Once Upon a Holiday

by Beverly Jenkins

  “Yeah, we’re en route to his place now.”

  “What’s his story?”

  “Profit pyro only. The days leading up to Halloween are his money-makers.”

  “Taking advantage of the whole Devil’s Night-Angel’s Night thing, I’m assuming.”

  He nodded. “People across the country think all Detroiters do on Halloween is burn down the city. What the media doesn’t say is that this madness began when absentee landlords started paying people like Sally to set the fires. No sense in fixing up your property when you can torch it and make a profit instead.”

  “I know. I’ve explained that to non-Detroiters, too. Usually gives them a whole new perspective on what’s really going on. When I was growing up here, Devil’s Night was for mischief—knocking over trash cans, soaping car windows. These fires are relatively new.”

  “Yeah. The city changed the name to Angel’s Night as a nod to all the volunteers who keep an eye on the abandoned homes in their neighborhoods and spend the nights leading up to Halloween riding around in their cars looking for trouble spots.”

  “I hear they’ve made a difference.”

  “Absolutely. Be a lost war without them.”

  He gave Eve the impression of being passionate about his work and his city. He was also a good-looking man, she noted. Not that it mattered to the job. She glanced at his strong hands on the steering wheel. No ring. With the long leather coat and cowboy boots he looked like a throwback to the old West. She bet the women he worked with were happy to see him walk into work every morning. Even though he was handsome, he was no match for her centurion, though. Then again, no man in her future ever would be. Refocusing herself, she asked, “Where’s this Sally live?”

  He slowed to a stop in front of a two-family flat. The windows were boarded up with plywood. “Apparently not here anymore,” he responded wryly. He got on the phone. Dispatch told him that Sally Riggins was locked up for violating parole and was currently housed in Dickerson, one of the county lockups. He thanked the clerk and ended the call. After relating the info to his partner he added, “So much for that.”

  “How long has he been in custody?”

  “Five days, which means he wasn’t involved.” He ran his hand over his weary eyes. “How ’bout we call it a day? Not much more we can do until we get inside in the morning.”

  She agreed. “You can drop me back at the fed house. My car’s in the lot.”

  “I’d ask you if you wanted to grab some dinner but you’ve put enough holes in my hide for one day, so I’m taking myself home.”

  “You look pretty tough to me, Palmer. You can take it.”

  He heard the amusement in her voice so he took it in good spirit. “We’ll see.”

  He drove her to the parking lot and waited while she walked over and got into her car. The nondescript, dark blue Ford called little attention to itself, a plus in a rough-and-tumble place like Detroit. The thoughts brought Crenshaw’s carjacking to mind and Leyton made a mental note to check the files in the morning. But if the detectives had no leads, he held out little hope of finding it. By now, a fancy car like that had more than likely disappeared down the rabbit hole into the city’s underground world of chop shops or been driven out of state for an illegal sale. As Crenshaw stated, he’d been trying to help, but apparently no good deed went unpunished.

  Clark drove past him. She gave him a nod and headed off. Leyton put in a Miles CD and did the same.

  Eve’s aunt and uncle were out at the movies when she got to the house, but there was food waiting for her on the stove and plenty of hot water in the tank for the long shower she took after her meal. After that, it was a short walk to the bed in the bedroom she and her cousin Shelly once shared. Back then her still growing body had almost fit the twin bed. But now, at her height, it didn’t fit at all, and she wondered if she’d be on the case long enough to have to make a decision about buying a bigger bed for the room. Putting that off for now, she lay in the darkness and let her weariness take hold. What a day. Twenty-four hours ago, she’d been in full costume and getting ready for the night of her life with a man whose presence had quietly stalked her all day. Only now did she allow herself to think back to his kisses and the hot lust that had filled them both. She replayed the hard slide of him entering her and how good it had felt. The remembrance of how he’d toyed with her breasts and his fingers between her thighs soon had her nipples hard and her body craving more. There wouldn’t be more, though. He’d returned to his world just as she’d stepped back into her own. In a way, it left her sad, but the memory of their night together would be something she’d have forever and that had to be consolation enough.

  Leyton lay in bed, and for the first time that day gave his mind permission to dwell on last night’s interlude. Where was she? It was a question he’d asked himself a hundred times or more over the course of the day, or so it seemed. Who was she? Yet another unanswered question. It left him frustrated. He would have liked to have been with her longer—not just in bed. He got the impression that they might have connected on a personal level as well as the physical had time not been a factor.

  So there he lay, reliving the weight of her soft breasts against his palms, the taste of her kiss and the soft sounds of pleasure she’d given when his manhood slowly entered her warmth. The lusty memories made him hard, and that left him frustrated as well, so he decided to try sleep. It took awhile.

  Chapter 5

  The morning’s briefing was scheduled for eight in the conference room where they’d met yesterday. Wearing her shades and dressed in ATF gear, Eve arrived at seven-thirty. Only a few people were inside. Palmer was one. He was standing at the white chalkboard and drawing a large rectangle that she guessed represented the Morgan Grocery complex. At her entrance he looked up and stopped. “Morning, Clark.”

