man she’d ever slept with.

  Martha turned her head toward the window and stared out at the lights beyond. Darkness wrapped itself around the city but it was never really dark or still. There was too much life, too many people.

  A sharp rap on the door made her turn toward it. Her heart skipped a beat. Was it Frank? He’d promised he’d come see her but that was hours and hours ago. Still, she felt a surge of anticipation as the faux wood panel pushed inward.

  Her hopes were dashed when two official-looking men stepped inside. They were both tall. One of them had dark brown hair, the other had blonde. Both of them looked tough.

  “Miss Benson?”

  She nodded. “Who—” Martha broke off and swallowed, her throat too dry for her to talk. She reached for her glass of water, took a sip and tried again. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Jacob Burke and this is my partner, Mark Devlin.” He held up a leather case that held official-looking identification of some sort. She squinted to see it better. “We’re investigating the fire.”

  She nodded again because she didn’t know what else to do. She wanted to avoid any unnecessary talking. As if understanding her predicament, the dark-haired man, the one who’d introduced himself as Jacob Burke, pulled up a chair and sat alongside her bed. His partner leaned against the wall.

  “What can you tell us about this afternoon?” Burke’s intensity was palpable. He was too close. She didn’t like it and inched back in the bed.

  “I don’t remember much.” It all seemed like a blur, a bad dream.

  “Anything you can tell us would be helpful,” Devlin told her.

  She glanced at him. He might seem more relaxed but he was just as intense. She was used to studying people and things. As an artist, she looked beyond the surface to what was beneath. “The fire wasn’t an accident, was it?”

  Burke’s dark eyes narrowed. “Why would you say that?” She heard the suspicion beneath his words and shivered. She tugged at the blanket, wishing she had a warmer one. “Miss Benson, what do you know?” Accusation was there now. She was confused and her entire body ached.

  Why was he asking her these questions? She was the one who’d lost everything.

  “What the hell are you doing?” The voice was strong and edged with anger. Her gaze flew to the man who filled the doorway with his larger-than-life presence.

  He’d showered. That was her first thought. Frank’s hair was still damp and was raked away from his forehead, framing the harsh planes of his face. The seams of his white T-shirt strained against his broad shoulders and massive biceps. The stretchy fabric clung to his torso, outlining his wide chest and taut abs. He wore jeans, filling them out to perfection. The man wasn’t classically handsome but exuded a primitive appeal that made her heart stutter and butterflies dance in her stomach.

  She’d known his body intimately when they were both eighteen, but he was older now, stronger. A man and not a boy any longer. She might not know the man he’d become, he might have left her without a word after their last day of high school, but a part of her still trusted him.

  Martha reacted purely on instinct and reached out to him. Frank strode forward, ignoring the other men as he made his way to her. He was big and capable and she desperately needed someone to lean on, if only for a few hours. Just to help her get through the coming interrogation. She was used to standing on her own two feet and knew she couldn’t depend on Frank to stick around. She’d be fine after a good night’s sleep, but right now she was still shaky from the fire.

  He skirted the end of the bed and came around to the far side. He reached down and clasped her hand in his. His skin was darker than hers, tanned and rough from years of physical work. “How are you feeling, honey?”

  She saw Burke raise his eyebrow at the term of endearment. “What are you doing here, Ellis? We need to talk to Miss Benson.”

  “So talk.” Frank met the other man’s gaze. Martha could practically hear the overabundance of testosterone crackling in the air.

  “You rescued her from the fire, didn’t you?” This time it was Devlin who spoke.

  Frank nodded and his fingers tightened around hers.

  Burke sighed. “Look, Ellis, that’s all fine and good, but we still need to talk with Miss Benson.”

  Frank glanced down at her. “You feel up to talking with them, Martha?”

  She nodded. The quicker she got this over with the better.

  Burke took a notebook out of his pocket. “This is highly irregular, Ellis.”

  “I don’t care.” Frank stood next to her bedside like a sentinel, ready to protect her. No, that wasn’t right. He was here because he was an old friend, nothing more. She needed to remember that.

  Devlin took over the conversation. “Why did you say the fire wasn’t an accident?” he asked her.

  She waved at both of them. “Because you’re both tense.”

  The investigator frowned at her. “That the only reason?”

  Martha nodded. She glanced at Frank and found him frowning as well. “What do you remember?” Frank asked her.

  She focused on him instead of the investigators. No hardship there. She’d always thought Frank the most handsome man in the world. It was strange to realize that one failed marriage and nearly two decades later she still felt the same way.

  “I was working.”

  Burke consulted his notebook. “You’re an artist?”

  Before she could confirm that, a huge smile broke across Frank’s face. It was like someone lifted a curtain from in front of her face, or maybe the shock of the fire and being rescued by her old boyfriend finally dropped away. Whatever the reason, she was suddenly very aware of Frank, not as an old boyfriend or her rescuer, but as a man.

