Wrapped in Flame (14 page)

“Detective Posner.” They exchanged a handshake. “How can I help you?” Courtesy might require he invite the man into his cubbyhole of an office, but Mike wasn’t about to let the man into the bowels of the fire station.

“I have a few questions to ask you.”

It was only a matter of time before Posner cornered him. Word had filtered to Mike that he’d spent the morning making calls on people. “Go on.” Forget the courtesy invite. Mike wanted to be able to show him the door fast if things got nasty.

Posner poised his notepad for action. “Keith Randall was on quite the tear. I’d almost be inclined to call it a vendetta against something or someone. Any clue what that might be?” He lifted his hand before Mike could answer. “Yes, I get that you and Mrs. Randall weren’t involved. I have been told that repeatedly and vehemently by everyone I’ve spoken with so far. I’ve also been told over and over again that Randall was a class-one asshole and an incompetent firefighter. So, why was he still working here? How was he hired in the first place? What, if anything, do you know about this man?”

“He was going to be fired.” No doubt Posner had already heard that from Craig and Tim. “I’m guessing he somehow got wind of that and decided to attack.” The offices were private but not soundproof. Anyone could have heard the conversation if they’d tried.

Posner frowned. “For a person no one liked—hated, even—why would someone give him the heads-up?”

Mike shrugged. “Rub it in his face? Though that seems unlikely, since we still had to work with him until termination. No one would want to risk danger by him not having their back.”

“Yet, from what I understand, that’s exactly what had been happening. No one wanted to work with him for that very reason. You included.”

True, but Mike’s reasons were much more complicated than that.

“How did a man like this wind up working here in the first place?” Posner asked.

Damn fine question. One Mike couldn’t figure out. “He was hired about eighteen months ago. Keith’s previous fire department painted him with glowing reviews. He came highly recommended.” Probably because someone else was trying to get rid of him. Pawning someone off was always easier than firing them. “He was passable at best, and that gradually got worse as time went on.”

“So it wasn’t an abrupt change? Nothing that coincided with anything personal in his life that you knew of?”

Posner meant Keith’s marriage to Erica. “Nothing that we could tell. If anything, his marriage to Erica gave us more contact with him. She fit in well with our family. He didn’t. We liked her a lot. All of us. We still do.”
Some of us more than others.
He waited for those words to come out of Posner’s mouth.

“She must be one hell of a woman for all of you to have put up with a man you hated.”

Mike silently admitted it didn’t make sense. “I think we hoped she would change him. That he would find his way and be the man and firefighter we wanted him to be. That we’d been led to believe he was by his former department.”

“In other words, you tried to make it work.”

“We did.” It was the truth too.
Whatever it takes.
Anything to bring them into one cohesive unit, to protect each other, be effective, save lives, get the job done.

“He ever mention family, friends, or relationships? He told Mrs. Randall he’d moved on. Surely he would have bragged about that.”

Mike laughed. “Not to any of us. Not without someone coming down hard on him.”

“Like you?”

He laughed again. “I’m not a stupid man, Detective.”

Posner flipped a few pages back on his notepad. “There was his rape of Firefighter Freeman. Something you all just learned about. Anyone mad enough to get revenge on Randall for that? For me, it would have been the final straw on the load of crap he’d delivered that afternoon to all of you.”

It was a good question. Mike didn’t have an answer. Or maybe he did. “None of us would have set fire to a house and endangered others.”

Posner’s eyes widened slightly, as if he’d expected a lie and was surprised by Mike’s honesty.

“I don’t know anything about the man’s family, other than he’s from somewhere in Northern California.” Mike clasped his wrist. “I resent being pulled from this investigation and strongly feel important evidence could be compromised. I have been and always will be a professional, Detective. The sooner you understand that, the sooner we might be able to get to the bottom of what happened.”

“You know what, Captain?” He tucked his pad into his pocket. “I believe you. If it matters, so does County. But those damn lawyers have their noses in this. Insurance people will too. Once Randall’s family gets wind of this—I understand he does have a sister—all hell could break loose if we aren’t careful. I don’t like it either, but it’s the way it has to be.”

