The Heat Is On (Boston Five Book 1) (14 page)

The boy with the grazed knees and narrow shoulders sat silently, stiff as a poker and very confused, in the space that was normally Collum’s. He looked as if he hardly dared breathe, let alone shift his weight or make himself more comfortable. He let his eyes roam the interior of the cab, still not quite believing his luck at being here, and listened intently while Heath explained what all the buttons and switches were for.

“You know you’re not supposed to play with fire, don’t you?” Heath asked.

Justin remained silent. He didn’t look stubborn anymore, but rather dejected. Heath felt a little sick to his stomach as he noticed a yellowing bruise peeking over the collar of the boy’s faded t-shirt. Justin was the prime example of a child that was being abused at home and vented his impotent anger elsewhere, wherever he could.

“I know that,” the boy whispered. He sounded apologetic now. “I only wanted …”

With a sigh, Heath braced his left foot against the footboard of the cab. “I know what it’s like to be so angry at someone or something, so angry that you want to destroy something, Justin.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He nodded to back up his claim. “I also know how it feels when things are unfair. Sometimes they just are. That doesn’t change the fact that it’s extremely dangerous to play with fire. You could easily hurt other people, but also yourself.”

When the boy didn’t answer, Heath casually asked, “Do you have any brothers or sisters, Justin?”

Finally, the boy looked up at him and nodded reluctantly. “I have a little sister. Her name’s Josy.”

“I have a little sister, too. Her name is Kayleigh, and she’s a doctor, but you know what she else she is?”

The boy swallowed and shook his head.

Heath gave him a broad grin. “She’s a real pest. Little sisters can get on your nerves, don’t you agree?”

After a few seconds the boy returned the grin, but it was far more reluctant and shy than Heath’s had been.

“How old is Josy?”

“She’s four, and she’s in daycare,” the boy murmured, playing absently with a hole in his denim bermuda shorts.

Heath didn’t want to frighten the boy, so he tried to keep his voice casual. “Imagine Josy is in her daycare, and one of her friends sets a trash can on fire there. The teachers noticed today’s fire really quickly, but sometimes, nobody notices in time. Josy and the other kids could get hurt, and maybe they’d even have to go to the hospital.”

“I don’t want that,” Justin murmured, suddenly looking as if he were about to cry.

Heath put a soothing hand on the boy’s back. “I know that. I know you didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

The voice of the little guy swam in tears now. “I stole the matches from my dad. He’s going to beat me now.”

“I will talk to your dad,” Heath promised sincerely.

“But he’ll be really mad!”

“He won’t be thrilled to hear what happened,” Heath admitted, “but he’ll be far too relieved that nothing happened to you to stay angry for too long.”

“He sometimes yells at us,” Justin whispered, his voice now very small. “So Josy and I hide from him.”

Heath’s stomach churned. He threw a glance back at the group of children, who were still standing together with Hayden and the principal. And then he noticed the stocky man marching toward the two teachers, visibly furious.

Justin cringed and ducked for cover, trembling and about to break down sobbing. Heath presumed the bear-like man was his father.

“You know what? Why don’t you stay in here and let Collum tell you all about what we do when there’s a big fire? I’ll go over and talk to your dad. I’ll explain to him how you didn’t mean any harm.”

The boy nodded, a glimmer of hope in his frightened eyes. He stayed in Collum’s care while Heath sauntered over to where the furious man was breathing fire and brimstone.

Heath narrowed his eyes as he watched how the man was puffing himself up before Hayden and the slender principal, ranting at them in front of the scared children. Heath also registered the alarmed expression on the face of his former fiancée, who was looking at him, probably expecting an outburst from him that would match the angry man’s intensity—or maybe surpass it. He could not hold it against her, because the Fitzpatricks were known for their hotheadedness.

Unlike Shane, who was known to hit the roof at the slightest provocation, and who had gotten into a lot of unnecessary fights, Heath was a bit more levelheaded. The sight of the slavering brute, however, who was getting far too close to Hayden for his own good, made him wish he could use his fists on the man.

“What’s going on here?” Heath went to stand close to Hayden and Mr. Horrace, straightening to show his full size, and then fixed his eyes on the man with the bloodshot eyes.

“Mr. Miller is a little upset that we asked him to come down here,” the principal said diplomatically.

“I’m not upset, I am hopping mad, you wimp,” the obviously intoxicated man snorted. “What has the damn boy done this time? I’m going to beat the living hell out of him!”

Before Heath even got a chance to grab the man by his greasy collar, Hayden stepped forward. Heath had never seen her looking this belligerent.

She ordered her pupils to cover their ears before sticking out her chin and facing off with the blustering father, who was taller than her by at least a head. “If you dare lay a hand on Justin, I’ll send my brothers-in-law to your house. They work for the police department and know how to make it look like an accident!”

Heath didn’t know whether to be shocked or amused by the statement. She managed to shock her boss, who was gasping like a fish on dry land.

“Hayden!” the principal gasped.

Mr. Miller was too drunk to properly grasp what she’d just said. But the simple fact of her opposition was enough to make him even angrier. He growled and tried to take a step toward her.

That was Heath’s cue to grab the man by his arm and yank him backwards. “Restrain yourself!” he admonished the drunk sternly, forcing himself to remain calm.

“What the hell do you want, pal?”

“I want you to go home and sleep this off. Otherwise I’m going to call my colleagues at the police department, so they can march you off.”

“Fuck off!”

Heath looked at the principal. “I suggest you issue a formal ban, so Mr. Miller won’t be allowed to enter the school grounds anymore. If he doesn’t oblige, the next step would be a restraining order.” He nodded at Hayden, who had turned rather pale, despite her courageous words a minute earlier. “And you better take the children back inside. I don’t know if we can handle this like sensible adults here …”

“I don’t give a shit about the other brats!” Miller yelled again. “Give me my son so I can drag his ass home!”

