by Pandora Pine
Feeling weak in the knees, I let the water wash my hand clean before snapping off the flow and resting against the wall.
Sweet baby cheeses. If getting down with Ozzy was anything like my fantasies of him, I might not survive our first night together. I’d die happy with a smile on my face and empty balls.
If only I could turn fantasy into reality.
11
Ozzy
Being woken up at the crack of dawn by the chief of the Gloucester Fire Department sucked in spades. I’d barely slept, but had managed to drop off about fifteen minutes before my phone rang. Every time I shut my eyes prior to that little cat nap, all I could see was the bottle of glue lying on the carpet in Deacon’s car.
Having glue in his car didn’t make him a criminal. Lots of people used glue in the course of a day. It was possible Deacon had used it for something and had just forgotten it in the car. The rest of the vehicle looked immaculate, as if it had been recently detailed. I supposed that was why the glue looked so out of place. I might not have even noticed it if the car had been messy.
The car being detailed brought up another red flag. Why had Deacon had his car recently detailed? Was it because I caught a whiff of gasoline on him at the fire out on Old Salem Road, or was he a neat freak?
All thoughts of Deacon’s habits flew out the window when I drove into the parking lot for Firehouse Three. In addition to Kennedy’s truck and Chief Higgins’s official vehicle, there was a Cadillac I didn’t recognize. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Whatever was going on wasn’t good.
When I walked into the station, it was dead silent. Gunnar was washing one of the engines. He offered me a grim look as I walked past him. I got similar looks from some of the others as I approached my office. Taking a last deep breath, I walked in.
The situation was worse than I thought. Sitting in my office chair was Mark Holland, Chief of the Gloucester Police Department. Sitting in the other chairs were Kennedy, Chief Higgins, and Donovan Hebert, the fire marshal who’d been assigned to The Scorcher fires.
“Good morning, everyone.” With all the chairs in the office filled, including my own, I shut the door behind me and leaned back against it.
“Nice of you to finally join us, Captain Graves.” No sign of humor appeared on Chief Holland’s face.
The call had only come in half an hour ago and it took ten minutes to get here. However, I knew when to keep my mouth shut. Kennedy wore a look of relief.
“Rumor has it there’s a suspect in the Scorcher fires. Why hasn’t this man been arrested or been brought in for questioning?” Chief Holland never took his eyes off me.
It wasn’t part of my job description to arrest or interrogate arson suspects, so why the hell was his attention laser-focused on me? Again, I stayed quiet. I couldn’t help but wonder who the suspect was. I assumed that’s why Marshal Hebert was here, to fill us in on all the details.
“Captain Graves, are you hard of hearing?” Chief Holland sounded outraged.
Wait, the chief was talking to me? “I’m sorry, sir. What suspect are we talking about? I feel like I came into the middle of your conversation.”
“Are you deliberately trying to be obtuse?” Holland wore a look of disbelief.
“It’s Deacon, Oz,” Kennedy whispered to me.
My leg buckled, threatening to send me crashing to the floor. I shifted my weight to the other one and took a breath, hoping the earth would stop spinning so fast. After what happened at the hospital last week, I hadn’t said a word to anyone about the glue in Deacon’s car.
“Your entire team observed Deacon Fairbanks at the fire prior to the arrival of your engine.” Chief Higgins had his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s your job to report any suspicious persons at these fire scenes to me and Marshal Hebert. Why wasn’t that done? Why did I have to hear about this Fairbanks person from a member of your team?”
Jesus Christ, this kept getting worse. Not only was Higgins pissed at me for not telling him Deacon had been at the fire, but he also had members of my team reporting to him behind my back. What the fuck was next?
“It’s come to my attention that there is a relationship of a personal nature between you and Deacon Fairbanks.” Hebert stepped forward as he spoke. “Let me speak plain, Captain Graves. If I find out you harbored an arsonist who is responsible for four deaths and the hostage situation that took place, killing paramedic Hal Rossi, I’ll make it my personal mission to see you rot in the deepest, darkest pit. Am I understood?”
