by Debra Erfert
“My name is Candice Shane, and I’m a private investigator. This is my partner, Liz Guerrero. We came here, hoping the boy was hiding in one of the new houses.” Candice relaxed her stance from threatening to something less than that.
“Are you talking about Joshua Leavitt?” the man asked.
“Yes,” Liz said, with awe in her voice.
“His parents are our clients, and they asked us to look for him.” Candice motioned with her flashlight. “They live down the road and I thought this would be a great place for kids to get lost in.”
“Yeah, I know they do,” he said, rolling his shoulder. He had landed hard.
“You’ve see him?” Candice asked, hoping for a quick ending.
“No, not Joshua, but we’ve had other kids here since construction started,” he said, rubbing his ribs. “And they’ve given the company a lot of trouble, enough that they hired security to patrol the place after dark.” He gazed at Liz and said, “I’m sorry. This is my first job after graduation. I didn’t mean to treat you so roughly.” He looked back at Candice. “I guess I got what I deserved, but you don’t look big enough to kick my rear-end, yet I went down like a sacked quarterback.”
Candice studied him a little closer. He must’ve been around Liz’s age, and he did look like a football player, despite the poor simile he used as a hint.
“What’s your name?” Liz asked. Candice was surprised she didn’t ask if he was married.
“Daryl Vanderguard,” he said, staring at Liz with a smile as conspicuous as Alex’s when he looked at Candice. “I’m just doing this until I can get a job with one of the local police departments. I’ve applied to Phoenix and Tempe—”
“Daryl . . .” Candice held out her hand and broke into their conversation. “Would you mind if I continued to look through the new construction for Joshua, and maybe you could take Liz through the next one and look for the boy, too?”
“Sure!” he said quickly and with a bigger grin. “That would be fine, now that I know you’re not going to start a fire.”
“What?” Candice asked in disbelief. She’d heard him the first time, but the realization that kids had burned down a house so close to hers not only unnerved her, but angered her as well.
He motioned toward the partially built house down at the end of the block. “That house was almost finished when it went up like dried kindling. Cost the company a fine penny, and they said it scared away buyers. That’s why they hired Beachwood Security. The construction company is a small family-run business and they couldn’t afford that kind of loss again.” He gazed at Liz. “Come on, this next house has its sub-flooring in. You can really see what it’s going to look like.”
Liz looked hopefully at Candice, like she really wanted to go, but she wasn’t sure if she should leave her.
“It’s okay. I’m going to the house around the corner. Remember, scream if you need me,” Candice said, grinning.
“Thanks,” Liz whispered and then she took off with someone Candice believed would protect her. He said he graduated, probably on a football scholarship, but at least he went to school and got an education, and she was always impressed with anyone who was able to do that.
As Candice cut through a dirt lot, taking a shortcut to the back of the house she was going to search, she thought she saw a light shine through the second-story window. It was only for a moment and may have been a reflection of a headlight from a passing car. Or, maybe not.
If Joshua was going to hole up anyplace, he’d find the highest point. Candice did. And he might have thought ahead and found a flashlight in a drawer before he left, knowing he’d need it. She did. As soon as she stepped inside the new, almost completed house, she smelled the usual new carpet odors and the faint smell of paint drifting in the air mixed with the chalky drywall dust, but also . . . peanut butter. Joshua must’ve brought a sandwich with him and didn’t eat it all.
Keeping her flashlight off, her eyes adjusted quickly enough to the darkness to make it to the staircase. The house had no furniture to trip over, and she kept her fingers on the wall on her way up. As soon as she was on the second-story landing, she saw a low glow coming from the end of the hallway. In the last house, that room was the master bedroom, and at the front of the house, not where she saw the light glow.
If she had to guess, Joshua heard Liz scream and had to investigate the commotion. All he could see was people standing around. He probably thought he was safe from being discovered. Candice hated to disappoint him. When she peered around the corner, she saw the closet door ajar with light coming from inside. She looked in, and her heart melted. Joshua was leaning against the far wall, reading her black leather-bound book. Frankenstein by flashlight in a deserted house. He couldn’t have found a more frightening place to read a suspense story. Candice slowly opened the door and stepped inside . . . and scared him so badly he threw the book in her direction, dropping his flashlight as he sat upright.
“Joshua, it’s Candice Shane,” she said softly, as she picked up the book and sat down inside the closet with him. The flashlight had the tiny room lit up well enough so that he could see her, too. “I’m glad to see that you’re not hurt. I’m here because your mom and dad are freaking out that you ran away.”
Joshua pulled his knees to his chest and hid his face.
“Joshua, why did you leave?” Candice had to listen very carefully to hear his muffled voice.
“Because it was my fault my family almost died.”
He was crying. “How was it your fault, Joshua? You didn’t light the fire.” He shook his head without looking up. Candice knew he was feeling very low. She moved over and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. She didn’t know what kind of reception she’d get, but she followed her heart. He turned into her and hugged her in return. After he cried for a short while, Candice quietly asked him a question she’d wanted to ask since the fire. “Joshua, do you think Zane set the fire?”
“I . . . I think so,” he said, lifting his head.