It was Mike’s turn to be surprised. Maybe Posner wasn’t so bad after all.

“Thanks for your time.” Posner extended his hand.

Mike shook it. “You’ll keep us in the loop on your investigation?”

“I will. You’ll do the same if you hear anything?”

“I will.” Maybe. Mike might have upped his opinion of the man, but trust was a different issue. If his office had diligently pursued Sandy’s rape, took Betty’s disappearance more seriously, hadn’t stonewalled the fire department too many times in the past…

A blast from the station alarm jolted Posner.

Mike opened the front door, swinging it wide. “Back to work for us.” Nothing like fire action to get the heart pumping, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Weekends found him stuck at the station most of the time, holding down the fort. Still, he rushed into the bay once Posner left. EMTs and one engine rolled out, leaving the ladder truck and other engine in place.

“Possible heart attack in one location,” Berto told him. “Brush fire at another.”

Energy hummed in the air. Mike, Berto, and Bub were all antsy to be on scene, a part of the action. They lived and trained for stuff like this. Died for it too.

“Any word on whether or not we’ll be required to have a stress debriefing over Keith’s death?” Bub asked.

“Not yet. I’ll let you know.” No one gave a damn, but Keith’s actions did have an impact on all of them. That couldn’t roll over into the job. “I’ve got the radio. You two get back to it.”

“Roger that,” they replied.

Mike left them to their work and returned to his own. His project to map building access and hazards for the town’s structures held little interest this morning. He worried about his people, the status of the incidents, and held his breath waiting for another call that would send his last crew out. Back at his desk across from the radio room, more jumbled thoughts crowded his head. His conversation with Posner replayed. Questions he’d asked too many times wanted answers. There was dirt on Keith somewhere. Hard digging would find it.

Mike opened a search engine on his computer. His fingers froze over the keys. Did it really matter? Keith was dead. It wasn’t his job to find out who did it. As far as he was concerned, he’d suffered enough angst over Keith this past year.

And whose fault was that?
his conscience taunted.

Mike told it to shut the fuck up. A radio call from dispatch launched him to his feet. A kid stuck in a tree with a cat. Looked like the ladder truck and his last two men were going out. In the wake of their departure, his phone rang—Erica. His spirits lifted, even while he dreaded the news she might have to share.

“How did you know I’d be all alone?”

“Goodness, you know how to tempt a woman.” Her low voice slithered over him. “I’m almost tempted to test your professional boundaries. But I wouldn’t want you hating yourself in the morning.”

Mike chuckled. “You know me well.” He never mixed business with pleasure, and God help the firefighter who did. “Find out anything?”

“Yes. Is he there?”

“He stank so bad I didn’t want anyone else to see him that way. I told him to go home, but when he refused because you were there, I sent him to my place. It’s not good news, is it?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Can you give me a quick rundown?”

“Drugs, alcohol, a lot of money withdrawn from her account,” she said.

“How much money?”

“Five thousand a month for the last six months, then one hundred thousand on Friday.”

He whistled. “Damn.”

“That’s an understatement. Frankly, I was surprised at what I didn’t find.”

“Such as?”

“Cocaine, heroin, stuff like that. Unless she took it. Where else could she have been spending 5K a month? With the money she withdrew on Friday, she could buy whatever she wanted. Be anywhere.”

“I know she wasn’t in a good frame of mind, but leaving like that strikes me as odd.” Mike drummed his fingers on the desk. “Something set her off. Wherever she went, whatever she did, she was careful to cover her tracks. There was intent behind her actions.”

“They…they had separate bedrooms—” Erica cut herself off.

He knew she was about to say “too.” She was making comparisons between her marriage and the Stantons’. How could she not? Somehow he had to make her realize this was the exception, not the rule.

He cleared his throat. “I have to say something. Understand this is friend to friend, not lover to lover. Don’t read something into this that I’m not saying.”

She hesitated so long he thought the call dropped. Then she said, “Go on.”

