“That was nice of him.” Cassie nibbled on a cracker. “It struck me as probably a favorite stuffed animal given where I found it. Could you hand me an ice pack?”
Rachel opened the freezer. “Oh, Cassie.”
“I know; I’ve got a few.”
“Seven is more than a few.” Rachel retrieved one of the ice packs and brought it over, along with the first cup of coffee. “I can see how your hand is doing, what about your arms?”
“Not bad. Stiff.” She carefully settled the ice pack into her aching hand. She sipped the coffee as she watched Rachel fix breakfast for them both. She had to give Rachel credit. The odds she was here for more reasons than the one she had given were high, but she was starting with the practicalities. “Feel free to tell me the rest of it. Cole was there. I’ve got the feeling Jack wasn’t the only one who suggested you come by.”
Rachel pushed down bread in the toaster. “We need to talk. But we can do it while we eat.”
Cassie conceded the inevitable. Cole wanted more information about her suspicions of whom she had seen. Her hope she wouldn’t have to think again about the fire last night was unrealistic. At least Cole had sent someone who would ask the questions with some gentleness. “About Ash?”
Rachel looked over, her expression grave. “Jack.”
“Did you watch this one burn down too?”
Jack turned to face Gage. The insolent tone and the dig at him— there was no attempt to hide it. Jack wished the man would just take a swing at him.
Gage liked to use words and he was very effective with them. He had eviscerated Jack with the article he had written after the fire that had killed Tabitha. Jack figured he had that one coming, but in his world a fight finished the matter. Gage was never going to let it die.
Jack turned his attention back to the hose he was draining. “What do you want, Collier?” Since he decided on his own to see if there was any sign of Ash, Jack was in the doghouse with Cole. There hadn’t been, and Cole was annoyed both at his seeking out of a potential suspect and his delay in conveying what Cassie had said. Jack had accepted the rebuke. What he planned to do if Ash had been there was an interesting question that, looking back, Jack was glad he had not faced.
He was now being kept out of the burned-out house for the more serious cleanup. Jack thought it was childish on Cole’s part, but he wasn’t in a place to complain. It was a crime scene now. He didn’t mind the basic tasks of cleanup—the heavy lifting and constant bending— but the wet gloves made him clumsy as he worked, and with an audience Jack found that annoying.
Gage set his foot on the bumper of the rescue squad. “Lincoln Park, Ash Street, the Assley fire…”
Jack forced himself not to react as Gage started naming off the locations of suspicious fires over the last several weeks. He was braced to be asked how many more fires there had been. Cole would kill him if he said anything to a reporter.
“Rachel is worried about you.”
Jack rapped his knuckles on the concrete as the wrench he was using to loosen the hose connector slipped. In one short sentence Gage could shake him up.
Rachel, worried about him and talking about it to Gage.… This he did not need. “I’ll speak to her.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Getting tired of hearing my name?”
Jack caught a glimmer of a smile as Gage lowered his foot, then turned to leave. “I only use inside sources when I can’t find a direct one.”
Jack silently apologized for his assumption that Gage had been prying at Rachel to get details about the fires. “Talk to Cole.”
“Already have,” Gage replied. “He was unusually chatty today too.”
Jack narrowed his eyes. Cole had voluntarily spoken with a reporter? That was not like him at all.
Being somewhat out of the loop went with being in the doghouse, but not being shut out of something newsworthy. Rachel had been at the scene. Jack started worrying again about why. He had taken her answer that she had come looking for him at face value, and he should have realized a phone call would have answered his page to her.
Rachel had been here. Now Gage showed up. Something was going on Jack didn’t know about.
Gage stopped, then looked back. “By the way, where is Rachel?”
Jack would prefer to keep Cassie’s name out of the equation, but Gage could get an answer with just a page to his sister. “Cassie’s.”
“Really? Brave lady to go into a house fire after what happened at the nursing home.”
Jack heard the reality of Gage seeking out Cassie, knew it was inevitable. Other news organizations would have found her by now. Add going into another fire with her history and it was a good human interest story, something reporters craved around the holidays. “Gage, be kind.”
Gage took offense at the veiled threat, but then Jack had intended him too. If Gage stung Cassie in a tough interview, Jack was going to return the favor. Someone had to protect her and he’d just elected himself. Jack set aside what he was doing to stand and face the man.
“Something between the two of you?”
Jack went to the heart of the matter. “She’s one of us.”
Gage finally nodded. “Fair enough.”
“The arsonist wrote the word murderer. “ Cassie felt cold just saying the word.
Across the kitchen table, Rachel circled her coffee mug around her napkin. “Red spray paint. Sweeping letters. He spent some time in the room before he torched it.”
Cassie pushed aside the plate that held her toast and reached for the crackers again. The nausea was back with a vengeance.
“Cole thought it was important for you to know.”
Not only that, but that he needed to send Rachel over rather than wait until he could come later—it was an extraordinary step. Whoever she had seen at the fire was that angry.… Cassie forced aside the implications. “You said we needed to talk about Jack.”
“Have you ever known Cole to be afraid?”
