The Arsonist

by Burton, Mary

  He dropped his head to the nape of her neck. The stubble on his jaw brushed her bare skin like sandpaper. “Are you married? Engaged?” He didn’t sound like he cared for either option. “No.”

  Gannon raised his head and looked her in the eyes. “Then why not?”

  She scooted out from under him, needing distance. “We are working together.”

  “I can maintain perspective.” He sat up and shoved his long fingers through his hair.

  She wasn’t sure if that was true. But she knew she couldn’t sustain any sort of balance if they started sleeping together. “I don’t mix business with sex.”

  Gannon watched Darcy move to the other side of the counter. Today had been chock-full of surprises. “Fair enough.”

  “Look, I better go now.”

  Those long legs of hers would stick with his memory for a good while. He shoved his hand in his pocket. “Right.” A cold shower was definitely in order. “I’ll start assembling surveillance equipment, place them at high risk areas.”

  “Great.” She stumbled toward the door. Her hair was mussed and her cheeks flushed. He wasn’t the only one who needed a cold shower. “I’ll call as soon as I hear from Paul.”

  “Sure.”

  She half walked, half ran out the door. Moving across the apartment to the window that overlooked the alley separating their buildings, Gannon watched her disappear into the tavern.

  “When this mess is over, Darcy, I’ll make love to you properly.”

  Nero sat outside the elementary school, watching the children play on the playground. Several boys swung from monkey bars, others played touch football while the girls gathered near the swings to whisper secrets that made them all laugh. The teachers visited on a park bench while glancing periodically at the playground.

  The day was beautiful, the sky a deep azure and the breeze soft and gentle. It was a perfect day for a fire.

  He stared at the school’s brick exterior, imagining his red flames dancing as they devoured the structure. His fires would sway and bend beautifully in the gentle wind today, moving like an exquisite ballerina’s arms swaying in time to the symphony’s music.

  He checked his watch. Twelve o’clock.

  His fire would come alive in one hour—when all the children were back inside for their afternoon classes.

  The only fly in the ointment was the timetable. Nero wanted to take more time in between the fires. He didn’t like to rush. The time after a fire was like the afterglow of great sex. This was the time he studied the damage his fires wrought, drank in the newspapers’ reports and soaked up the talk of people who worried when he’d strike next.

  But the game was different this time.

  It was faster paced.

  More dangerous.

  More thrilling.

  Given too much time, Gannon would catch him this time. The investigator was smart and had learned from his past mistakes. If he didn’t move quickly, Gannon would catch him and lock him up for the rest of his life.

  And he had no intention of going to jail.

  Nero climbed back into his truck and started the engine. Gannon would be receiving his pack of Rome matches as the fire started. But even if Gannon sprinted across town, he would not reach the school to warn everyone.

  Whistling, Nero started the truck and headed back to work.

  After Darcy left, Gannon tracked down a guy in town who owned three surveillance cameras and was willing to rent them to him. The problem was that there were nine schools in the city—seven elementary, one middle and a high school. He’d never be able to cover all nine with three cameras.

  Spreading out a map of the city he marked each school with a red dot. Nero would most likely go for the school that would garner the most attention. Elementary, most likely. And definitely, in the center of town. He wanted people to watch his fire. And he wanted them afraid.

  There were three schools in the immediate area. They were positioned for the greatest splash. And Nero liked splash.

  Bastard.

  For a moment Gannon closed his eyes. Damn, but he felt helpless. Rage rolled over him like a wave. The son of a bitch was alive. And he was going to kill again.

  He checked his watch. Twelve thirty. There’d been thirty-six hours between the first two fires. In D.C. Nero had set his first three fires fourteen days apart. Then the pattern had dropped to every four days apart and then two. Now, however, it was anybody’s guess when Nero would strike again.

  Gannon gathered up his papers and headed downstairs to the garage. He was going out the back door when a courier rode up on a bike. The kid was tall, lanky—most likely a college student earning an extra few bucks. He wore a red-and-white cycle racing jersey.

  The courier stopped his bike, checked the address of the building. “You Michael Gannon?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Got a delivery for you, dude.”

  Gannon accepted the white envelope. He didn’t need to open it to know it was from Nero. “There’s a twenty in it if you can tell me who sent this.” He dug the money out of his pocket.

  “Don’t know. It was given to me by dispatch. Oh, but I do know I was told not to deliver it to you until one o’clock.” The kid checked his watch and grinned. “I got a class at one. I was going to drop it off afterwards but this girl I know asked me to help her study. She’s a fox and I didn’t want to disappoint her.”

  Gannon handed the kid the twenty.

  “Thanks, dude,” the kid said.

  Gannon didn’t acknowledge the kid’s thanks or notice him drive off as he ripped open the envelope. Inside was the picture of an elementary school. White columns, tall bushes and a cement sidewalk but no sign and no identifying marks. It would take him time to figure out which school this was—time he didn’t have.

  Darcy would know. She’d been raised in Preston Springs.

  He ran across the street and tried the front door. It was locked. Cursing, he ran down the alley to the back of the restaurant. Opening the kitchen door, he dashed inside. An older woman stood by the stove. She glanced at him, her eyes wide with shock.

