Firefly Mountain (18 page)

“That could be a lot of people,” Mason said.

“Most likely a woman, though.” Patrick wrote that down too when Mason nodded his agreement.

“Is there a mental hospital nearby?” Patrick asked. “Most arsonists, especially ones that get cute with a theme like the candles, have psychological problems. You could check to see if someone has been released locally. I don’t know.” Patrick shrugged. “It’s an avenue to explore while we wait.”

“Wait for another fire.” Mason looked at Patrick.

“Unfortunately, yes. So far, this arsonist doesn’t seem to be targeting people. She is looking for a good burn. I’d be willing to bet she’s watching as we respond to the blaze.” Patrick wrote this down too and closed the folder.

“Next major fire call you guys get,” Mason said, “call me. I’ll get some men down to the scene right away to scout. That’ll be their only job. Maybe we can find some persons of interest.”

“It’s the best we can do for now.”

Mason grabbed his own envelope of photos and stood. “On another topic, does Raina like horses? I was thinking of taking her to Gini’s for some horseback riding Wednesday night. Think she’d like that?”

“I know she would. Gini wouldn’t mind?” Again, though Gini had said she and Mason never dated, Patrick wondered how deep their relationship actually went.

“Nah.” Mason waved a hand. “I was with Gini when she bought Nyx, and I bought Moon for her because I lost a bet.”

“A bet?” Patrick didn’t like that he was relieved by what Mason was saying. He shouldn’t care why this guy bought a horse for Gini. Shouldn’t concern him in the least. But damn, it did.

“When we were in high school, the three of us used to go camping in the woods around Gini and Jonah’s grandmother’s place.”

“Where Gini lives now?” Patrick asked.

Mason nodded. “It wasn’t such a big farm then. More like untamed forest. Well, one night while making our s’mores around a campfire, we decided to predict what we’d be when we grew up. Jonah and Gini knew right away they’d be firefighter and photographer, respectively. I, on the other hand, had no idea what I wanted to be.

“So Gini tells me I’m going to be a cop. I completely disagree with her. I mean, we were like fifteen years old. Who knew how things would turn out? No one in my family was a cop. I didn’t know any cops. I had zero interest in law enforcement.” Mason smirked. “So on the day I graduated from the police academy, she raced down to me from the bleachers where she’d watched the ceremony and shouted my name. When I caught up to her, she gave me this huge congratulatory hug and then whispered in my ear, ‘You owe me a horse, Officer Rivers.’

“That weekend, she took me to an auction and picked out Moon. Technically, that horse’s name is Moon Rivers.” Mason shrugged. “Anyway, Gini lets me ride Moon whenever I want.” Mason followed Patrick out of the classroom. “What about you?”

“Do I ride?”

“No. You and Gini. You like her, don’t you?”

Patrick stopped walking, panic weighing heavily in his chest. “Sure,” he said, his voice strangled. “Gini’s nice.”

“Remember, I’m a cop. I can smell a lie.”

“Look,” Patrick started, “I didn’t move to Vermont to find a woman and settle down. Not my life plan. I put out fires. I build stuff. That’s all I need.”

****

The barn display had been lovely. Just lovely. The smell of old, seasoned wood burning was much better than the newer wood on modern houses. Something to consider for future events. Scent was so much a part of the overall experience. Fire could be enjoyed by so many of the senses. That’s what made it such a joy, such a pleasure to create. Not only was its red-orange glow a thing of pure beauty, but the fragrance of destruction filling the air, the heat of the burn prickling skin, and the roar of flames consuming everything in range gave her a sensory thrill beyond anything she’d known in her life.

Fire was her art, her craft, her calling. Her friend. The only one she had. The only one who truly understood her needs, her impulses, her secrets. She trusted fire. It never let her down. Never cast her aside. Never abandoned her when she was at her most fragile. It whispered words of comfort and wisdom as it rolled wherever she led it, eating its fuel with an insatiable hunger. It burned for her, to please her, to protect her, to thank her for releasing it.

And she had to release it. She’d tried not to, but that had made her sick, made her taste death. She couldn’t live without the anticipation of the next blaze, the planning, the waiting, the executing. Without fire, she would shrivel and die.