“No.”
“He is now.” Rachel’s hand shook slightly as she lifted her coffee cup.
The arsonist was clearly dangerous, he was escalating, and Jack had fought the six fires.… Cassie froze. “Jack—he’s the common factor to the fires.”
“Who did you see, Cassie?”
She wished she could answer that question. The truth was painful. “I honestly don’t know.”
Eleven
Cole, I want back in.”
Cassie closed his office door, shutting out the startled looks of the inspectors, arson investigators, and firefighters she’d surprised as she came striding through the building. She had rushed the words before she lost her nerve to say them.
Rachel had driven her over to the fire scene, where they had just missed Cole. Cassie had been forced to follow him here to the fire district offices. She had passed Jack in the equipment bay replacing air tanks aboard Engine 81. She had not stopped to answer his questions, leaving that to Rachel. Cassie was on a mission.
Cole was in the process of taking off his fire boots, had rolled out a thick sheet of plastic to keep the ash off his carpet. He’d been up all night, but other than looking a little more grim than she remembered, he didn’t show it.
Eight hours ago she had left this office relieved to get out of it, and now she was closing herself back in. She was crazy to be doing this. The tension in her gut was incredible. If she were smart she would turn around and leave. Cassie planted her feet and refused to let herself turn.
Cole looked at her in that inscrutable fashion of his. “Sit.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” He pointed to the chair.
She complied, staying on the edge of the seat. “You didn’t need to send a doctor to make a house call.”
“Cassie, if I’m hiring you again, I get to do whatever I like. Your hair’s wet.”
“Rachel helped me wash it.” She scowled at him for the distraction. “I want back in. So what do you need done? Na
me it. I want to help. You think Jack’s a target. We’ve got to do something.”
“Slow down.”
She got up to pace. “Your office makes me feel like I’m back in the principal’s office.”
“Spend a lot of time there, did you?”
“Cole—”
He held up his hand. “I didn’t say no. How’d you like the pumpkin pie?”
He took her enough by surprise she stopped to smile. “You made it.”
“Yes.”
“Not bad.”
“I miss having you take turns on K P. You still owe me a raspberry cobbler.”
“I’ll deliver eventually.”
“How’s the hand?”
Rachel had done a good job with the new bandage. In a week it would still be sore but would have begun to heal. That didn’t help today. “It hurts like crazy. Now can we talk?”
“If we have to.”
“We have to.”
He set aside his boots. “I sent Rachel because I figured you had a right to know.”
“I came close to seeing that spray painted word while it was still cooking into the plaster.”
“Be glad you didn’t. If you want in, you’re welcome. I need a spy.”
“No.”
“Listen.”
“No. It’s not Ash. I don’t care what I thought. It’s not him. And it’s not someone else from Company 65.”
“You’re talking to the former chief of Company 65. Now sit, and quit jumping to conclusions. I am not suspecting your partner…yet,” Cole growled.
She sat.
“Two grass fires, two trash fires, two empty houses, this last one with a message. Whoever this man is, he’s setting the fires with a great deal of thought. He’s got an escalation plan he’s implementing. And you may be our best chance of catching him.”
“I can’t give you a description, Cole. All I’ve got is an impression.”
“I understand that. What I need is someone who can roll out with Gold Shift and look for him. We know this guy is a watcher. Anyone who strikes you as a possibility, you let the police on the scene deal with it. What I need to know is if you can handle going back on shift.”
The hours would kill her. Twenty-four hours on, forty-eight off would be exhausting. But she’d do it if that was what had to be done. “Somehow.” She rubbed her eyes. “Murderer. He’s blaming the department for someone who died.”
“A car accident, a fire, a medical rollout that wasn’t able to make a difference. We know two things: He called the chairman of the fire district a murderer and he’s ringing fires around the boundaries of this district. That makes the focus of his anger the bureaucracy in this district.”
“And specifically Jack?”
“Gold Shift fought the first five fires. This fire Jack went on duty early and the arsonist hit again. I’ve got to conclude from that pattern that he’s targeting Gold Shift, specifically Jack, and take what precautions I can.”
Cole yanked open his desk drawer that had warped and stuck. He found a new roll of Lifesavers. “Maybe it’s because he’s got a problem with Jack. Maybe it’s the opposite. Jack is the best lieutenant we have. If you wanted to set fires and yet not hurt anyone, who would you ask to put them out?”
She was startled at the suggestion. “The man with the safest reputation.”
“Exactly.”
“He’s setting fires, yet you think he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.”
“I don’t know. This man puzzles me. The locations and times of the fires, how they are set—this arsonist is being very careful. That would suggest the guy has something driving him, an objective in mind. It just doesn’t ring true as a thrill seeker. The pattern to the fires suggests he will escalate until he finally gets whatever it is he’s after.”
“What does he want?”
“Rachel thinks he has already told us and is incredibly frustrated that no one is listening, so he’s setting fires to get attention. Rachel is also sure that he will start hurting people if he has to, which is why we’ve got to stop him very soon.”
“Jack doesn’t have enemies.”