Now I was pissed. “Look, Hebert, I don’t know who you think you are, but it’s your job to investigate cases of arson. It’s not in my job description to detain suspects, collect evidence, or interview witnesses. That all falls under your purview. Nor is it your place to ask members of my team to report directly to you behind my back.” I turned my temper toward my own chief. “Nor is it your place to do the same thing. We obey the chain of command here. I would think you, Chief Higgins, would be the last person I need to remind of that.” I could list half a dozen times the chief had spoken those very same words to me in this very office. It gave me no pleasure to throw them back at him now.
“Calm down, Ozzy,” Police Chief Holland said. “All we know is that this Fairbanks character showed up at the Old Salem Road fire. You learned he had a burn injury and later followed him to Gloucester Mercy, where you witnessed his treatment and drove him home.”
Thankfully, the chief didn’t know about the kiss. I was in enough trouble without that coming out. “What you’re saying is absolutely true, chief, but you’re missing a few key facts.”
Holland threw his arms wide. “Enlighten me.”
With fucking pleasure… “Deacon Fairbanks is a reporter for The Salem Times. I met him for the first time several months ago when we realized these random fires weren’t so random. After that initial interview, Deacon kept in touch with me, occasionally calling my office or stopping by in person to ask for quotes or details about a particular fire.”
“You keep calling him Deacon, which leads me to believe you have a personal relationship with him.” Higgins raised a questioning eyebrow at me.
“I call you by your first name all the time, Pete. It doesn’t mean I’m fucking you.” My dick tried to crawl back inside me at the thought of sleeping with my boss. Pete Higgins was in his early seventies, with greying hair containing more salt than pepper. His eyes were a stunning shade of icy blue, but the man was one of those know-it-alls. Nothing turned me off faster than a man who thought he knew everything.
The room exploded. Kennedy laughed like a hyena, Higgins mouth dropped open silently, while Holland and Hebert shouted at me.
“Guys, I’m just a firefighter. It’s not my job to call Deacon a suspect, an unsub, or an alleged arsonist. That’s your job.” I paused for a minute to let my words sink in. “If I may continue?” I didn’t bother waiting for anyone’s permission. “Deacon has been covering all of the suspected arson fires. He shows up at virtually every scene, even on his nights off. He’s just as dedicated to catching this fucker as everyone in this room.”
“How do you explain Deacon being at the Old Salem Road fire before you and your team?” Higgins had found his voice again.
“He lives on Old Salem Road, which I didn’t know prior to that night. He has a police band radio tuned to the fire department frequency. It allows him to get the jump on the fires. Since he lives only a few blocks down from the fire, it was easy for him to get there before we did.” I paused again, trying to take the temperature of the room. Everyone seemed a bit calmer now. “It’s a good thing he did too, since he was able to save the homeowners from dying in that fire.”
“Ah, yes.” Holland nodded. “I’ve seen the alleged evidence.”
Alleged? Christ. “Deacon turned the four nails over to me, and members of my team were able to see where they had been hammered into the doorjamb.”
“But you have no way of knowing if Deacon hammered the nails into the
frame prior to playing hero and yanking them out again, do you?” Hebert wore a self-satisfied smirk.
My mouth dropped open. That thought had crossed my mind as well. I’d dismissed it, but it was still a bit of a shock hearing it from the fire marshal. “No, I have no way of knowing.”
“Let’s move on to last night’s fire,” Chief Higgins continued. “Deacon showed up at that fire prior to your engines again. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, that’s right. He was on his way home from McDonalds. I saw a fast-food bag in his car. I’m sure the restaurant will be able to verify the transaction and that his silver Nissan will show up on video.” I prayed that would be the case. I mentally crossed my fingers.
“It’s interesting you bring up the silver Nissan.” Hebert looked downright giddy.
