* * *
She’s back by morning, thank God.
Sound asleep in her bed, tucked up in a cozy little ball and so frigging guileless she just left her door open.
Like she doesn’t even realize she’s staying with a grown-ass man who’s dying at the sight of her long, sleek legs poking out from the blankets, or the way she clutches the duvet against her chest in a way that makes her tits nearly burst out of her tank top, one slip of fabric away from pulling a Janet Jackson.
Maybe she realizes and just doesn’t care.
Or maybe she knows it and trusts me not to go insane.
If that’s it, the woman’s too kind.
I’m quiet as I gently pull her door shut, then move through the house to usher Andrea out the door to school with some breakfast before I head to work.
Fire crew stuff, today.
My days are honestly erratic; I do what needs doing. It doesn’t matter if it’s welding or construction or safety inspections.
Just as long as I’m keeping busy and helping somebody out.
This time, it’s the Clarendons, barely a few blocks over from my own house. They’ve got a faulty furnace, and I don’t want them risking a nasty carbon monoxide leak. Good thing they replaced the batteries in their detectors last month, or we could’ve been looking at a tragedy.
They evacuated as soon as the alarm went off and called me in. Luckily, they’ve got family in town to stay with.
It doesn’t take me, Justin, and Rich long to trace the source of the carbon monoxide back to the furnace, though we do a full-house inspection on the ducts to make sure it’s not being funneled anywhere else.
It’s quiet, near-solitary work. We move through the house with our detectors in hand, measuring levels and breathing through oxygen masks.
Then my path crosses Justin’s in the hall.
He’s looking better. A bit brighter, like maybe he’s drinking less and sleeping more.
Good man.
And he actually looks worried about me, as he stops and gives me a long look, brows pinching together above his clear plastic mask.
“Hey, Chief.” His voice filters oddly through the mask, more hollow. “You okay? You’ve been real tense lately.”
“I have? Sorry, just got a lot on my mind.” I pause, pulling my thoughts out of my notes, stopping my pen mid-scratch against my notepad.
“Like Peace?” he teases. “I think everyone tunes into the station just to see if she’ll call in on your nights, now. It’s the town’s favorite show.”
I scowl, my neck heating. “Nope. Not Peace.”
She’s probably still pissed at me anyway.
But Justin’s been on point lately. I’m still trying to make sure he feels included in things, so there’s no harm in telling him when Rich already knows. Another pair of eyes and ears might keep things safer.
I drop my voice, though, stepping closer to him. “Listen, keep this to yourself, but that fire at the fabric shop was set deliberately. And there’ve been a few hints around town of someone trying to start fires and failing. Some asshole leaving nasty notes, too.”
Justin’s eyebrows shoot up. He looks at me in stunned silence.
More than anything, hearing what I just said out loud confirms it for me.
It’s not Clark Patten.
Because Clark does know what he’s doing most of the time.
He wouldn’t fail.
More signs are pointing to Holt.
I sigh. “I can’t pull Langley in on this. Not yet. He’s a wreck with the cases from last year. So I’m just trying to lock it down, keep things safe, and hope I can stop it from happening again.”
Justin whistles softly, his eyes widening. “Chief, that’s fucked. You got any idea who?”
I shake my head.
I have one good guess, and I can’t make myself say it out loud.
So I just shrug. “Local firebug, most likely, but it’s not adding up. So I’m just working the details through. I’ll let you know when I come up with more.”
“Sure thing. I’ll keep an eye out myself and give you a shout if I notice anything funny.” He pauses, then, tapping his pen against his mask. “Hey—we still on for tonight?”
Tonight?
Oh.
Right.
I’d invited him over for dinner.
My own phone saves me from that awkward memory lapse, buzzing in my pocket, and I nod as I fish it out, already turning away.
“We usually sit down around seven,” I say over my shoulder. “Come casual, nothing special. Just hanging out.” Then I swipe my phone, lifting it to my ear and talking awkwardly with it bumping against my mask. “Silverton.”
“Hey, Blake,” Sheriff Langley says. “I just got done talking to that kid. Clark? Whatever happened the other day…he was working at his uncle’s. Got several people to back him up. Why’d you send me after him, anyway?”
“Oh, just making sure he’s safe at the carnival grounds, Sheriff. You know how kids are. I told you about that little dustup. He’s got a smart mouth; I’m just making sure his head’s in the right place with the big event coming up.” I pinch my teeth together, grinding down everything I can’t say.