“All right, here it is.” He drew in a breath, then spat out the words. “I don’t have a problem with privacy. I don’t have a problem with couples having separate money as long as there’s joint money to handle finances as well. But there’s privacy and then there’s secrets. There’s privacy and then there’s a clear lack of communication, or someone turning a blind eye because the truth’s too hard to face. I know Betty was grieving the loss of her mother. The very thought of losing my parents kills me. But I never would have let my wife grieve alone, to lock herself away like she did. And yes…I said
let
. I would have never
allowed
separate bedrooms when she would need to be comforted at night. I never would have left her alone. And in my opinion, that’s exactly what Craig’s done.”

“But isn’t that what we did too, Mike? We all left her alone.”

He sagged into his chair and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, I guess we did. But he’s her husband, Erica. You saw how he reacted at the very notion of going through her things.”

“Their marriage, their rules. Who are we to judge? Or get involved? That’s why I feel so awful. I feel like I’ve ripped the scab off something ugly, something that’s been festering for a very long time. It makes me sick inside.”

One of the many things he loved about Erica was how much she cared about others. This time he worried it was eating her alive. “Want me to tell him what you found?”

“No.” She didn’t sound like she meant it, but Mike wouldn’t call her on it. “He trusted me to do this. I owe him that much respect.”

“If you have any problems or need help, don’t hesitate to call me.” He couldn’t leave work, but he might be able to calm his boss down.

“Thanks. I think I can manage. I’m not one of those wives who interfere with their man’s work, you know.”

Mike held his breath, wondering if she’d realized what she’d just said…or if it meant anything at all. “At least let me know how it goes.”

“I will, but it might be a while.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know.” The seduction in her voice slid beneath his skin and scorched a path right to his cock.

* * * *

Erica reeled from the impact of the hidden secrets she’d uncovered. One thing was clear—Betty had a big problem. Surely Craig wasn’t
that
oblivious. He had to have an inkling of what was going on, no matter what his work schedule. Betty had done a damn fine job of hiding it from her friends, though. Easy to do when they’d seen little of her in the last six months. Having talked with Mike, Erica couldn’t truly fault Betty for that. They were all just as much to blame.

She hated like hell to be the one to drop this bombshell on Craig or call him out on it, whatever the case might be. None of what she’d discovered led to any clues about where Betty might have gone. Considering the money she’d withdrawn from her bank account, she could have gone anywhere. As much as Erica hated to admit it, it looked like she’d just left. Separate bedrooms said a lot. Too much for Erica’s comfort. Was it indicative of a marriage gone terribly wrong, as hers had? Or was this standard procedure for firefighters?

Erica shook her head. The Delaneys didn’t have separate bedrooms. Of course, having four kids in a three-bedroom house made that rather impossible. Would they if they could? No. She didn’t think so. Trish had asked what the deal was with Erica and Keith’s sleeping arrangements. Berto had commented on it too. A bigger question was, why did seeing this side of the Stantons bother her so much?

Filling Mike in on what she’d found had helped order her thoughts and give her the center of calm she needed to face Craig. She just wished it wasn’t going to be at Mike’s house. That was a haven all its own, filled with fun and laughter, and was about to be tainted by a discussion she really didn’t want to have with a man whose world was about to implode.

She’d always loved Mike’s house. In fact, she’d had her eye on the place long before she’d met Keith. She’d even lusted after it when it came on the market. The asking price and the fact it truly was too much house for a single woman had put it out of her range. Still, her heart broke a little when it had been sold. Then it had filled back up with laughter when she’d met the man who bought it. All things considered, it was a good thing she hadn’t bought it. Marriage to Keith would have taken it from her.

Mike nested well, made his home inviting and appealing. A low brick wall separated his property from the main street, while a board fence surrounded the back and gave him privacy. Kid friendly with adult appeal.
Just like Mike.

She smiled, her heart bursting. She pulled into his driveway next to Craig’s car and saw the sage bushes around Mike’s yard filled with purple blossoms. Bees hummed around them, vying for space with the butterflies. Mike had stayed with the drought-resistant desert landscaping when he’d bought the place, just like she would have.