“Oh, and why is that?” This was beginning to feel like a set-up. Like when the cops had you cold with DNA or prints or what-not, and they were giving you just enough rope to hang yourself before they dropped the hammer.
“It’s been seen at several of the arsons,” Hebert drawled lazily.
“Of course, it has. Deacon was covering the fires for the paper.” I shook my head in frustration. “Look, I don’t know what the hell is going on here or what you think I’m hiding. I’ve played this little game long enough. It’s time I get some answers.” I wasn’t saying another word until someone explained this to me or arrested me. If that were the case, I’d only ask for a lawyer and then shut my mouth.
Higgins held his hands up in a supplicating gesture. “At ease, Graves.” He stood from my chair and crossed the room to me, ushering me into the seat he’d just vacated. “We’re not getting anywhere with this case. We need your help.”
“You’ve got a funny way of asking for it.” Anger was still churning in my gut, but I was calm enough to listen to my chief.
“Deacon Fairbanks is the only solid lead we’ve had on this case,” Higgins began.
As much as I hated to hear that, I nodded in agreement.
“From what I understand from your brothers, the young man seems to have a thing for you.” Higgins paused.
I assumed he was waiting for a reaction from me. I didn’t give him one. I was going to have a bit of a chat with Kennedy and Dallas when this was over. They had the biggest fucking mouths and I was in just the mood to shut them.
“We’d like you to stick close to Deacon. Gain his trust and see if he’ll open up to you about these fires.” There was no sign on Higgins’s face that he was joking.
“Let me get this straight.” My temper was hanging on by a mere thread. Kennedy set a hand on my left shoulder. I wasn’t sure if he was telling me to calm the fuck down or that he had my back. I didn’t particularly care which it was. “The chiefs of the Gloucester Police and Fire Departments, in conjunction with a member of the Massachusetts State Fire Marshal’s office, want to use me as the bait in a honey-trap sting?” Hearing my voice speak those words made this whole scene even more ridiculous.
The powerful men in the room took turns looking back and forth between each other. No one said a word, at first.
“Yes, Ozzy. That’s what we’re asking,” my chief finally said. “Unless you’ve got another plan that will help us nail the arsonist?”
I didn’t have a plan. Or evidence. Or the heart to do this to Deacon. Yes, I’d seen the glue in his car last night, but that didn’t mean he’d used it to harm the family he’d then turned around to save. “Tell me what you want me to do.” I’d never felt so defeated in my life.
“I’ll leave that to you.” Police Chief Holland wore an uncomfortable look on his face. “Do whatever you think will get this young man to open up to you and trust you. Take him to dinner, or a movie, or whatever it is you do when you’re alone with a date.”
Kennedy barked out laugh. “For the love of God, Chief. He doesn’t take dates home and make skin suits out of them.”
“Yes, well, whatever.” Holland was on his feet and striding toward the door. “You will report directly to me and Higgins. Needless to say, what was discussed in this meeting does not leave the room. Am I clear?”
Everyone agreed and the meeting broke up, leaving me and Kennedy alone in my office. I’d only been here for an hour and I was ready to go the fuck home. “Christ, Kennedy. Did you know about this ahead of time?”
“No. I wish I had. You know I would have given you a heads up. I assume that’s why Holland didn’t say a word about what was going on when he told me to meet him here.” Kennedy looked me over. “What the hell are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” Oh, but I did know. Part of me was sickened by the thought of deceiving Deacon like this, while the other part of me couldn’t wait to spend more time with him.
Christ, I was in one hell of a sticky situation. I only hoped I could figure a way out that wouldn’t end with my, or Deacon’s, downfall.
12
Deacon
This wasn’t happening. It just wasn’t. How could this be happening to me? Any minute now, Fire Captain Ozzy Graves was going to show up here to take me out on a date. A real date. An actual first date. He even asked me what I would like to do, instead of deciding for both of us.
Maybe this was a dream. I’d wake up later in my bed, with spunk drying on my stomach, and I’d realize none of this happened, that it was just a product of my overactive imagination. Ozzy’s Charger pulling into my driveway proved I was awake, and this really was my life.