  She liked his smile. “Morning, Captain.”

  “Coffee in the back if you want it.”

  “Thanks.”

  For a moment he didn’t move and neither did she. Something unspoken flowed between them before he broke the connection and returned to his drawing. She mentally shook off whatever it had been and grabbed her coffee. After greeting the other people in the room, she took a seat on one of the folding chairs. Slowly sipping the steaming brew, she watched Palmer work. He was sectioning off the rectangle into four compartments and numbering them one to four. Today he was wearing an army green T-shirt under a short black leather jacket that was as beat-up as the long coat he’d worn yesterday. The jeans framing his hips and thighs had seen better days, too, but she liked the view. The face wasn’t half bad either with its strong lines and nice lips. She’d dressed for warmth. Her gray turtleneck was topped by a burgundy hoodie with ATF emblazoned across the front. Layered over that was a heavy insulated parka. They were going to be working in a burned-out, unheated building that was open to the elements. Only a few days before at her aunt’s birthday party, the weather had been warm and reminiscent of early September, but today the temperature was struggling to reach forty; November had arrived and it was alive and kicking.

  The meeting began promptly at eight with reports from the teams. Each had been given specific assignments ranging from questioning witnesses to taking pictures of the site, to making arrangements with federal and state crime labs to handle any evidence that might be found. McBride, the young ATF agent, gave his report on the logistics and the canines that would be a part of the day’s team. Earlier, during Eve’s commute from the east side and his from suburbia, they’d had a brief phone conversation on how their agency might assist the investigation. The feds had more resources and money at their disposal than the locals to pay for necessary backup items such as canine support and forensics, and because the Morgan complex was a commercial enterprise and dealt in consumer goods that had crossed state lines, the fire fell well within ATF’s jurisdiction, thus qualifying the investigation for federal assistance.

  Once the reports were heard and photos of the site passe
d around, Palmer drew everyone’s attention to his drawing on the board. He designated which teams would take each segment, and when everyone was clear as to their roles, he had two things to add. “For now, this fire is on the books as suspicious. If after the investigation it proves to be arson, the parent company of Morgan Foods will be offering a fifteen-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to an arrest and conviction.”

  Eve nodded approvingly.

  “Secondly, the engineering crews have shored up the buildings and they’ve run lights inside. It’s going to be cold, but that’ll be no excuse for hurried or shoddy work. I’d like for us to have an official determination as soon as possible. Any questions?”

  No one had any, so they gathered up their gear and filed out of the room to begin the day.

  On the drive, Eve found herself sneaking looks at him. Although he’d initially impressed her as being laid-back, he had a commanding way about him as well. At the meeting, he’d been in control without acting as if he wanted everyone else to know it. She’d worked cases in the past where the inflated egos of some of the lead investigators made it hard to get the job done. Not so this time. He hadn’t belittled anyone’s efforts or treated them as if they were working for him. All he seemed concerned with was getting the work done as efficiently and as thoroughly as possible, and she appreciated that. “Did we get anything back on the developer?” she asked.

  “Yes, the preliminary report says Brandywine Construction is legit, no red flags. We still need to talk to him about any threats he may have received.”

  Eve agreed. “Did you look into Crenshaw’s car?”

  “Talked to the detectives this morning, and so far they have nothing, except that he was pretty abusive to the uniforms that showed up after he was jacked.”

  “How did I already know that?”

  “Yeah, and, according to the report, he was reeking of urine when they arrived at the scene.”

  “Urine?” She puzzled over that for a moment, then turned to him in surprise. “He wet himself?”

  “Apparently the carjackers scared him so bad, he wet his pants.”

  “That probably only added to how pissed he was. Pun intended.”

  He turned her way. “So, you do have a sense of humor?”

  “Why would you think I wouldn’t?”

  “You’re so stern and stoic.”

  “Thanks.”

  He smiled. “There’s a lot more to you than you let people see, isn’t there?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose, but all the job wants are results.”

  “True, but why the big bad shield?”

  “Makes for less drama.”

  “Meaning?”

  “There aren’t that many women in the agency. Most do a kick-ass job and most have had to deal with drama coming up. Whether it’s the men who want to hit on you, or the ones who think you’re incompetent because you don’t carry a penis in your pants. Luckily, things have gotten better. But you learn not to let your guard down.”

  “Just in case?”

  “Yeah. Just in case.”

  “Makes sense. Thanks for explaining.”

  “Thanks for asking and thanks for not giving me any of the above.”

  “You’re welcome. So if I ask are you’re married, would you be offended?”

  “Not as long as I can ask you the same thing.”

  “I’m divorced. You?”

  “Single all my life. How long were you married?”

  “About five years. Just long enough for Angie to figure out she should’ve married someone else.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what the job is like—long hours, getting called in the middle of the night. Missing anniversaries, birthdays, because some joker set a warehouse on fire. She got tired of me not coming home when I said I would.”

