Hot For You

by Cheyenne McCray

  She brought up the tracking program she had downloaded earlier and entered Firebug’s email address. She took a deep breath and clicked on “start.”

  For a long moment she stared at the screen, watching its progress but knowing it would take some time to track him down. He was good, really good.

  She frowned as she considered that. Was Firebug a computer expert? A hacker even? He had to have some kind of day job, didn’t he? She drummed her fingers on the desktop as she contemplated her thoughts.

  Feeling suddenly jittery and unable to sit still, she got up from her seat and started pacing the room. She wanted to get out, to go for a walk, to do something rather than just sitting here and waiting.

  Cody had told her to wait in the hotel room, but what would it hurt to go down to the lobby? She could stretch her legs and go into their coffee shop. She could use a bite to eat, and something with caffeine would be nice, too.

  She checked the progress of the tracking program, which was still working, chipping away at every roadblock it came to.

  After she stuffed her iPhone in her pocket and cash from her purse in her opposite pocket, along with the keycard, she headed out of the hotel room and to the elevator. It felt good to be moving, good to be away from the computer and thinking about Firebug and the horrible videos. It was as if putting distance between her and her laptop was putting distance between her and Firebug.

  Well, at least she was going to try not to think about it all. Her stomach churned as the image of the woman on fire popped into her mind and she pressed her palm to her abdomen. She had to get those images out of her mind. Maybe that hadn’t really been a woman on fire. It could be special effects, couldn’t it?

  She took the elevator down to the lobby, trying to think about anything but the videos and the woman. When the doors parted, she headed out and across the lobby to the coffee shop. The smell of dark roast invigorated her as she went to the counter.

  The perky young brunette barista, with Dahlia on her nametag, smiled at Carilyn. “Ready for a cup of hot coffee and a pastry?” She inclined her head toward the pastry case.

  “Sounds terrific.” Carilyn relaxed and looked over the pastries. “I’ll have a large dark roast and one of those cheese Danishes.” She paid with the cash she’d brought with her then stuffed the change back in her pocket.

  Dahlia used a pair of tongs to put a Danish into a small pastry bag and then poured a cup of coffee before giving both to Carilyn. After adding sugar and half-and-half, she sat at a small table near the entrance.

  Instead of dwelling on the horrors, she thought about Cody. The way his eyes lit up when he smiled, his sexy little grin, and his hard, muscular body that felt so good against hers when they made love.

  Love. Cody had told her that he loved her, but she hadn’t been able to say it back to him. It was too soon and she had to think about her life back in Kansas.

  As she ate her Danish, her thoughts turned to Sam showing up and how he’d told her he wanted to get back together with her. It had been such a shock to see him, and an even bigger shock to find out why he’d returned.

  Could she ever go back with Sam if she returned to Kansas City and left everything she’d come to love here in Prescott? She frowned as she considered it. No, she couldn’t. Heck, she couldn’t even get herself to think about leaving Cody behind. Just the thought of being separated from him tore her up inside.

  She knew the truth. She was in love with Cody and she would do anything to be with him. Including moving to Arizona. She bit into her cheese Danish, feeling a sense of excitement that she hadn’t felt before.

  Compared to her love with Cody, it seemed to her that her love for Sam had been more friendship than anything.

  “Hi.” A man’s voice jerked her from her thoughts and her eyes shot up to see a vaguely familiar geeky-looking guy wearing a tweed suit. He had stringy hair hanging out from beneath a felt hat, a bushy red mustache, and a beard. He stood over her and was smiling. “Can I sit here?”

  The coffee shop had plenty of empty tables and she tried not to frown as she set her Danish on a paper napkin on the table. She really didn’t want company right now unless it was Cody.

  Before she could respond, the stocky man was pulling out a chair at her table. “Thanks,” he said with a smile. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  She shook her head as she looked at his longish hair that fell over his bearded face. His smile didn’t reach his pale blue eyes behind his horn-rimmed glasses and something tingled at the base of her neck.