  Hormones that had lain dormant since her divorce two years ago suddenly surged to life. Not now. She didn’t need this. But her body wasn’t listening to her brain.

  Her nipples tightened and she hugged the blanket tighter to her chest. This wasn’t fair, not at all. It had taken her years to get over Frank’s abandonment, to trust another man enough to marry him. In the end, her ex had betrayed her too.

  What was it with her and her taste in men?

  “You did it.” Frank brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. His lips were warm and firm and all the nerve endings in her skin tingled like they were electrified. “You really did it.” There was joy and pride in his gaze.

  “I’m sensing you two know each other.” Burke’s dry comment made Frank chuckle.

  “You’re a hell of an investigator, Burke.” Frank lowered her hand but didn’t release it. “Martha and I dated all through high school.”

  Devlin let out a low whistle. “You knew she was inside the building when you got there today?”

  Frank shook his head. “No. We hadn’t seen one an
other since the last day of high school.”

  “That must have been a hell of a shock.” Devlin glanced from Frank to her. “What do you remember about today, Miss Benson?”

  Okay, she could do this. The quicker it was done, the sooner she could put the entire incident behind her. Frank would disappear from her life again, she’d find a new place to live and start working again.

  Her work. She’d lost several pieces in the blaze. Thankfully, the delivery company she’d hired had transported all the pieces for her showing at the gallery a few days ago. That was something to be thankful for.

  “I was working. My spare room is my studio. Was my studio,” she corrected. It was hard to believe it was all gone. She swallowed hard, and Frank picked up her glass in his free hand and brought it to her lips. She took a sip and let the cool liquid soothe her parched mouth. When she nodded that she’d had enough, he returned the glass to the table.

  She frowned. “I thought I heard someone at the door but I wasn’t sure. I was listening to music while I worked. I use earbuds so the noise doesn’t bother the neighbors.”

  “Go on,” Burke told her. He leaned back in the chair and crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. He looked more relaxed now but she wasn’t fooled. The tension was palpable around him.

  “I went to check the door but it was closed and locked. And I didn’t see anyone when I looked out the peephole.” She shrugged and nibbled her bottom lip.

  “What is it?” Frank asked.

  “Even though there was no one there, it felt like someone had been. You know what I mean?”

  Frank nodded. “I do.”

  “I turned to go back to my studio and that’s all I remember until I woke up and found the apartment filled with smoke.” She wasn’t sure they’d believe her. It sounded crazy when she said it aloud.

  “Do you have a head injury?” Devlin asked.

  “Slight concussion. I must have hit my head on something when I was crawling around my apartment. At least that’s what the doctor thinks.” The two investigators shared a look that had her stomach tightening. “What is it?” They obviously knew more than they were telling her.

  “Why didn’t you go to the bedroom and open the window or head for the fire exit?” Burke asked.

  Martha shook her head and immediately regretted the action when it began to throb. She rubbed her forehead and tried to think. “I’m not sure. I was dazed.” She remembered the crackle of the fire. “I couldn’t get to the front door. The living room was in flames. So was the bedroom. The bathroom was my only choice.”

  It had all happened so fast. The heat had been suffocating and the flames had terrified her. “I crawled into the tub and ran as much water as I could onto a couple of towels. I stuffed one under the door and covered my head with the other. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Both investigators glanced at Frank and he confirmed what she told them. “The door and living room were fully engaged. Martha was lying in the tub with a towel over her head.”

  Frank pinned Burke with his steely gaze. Martha recognized that expression all too well. Frank was pissed off. “Now, tell me what you know.”

  What was Frank talking about?

  “You know we can’t do that,” Devlin began.

  “Fuck that.” Frank didn’t yell. He didn’t have to. His voice grew lower and even deeper. There was no mistaking his anger. “You think this fire was deliberately set and you think Martha was the target, don’t you?”

  She thought she might be sick when she saw the flicker of recognition in Devlin’s eyes. Martha couldn’t breathe. She tried to suck air into her lungs but couldn’t. Harsh gasps broke from her lips. Her heart monitor began to beep faster.

  Frank swore and helped her sit more upright. “I’ve got you,” he assured her.

  Tiny flames seemed to dance in his eyes. Now she was being fanciful. It was the same as when he’d rescued her and she’d imagined him controlling the flames with his hands. The concussion and mild smoke inhalation were wreaking havoc with her body and mind.

  She kept her gaze on Frank and followed his instructions as he told her to take a long slow breath and then another. A nurse pushed into the room and came to an abrupt halt.

  “What are you all doing in here? My patient is supposed to be resting.”

  “Fire investigators, ma’am,” Burke told her as he stood.

