“It’s more than not approving.” Brooke scrubbed her face with her hands. She knew she made little sense. Well, she made some sense, but she hadn’t sorted it all out yet.
“Okay.” Charlie slapped her hands on Brooke’s thighs. “He doesn’t approve. He has his doubts, but he supports you. Your words, not mine. You heard yourself say that, right?”
Brooke nodded. “I think so.”
“He’s the perfect man. It’s the support that matters. You’re not always going to agree with your friends, your boyfriend, your significant other, but you can still support each other. Sounds like your man is doing just that.”
“The fire is too convenient.”
“You don’t think he set it, do you?”
“No. But it makes him... somewhat right. I feel like he’s looking at me saying, I told you so.”
“You’re scared.”
“Of course, I am.” She stood, taking her bagel with her, and dumped it in the trash. “I’ve got a Peeping Tom and a possible arsonist. Yeah, I’m scared.”
“Yet you’re more scared of the feelings you have for Drew.”
Instead of answering, Brooke refilled her coffee cup and added a splash of creamer. She sipped her brew and mulled over Charlie’s words.
She was definitely scared of her feelings. It was why she didn’t want to sleep with him. They moved too fast. Barely friends two weeks ago, dinner dates last week, and now she was part of his family, joining in on inside jokes and sleeping with Drew with his family under the same roof.
As if overnight, she’d become part of his family and other than her sister-friendships, they accepted her for the first time in her life. By a man and his family. She never knew how insecure she was until her life started coming together.
She had a purpose, not only with a career but with a boyfriend as well. And she threw it away because it scared her. Scared she could lose it all. Scared he’d realize she wasn’t worth it. Scared he made the offer out of kindness and not love... and he would later regret it.
Why her? Drew had so much to offer, yet he chose her. It didn’t make sense. Instead of waiting for him to realize his mistake, she threw it all away.
Or had she? He was right behind her when she rushed to the fire. He came back last night to check on her and offer his home as a place to stay, not requiring her to stay with him. Hell, he hadn’t even mentioned it, just assumed she’d want to stay as far away as possible when in reality, she wanted to be by his side. To wake up in his arms. To find comfort in his words and his touch.
“I’m emotionally ignorant.” Brooke returned to the stool and dropped her head on the counter. “I pushed him away.”
“Doesn’t look like you pushed too hard. He came back for you last night and offered you a place to stay.”
“Because he’s a gentleman.” She lifted her head and sipped at her coffee again. “He’d do the same for anyone. That’s who he is. It doesn’t mean he... cares.” And he could still regret it when the dust settled.
“I beg to differ.”
“You don’t know him, Charlie. He’d offer the shirt off his back for anyone.”
“That’s a sight I’d like to see.”
Ignoring her joke, Brooke continued with her depressing thoughts, “What if I agree to stay with him and then somewhere down the road, he regrets his offer? I’ll never know because he’s too polite to kick me out. I don’t want to be...” Like her mom.
Needy, desperate for Ike’s attention any way she could get it, and too blind to see he wanted nothing to do with her. Hell, she’d even given Brooke his last name when he wanted nothing to do with his illegitimate child. She’d held onto hope for too long and it’s what ultimately killed her.
It may have been her ill health and the chain smoking, but Brooke bet her mother would have taken better care of herself if she hadn’t been so caught up in everything Ike—so depressed that he never stopped by, sent a card, or even called, not even when Brooke was born.
This she had learned from her grandmother, who had no problem telling Brooke how unwanted she was by the douchebag sperm donor.
She refused to become an empty shell of a woman as her mom had, all because of a man. She knew when to let go. In the long run, Drew would be grateful she hadn’t accepted his offer and trapped him into a commitment he didn’t want.
He was the complete opposite of Ike in that realm. Ike turned on his responsibilities, not caring who he hurt, while Drew would take on responsibilities that didn’t belong to him out of the kindness of his heart.
Either way, Brooke knew better than to accept the offer.
“Okay, let’s do this.” Charlie took Brooke’s hands and pulled her to her feet. “We get dressed and see if the fire chief and detective guys are at the camp. Then we make the calls to the contractors and see about rebuilding. Tonight, you and lover boy can rekindle whatever it is you think you eff’d up.”
“Yes, to the first part. It’s too much to deal with Drew right now. I need to get the camp straightened out first.”
“If you insist. I’m betting he’ll keep your side of the bed warm for you tonight. Or at least offer the guest rooms downstairs again.”
“You’re staying another night, right?”
“I wish.” Charlie picked up their coffee cups and brought them to the sink. “I have an early shift tomorrow and couldn’t find anyone to cover for me.”
“Thank you for coming last night. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“Sure you do. You’re the strongest, bravest person I know. Don’t be afraid to let your guard down every now and then and accept help from others, though. It doesn’t make you a weak person.”
Charlie gave her a quick hug before they went downstairs to change and face the challenges of another day.
When they pulled into the camp, there were two trucks, one police car, and what appeared to be an unmarked police car. Brooke jumped out of Charlie’s vehicle before it was in park and jogged over to the crew of workers by the back door of the rec hall.
The only one she recognized was Chief Gordon from yesterday.