  “You do seem familiar.” She forced a smile. “Where have we met before?”

  “At Jo-Jo’s.” He looked a little put off by her not remembering exactly who he was. “I bumped into you by the bathrooms.”

  “Oh.” Yes, she could see the resemblance although she didn’t remember the mustache and he hadn’t worn a hat or suit. “I’m sorry. I guess I’d had one mojito too many.”

  “I’m Nathan.” He pushed hair out of his eyes with one hand. She noticed his other hand was below the table. “Why don’t we go out for lunch and I’ll treat?”

  “I can’t.” She offered Nathan a smile even though she didn’t feel like smiling. “I’m waiting for my—my boyfriend to get back.”

  “Isn’t he gone, Carilyn?” Nathan said as he stared at her.

  “Cody will be back—” She froze. “I didn’t tell you my name.”

  A grin spread across Nathan’s face as he put both hands on the table. Something small and black was in one of his stubby-fingered hands and he wore a silver ring with a blue stone. “I know a lot about you, Carilyn Thompson.”

  Chills rolled over her body, her scalp prickling. “I need to go. Cody will be here any minute now.”

  Nathan’s expression and his eyes grew cold. “I’ve been watching you both, Carilyn. I know he just left twenty minutes ago so I’d wager I have a minimum of an hour’s head start.”

  Her gaze dropped to his hand and she looked at his ring again. She grew lightheaded as she realized it was a ring like the one the man in the video had been wearing when he’d tossed a lit match on the pile of matchsticks beneath the redheaded Barbie doll.

  “Leave or I’ll scream.” Her voice shook as she clenched the tabletop with her fingers.

  His grin grew more sinister as he opened his hand and laid a small, cheap cell phone on the table. “All I have to do is call a special number and your boyfriend will get blown to bits this time.”

  She stared at him in horror. “Don’t. Please.”

  “It all depends on you.” His eyes grew cold. “Come with me now, or I swear I’ll bring the wrath of God down on the McBrides and every other cop who’s in that warehouse right now.”

  She didn’t have a choice. “Where are you taking me?”

  He picked the phone up off the table, pushed his chair back, and stood. “Come on, sweet Carilyn. You’ll find out soon enough.”

  ***

  Chapter 23

  Excellent. Nathan felt almost giddy with excitement as he put his arm around Carilyn’s shoulders and walked with her out of the coffee shop. He steered her to the left so that they could head out the back exit.

  “Don’t give any sign that might make me want to press that speed dial number on the phone,” he said close to her ear. “Understand?”

  “Yes.” She sounded stunned, her voice trembling as she looked straight ahead. “I understand.”

  They walked down the hall. With his disguise, he was certain he wouldn’t be recognized if they ran into anyone. Not that anyone had ever paid him much attention to begin with.

  Which was one reason why being Firebug was so much fun. He received plenty of attention now—although anonymously. He knew he’d never be caught. He was too good, too smart. It was almost a shame that no one would ever know he was the genius behind the fires…and Janice’s death.

  He supposed he’d be considered a serial killer once he took care of Carilyn. He’d have to be even more careful than he
already was. The FBI might be called in if they found her body. He wasn’t sure that he wanted it to be found, but he did want to make a video and put it up on YouTube, too.

  Once he and Carilyn stepped through the rear exit and into the sunshine, he looked around to make sure they were alone. Still keeping his arm around her shoulders, he guided her down the sidewalk to the back of the parking lot. Carilyn slipped in mud at the edge of the sidewalk, the puddle caused by a leaking irrigation bubbler. He scowled as he caught her before she could fall, then jerked her along to a beat-up white Corolla that he’d had for years that he only used for his special “field trips”. It was the kind of vehicle that blended in and didn’t attract attention.

  He opened up the back passenger side door and beckoned to her. She hesitated. He held up the phone and she hurried to slide onto the bench seat. He looked around again then pulled a zip tie out of his tweed jacket pocket.