  “I don’t care who you are.” She hurried over to Martha’s bedside and her tone changed immediately. “You’re okay. Just relax.” She reached to the side of the bed and pulled up a portable oxygen machine and slipped the mask over Martha’s face. “You just breathe for a couple of minutes. Okay?”

  The nurse, who’s ID tag read Amy Adkins, glared at the men. “You’ll have to leave. Now. I can’t have you upsetting my patient any more than you already have.”

  Burke nodded. “That’s it for now, but we’ll be talking with you again,” he told her. Martha nodded and continued to breathe, feeling almost light-headed.

  Frank went to leave and she almost panicked. She must have made some sound because he was suddenly leaning down to reassure her. “I’m only going out to the hall to talk with them a second. I’ll be right back.”

  He looked at the nurse for confirmation. The woman turned to Martha. “You okay with him being here?”

  Martha nodded. Maybe it was weak on her part but she wanted Frank to stay. She wasn’t only hurt now, but scared. The fire had been deliberately set and she was the target.

  Frank kissed her forehead. “Be right back.”

  She watched him go and had to beat back the panic that threatened to consume her when the door closed behind him. She was strong, she reminded herself. But this was much bigger than anything she’d ever had to handle in her life. This wasn’t about getting over a broken heart or even recovering from a fire. No, this was about someone trying to kill her.

  • • •

  Frank kept one eye on Martha’s hospital room door and the other on Burke and Devlin. He knew them both by reputation and had dealt with them a few times over the years. They were good and they were tenacious.

  “What do you know?” Frank didn’t have time for games. Martha needed him. He ignored the niggling little voice that warned she might have a boyfriend who just hadn’t been contacted yet. She might not need him at all.

  Flames surged inside him and he struggled to corral them before he did something stupid like burst into flames in the middle of a hospital.

  The two men shared a look and then Devlin spoke. “This is the fourth fire in the past year. Different cities. Different women. Same pattern. Most investigators wouldn’t have caught it, but I make a habit of studying arson cases all across the country in my spare time. Burke agrees with my assessment.”

  “Fuck.” Frank raked his fingers through his hair. “The other women?”

  “Two dead, one with severe burns,” Burke told him. “The first two victims had told friends that they had a secret admirer, someone who left small gifts. The third woman had gone to the police saying she was being stalked.”

  Frank clamped down on his emotions. “Do the women have anything in common?”

  “That’s the problem.” Devlin scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “None of the investigating officers can come up with one, not yet at any rate. We’re the only ones who think the fires might be related, but we’ve convinced the cops to investigate the possibility. We’re on the fire angle and the cops are taking other avenues. The scene hasn’t cooled enough for us to have a look yet but Chief Riley told us what you’d said to him, that it looked deliberate. Given the fact that a single woman was working at home, just like the other victims, we strongly believe it’s the same guy. We’ve already told the detectives our suspicions. They’re talking to their counterparts in Detroit, St. Louis, and New York about the other cases.”

  “Martha’s not safe.” That was Frank’s biggest concern.

  “Honestly,” Burke told him, “we don’t know. The guy might b
e content with the fire or he might be pissed she didn’t die or wasn’t at least severely injured. We don’t know if this is more about the fire or the women he harms. We’re not even one hundred percent sure this was nothing more than a terrible accident. Right now it’s all speculation until we can get in there and really start looking.”

  “I’m taking her home with me as soon as the hospital will release her.” Frank made the split-second decision. All his instincts were screaming at him to protect Martha at all costs.

  “Okay.” Burke glanced at his partner. “We’ll keep that to ourselves.” He studied the closed door. “You really dated her back in high school?”

  “Yeah.” It was more than that, a lot more. They’d been connected in a way he’d never experienced before or since. Martha had been a part of him and leaving her had been like severing a piece of himself. The only way he’d been able to do it was by assuring himself it was to keep her safe.

  All those years of sacrifice and she was in danger anyway from the very thing he’d tried to protect her from—fire. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

  The door opened and the nurse stepped out. She glared at the investigators but smiled at Frank. “I removed the oxygen again. She’s settled down and is resting.”

  “Thank you,” he told her.

  “She’s been through a lot and needs to rest.”

  “When can I take her home?”

  The nurse frowned at Frank. “Not until the morning, for sure.”

  “I’ll be here all night.”

  Nurse Adkins was a sharp lady and proved it with her next statement. “She’s in danger, isn’t she?”

  “We’re not sure,” Burke said. “But we don’t want to take any chances.” He turned to Frank. “I’ll contact the police and get a guard on her door within the hour.”

  “I can call security,” the nurse offered. “They can send someone up until the police get here.”

  “That works.” Burke took out his card and handed it to Frank. “If Miss Benson remembers anything else, call us.”