“No way am I letting Justin go home with you now.” Hayden shook her head firmly. “Not with the state you’re in, Mr. Miller.”

“The state I’m in? That’s none of your goddamn business!”

Her voice sounded very dark as she replied, “I’m sure child protective services will think differently.”

The man’s eyes looked ready to bulge from their sockets. “I knew it! You’re the one who called the damn authorities on me!”

In a flash, he was moving toward Hayden with a threatening gleam in his eye.

Heath didn’t want to hit the drunken man in front of the children, so had no other choice but to tackle him to the ground. Luckily, as he twisted Miller’s arms behind his back, Collum had the presence of mind to radio for a patrol car, while Mr. Horrace herded the frightened children back into the school building. Heath remained on top of the rioting father, a knee pressed into his back and his arms held in a steely grip. He was panting from the scuffle, and his hair fell into his face. He blinked up at Hayden, who hadn’t gone in with the children but was standing there, shifting anxiously from one foot to another. He registered that she was wearing the sandals he’d bought for her on a weekend trip to New Haven a year ago. He remembered that she had protested, argued that the shoes were far too expensive. But her feet had looked so cute in the elegant shoes with their decorative bows, he just had to get them for her.

“Oh no,” she sighed. “I didn’t want this to happen.”

“I should hope not.” Heath couldn’t help grinning. “But you could warn me about the possibility next time.”

Hayden wrinkled her little nose. “I’m not clairvoyant, Heath. How in the world would I have known he’d blow a fuse?”

The man beneath him was still yelling inarticulate curses into the asphalt. Heath cocked his head to the side and chuckled.

“Hey, you need any help, Fitzpatrick?” George called, sticking his head out from the cab of the truck.

“Everything is under control,” Heath called back. Collum must have taken Justin back to his classroom already, so he didn’t have to witness his father’s behavior.

Heath turned back to Hayden. “You don’t need to worry about him,” he said, shifting his weight to the other knee. “Justin, I mean. I’m sure he won’t be playing with matches again.”

“Mm-hm.”

“The boy really didn’t mean any harm, Hayden.”

She raised both hands exasperatedly. “I don’t know about that anymore … I just can’t get through to him. He keeps acting up. But this thing today, this was more than fooling around. It was dangerous. Really dangerous.”

Glancing at the man beneath him who wasn’t paying him any attention, Heath leaned toward Hayden and lowered his voice. “Did you see the bruises on his shoulder?”

She nodded, her lips pressed tightly together.

“The little guy is being abused at home. Probably by this piece of shit. That makes him so angry he’s looking for ways to vent.”

“I know that.” Hayden studied him. “But I have no idea how to talk to him. He won’t confide in me; I’ve tried often enough to know.”

Heath wanted to bite his tongue, but instead, he heard himself say, “If anything goes on with him, if he acts out again, you can call me.”

Surprise spread over her face. “You’re good with children, Heath,” she finally answered in a measured tone.

He was suddenly jolted back to six months ago. To when they’d thought Hayden was pregnant. It turned out to be a false alarm, but he still remembered exactly how disappointed he’d been when the test hadn’t changed color. The plan had been to try in earnest right after the wedding—and he’d hardly been able to wait.

To snap himself out of the unwelcome memories, he forced his features into a grim face. “You should restrain yourself from getting in an altercation like this in the future,” he lectured her. “This could have ended badly for you.”

“I know that already.” With a sigh, she crossed her arms, pressing her heavy breasts against the clingy fabric of her dress. He felt his mouth water. “But what can I do?”

The man’s resistance was slowly fading, and Heath was able to relax his grip a little. “You could start by not provoking a drunk man.”

One blond eyebrow traveled upward. “I provoked you when you were drunk in your apartment, and I handled myself alright.”

“That was different,” he grumbled, lowering his eyes.

“Was it? How?”

He couldn’t have hurt her even if he wanted to. Thankfully, the patrol car turned into the schoolyard at that moment, which saved him having to answer. None of his relatives were in the car, he registered with relief.

As soon as Hayden had explained the situation to the cops, who took the crying Mr. Miller off his hands, Heath was finally free to leave.

But Hayden’s hand suddenly on his arm, together with her bright eyes, which looked at him gratefully, caused his stomach to tingle in an all-too-familiar way. He didn’t want to acknowledge the sensation, didn’t want to analyze it.

“Thank you, Heath.”

“You’re welcome.” He didn’t offer her a smile, or an encouraging glance, but instead nodded stiffly and returned to his truck without another word.

When Collum and Heath returned to the station, the rest of the troop was eating lunch with wide smirks on their faces. Apparently they’d already heard about the nature of the operation. Collum had probably radioed in that they’d been called to extinguish a charred trash can.

“Back from your heroic deeds?” Sam inquired with a chuckle.

“I don’t know what’s so funny about that.” Heath shrugged and leaned across his brother to grab a roll from a communal plate. It smelled like it was fresh from the oven, and he took an appreciative bite.

Sam leaned back in his chair with a patronizing look. “Well, we heard that you staged quite a show for a group of elementary-school kids. Were they properly impressed?”

Heath rolled his eyes and gave his colleague a disdainful look. “The last time you ran a fire drill with kids that age, we had at least a dozen complaints from irate parents whose offspring you frightened to death with tales of charred corpses.” He threw Sam a roll and winked at him. “If I were you, I’d shut up now.”

“He’s right, Sam.” Collum pushed someone aside and squeezed into a narrow space on the bench. He helped himself to a generous portion of lasagna. “Have you ever thought about a career in screenwriting for horror flicks? Even I was close to pissing my pants when you were telling the kids your stories.”