  “Where’s Darcy?” he demanded.

  “Who wants to know?” Though her hair had turned to gray, she had the same sharp gaze as Darcy.

  “Damn it, where is she? This is an emergency!”

  “She’s upstairs in the shower,” the woman said.

  He started toward the back staircase.

  “I’m going to call the police,” she shouted.

  “Fine.” He took the stairs two at a time. “Darcy!”

  Darcy rounded the corner at the top of the stairs. Her hair was wet and she wore pants and flip-flops. She clutched a blue shirt over her bra. “I heard you screaming. What’s wrong? I thought someone had died.”

  He raced up the stairs and thrust the picture at her. “What school is this?”

  Quickly she pulled on her shirt. “It’s Morgan Elementary.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Long Street.”

  “Show me.”

  He took her by the hand and half pulled her down the stairs. When they reached the kitchen, Mrs. Sampson was standing with a kitchen knife in one hand and the phone in the other. “You let her go!”

  Gannon knew where Darcy got her loud voice.

  “Its okay, Mom,” Darcy said as he towed her through the kitchen. “Mr. Gannon is my friend.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not being kidnapped?”

  “No.”

  Gannon opened the back door and paused. “Call the fire department and tell them to get to Morgan Elementary school.”

  “I don’t take orders from you!”

  “Mom, please,” Darcy pleaded. “Just do it.”

  Her mother was mumbling something about rudeness and this was the last straw as she dialed the fire department.

  Darcy struggled to keep up in her flip-flops as they ran into his garage. He pushed the bike outside and started the engine as she hopped on the back. No
t bothering with helmets, they skidded out the garage door.

  “Is this Nero’s next target?” she shouted against his ear.

  He barely stopped at a stop sign before he rolled on through toward the school. “Yes.”

  Five minutes later he stopped his bike by the front door of the school, parking on the front lawn. He checked his watch. Ten minutes to one o’clock. “He’s going to set the fire at one o’clock.”

  “How do you know?” she asked following him up the brick steps.

  “It’s in his note.”

  Gannon glanced at the school office sign. “Dammit, I don’t have time to argue with people.”

  Darcy brushed past him and toward the fire alarm on the wall. “Then, don’t.” She pulled the lever.

  A loud buzzer started blaring in the concrete halls and red lights on the wall started to flash. Immediately, students started filing out of their classrooms and heading out the exits.

  The principal hurried out the office. His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “What is going on here? If that Nick Bernard pulled the alarm again, I’ll suspend him for the rest of his life.”

  “I pulled the fire alarm,” Darcy said.

  “Is this some kind of joke?”

  Gannon stepped between them. “No joke. I think you’re going to have a fire today.”

  “You think.”

  “Look, I’ll explain everything, but I need for you to clear this building.”

  As the alarm wailed, the principal studied him a moment then hustled back into the office. Seconds later he announced, “Teachers, administrators and staff. Vacate the building immediately. This is not a drill.”

  The principal followed Gannon and Darcy out of the building. “This better be on the level,” he said as he adjusted the frequency of a walkie-talkie he’d picked up in the office.

  The parking lots and playgrounds quickly filled with children. In the distance, the fire truck’s sirens blared as the engines got closer and closer.

  Gannon glanced at his watch. The long hand clicked to one o’clock. For several seconds nothing happened. He was aware of Darcy behind him, her body pressed close to his back.

  Children talked and laughed—grateful to be out of class again so soon after lunch. The teachers and administrators nervously glanced at the principal. The fire engines grew closer.

  And there was no fire. Seconds ticked by.

  The principal walked up to Gannon. “You mind telling me what the devil is going on here?”

  “There’s going to be a fire in the building.”

  “You said already. How do you know this?”

  “There have been two other fires in town.”

  “Yeah, so. What does that have to do with my school?”

  “I think yours is next.” He thrust the paper at the principal. “He said it would burn today at one o’clock.”

  “Who’s he?”

  “Nero.”

  Before the principal could question him further, the engines screeched around the corner. Red lights flashing, the two engines parked in front of the school. The captain climbed down off the engine and strode over to the principal as his men pulled hose lines from the two red engines and unloaded axes and crowbars. “What’s going on here?”

  “This man says there is going to be a fire in the school any minute.”

  The captain met Gannon’s steady gaze. “You’re Gannon, right?”

  Great. The chief had warned his men about him. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  The captain shook his head. “Buddy, you are a real nut job, aren’t you?”

  Gannon didn’t care if they called him the village idiot right now. As long as the children were out of the school. He handed the picture to the captain.

  “How do I know you didn’t take this?” the captain said.

  Darcy stepped forward. “He didn’t.”

  He arched a bushy brow. “And you know this why?”

  She brushed a wet curl off her face. “He came to me. He needed help finding the school.”

  He muttered an oath. “So you only have his word.”

  Challenge sparked in her eyes. “That’s right.”

  “Oh, well, that makes it better.” He shook his head and pulled off his hat, running his fingers through his thick black hair.

  The principal shook his head. “Can my kids go back inside the school?”