“Any news or leads on what had caused the fire?” she asked him.
“Miss Ross.” He tapped the bill of his baseball cap at her and Charlie in greeting. “Bryce Cambridge is inside now taking pictures and samples. He’s the best in the county, maybe even the state. Seems to think it was an amateur job, like I predicted.”
“Gordon?” A tall man poked his head out from where the door used to be. “I’m ready to wrap up in here.”
“Excuse me,” the chief said to her and worked his way over the rubble and into the building.
“Think they’ll let us in there?” Charlie leaned over the yellow caution tape. “The big guy’s hot.”
“Seriously? Since when did you turn into a horndog?”
“I wouldn’t call myself a horndog. It’s not often a good-looking man shows himself. You’ve got the writer; I’ll take the fire guy.”
“One thing’s for sure, you have a knack for taking my mind off the stress and destruction all around me.”
“Aw. I love you, too.” Charlie bumped her hip into Brooke’s.
“Miss Ross,” Gordon said as he carefully hopped out of the building, the steps nothing but burnt ash. “This is Bryce Cambridge. I’m going to direct your questions to him. I’ve got to answer a call down at the hardware store.”
The chief left and Cambridge’s long legs stepped down to the ground. He held out his hand and looked from Brooke to Charlie.
“I’m Brooke Ross, I own the camp. This is one of my business partners, Charlotte Kellar.” She shook his hand. “Do you have any idea how the fire started?”
“I do.” He tucked a clipboard under his arm and clipped some sort of device to his belt. “They used an accelerant on the steps and throughout the building. Most of it was in the kitchen. There’s a great deal of smoke and water damage throughout the rest of the building. Unfortunately, your kitchen is
a total loss.”
“We just finished updating it.” Charlie punched her thigh with her fist.
“You’re sure it wasn’t faulty wiring? We had an electrician and plumber in here last week.”
“The wiring wasn’t at fault.”
“The fire was set?”
“I’m afraid so. On a positive note, I don’t think it will take long to find whoever was responsible.”
“You have more evidence?” Brooke didn’t know if she cared more about rebuilding or finding who was responsible.
“My crew found a gasoline container tossed in the woods not far from here. Chances are it was used to set the fire. It was a sloppy job, which means we may be able to pull prints from the handle.”
“I saw a movie once where the police looked at surveillance cameras from nearby gas stations and could see the criminal filling up a tank,” Charlie said.
“We can do a similar investigation if we don’t get prints. The tank is an old steel container, not the usual red plastic we see. Here’s my number.” He handed Brooke a business card, and she tucked it into her pocket. “I have your number from the police reports. I’ll contact you when we have more information. In the meantime, you’ll need to stay clear of the building until we can get a building inspector out here. It may take a few days.”
“Sure.” She tapped the card against her palm. “In your opinion, will this building need to be torn down or is any of it salvageable?”
He twitched his nose and slowly shook his head. “That’s not my area of expertise. Fortunately, the 9-1-1 call came in early, and the fire department isn’t far away. The perp didn’t use an accelerant in the back of the building, otherwise I’d say it’s a total loss. You might only need to demolish the front end. Although, structurally, I’m not sure if that’s possible. Again, you’ll need to get a professional’s opinion. I can give you some names of local contractors if you need one.”
“I have one, thank you.”
Cambridge nodded to her and Charlie. “Call me if you come across anything suspicious.” With that, he left.
“Why would someone want to burn down the rec hall? I don’t get it.” Brooke stormed off toward the pond and stopped at the edge of the dock.
Being out on the water gave her a sense of peace. There were a few boats puttering along, a few stopped to gawk at the burnt buildings, and there were some children out for a morning swim across the pond. Tiny ripples of current beat against the shore in a rhythmic, soothing motion.
With her back to the destruction behind her, she could almost pretend it hadn’t happened. Only it had. And someone had gone out of their way to destroy her camp. A fire burned inside her again.
Whirling around, she nearly knocked Charlie into the water.
“Easy.” Charlie steadied herself and held on to Brooke. “I need to get back to Portland, but I hate to leave you alone. Not when you’re like this.”
“Like what?” She grew defensive. The last thing she wanted was to be helpless, to need to be taken care of... to be a burden. “I’m fine.”
“I know you well enough to not comment on that. I’m going back to Drew’s to grab my stuff. I’ll check on you tonight.” She gave her a long hug and Brooke held back the tears that threatened to spill.
“I’ll go with you. I need to get my stuff as well.”
“You should stay there until it’s safe to come back here.”
Brooke shook her head. “I’m not depending on Drew to take care of me. I was absolutely fine out here on my own until...”
Swallowing back her words, her fear, she headed toward the path, needing the walk to cool herself down. The crunch of twigs and leaves behind her told her Charlie had followed.
When they reached the clearing, she heard deep voices coming from the front of Drew’s house. The same truck that was parked at the camp earlier sat in his driveway.
Cambridge and another man stood on the front porch talking to Drew. As she approached them, she heard the other man ask a question.
“You sure you don’t know how long it’s been missing?” He held out a piece of paper to Drew.
“I used it a few days ago to fill up the lawn mower.”