The next fire had been organized. A destination picked. A time decided. A candle made. She was already feeling the thrill of seeing this one blossom. Her body grew moist, small shudders of delight echoing in her depths as the fire climbed in her mind’s eye. Watching the real thing would send her body over the edge to blissful satisfaction. She would be complete when the flames soared and devoured.

Such a shame the fires could not burn eternally, could not reach from the molten floors of Hell and rip into the pristine white walls of Heaven. With the fan of angel wings, her fires could grab God himself by the neck and show him what it really meant to be divine.

****

Patrick hugged a sharp corner on his way to Jonah’s. The Mustang kissed the road, her tires grabbing asphalt and not letting go. Even on the dirt roads, the vehicle flew through the dust as if nothing could ruin its dance with the street.

The leather bucket seats molded to Patrick’s backside, and he’d had to hold back a moan as he sat behind the wheel. The top was down so Patrick left it that way. Late afternoon air, Vermont cooled and pine-scented, rushed into the car and did wonders to clear Patrick’s mind. He could finally breathe.

Things were definitely rolling along a little too quickly for him in Burnam. His job had been kicked up a notch with the arson cases. He was further along in his house plans thanks to Jonah and company. He had been out socially and considered Jonah and Mason friends. He’d cooked dinner for a sexy, intelligent woman.

He’d kissed a sexy, intelligent woman.

Patrick shook his head as he turned onto Jonah’s street. He’d have to slow things down. Get back to a schedule that was familiar to him. He didn’t mind the amped up work-related things, but he wanted to take his time with everything else. Remodeling his house was something to savor and think about, not rush through just to get it done.

And the social stuff? He didn’t exactly have a roadmap for that area, but keeping gatherings to a minimum seemed like a comfortable plan. The less he allowed his circle to expand, the better he could protect himself.

As far as Gini went, Patrick hadn’t expected to encounter someone like her in Vermont, or anywhere else for that matter. He’d made the decision a long time ago to walk through this life alone. Any other option opened the door to scaring a woman away again and getting himself hurt.

The Mustang galloped up a steady incline with unexpected muscle for a car of its size. He pulled into Jonah’s driveway and parked between Haddy’s car and a small pickup truck. Wishing he didn’t need to go in to return the keys or have someone give him a ride back to the station, Patrick sat in the Mustang for a few extra minutes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so out of sorts.

Actually, he could, but he didn’t want to. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about his last visit with Julianne before leaving Rhode Island.

He pushed thoughts of his sister to the back of his mind and opened the car door. As Patrick made his way to the front of Jonah’s house, laughter floated out the open screen door. Happy and carefree, the sound plucked at something inside Patrick and dammit, why was the next thought to enter his mind about Gini?

“Get control, man.” He made a fist and rapped his knuckles on the door.

Haddy appeared on the other side of the screen door. “Hiya, Patrick.” The smile on her face caused one to sprout on Patrick’s. He didn’t have to think about making the muscles of his face allow a smile. It just happened. What was with these people? So happy all the time and able to spread the warm, fuzzy feelings around. Patrick wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“Hey, Haddy.” Patrick stepped into the house as Haddy held open the screen door. “I brought Jonah’s car back.” He dropped the keys into her hand.

“Thanks. He was getting itchy knowing it was at the station without him.”

“I can see why,” Patrick said. “Driving it is an experience.”

“You sound like Jonah. To me, it’s just a car. Gets you from A to B. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Guess it’s a Y-chromosome thing.”

“Has to be, because I don’t get it.” Haddy shook her head. “C’mon. Jonah’s in the living room with his parents. I’ll get you a drink.”

She ushered him toward the living room before he had a chance to decline the drink. A visit was mandatory it seemed.

“Why hello, Patrick,” Jonah’s mother said as soon as she saw him round the corner into the living room.

“Mrs. Claremont. Good to see you.” Patrick nodded to her.

“Call me Liz, please. C’mon in and have a seat.” She patted the cushion beside her on the sofa.

The look on Jonah’s face—a look that said, “Please, rescue me”—propelled Patrick into a walk. As he lowered to sit next to Liz, Walter studied him from a rocking chair across the room. Jonah fidgeted in a puffy recliner perpendicular to the couch.

“How are you doing?” Patrick asked.

“He’s having a little trouble getting comfortable,” Liz answered.

Jonah flopped his good hand toward his mother and rolled his eyes. Patrick had to fight to keep from laughing. Luckily, Haddy came in with a drink, which Patrick used to occupy his mouth.

