The Arsonist

by Burton, Mary

  He looked the picture of innocence. “She didn’t mean anything to me.”

  Disgust rose in her throat. “You’re wasting my time.” She started in Gannon’s direction.

  He did his best hurt puppy dog look as he hurried beside her. “God, Darcy. I loved you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” That look would have worked on her two years ago. It didn’t now.

  His eyes hardened when she kept walking. “When did you turn into such a bitch?”

  “Ah, there is the real Stephen.”

  “Okay, so I might have screwed up the thing we had.”

  She clenched her fingers. “Cut the crap, Stephen. You don’t want me, you want an angle on this story.”

  “Baby, I love you.”

  She laughed so hard tears pooled in her eyes.

  Pursing his lips, he seemed to get that his tactics weren’t working. “Is Nero alive or not?” He had to hurry to keep pace with her as she moved around the edge of the crowd. There was no sign of Gannon.

  “How should I know?”

  “Barbara heard everything Paul said.”

  “Yeah, well she got it all wrong. I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “You are a bad liar, Darcy.”

  Gannon was nowhere in sight. Disappointment chewed at her. She’d blown things with him and the thought left her deeply sad. “Sue me.”

  His smile lost its boyish charm and turned menacing. “It doesn’t really matter if he’s alive or not. I really don’t care. But just the idea that he might be will get me a hell of a lot of airtime.”

  Darcy looked at Stephen. In him she saw herself. When she’d arrived in Preston Springs, Nero had been no more than a story. She wasn’t as concerned about lives as headlines. No wonder Gannon had been so angry when he found out she was a reporter.

  As the sirens blared, school buses arrived to take the children away. She thought about all the children who could have died today.

  Nero was more than a headline.

  He was a psychopath who needed to be stopped.

  “Hell, I bet I could even spin the story to suggest that our Mr. Gannon is Nero. I mean who knew the fires better than him? Maybe he’s orchestrated all this so that he can get himself back in the limelight.”

  Darcy stopped in her tracks. God, she’d had the same theories about Gannon. “Do you know how many children could have died today if he hadn’t been here?”

  “The more casualties the better the ratings.”

  Stephen made her physically sick. “You are a real bastard, Stephen.”

  He shrugged casually. “We’ve all got our crosses to bear.”

  Slowly she unclenched her fingers. “Leave Gannon out of this.”

  Surprise flickered in his eyes before they narrowed. “You got a thing going with the arson investigator?” He touched her shirt, which she realized was inside out. She’d dressed so quickly when Gannon had arrived she’d never bothered to check.

  “You guys having a little fun this morning?”

  She smacked his hand away. “Drop dead.”

  Darcy thankfully didn’t have to walk the two miles back to the Varsity in flip-flops. Gannon had asked one of the policemen to give her a ride, which she’d gratefully accepted.

  When she arrived at the tavern, George was in the kitchen standing over a pot of stew. “Your mother and brother aren’t here.”

  A headache pounded in the back of her skull. “Where are they?”

  “Trevor is out, like always. And your mother is upstairs with a sick headache. She says you can run the register tonight.” Her mother always got sick headaches when things had been especially bad with her father.

  An oppressive weight bore down on her chest. She was drowning in her family’s problems. “Me? I haven’t run the register in ten years.”

  He shrugged his thick shoulders as he stuffed sage and garlic in a chicken. “I am just the cook.”

  “Yeah, and I’m just the dumb sap who didn’t have the sense to stay away from home.”

  He grimaced. “So are you going to run the register or not?”

  Before she could answer, the sound of a motorcycle engine roared down the alleyway. “George, how about you take the rest of the day off?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve already made the salads and the stews.”

  She had more important things to handle than the cash register. “Will they keep until tomorrow?”

  “Sure.”

  “Then wrap it all up and take the rest of the day off.”

  He lifted a bushy brow. “I can’t afford to go without pay.”

  “Consider tonight a paid vacation.” Last night they’d taken in enough money to keep the place afloat another week. She’d locked the money in the trunk of her car with the intent of opening another tavern account. However, when she’d arrived, she began to have doubts. Last night, she’d half thought she could fix her mixed-up family and maybe save the tavern. But as she looked around the kitchen and saw how much needed to be done, she wasn’t so sure all this was salvageable.

  But she could make things right with Gannon.

  And that’s exactly what she intended to do right now.

  Gannon’s nerves danced with anger and frustration as he stared at the open case file on his desk. He needed to reread his old notes and look for similarities. But each time his mind got a hold of a sentence, he thought of Darcy.

  Damn.

  Darcy and Stephen.

  It wouldn’t surprise him if the two had been working together all along. It would be Glass’s style to send in his girlfriend to do his dirty work. Gannon chaulked up this mistake to a libido that had gone far too long without servicing.

  There was a knock at the door. He cursed it and then ignored it.

  “I know you are in there,” Darcy shouted. “I saw you go in.”

  He flipped a page in the file and tried to concentrate on another. “Get lost.”

  “Sorry, no can do. I’m going to stay out here until you answer.” He imagined her eyes blazing.

