Page 1 of To Hold and Protect

Chapter One

“Arson,” Parker told his brother, Marsville’s police chief, as they walked through the house once the fire was out. It had been up for sale and was thankfully empty.

Tristan frowned. “That’s three now.”

“Yep.” Parker kneeled next to Ember, his fire-accelerant detection dog, who’d alerted on several spots in the house. “Good girl.” He held out his hand, and the red Labrador delicately took the treats from his palm. She was food motivated, the treats a reward for a job well done.

He’d collect samples to send to the lab, but he didn’t need the results to know the accelerant was gasoline that had been poured on the floor. Gasoline burned downward and was the reason for the hole in the wood. It also formed a volatile air and vapor mixture above the origin of the fire that would then ignite. He looked up and noted the expected severe ceiling damage over this hot spot.

“So we got us a firebug,” Tristan said. “What’s the profile on an arsonist?”

Parker stood and stretched. “Young white male. Craves attention and power. Might get sexual gratification from the fire.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, some do. But that profile doesn’t mean our firebug is a young white male. Could be older, could be a woman—although that’s rare—or it could be kids. Statistically there are arrests in only about 10 percent of arson fires nationally.”

“That’s not encouraging.”

“Nope. I’m going to collect samples, then head home. You and Skylar still on for dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there.”

“Great. See you then.”

Although the fires could be unrelated, Parker doubted it. He hadn’t pinpointed why yet, but these fires felt personal, like someone was...teasing him? No,tauntinghim. That was the word he was looking for.

He’d felt watched while his crew had been fighting the fire. As the fire chief, his responsibility was to direct the activities of his firefighters on the scene, and while he’d been doing that, the hairs on the back of his neck had stood up. He knew most everyone in Marsville at least by sight if not by name, and although he’d searched, he hadn’t seen any strangers in the crowd who’d gathered to watch.

“Let’s go home, Ember,” he said after collecting his samples. They’d go to the lab tomorrow.

He made a stop at the station to drop off the samples. He was the chief of a small-town station located in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina. The idea that they might have an arsonist working in Marsville was worrisome since the station operated with only a small crew, barely enough for the twenty-four-hours-on and forty-eight-off shifts. Normally that wasn’t a problem, but it could become one if the arsonist kept starting fires at the rate he or she was going.

The two Marsville fire engines and their two ambulances were back in their bays, and his crew were in the kitchen, throwing something together for dinner. He poked his head in. “Good job out there today, people.”

“Wanna join us, Chief?” Eric said. “Drummond’s got plenty of pork chops on the grill.”

“Sounds good but can’t today. Next time.” If he didn’t get busy painting, he wouldn’t have enough pieces ready for his upcoming New York show. Leaving his official fire chief’s SUV in its bay, he and Ember got in his black-on-black Dodge Challenger Hellcat and headed home. Normally, he’d drive the SUV home since he was on call 24/7, but one of the city’s motor pool mechanics was picking it up to take it in for service.

As he passed the house next door to his—which had been an empty eyesore even before Bob Landry had died—he noted a bright yellow VW Bug convertible in the driveway. Parker loved cool cars, but bright yellow was not a cool car color. His eyes were drawn to the woman on the porch and...his daughter? He slammed on the brakes.

“Sorry,” he said when Ember gave him a dirty look from the passenger seat. He pulled in behind the VW. “Stay.” He exited the car. “Everly Isabella Church, who gave you permission to leave the yard?”

“Uh-oh.” Everly scooted next to the woman. “Daddy called me three names. That means he’s mad at me.” She sighed. “I probably won’t get any pickles.”

She had that right. The most effective punishment he could give his pickle-loving daughter was to take her pickles away. “Does Andrew know where you are?” Andrew, their everything—housekeeper, cook, and Everly’s manny—would blame himself for letting a willful little girl escape his watchful eye. He shouldn’t, because Parker himself had lost track of his sneaky daughter a time or two.

“No.” She hung her head, then lifted the same brown eyes he saw every time he looked in a mirror. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I just wanted to meet Miss Willow.”

His baby girl had him wrapped around her little finger, and although he wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and pepper kisses all over her face until she giggled, he didn’t. She couldn’t just go off on her own to her heart’s content. The world wasn’t safe, and nothing meant more than making sure his reason for living stayed safe. “Go home, Ev.”

She peeked up at him through honey-colored bangs that needed trimming. He needed to take her to get a haircut, should have a week or two ago. “But, Daddy—”

“Now, Everly.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh, Everly’s dad?” said the woman, Miss Willow he supposed, after Everly ran from her yard to his.

“She’s five years old. It’s not safe for her to traipse around the neighborhood by herself.”

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