“I told him it’s going to take some time. He’s got to be patient.” Liz reached over to the recliner to pat her son’s knee, and Jonah smiled at her. She may have been driving him crazy, but Jonah was lucky to have his mother around to drive him crazy. Patrick would totally switch places with Jonah even if it meant a busted collarbone at the moment.

“Meanwhile, the department is down a firefighter,” Walter said. “You capable of doing the work of two men, Patrick?”

“Pop—” Jonah warned.

“I’m just wondering. They’re going to feel your absence, son. You’re a good fighter.” Walter folded his arms across his chest and steadied his gaze on Patrick.

“I work hard, sir.” Patrick wasn’t sure why he felt the need to defend himself to Walter. Something in the older man’s eyes made him want to be considered worthy. Worthy of what? Acceptance? Praise?

Gini?

Patrick took another sip of lemonade and turned his attention to Jonah, who was shifting in the chair. Haddy got up from the sofa and grabbed one of the pillows beside her. Gently, she eased Jonah forward and positioned the pillow so it rested behind the hollow of his neck. She fluffed the pillow, and Jonah caught her arm as she walked away. Haddy stopped, and Jonah pulled her hand up to his lips. He brushed a kiss to the back of her hand then released her.

“Thanks, Haddy.”

Haddy grinned and sat back on the couch.

“Such a nice girl.” Liz reached around Patrick to rest a hand on Haddy’s forearm. “Now if I could find a nice boy for my Gini.” She grinned at Patrick and all the oxygen in the room disappeared.

“Ma,” Jonah said. “Patrick’s in denial. He likes Gini, but isn’t quite sure what to do about it.”

Patrick opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Walter beat him to it.

“Boy doesn’t need to do anything about it. Gini’s independent. She can take care of herself. She doesn’t need complications.”

“What makes you think Patrick would be a complication?” Liz asked as if Patrick wasn’t sitting beside her. “He saved our son from a burning building, Walter.”

“I didn’t save—” Patrick stopped when Haddy put her hand on his knee.

“She’s trying to get Walter to like you,” Haddy whispered.

“Why wouldn’t he like me?” Patrick asked. Why did it matter?

“Gini is Walter’s little girl. He won’t give her to just anybody.”

Patrick wanted to say he wasn’t asking for Gini, but he kept his mouth shut. This conversation was making his head ache.

Jonah must have noticed because he said, “Ma, Pop.” His parents both turned to him. “Let’s focus on what’s important here, shall we?” He angled his hand toward himself. “Me.”

Liz laughed and Walter loosened the grip his arms had across his chest.

“Of course, honey.” Liz got up from the sofa. “I’ll heat up some soup for you.” She went to the kitchen and tapped Walter as she went by. “Come help me.”

With a final glance at Patrick, Walter stood and followed his wife. Patrick let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. Why did he feel as if he’d been under Walter’s silent microscope?

“Sorry about them,” Jonah said.

“No problem.” Patrick ran his hands down the thighs of his uniform pants. “I need to get back.”

“You’re not still on-call, are you?” Jonah asked.

“No, but I need to get home. Got some projects on my list for tonight.” Patrick stood. “Got to pick up Midas too. Figured you didn’t want him shedding in the Mustang.”

Liz and Walter came back into the living room. Liz set an enormous bowl of soup on the coffee table.

“Ma, that’s like a trough of soup.” Jonah’s blue eyes widened as he looked at the bowl.

“And you’re going to slurp up every last drop of it.” She turned to Patrick. “Want some, dear?”

“Oh, no thanks,” Patrick said. “I’ve got to get home.”

“Let me get my keys,” Haddy said.

“I’ll give him a ride back.” Everyone in the room turned toward Walter, his arms still folded.

Patrick heard himself swallow. He felt like an adolescent.

“What a wonderful idea, Walter.” Liz beamed and looked so much like Gini that Patrick was stunned into silence for a moment too long.

“I want to talk to Chief Warner,” Walter said. “Mind if I drive you back?”

Cornered. That’s how Patrick felt. As if he had nowhere to run, and the walls were shrinking toward him.

“Thank you, sir,” he managed.

Walter nodded and led the way to the front door. Patrick darted a gaze back to Jonah and Haddy, who both looked scared for him.