  “Any kids?”

  “One. A daughter. Kia. She’s eight.”

  “Do you get to see her?”

  “Yep. Angie’s good about making sure Kia and I stay connected. Her mom and I are much better apart than we ever were together. She’s remarried. Name’s Oliver. He’s a pretty good guy.”

  “Most men don’t usually sing the praises of their ex or the new husband.”

  “I’m not most men.”

  “I’m starting to see that.”

  “Good.” He looked her way and for a beat of a moment silence filled the car, and she felt the tingle of attraction slide through her blood.

  “So, why’re you single?” he asked.

  “Take your list of why you and your ex split, and add the men I meet not being able to handle me being me. Can’t seem to hook up with anyone who wants the brain that comes with the body. My last relationship crashed because he couldn’t deal with what I do and because I wouldn’t quit and get a more female job.”

  “Female job?”

  “His words. Wanted a more traditional woman, I guess. Dinner on the table. Shirts ironed and ready, that kind of thing.”

  “Not you.”

  “Nope, so that was that.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

  They pulled into the parking lot of the site. He cut the engine. “We’re here.”

  “Yeah, we are.”

  They sat silently for a moment, discreetly checking each other out. Finally, he said, “Thanks for the conversation.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Inside the shadowy remains of what had once been the supermarket portion of the mall, Eve was careful where she walked. The rest of the techs, investigators and canine teams were doing the same. The floor was littered with scorched metal, bricks and charred cans. Heat-warped beams that had once been a part of the ceiling now formed a grim and blackened obstacle course. Fire had signature smells. House fires smelled of burnt food, fabrics and wood. Commercial buildings—burnt electronics and plastics. This site had both. The foul scent of torched food and wiring mingled with plastics, fibers and wood. Because of the variety of materials in the store, the fire had burned big and hot, but rarely did one burn so hot that it obliterated the flash point, and this one was no exception. It had begun at the back of the building.

  Outside, Eve stood in the cold and watched the techs measuring burn patterns while others chipped off pieces of the blackened bricks to send to the lab for tests. The faint scent of gasoline still had been detectable inside but was particularly strong where she and Palmer were standing. “What’s your take, Captain?”

  “I think Blazer was right. The way the gasoline was thrown around I’m surprised the perp made it out alive. The initial flame up had to be enormous.”

  Eve looked down at the twisted, melted remnants of the security camera lying amidst the debris on the ground a few feet away. If it had any taped evidence, they’d never know. “So, an amateur maybe?”

  “I’d say yes.”

  They were interrupted by one of the canine handlers who had a clipboard with some paperwork the captain needed to initial. Once that was accomplished, the uniformed female officer and her big gray German shepherd named Lucy moved on.

  Eve asked, “You checked the area hospitals, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How about we widen the parameters and take Michigan, Ohio and Indiana?”

  “Sure. Can’t hurt.”

  She pulled out her phone and made some calls. When she was done, she said to him. “They’ll get back to us if they turn up anything.”

  “Thanks.” He looked at his watch. “My, how fast four and a half hours fly by when you’re having fun. We’ve done all we need for now. Let’s let them finish up and we head back to file the paperwork. I want to get the word out on the reward as soon as I can.”

  “Sounds good.”

  The wind whipping off the Detroit River made an already raw day a subfreezing ordeal. By the time they got back into the car, Eve was so cold from being out in the elements she didn’t think she’d thaw out again until spring. Inside her boots, her
feet felt like blocks of ice. “Oh! Turn up the heat.”

  He chuckled, “It’s on full blast. Give it a minute. Thought you were from Chicago.”

  “I am, but cold is cold. And don’t pretend you’re not freezing. I can see you shivering.”

  He stripped off his gloves and blew on his hands. “Who, me?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Are you ever going to take off those shades?”

  “If I do, I’ll have to kill you.”

  He grinned and drove off the site. Upon merging into traffic, he said to her. “I need to make a quick stop before we head back. That okay with you?”

  “As long as it’s inside and we get something to eat afterwards, I’m good.”

  “Okay.”

  They didn’t drive far, but she was a little caught off guard when he pulled into the parking lot of a school.

  “My daughter Kia goes here,” he said, explaining. “Our fire department got a grant to buy smoke detectors, and they finally came in. The principal’s going to give them away to families that can’t afford their own. I got her school’s share in the trunk.”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  “Just trying to keep my daughter’s friends safe.”

  Once he parked, he took the box out of his crowded trunk, and she walked with him into the building.

  The principal was a woman named Randall. Eve guessed she was in her mid-forties. Tall, willowy, light-skinned. By her body language and smile, it was obvious that she found Palmer even more pleasing than the donated smoke detectors. He introduced Eve. After a cursory hello, Randall pretty much ignored her from that point on and went back to beaming at Palmer.

  “Mind if I see Kia for a minute?” he asked Ms. Randall.