  He could be stubborn, too. “You’re going to get very tired then.”

  “No chance. I closed the restaurant for the day so the way I figure it I got all the time in the world to sit on your doorstep and harp.”

  He would block her out. Concentrate. He needed to concentrate.

  “I’m still here,” she said. “Still, waiting.”

  Gannon smacked his hands on the table, got up and crossed the room. He yanked open the door. She stood there, leaning against the doorjamb. She was smiling, without the least bit of repentance in her eyes.

  Her arms were crossed accentuating full breasts under the T-shirt. Her shirt was still inside out. “Your shirt is still inside out.”

  She glanced down at the raw seam. “So it is.”

  “What do you want?”

  “You and I need to talk.”

  “Did your boyfriend send you here to pump me for more information?”

  “Stephen was my boyfriend. Past tense. Believe me, he is the last person I wanted to see ride into town today—or any other day. The editor I called left his door open. Another reporter overheard the conversation and tipped Stephen off.”

  “Some friend.”

  “The D.C. reporting waters are full of sharks.” Her eyes clouded with sadness and for a moment he almost invited her in. Almost.

  “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Stephen. I knew you didn’t like him.”

  A stray curl fell in the center of her forehead and he had the urge to brush it away.

  “Despise might be a better word.”

  “Believe me, I know he can be a real jerk.”

  If she was lying, she was an excellent actress. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

  “Can I come in?”

  She leaned forward. Her nipples pressed against her shirt and every sane thought in his head vanished. “Sure.” His voice sounded ragged.

  He summoned enough brain cells to step aside
so she could enter his apartment. She turned and faced him and the light from the window behind her caught the highlights in her hair. He thought about the bed in his room, sheets rumpled. He wanted to see her on those sheets now, naked. He stepped toward her. If he had the sense God gave a tree stump he’d cut her loose now. She was trouble. He didn’t need to be a part of her career breakthrough or her family problems.

  “I still want to help you catch Nero,” she said. “In fact, after that school fire, I want to catch him more than ever.”

  “Nero is still one good story.” Bitterness dripped from each word.

  “I don’t care about the story anymore. This is bigger than a byline.” Her voice sounded rusty, full of emotion.

  “I could almost believe you.”

  Her lips were so full. They’d tasted so good. He shoved out a breath, stepped aside and let her into his apartment. He wanted her. There was no denying that. But sex with Darcy wouldn’t be about love or commitment. It would be about need.

  And maybe if he said that a few hundred times more he’d believe it.

  She walked past him. Her gaze settled on the case files. “Did you find anything to help?”

  “No. I know every detail by heart.”

  She faced him. “When do you think Nero will set another fire?”

  “He’s going to lay low for at least the rest of today, maybe even tomorrow. But he’s moving much faster than I ever realized he would.”

  “How do you know?”

  God, but he was so tired of Nero running his life. He didn’t want to think about death, arson or destruction. He wanted to feel alive, if only for a couple of hours. “He’ll be frustrated that today didn’t go like he wanted. He’ll need to regroup.”

  Worry lines deepened his brow. “Stephen thinks you could be Nero.”

  He moved closer. They were only six inches apart and he could feel the heat from her body and smell the smoke clinging to her hair. “Do you?”

  She didn’t speak for a moment. “At first I wasn’t sure. The fires followed you here.”

  He refused to defend or justify. “And now?”

  A heavy silence hung between them for a moment. “You’re not Nero.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  She met his direct gaze. “Yes.”

  Gannon wanted to be inside Darcy. He wanted to feel her naked breasts pressed against his chest. “I don’t want to talk about the fires right now.”

  Something in his voice had her eyes darkening. Her cheeks flushed. “I thought we decided that wasn’t very professional.”

  He laid his hand on her shoulder. Her skin was like spun silk. “You’re right, it’s not.”

  She moistened her lips. “I should leave.” But she stood rooted in her spot.

  “You could.” If she stayed, he wanted her to want this as much as he did. “Or you could stay.” He captured the hem of her shirt. “And turn that shirt around.”

  Her fingers brushed his as she took hold of the hem. For a moment, she hesitated, as if warring inside herself. Then she grabbed hold of the fabric and pulled the shirt over her head. Slowly, she let the shirt fall to the floor.

  His breath caught in his throat as he stared at her. Creamy, full breasts crowned a lacy bra. He leaned forward and kissed her, praying he had the strength to make this moment last.

  As their lips touched, a soft mew formed in her throat. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His erection pressed against the fabric of her pants as his hand came up to cup her breast.

  Her hands slid down his back and over his buttocks. She squeezed pressing him against her.

  He broke the kiss but instead of speaking, he took her by the hand and pulled her toward his bed.

  She didn’t seem to notice. Again, she kissed him. Again, he prayed he didn’t explode. He broke the kiss long enough to take off his own shirt. She kicked off her flip-flops.