  Gannon would block the damn entrance with his body if need be. “Don’t send them in, yet. Give it a few more minutes.”

  The captain glanced at his watch. “It’s five after one. Your fire is late.”

  Gannon stared at the school. “A few more minutes won’t make a bit of difference.”

  The captain studied him. “I’ll send my men in to check the school out.”

  “Don’t,” Gannon said. “If this arsonist follows his patterns, there will be a timer on a can of gasoline in the basement rigged to explode.”

  The captain shook his head. “Principal, how many ways are there into the basement? I want to send my men in.”

  Before the principal could answer, a loud explosion radiated from the basement, shaking the building and blowing out several of its windows. The children and teachers screamed and drew back. Within seconds the school was engulfed in flames.

  The principal glanced at the hundreds of children and then at Gannon. His face turned deathly pale. If the children had been inside the building, they would be fighting for their lives. The principal turned and ran toward the teachers, ordering them to get the children away from the school.

  Three shades paler, the captain called the police and reported the explosion as his men scrambled with the hoses. “Don’t leave my sight,” the captain said to Gannon. “You’ve got a hell of a lot to explain.”

  “Whatever you want to know.” Gannon stared at the children. He released his first full breath since he’d opened the note.

  “My God, look at those flames,” Darcy said. “And all those children.”

  Before Gannon could explain, a Washington, D.C., Channel Five news crew pulled into the school parking lot. Immediately, the crews started filming.

  Gannon tensed. The front door of the news van opened and out came Stephen Glass. His blond hair perfect, he wore charcoal suit pants, a blue dress shirt and red tie. Glass walked with the swagger of an athlete.

  It had been a year since Gannon had seen the reporter, but he’d still dearly love to punch him out.

  “Did you call him?” Gannon demanded.

  “No,” Darcy said. She looked as shocked as he felt.

  Glass shrugged on his suit coat and strode over to Gannon. He flashed the million-dollar smile that won him big points during the rating sweeps.

  Darcy turned away from Glass, muttering something about rotten luck and murder. He had only a moment to wonder what her connection to Glass was before the reporter shoved a mike in his face.

  “Michael Gannon. Care to comment on Nero’s latest fire?”

  Struggling with murderous thoughts, Gannon stared at Stephen.

  Stephen kept smiling, seemingly enjoying Gannon’s rage. “How did you get fire crews here so quickly? Did you have prior knowledge of the fire?”

  Gannon said nothing, so Glass shifted his focus to Darcy. In one easy move, Glass moved passed Gannon and gave Darcy a kiss on the lips. “Miss me, gorgeous?”

  Chapter 11

  Stephen tasted of cigarette smoke and stale coffee. She jerked away and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same, Darcy,” Stephen said still grinning.

  Darcy was very aware of Gannon’s gaze on her. “I was here first, Stephen.”

  “I was in Richmond covering a story when I got a call on my cell from Barbara.” Barbara’s office was next to Paul’s. “Barbara heard Paul on the phone talking to you about Nero.”

  Darcy swallowed an oath. She could picture the scene. Paul hadn’t closed his door and Barbara had listened in o
n the conversation. It happened all the time in the newsroom. “So she figured she’d give you a call.”

  He winked. “That’s right. And since I was less than an hour away covering another story, I said I’d stop by. We picked up this fire on the police scanner.”

  Darcy ground her teeth. “This is my story, Stephen.”

  He grinned. “All’s fair in love, war and reporting.”

  Gannon stepped forward. His gaze bore into Stephen. “Friend, Darcy?”

  “We used to be,” Darcy said.

  The heat of the blaze bore down on them. The teachers had already backed the children up across the road so that they were far from the school. More fire trucks were also arriving.

  Stephen grinned liked the Cheshire cat. He knew his arrival had stirred up something and he was enjoying it. “Now, come on babe, it was more than that.”

  Darcy looked at Gannon. “You and I need to talk.”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation.” He turned on his heel and stalked off toward Chief Wheeler who’d just pulled up in his car.

  This wasn’t the best time to discuss old boyfriends, but Darcy owed Gannon an explanation, and he was going to get one whether he wanted it or not. She started after him. She made it five steps before Stephen came up behind her and grabbed her by the arm.

  The bastard was all smiles. “So what’s the scoop here, babe?”

  “Get lost, Stephen.” She saw Gannon disappear into the crowd.

  “Is that all you got to say to me?”

  “Let go of me.” She’d never been angrier. “Or you’ll be singing high notes for the rest of your life.”

  He released her and held up his hands in surrender. “I just figured since we were pals you’d help me out.”

  “Pals?” She nearly choked on the word. “Most of my pals don’t screw me and then dump me for the first available blonde.”

  He winced. “I didn’t dump you.”

  She let her anger bubble to the surface. “Oh, that’s right, you said we were taking a break so you could figure out a few things.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  There’d been a time when she’d thought he was everything she’d been looking for. Sophisticated, funny, charming, he was unlike any man she’d known growing up in Preston Springs. If she’d bothered to look beyond the expensive suits and porcelain teeth, she’d have seen a vain, selfish man. “I’m not going to waste my breath explaining.”