The Arsonist (12 page)

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Authors: Mary Burton

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BOOK: The Arsonist
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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 will-power. 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.

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

D
arcy 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.

She pulled on her top and had one leg in her pants when her cell phone started to ring. The noise caught her by surprise and she nearly tipped back onto the bed. She opened it without checking the number, half hoping it was Gannon.

“Hello?” she said.

“Darcy!” her mother said.

Darcy’s shoulders immediately straightened. Could this moment get any worse? “Mom.” She braced ready to be reamed out for closing the tavern tonight.

“Where are you?”

“Out. What do you need?” Pulling up her pants, she found one flip-flop under the bed and the second by the door. How it got there, she had no clue.

“I need your help.” Her mother’s voice trembled when she spoke.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Trevor. He came by this afternoon.” She sounded so shaky.

Darcy sighed. “I know. I know. He’s mad that I didn’t open tonight.”

“I don’t think he even noticed.”

Her mother wasn’t mad at her. Something was wrong. “Then, what’s the problem?”

“He’s furious that you took last night’s receipts. He said he needed the money. Said he was desperate.” She let out a long shuddering sigh. “I’ve never seen him this angry. Darcy, he threw a whiskey bottle against the wall. Then he went for my purse. I told him to stay out of my wallet but he knocked me down and took what I had anyway.”

Rage pumped through Darcy’s veins. “Where is he now?”

“I don’t know.” She started to cry softly.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” she soothed. “I’ll be right there.”

“I don’t know what to do,” her mother said.

“I’ll take care of everything.” She closed the phone and headed down the stairs.

There was no sign of Gannon in the shop, confirming her worries. Still, she paused at his workbench to leave him a note that explained her situation. She wasn’t sure if he cared one way or the other at this point, but she’d be honest with him, on the off chance he did care.

Darcy turned the lock and closed the door behind her. She jammed the note in the front door of his garage and headed over to the tavern.

Nero watched Darcy Sampson leave the note in Gannon’s front door. Immediately, he was intrigued and surprised. It made sense that Gannon would need a woman from time to time but he’d never have pegged those two together. It explained why she was at the fire today and why the tavern was closed.

Ah, love. It was a wonderful thing.

Glancing from side to side, he strolled across the street, grabbed the note and replaced it with a pack of Rome matches before continuing on down the street. When he was a half block away, he read it:
Mom called. Trevor is in trouble again. Sorry. Call me. D.

Nero moved to the shadows. He folded the note neatly and tucked it in his pocket.

Darcy added an interesting wrinkle to the game. She wasn’t supposed to be a part of all this. That was too bad. He’d liked her. And had even thought about the possibility of more between them.

Closing his eyes, he imagined Darcy lying naked in a bed of red satin sheets, her hair tossed wildly on the pillows. And then the sheets turned to flames. She started to scream as her hair and skin melted into her bones. He was erect.

Darcy wasn’t supposed to be a part of this game, but she was now.

And very soon she would burn.

Gannon didn’t see the pack of matches at first.

Balancing burgers and sodas in one hand, he dug his keys out of his pocket with the other. He dropped his keys and cursed and then bent down to pick them up. He didn’t expect to be gone from Darcy this long. He’d wanted to be back when she woke.

He smiled when he thought about her lying next to him in his bed. Nothing had felt so right in a very long time.

Smiling, he fumbled with the keys until he found the right one and then shoved it in the lock. That’s when he saw the matches.

He froze and then glanced up toward his darkened bedroom. Darcy was alone, sleeping. And the bastard had been here.

Panic sliced through him. Tossing the burgers and sodas in a trash can, he quickly opened the door. He took the back staircase two at a time and burst into his bedroom. Darcy was gone.

A moment’s panic overtook him. Dark thoughts raced through his mind. Had Nero done something to her?

He hurried to his window that overlooked the tavern and reached for the phone. It was then that he saw Darcy standing in the dining room of the Varsity. She was drinking coffee with her mother. She was smiling.

The moment’s relief gave way to anger. She’d left. No note. No thank you. No kiss my ass. Nothing.

What did you expect? She’s a reporter, he scolded himself.

Darcy listened as her mother detailed her encounter with Trevor. “I told you, Mom, he needs help. He’s just like Dad.”

Her mother raised a shaking hand to the ice pack on her bruised forehead. “Darcy, it’s not that bad.”

She struggled to keep her voice even. “Mom, he knocked you down. He took your money. He’s not your sweet baby Trevor when he needs a fix. He’s an animal.”

Her mother winced. “Don’t talk about your brother that way.”

“I’m not saying it to be hateful. Trevor needs help.”

Her mother looked lost. “I don’t even know where that kind of help would be.”

“We’ll figure it out together, okay? My guess is the county has some kind of program.”

Her mother dabbed her red-rimmed eyes with a tissue. “The county? I just don’t think we need to take such a drastic step. I mean contacting the county…what if they put it on our records?”

Darcy laughed though there was no mirth in it. “Mom, it’s not like there’s a huge permanent record out there that Big Brother keeps on us. There are just social workers willing to help.”

She started to pace. “I…I can’t do it. I can’t turn my baby in.”

“You’re not turning him in. You are getting him help.”

Mrs. Sampson’s eyes snapped with anger. “No! And let’s just leave it at that. Trevor had a bad day, is all. He will be better in the morning.”

Darcy watched her mother walk out of the room. Frustrated, she went into the kitchen and opened the freezer and pulled out a two-gallon tub of chocolate ice cream. She set the container on the counter and dug a spoon out of the drawer. After scooping a generous spoonful, she put it in her mouth.