“He’s got a few, but no one who strikes me as a firebug,” Cole corrected. “For a man to be setting fires out of frustration and anger, either he feels he has no voice or that his voice is not getting heard.”
“The guy I saw was confident, self-assured.”
“He thinks we’re not going to do what he wants and is trying to force it.”
“There will be another fire.”
Cole nodded. “And soon. Likely targeting Gold Shift. The problem is, accidents happen. Ask Jack to face so many fires and it’s not a matter of if he gets hurt, it’s when. Jack likes you, Cassie. Use it. Watch his back.”
She would have qualified his assumption about Jack’s interest if something more obvious had not just occurred to her. “You’re not going to tell him, are you?”
“Tell him what? About the word murderer? The fact this guy will probably strike harder next time? Cassie, you know Jack. Think about it.”
“He’d quit a job he loves if he thought he might be responsible for someone getting hurt in one of these fires.”
“Exactly.” Cole rubbed the back of his neck. “In this case, Jack’s habit for doing the noble thing is more of a headache than a help. You and I are going to make sure it doesn’t come to him even thinking about making that decision. You saw the guy. You’ll recognize him. And when you do, point him out to the cop on the scene and let us handle it.”
“How do I explain my presence to the guys on Gold Shift?”
“Since the department consolidation, we’re required to file an efficiency report every ninety days during the first year. You just became the captain’s scribe.”
“Paperwork.”
“You always did love it.”
“Like a case of the flu. I need to see the fire reports.”
“The red folder on the table. I already had the secretary print the reports for the suspicious fires. There are some items being kept silent regarding the arson methodology and signature; they’ve been blacked out in the reports.”
Cassie wasn’t surprised at that; ongoing investigations were always restricted. “How does he know when Jack is working?”
“He’s at least got inside access to information, which is why you and I are going to keep this low key. I’ll put you on the administrative payroll rather than add you to the duty payroll. You’ll do it?”
That decision had already been made at her kitchen table looking across at a worried Rachel. “When do I start?”
“A week give you enough time to figure out how to juggle your bookstore? Gold Shift will be on duty on Thursday. Consider yourself on rotation. Shift starts at 8 A.M.”
She groaned. He smiled. “Be here early.”
Twelve
Cassie paused the movie when the phone rang that night and struggled to sit up.
“Would you stay put and let me get it?” Jack protested, getting to his feet. He’d shown up after his shift got over, he said to check on her hand, but Cassie suspected it had a lot more to do with trying to figure out why she rushed over to see Cole earlier in the day.
He arrived with three videos and an offer to buy the pizza. Since she had been reading the fire reports Cole had given her, she was more than ready to set aside the work and accept unexpected company. She hadn’t realized what that meant. About the only thing Jack had let her do tonight was hold the TV remote—not that that was minor, but still…“It’s m y phone.”
“And you only know everyone in the state. I can say you are fine as well as you can. And you’ve talked to enough reporters for the day.” Jack put his hand on her forehead and pushed her head back on the pillow as he passed the couch. “Stay.”
“I’m not a puppy.”
“You act like it for all you listen.”
“Get me another piece of pizza while you’re up.”
“I didn’t come over to spoil you.”
“Sure you did.”
He answered the phone in the kitchen. “Cassie’s.”
It wasn’t fair that someone was starting fires and either out of anger or strategy was choosing Jack to put at risk. It must make him miserable to go to work knowing that the odds of a fire being set during his shift were high.
If Cole was right and the fires would likely escalate to put people in danger— In the passion of the moment she knew how high adrenaline surged. No firefighter wanted to back away when someone was trapped in a fire. Jack would take unreasonably high risks to try and rescue someone. Cole had warned her to stay on the sidelines no matter what fire they faced, and she knew that directive was going to be incredibly hard to follow.
Jack reappeared in the doorway. “Luke’s Linda. Want to chat?”
She held out her hand for the phone, amused at Jack’s way of placing her caller’s identity. Luke was the fire department’s volunteer chaplain and his wife Linda worked for her at the bookstore. Jack stretched the cord to its limit and handed it to her. She’d talked at length with Linda earlier in the day about the fire.
“Hi, Linda.” She glanced over at her guest disappearing back into the kitchen. “Oh yes, he’s enjoying himself. He’s bossing me around. But since he brought the movies I’m letting him stay. Did we have many customers at the store today?”
An object, which sounded like her phone book, hit the floor in the kitchen.
She covered the phone. “Drop something?”
“Deliberately,” Jack called back.
She laughed at that.
She turned her attention back to Linda. “I’ll be at the store tomorrow. I wanted to check and see if you could switch schedules with me for this next month.”
Jack reappeared a few minutes later in the doorway with a bowl of ice cream. He should be out on his feet from lack of sleep; instead he’d spent the last two hours sprawled on the living room floor laughing over the movie. He said he caught a nap that afternoon, and having worked the twenty-four-hour shifts for years, she knew he probably had. Still, she was surprised to find him so ready to spend an evening with her on the spur of the moment.
The Protector Page 10