“Does he go to your school?”
“No, he’s too old.”
Candice wondered if he was in high school. “How did he get in your house?” She listened to him take in a few jerky breaths before he answered.
“He made me give him a key.”
That made sense. Getting into a locked house without breaking a window would take a key. “Can you give me his phone number, or tell me where he lives?”
“No. He came to me one day when I was at the skate park and asked me to set a fire in an old house for him. No one was living there. It had boards up on the windows. I didn’t think anybody would get hurt. I went in the backyard and pulled the boards off and broke the window. After I set a box on fire, I watched from across the street as the whole house went up.” He put his face in her shoulder and gasped a breath. “I was never so scared. I wanted it to stop, but there wasn’t anything I could do.”
“How did Zane make you give him your house key?” Candice asked softly.
“He—he said if I didn’t then he’d go to the police and tell them what I did, and then I’d go to jail.”
“I’m sorry,” she told him, giving him an extra hard hug. She got chills by what he said next.
“He wanted me to start another fire,” Joshua whispered, “and I told him no. I think he got mad at me . . . and he wanted to kill me. If I’d known he wanted me to do more . . . bad things for him, I’d never have talked to him in the first place. I know I’ll never talk to him again.”
“‘Of what a strange nature is knowledge. It clings to the mind when it has once seized on it like a lichen on a rock.’” Candice quietly quoted her favorite author. He looked up at her in surprise.
“I know that,” Joshua quickly said. “I read that in Frankenstein.”
“That’s right,” she said. “Mary Shelley wrote it.” She held him tighter. “Don’t worry, Joshua. I won’t let Zane hurt you or your family. You won’t have to go back to school, and I’m going to hire a securi
ty guard to protect you and your family. And I’m going to find Zane. After all, that’s why your parents hired me.”
Chapter 12
“CANDICE . . . WAKE UP,” Alex said.
Oh, no! Candice must’ve fainted again. But when? Her eyes popped open as she sat upright. Patting the bed and seeing her PJs proved that she had been sleeping. Sunlight streamed through the blinds. “Alex?” He was standing at her bedroom door with a big smile on his face. “What? How’d you get in?”
“Liz let me in on her way out.”
The clock on the side table glowed in soft red. “It’s nine. What are you doing here?”
“You said we could talk before going on the search warrants. We’ve only got a couple of hours before we’re supposed to meet your Detective Donovan at the station.”
Candice frowned. Liz told her that Alex could see the way Patrick flirted with her, although it was fairly subtle.
“I need to shower and get dressed.” Alex smiled, crossing his arms over his chest, and leaned against the doorframe. After his dark eyebrows wiggled up and down, Candice pointed at the door. “Out! And close the door behind you.” He chuckled but did as he was asked. Candice let a grin touch her lips. He’d looked awfully fresh considering everything that had happened yesterday. Today might be just as busy—hopefully without gunfire.
As Candice washed her hair in the shower, taking special care not to get the cut on her shoulder wet, her mind went to last night. Alex had said he loved her. He’d been there for her when she fainted, had taken care of her without asking anything in return. Candice hadn’t felt that secure, that safe, in such a long time.
Before she got dressed, Candice turned sideways and looked at her wound in the bathroom mirror. Her steri-strips stitches were dry, but her back was covered in bruises. She hadn’t expected that, but now she understood why she hurt when she moved. Being tackled to the floor and having a guy as big as Alex land on top of her was bound to have consequences.
Candice came out of the bedroom, dressed in a pair of wide-legged dark blue dress slacks with a short matching jacket cinched in at her waist, plus a pink shirt with ruffles around the neck and edges of the sleeves. She had on a pair of low-heeled black leather boots, comfortable enough to walk in, and her hair twisted high on her head in an up-do she’d grown to love. Little curly strands fell loosely around her face. That outfit made her feel feminine.
She saw Alex sitting on the floor in front of her stereo, going through her collection of vinyl records she had stacked on the bookshelves. Candice paused at the doorway and quietly watched him. The dark blue polo shirt was the same color as his eyes, and the khaki pants had extra pockets on the legs. He looked so comfortable, like he belonged here. It left her feeling more confused than when she broke up with him so many years ago. The rational part of her brain kept telling her the pain she’d endure because of his job, if anything should happen to him, but her heart . . . wanted him. She longed for his strong arms to hold her tight, making her feel safe. She wanted his kisses that made her feel loved. Until Alex came back into her life, Candice hadn’t wanted to admit how much she missed those tender feelings.
“I need to eat before we go,” Candice said, stepping further into the living room. “I suppose you’ve had your breakfast already.”
Alex grinned up at her as she walked by. “Wow! You look beautiful! And, yes, I was up by six, doing my chores at Grandpa’s ranch. Grandma always feeds me.”
“So . . . I guess you slept well last night,” Candice said on her way into the kitchen.
Alex slid the record he’d been studying back onto the shelf before he stood up and wandered into the kitchen behind Candice. “I slept fine. Up until midnight when an Amber Alert screamed from my phone. But when I read it was Joshua Leavitt who’d disappeared, I knew his mother would call you, and I fell back asleep.” He grinned at her. “How long did it take you to find him?”