“What’s going on?” Brooke asked, her arms crossed tightly in front of her.
Cambridge looked from Drew to Brooke. “How do you two know each other?”
“He’s...” She didn’t know how to explain it. Friend? Former lover? Neighbor?
“She’s a good friend,” Drew responded.
Charlie, always affectionate, put her arm around Brooke’s waist and drew her into her side. Support. Her sisters were always there for her in good times and in bad. This was bad. Really bad, by the look on the detective’s face.
“I’m Detective Flannery and this is Arson Specialist Cambridge.”
“We met.”
“She’s the camp owner,” Cambridge said.
The older detective scrutinized her before holding out a picture. “Have you seen this before?”
It looked like an old, rusted, dented gas can, and it should have been thrown out ages ago. “No.” And then realization set in. “Is that... is that what was used to set the fire?” She stiffened, her toes curling into her combat boots.
“I’ll have confirmation by this afternoon, but my gut says yes. We found it in the woods close to the scene,” the detective said.
It was all too much. Drew had left the bed early yesterday morning, supposedly to go for a run.
He didn’t want the camp to open.
He didn’t want her staying in the cabins.
He was the first to spot the fire, early, according to the fire chief, and had called it in. To assuage his guilt, most likely.
The gas can used to start the fire came from his property.
Brooke gasped and stumbled backward. She opened her mouth to curse him, to curse the world, but no words would come out. Her stomach clenched, then convulsed in pain. Again, she gasped for air, for answers, for life, then spun around and ran.
Ran from the pain.
Ran from the fear.
Ran from what she didn’t want to believe.
All the emotions from the past twenty-four hours came crashing down on her. “Why?” she cried out, circling each cabin, looking for what, she didn’t know. “How could he do this?” She picked up a stick and hurled it against a tree, finding no satisfaction when it snapped and fell to the ground.
Rage and fury boiled in her veins. Anger swirled in her head, clouding her from hearing or seeing anything clearly. Picking up the loose rocks by her feet, she hurled them at the pile of rubble that used to be the Allagash cabin.
Again and again, she picked up anything she could find—rocks, acorns, sticks—and threw them until her arm ached.
When there was nothing left at her feet to pick up, she dropped to the ground, hugged her knees close to her chest, and cried.
Charlie joined her on the dirt and wrapped her in a hug. “Let it all out, Brooke. Don’t hold back.”
Letting it all out was new to her. The most painful moments in her life happened between the ages of ten and eighteen, and she had no one to hug her, hold her, comfort her. To tell her it was okay to cry. Being strong was all she had, all she could do, all she could be.
The tears didn’t stop. Her body was stronger than her mind and wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how hard she tried to make it stop. Words wouldn’t form; anytime she opened her mouth, inhuman noises came out, and she cried harder. Her stomach ached as if someone had reached deep inside her core and ripped out her insides. Her heart. Her soul.
Her body was numb from pain. From hurt. From betrayal.
She cried because she was crying and didn’t stop until her eyes dried out. Her body hadn’t received the message that she was cried out, and continued to convulse, even when the tears had stopped. And throughout the mess, Charlie held her, never saying a word.
This was friendship. Sisterhood. It wasn’t only about sharing the good times, but t
he bad as well. She felt no judgment from Charlie. No pity. No reprimands for not being strong enough.
Wiping her nose on her shoulder, Brooke finally lifted her head and sniffed. “I’m a mess.”
“You should see Fish when she cries. Downright scary.”
Only Charlie could bring a smile to her lips in such a dire moment. “It’s because she’s so pretty. Ugly crying doesn’t look good on her. This mug can handle it, I suppose.”
“You’re gorgeous.” Charlie rested her head on Brooke’s shoulder. “It’s your eyesight that sucks. You’ve got the Wonder Woman Amazon thing going for you, and that’s sexy as hell.”
“I’m a far cry from Wonder Woman.”
“I disagree. I could totally see you as one of those warrior women.”
“Only if warrior women were known for crying on the ground covered in snot and tears and being as useless as a pet rock.”
“I think many geologists would disagree with you.”
“You’re an idiot.” An idiot who could make Brooke laugh in the worst of times. “You should get going. The last thing I need is you getting your ass fired and blaming it on me.”
“I’m staying.”
“No, you’re not.” She pushed to her feet and brushed dirt and pine needles off her butt and hands. “You’re going back to work, and I’m going to stand tall and face this shitstorm head-on. If Drew did this—”
“You don’t really think he had anything to do with the fire, do you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to believe it.” Her heart said no, but she couldn’t shake the evidence. “I can’t imagine him being so... I can’t see him setting fire to the place, but it houses a lot of ghosts for him. He has a bad history with the camp.”
“And yet he waited until now to burn it?”
“It’s been vacant for seventeen years. There was no threat of it opening, so he let it be.”
“He’d have to be some kind of psychopath or sociopath or whatever they’re called.”
“Like the characters in his books.” Brooke shivered despite the warm summer day. Could he really be leading two lives?
“I don’t know him well enough to make that judgment call, but I don’t see it. It crushed him to see you doubt him.”
Ten Million Fireflies (Band of Sisters) Page 21