It tasted bland, too cold. She took another bite and then another. She was digging out her fifth bite when she realized she was eating just for the sake of it. Ice cream wasn’t going to fix her family or whatever it was she had with Gannon. It was simply going to make her fat.

She covered the carton and shoved it back in the freezer.

Darcy pulled her cell phone off her waistband and dialed Paul’s number. It was past seven, but she suspected he’d be there. Work was about all she had at this moment.

Paul picked up the call on the second ring. “Paul Tyler.”

“Paul, it’s Darcy. I called to see what you had for me.”

Paul’s chair squeaked as she leaned forward. “I heard you had another fire down there.”

Darcy gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Did Stephen tell you?”

He hesitated. “Glass. How the hell would he know?”

“Barbara called him.”

She heard Paul rise from his desk and slam his door closed. “Sorry.”

“We can still be first on this.” She went to the counter and pulled a pencil and pad of paper out of the drawer. “What can you tell me about the fires?”

Papers rustled in the background. “There have been two sets of fires like the ones you described. The first set was nine months ago in Dallas, Texas. A restaurant and warehouse burned. Both fires were fast burning and clearly arson. Cases never solved. The second set was outside of Detroit. An abandoned school and a restaurant. No fatalities in any of these cases.”

Darcy wrote down all the information. She didn’t see a pattern but maybe Gannon would. “Thanks.”

“Do you think we’ve got a story?”

“Yes. I’m more convinced than ever that Nero is alive. The trick is finding him.”

“Be careful.”

“I will.”

She hung up and dialed Gannon’s number. Whatever there was or wasn’t between them, they had a killer to catch. They could sort out their romance or lack thereof after Nero was caught.

The phone rang four times but there was no answer. The answering machine picked up. She didn’t want to leave a message. Disconnecting, she walked to the front of the tavern. There were no lights on in his place.

An hour ago, she’d felt so at home in his loft apartment. Now she’d never felt more alone.

News of the school fire was on the front page of the local paper the next morning. The article referenced the other fires, but the writer didn’t say anything about Nero or serial arsonists. However, it was just a matter of time. Soon the panic would begin. Nero would have the citizens of the small city afraid to enter any public building.

When Gannon arrived early at the chief’s office this time, the receptionist smiled and stood immediately. “Mr. Gannon, the chief is expecting you.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

The chief came to his feet the instant Gannon entered. Also in the room were the police chief and three fire captains dressed in their white shirts and dark blue uniform pants. They all shook hands.

When they sat, the chief said grimly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better listener yesterday. But I think we will all agree that whether it’s the real Nero or an imposter, we have a serial arsonist on our hands.”

Gannon pulled the matches from his pocket and tossed them on the chief’s desk. “These were stuck in my front door last night.”

The chief opened the flap and read the bold handwriting. “
Next time you won’t be so lucky.
What’s he mean?”

Tension banded around Gannon’s chest. “He knows I got lucky yesterday. The boy who delivered the clue yesterday wasn’t supposed to drop it off until after one o’clock. But he had a class and a date that he didn’t want to miss so he dropped it off early.”

“You mean we have a horny boy to thank?” one of the captains asked.

Gannon nodded. “And Darcy Sampson. I didn’t know where the school was. She found it for me. She pulled the fire alarm.”

“My kid goes to that school,” one of the firefighters said.

Chief Wheeler leaned forward. “What do you propose we do, Gannon?”

Gannon hated the idea of dealing with Nero again. But he’d see it through until Nero was caught for real this time. “Nero is moving faster. But his burn pattern is holding true. The next fire will be a church.”

“How do we know he’ll stick to the pattern? He’s already changed his timetable,” the chief said.

Gannon wished he had a crystal ball. “I don’t know anything for certain. Everything I’m giving you is my best educated guess.”

The chief sighed. “It’s the best we got. Do you know which church might be in danger?”

“No.”

“There must be over thirty churches in the area.”

“It will be a visible target,” Gannon said. “Nero has our attention now and he knows it. He’ll want to keep the tension high.” He turned to the police chief.

“Maybe we should go public and try to flush him out,” the police chief said.

Gannon shook his head. “We tried that in D.C. I challenged him. He responded by burning a warehouse. Two people were killed.” He was still haunted by those deaths.

“We can’t just sit here,” the police chief said.

Gannon met his gaze. “Get a list of all the churches in the area and we need to start searching them now.”

“That’s a needle in a haystack,” the chief said.

“Exactly.”

Gannon spent the night tossing and turning and the better part of the day working with the fire department. They searched a dozen churches, starting with the oldest ones in the city and working out from there. They found nothing.

His back ached and his head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. He headed up to his apartment and flipped on the lights. He glanced toward his bedroom and the rumpled sheets of his bed. Thoughts of Darcy swirled in his head. He’d managed to push her out of his mind most of the day, but now she was everywhere. Her half cup of coffee still sat on the counter of his kitchen and the barest hint of perfume still lingered.

He jabbed his fingers through his hair. Making love to Darcy had been beyond his expectations. And it wasn’t just the sex. When he’d woken yesterday and seen her lying beside him, something inside of him changed. Until her, he’d been content with his solitude. He’d welcomed the silence. Now he just felt alone.

He should have called her, found out why she’d left. But a part of him simply didn’t want to know that last night was more about business than pleasure for her.

“You’re a damn fool, Gannon.” He strode to his answering machine. Its light blinked four messages. Sighing, he hit Play.

“Gannon, this is Stephen Glass. How about we get together on this arson thing? Could be good for both of—”

Gannon hit Delete. The second message was from Glass as was the third. He deleted both. As the fourth message started to play, he turned and walked toward the kitchen. “Hey, this is Darcy. Sorry I missed you this morning. Call me.” She hesitated. “I’ve got information from Paul.”

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