More than anything, I wanted to run to the front door and throw myself into his arms. I forced myself to stay where I was and give him a chance to ring the doorbell. When Ozzy did ring the bell, I made myself count to thirty before I answered the door.
“You look amazing.” Ozzy was looking at me like I was on the menu, when in fact he was the one who looked good enough to eat. He was wearing tight-fitting jeans and a navy shirt.
I wanted to invite him upstairs and offer to order pizza later when we needed to rebuild our strength. “You look great too.” He looked more than simply great, but I didn’t want to scare him off with my glowing praise.
“Let’s go. I reserved us a table.” Ozzy offered a genuine smile, not one fueled by cockiness.
My mouth dropped open. I’d never been out with a man who’d been thoughtful enough to make dinner reservations.
Ozzy held his arm out for me. I looped my arm around his and we were off. No one had ever escorted me to the car before. I was going to need to knock off the running commentary. It was obvious Ozzy was like no man I’d ever been out with in my past.
When Ozzy asked where I wanted to go, I’d picked the Mermaid Café down by the water. It was an out of the way place with the best seafood in town, according to the guy who did the restaurant reviews for the newspaper. Ozzy had never been either, so it sounded like the perfect fit.
“How was your day?” I’d wanted to hold off talking about our days until we were seated at our table, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say as we drove.
“Eh.” Ozzy shrugged. “I filled out paperwork and had a boring meeting.”
I snorted. “I know what that’s like. Do you have one of those guys who asks like ten questions when the meeting is over?”
Ozzy laughed. “Yeah, I think every office has one of those. Finally, I had to pull him aside and talk to him privately once everyone else was gone.” He turned to me after he parked the car. “Tell the truth, that guy is you, isn’t it?”
“The mad questioner? God, no!” I laughed again. It was almost like this was too easy. “No, it’s always Todd, the travel writer. I mean, doesn’t he have somewhere to be?”
Ozzy shut off the car. He leaned toward me, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
Sweet baby cheeses, if this was a dream, I was going to be majorly pissed off when I woke up. Before I could think more about dream versus reality, Ozzy was opening my door and holding his hand down to help me out of the car. I took his hand and climbed out.
“I read online that this place has the best lobster rolls on Cape Ann.” Ozzy seemed proud of his research.
I snorted. “I know exactly where you read that. Kent McNamara is our restaurant critic. He raves about this place, which is why I wanted to try it.”
“Order anything you like. This date is on me.” Ozzy grinned down at me.
This had to be a dream. I promised myself I’d stop comparing dates, but no one had ever offered me my choice of the menu before. Usually, I brought cash with me and ordered something I could pay for myself if the date went bottom up.
The restaurant had a giant mermaid masthead near the entrance. Kids loved having their pictures taken with her. I was no exception. I posed in front of the wooden carving while Ozzy took my picture. A nice lady with a thick Boston accent asked if we wanted our picture taken together. Ozzy chirped an excited, “Yes!” before running to join me in the shot.
Our hostess led us through the restaurant to a corner table with a view of the harbor. The ocean was so calm. It almost looked like a sheet of glass.
Instead of picking up the menu, I took a minute to study the restaurant. It was absolutely gorgeous, with mermaid statues and paintings as the décor. Two tables over were young parents with their daughter who was dressed as Ariel from The Little Mermaid. I waved to her when she turned around. “How cute is she?”
“Totally adorable. Just like you.” Ozzy grinned before picking up his menu.
Heat suffused my cheeks. I could feel my blush racing up my neck to bloom over my face. I needed to calm down. I’d never manage to eat a thing if Ozzy kept complimenting me like he was doing. I picked up my menu and started flipping through it, even though I already knew what I was getting. I’d gone over the online menu before Ozzy picked me up. When the waitress arrived, I ordered a buttered lobster roll with chips and coleslaw. Ozzy ordered the same thing.