Candice swung the fridge door open and took out a jug of orange juice then set it on the counter before letting her eyes fall on his handsome smile. “What makes you think I found him?”
Alex took down two glasses from the cabinet next to the fridge, setting them next to the juice. “Didn’t you?”
Candice finally gazed up into his eyes and smiled. “Inside of thirty minutes after Meagan called me.”
“Yeah, I thought so. Did he say why he ran away?” he asked while pouring orange juice into the glasses.
“Uh-huh,” she said, watching him drink the juice down in one breath. “He said it was his fault his family almost died.” She told him about what Joshua told her last night.
“Zane has a key to the Leavitts’ house?” Alex asked in surprise.
“Yes. I figured that’s how those two boys got inside. Zane gave them a key.”
“That makes sense. But why torch the Leavitts’ house?”
“Joshua believes Zane got mad at him because he wouldn’t start another fire.”
“It sounds like he has his own circle of juvenile arsonists,” Alex said.
Candice continued with the same line of thought. “Doesn’t it, though? And if they don’t keep in line, they have the threat of having their own homes set on fire, using Joshua as the example. And who knows if he’s the first. That’s why they’re so afraid of him.”
Alex said, “But they get rewarded when they do what they’re told.”
Candice nodded while she pushed her glass of juice around in little circles. “And they seem to be doing something they have an affinity for. Kind of a love-hate relationship, isn’t it?” She stared into Alex’s sad blue eyes. “Last night, Daryl, the security guard at the new subdivision near Grandfather’s house, told me that they had a house that was almost completed go up in flames. The family-owned construction company hired the security because they couldn’t afford to have something like that happen again. Daryl said kids had been seen hanging around, which under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have thought twice about before yesterday.”
Alex agreed. “But with a group of kids like these, who knows?”
“Right? I think I’d like to go through police arson reports made within the past six months or so.”
Alex asked, “Looking for any connection between the fires and juvenile fire setters?”
“You bet.”
Alex stepped closer to her. “Can that wait until after we talk?”
Candice grinned. “Isn’t that what we’re doing now?”
“Not the kind I’d hoped for,” he said, moving to within a few inches of her body. “I want to talk about us.” Alex took a deep breath and quickly let it out as he ran his fingers lightly along her curls. “I love your hair this color. It brings out the blue in your eyes,” he whispered, slipping his hands around her waist and lowering his head. His tongue momentarily swiped his lips.
Candice pressed a firm hand to his muscular chest, stopping him from getting any closer, and side-stepped his obvious attempt to kiss her. “Stop it,” she told him before striding around to the other side of the breakfast bar, putting a good distance between them. She needed him to get serious.
“Stop what?” Alex asked, grinning.
“Stop avoiding the issue.” Candice lifted her chin and asked, “Why are you here, trying to kiss me, when you have a fiancée?”
Alex leaned his hands against the edge of the countertop and lost his smile. It took several moments before he said, “I didn’t go straight home last night after I left you—”
“You went to see . . . her?” Candice asked, the word nearly choking in her throat and feeling her anger emerge. Was he only looking at Candice for an affair while keeping his other woman in the dark?
Alex slightly nodded. “We talked for an hour about our feelings. I told her about you, and if there was a chance, no matter how slim, I wanted to try to make us work this time.”
“Us? You and Jen?”
Alex stood up straight and motioned to Candice with a point of his finger. “You and me, Candice. Jen and
I were never an us, not really. We were dating for three months. Truth be known, I never dated a woman for more than a handful of months. I always end up comparing them to you.” He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “My feelings toward another woman can’t come close to how I felt about you. I . . . I just can’t get you out of my thoughts or my heart. I’m in love with you, and I can’t change that.”
Candice shook her head. “But I don’t . . .” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t vocalize the words she needed to say. She wanted to shout I don’t love you! But she couldn’t. She’d be lying—to him—and to herself. His eyes were riveted on hers. His beautiful, loving dark blue eyes. “Alex, I’m—” she gasped a breath—“I’m afraid.”
Alex’s brows rose. “Of me?”
Candice subtly shook her head and lowered her voice to nearly a whisper. “Of what might happen in the future.”
“Anything can happen, Candice.” Alex frowned. “Tell me, if we were married, would you leave me if I was diagnosed with a terminal illness? Or if I was badly injured in a car crash? Or lose my vision? Or hearing?”
“That’s ridiculous! I’d never do something like that!” Heat from embarrassment, or anger, filled her face at his accusations. “That would be inhumane!”
“But that’s a part of life. Death is a part of life. What could be so bad that you can’t love me?”
She gasped in an emotional breath. “You might be shot to death.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t live with that.”
Alex frowned. “If we were together, you mean.”
“Of course that’s what I mean,” Candice said defensively. “If you were shot . . .” A knot of thick emotion strangled the rest of her words.
Alex stood straight, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. “Now, that’s ironic. You don’t want a relationship with me because I might be killed in the line of duty, yet just yesterday I might’ve seen you die from a gunshot wound and not the other way around. But I’d never ask you to change your career because of the danger you’ve experienced.”