  “Give me your wrists.” She did what he told her to and was trembling as he used the zip tie to secure her.

  Again he looked around as he took two handkerchiefs out of his other jacket pocket. “Scoot over,” he said and seated himself beside her when she obeyed him.

  He had her bend down so that she couldn’t be seen as he gagged her. Tears rolled down her face and then he put a handkerchief blindfold on her. He worked as quickly as he could, but with his stubby fingers he wasn’t exactly deft.

  When he finished, he said, “Lie down,” then shoved her onto her side.

  She gave a muffled groan when her head hit the rear passenger door.

  Once again he checked his surroundings as he slid out of the back of the Corolla. He swung her legs onto the bench seat so that her knees were bent and her feet inside the car. He took another zip tie and secured her ankles with it. He picked a blanket up off of the floorboards and spread it over her.

  After he was done, he rested his hand on her ass and she shrank away from him. He scowled. He got out and slammed the door shut before going around to the driver’s side and climbing in. He locked all four doors, started the vehicle, and backed out of the parking space.

  On the way to his destination, he whistled a tuneless tune and grinned to himself. He’d done it again. Just like he’d had Janice Barnhart, he now had Carilyn Thompson.

  He drove up into the Bradshaw Mountains for some time until he was deep in the forest and almost to a couple’s seasonal home that would be vacant until summer. He’d have to find another place once he was finished with Carilyn.

  Or better yet, he could set the cabin on fire with her body inside. It was far enough out of town that he could watch it burn for a long time before anyone showed up to investigate it. He’d have plenty of time to enjoy the fire.

  When he reached the cabin, he backed the car up to it then climbed out and opened the back door. He grabbed Carilyn under her armpits and dragged her out of the car. He almost dropped her as her lower half landed on the ground, but managed not to completely let her go.

  She didn’t fight him as he dragged her out. Clearly she knew it was useless and she didn’t want to cause him to trigger the bomb at the warehouse. He did like a fighter, though, so he hoped she’d show a little spirit when he got down to business.

  Her legs bumped along the steps when he dragged her up them, and she whimpered. He’d thrown Janice over his shoulder but had ended up hurting his back, so this would have to do. By the time he got her inside the roomy cabin and had pulled her up into a chair he’d set up earlier, he was sweating like racehorse.

  Being a redhead, she had a fair complexion, but she looked even paler than he’d noticed before. Not surprising, he supposed, considering that she’d no doubt seen the videos that he’d uploaded. Of course the contrast of the black blindfold and gag against her pale skin was emphasized.

  He shrugged off the tweed jacket and tossed it aside, leaving him in a dirty white T-shirt. He raked his fingers through his sweaty hair, and then braced his hands on his wide hips as he stared at her. It was her fault that she was here. If she hadn’t rejected him when he’d offered to buy her a drink, if she’d considered going out with him, he would never have had to do what he planned to do now. Like Janice, she deserved it.

  He got out a piece of chalk, crouched down and drew a large circle in front of her. That was where he’d pour the gasoline. He wanted to extend the amount of time it would take for the fire to get to her. When he finished drawing the circle, he stood.

  What was going on in that pretty little head of hers, he wondered as he walked around her and the chair just outside the circle. He took in her disheveled red hair, wrinkled shirt, dusty jeans, and muddy shoes.

  He thought about stripping her out of her clothes and keeping her tied up naked, but decided that would be too distracting. The last thing he needed would be to get distracted when there was so much to do. Besides, he wasn’t a rapist and he didn’t molest women—rapists were the lowest of the low.

  But you’re a murderer, Nathan, went through his mind in his mother’s voice. That’s as low as you can get.

  “No.” He tried to shake off the thought and her shrill tone, but it echoed in his head, over and over again.

  You’re a murderer, Nathan… Murderer…

  He clapped his hands to either side of his head. “Stop it!” he screamed.

  Rage tore through him and he stepped forward and slapped Carilyn so hard she fell off the chair. The gag muffled her cry of pain and surprise.