  Gannon reached for the clasp of her bra; undid it. He sucked in a breath as he stared at taut, pink nipples. His hands slid to the cotton waistband of her pants and undid the one button then gingerly eased the zipper down. He slid his hand under the pink cotton panties and cupped her tight buttocks then pulled it all off her.

  Having her naked next to him shattered his willpower. He’d like to have taken it slowly, but his patience snapped.

  Kissing her, he eased her back until she sat down on the edge of the bed. She scooted back toward the middle, her gaze locked on him.

  He ditched his pants and came down on top of her covering her naked body with his. She opened her legs slightly, letting his erection press against her center. He kissed the hollow of her neck and then her taut nipple. He suckled one as he cupped the other.

  Darcy arched, pressing her body against his. He snaked his hand down her belly to her moist center. He touched her and she hissed a breath between her teeth. “Unless you want this over before it starts, slow down, cowboy. I’m about ready to explode as is.”

  “Join the club.” He had enough sense to reach into his nightstand for condoms. God knew how old the damn things were. Ripping open the foil package, he said a silent prayer of thanks that it hadn’t rotted in the package. He slipped it over his erection.

  Darcy opened her legs, rubbing her hands up his thigh. He pushed into her and she tightened around him.

  Gannon’s sliver of control vanished and he began to move inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper.

  He reached for her center and began to rub. Immediately, her body tensed and within seconds she dropped her head back, her body rigid with her climax.

  The sight of her sent Gannon over the edge. He exploded inside of her and collapsed against her.

  They lay there for several moments before he rolled off her. His eyes closed, savoring the total relaxation and sense of peace, knowing full well neither would last.

  Darcy felt limp and knew she couldn’t stand right now even if someone were ready to pay her ten thousand dollars. She’d never felt such a sense of completeness, such serenity.

  Gannon sat up in bed. “I’ve water or soda in the fridge if you’re thirsty.”

  “Soda.”

  “Be right back.”

  He rose from the bed, pulled on his jeans and left the room. Soda or water. Hardly romantic but then she’d be just a little foolish to expect any endearments from Gannon. They’d known each other, what, three days?

  She rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow that still held his scent. She could count on one hand the number of men she’d slept with and all the others had had to work hard to win her.

  But Gannon had looked at her and she’d fallen into bed with him.

  When she heard his footsteps, she rolled back over and grabbed a sheet. Stupid to worry about modesty now, but without the desire pumping in her blood she felt exposed.

  He came in the room. He wore only his jeans, his bare feet peeking out from the frayed hem. His chest was covered in a thick mat of hair that tapered all the way down over his flat belly to his jeans.

  Her blood started to pump harder and she found herself wanting him all over again.

  His fingers brushed hers as he handed her the soda. She drank it, praying the cold liquid would clear her mind. It tasted good, quenched her thirst but didn’t cool her desire.

  She rose up on her knees, letting the sheet drop, and looked up at him. His gaze was locked on hers. His breathing had grown shallow and if she didn’t miss her guess, he had another erection. She took his soda from him, placed both on the nightstand and moved to him on her knees.

  Kissing his flat belly, she let her hands wander down to the snap on his pants. She unfastened them and slid her hands inside.

  A sigh shuddered through Gannon and he fell down on top of her, trapping her under his body. She let herself go to the sensations.

  Nero struck a match and let it drop to the ground at his feet. He watched the flame dance and flicker out.

  He lit another match.
r />   Then another.

  He was frustrated, angry and oddly very pleased with Gannon. He was a worthy opponent. The game was more interesting than he’d ever imagined.

  Gannon had won today’s battle, but later tonight he wouldn’t be so lucky.

  At first he’d been enraged to see Gannon and that woman show up at the school. When the fire alarm had blared, he’d nearly run from his hiding place in a fit of anger.

  But he hadn’t. He’d kept his composure.

  In retrospect, he realized the courier must have arrived earlier than he was supposed to.

  No wonder America was going to hell in a hand-basket. Even couriers couldn’t carry out simple instructions.

  But later tonight there would be no lucky breaks. He would handle all the details himself.

  Nothing was going to stop his next fire.

  Nothing.

  Chapter 12

  Darcy woke with a start. The room was no longer bright but bathed in shadows. For an instant she wasn’t sure where she was. And she didn’t care. She felt wonderfully relaxed and more at peace than she had in years.

  And then she remembered the afternoon she’d spent with Gannon.

  She sat up in bed, shoving her curly hair out of her eyes. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she clicked on a nightstand light. An alarm clock read six-twelve. She’d slept the afternoon away.

  Gannon wasn’t in bed with her. Her gaze darted around the room. “Gannon?”

  No answer.

  He was gone.

  “Great. Just great.” He’d risen and left, no doubt hoping she’d be gone when he returned.

  Worry and irritation replaced the peace. “I shouldn’t have slept with him.” There was so much riding on catching Nero and she’d wasted the afternoon in bed with Gannon. No doubt Gannon had recognized their mistake as well. “Nice going, Darcy.”

  Glancing at her naked body, she groaned. Clothes. She needed clothes. She spotted her top on the floor and had to root in the sheets for her bra and pants with her cell phone still attached.