  “Bitch.” He jerked her up and onto the chair, forcing her back onto the seat hard. He grabbed a rope lying near the camera and then bound her from shoulders to waist to the chair. Her wrists were still zip-tied in back of her, and her ankles were still bound. “It’s your fault. Your fucking fault!” he shouted.

  With a howl of anger, he jerked off her blindfold. She blinked away the sudden brightness of light in the cabin and stared at him with wide horror-filled green eyes. A red handprint stood out against her pale skin.

  As she watched him, he paced the floor, muttering to himself as he kept hearing his mother taunting him. You’re a murderer, Nathan… Murderer…

  With another scream, he dropped to his knees on the floor and clapped his hands over his ears as if that might block the sound of his mother’s voice in his head. That old bitch had burned him, left him with a scarred body and mind.

  He could feel ropes binding him to a chair and the pain of cigarettes burning into his torso and on the soles of his feet. One time she’d held his hand over a gas flame as he shrieked and sobbed, until his hand blistered. When she was finished, she put burn ointment on the wound and wrapped it with gauze. For a while she left him alone, but then she couldn’t help but use him as her personal ashtray.

  How he hated her.

  But she was his mother. He loved his mother.

  He covered his face with his hands and sobbed.

  The fury that overtook him was so great that he started shaking with it. He pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and raised it up to show Carilyn.

  Her eyes widened with terror and she violently shook her head while crying out at him behind her gag. He watched her as he entered the number to the cell phone at the warehouse and she gave a wordless scream.

  ***

  Chapter 24

  The urgency Cody felt was so intense that he couldn’t explain it. He had to get to Carilyn. Had to.

  He started to reach for his cell phone to call Carilyn when something caught his eye on top of a stack of crates. He frowned. It looked like it was probably nothing. But his gut told him to check it out.

  Cody jogged to where he thought he saw the unusual object while Reese followed him. Cody went to the pile of old wooden crates. He peered on top of a crate and froze.

  A cell phone detonator was strapped to enough C-4 to take out the entire warehouse.

  “Clear out!” Cody shouted. “Bomb!”

  Reese backed up. “Shit.”

  Cody and Reese shouted and waved everyone out of the building. Cod
y’s heart pounded harder and harder and his throat went dry.

  The moment the place was clear, Reese and Cody ran from the building.

  Cody had just made it to the opposite side of a police cruiser, Reese close behind, when the world exploded.

  Heat and noise filled the air as the warehouse went up. Reese gave a shout of pain, and when he landed on the ground beside Cody, he was cradling his hand to his belly, blood soaking his white shirt, his face contorted with pain.

  “Reese.” Cody tore off his T-shirt as fire boiled up into the sky. “Where are you hurt?”

  “My hand.” Reese grimaced then raised his hand. The last two fingers on his hand had been sheared off. “At least it’s my left.”

  “Damn.” Cody wrapped his T-shirt around Reese’s hand. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  “Don’t think so.” Reese gritted his teeth. “We’re going to get that sonofabitch.”

  “You’re damned right we are.” Cody squeezed his cousin’s shoulder. “Stay here while I check to see if anyone else needs help.”

  Reese waved him off. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Two police officers were seriously wounded and Reese’s partner, Detective Petrova, had been knocked unconscious, but she was coming around. One of the injured officers had taken a piece of shrapnel to his shoulder where it had lodged. Another had a deep cut across his face. A couple of others had minor wounds, but overall they’d made it through relatively unscathed. Thank God he’d taken notice of the bomb.

  “Is everyone accounted for?” Reese asked John as he came to stand beside Cody.

  John gave a grim nod. “We’re all lucky to be here.” He focused on Cody. “Thank God you were with us.”

  Reese clapped his good hand on Cody’s shoulder, as the sound of sirens grew louder in the distance. “Thank you,” Reese said.

  “Damned lucky was it,” Cody said, his expression grim. “I need to get back to Carilyn. I’ve got a bad feeling and I want to make sure she’s all right.”