Page 34 of Her Ohio Old Flame

Lou met his gaze evenly, leaning back in his chair. “Born and bred in Peaceful, sir. I’m about fifteen years older than Zane here. By the time you started teaching, I was overseas.”

MacCready’s expression softened, his lips curving into a genial smile. “Ah, I see. Military man, huh?”

Lou gave a small nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, thank you for your service,” MacCready said. “It’s men like you who keep the rest of us safe. And Peaceful? It’s better with someone like you at the helm.”

Lou’s face remained unreadable, but he inclined his head a few inches in acknowledgment. “Appreciate that.”

Lou leaned forward and braced his elbows on the desk. "We’ve called you in because of the car fire. Can you tell us about the night your car was set on fire?"

As MacCready stuffed his wallet back in his pocket, his expression turned serious. “Of course. That was a different night altogether. It was late—around two o’clock in the morning. My wife and I had put the kids to bed at eight, and we were asleep ourselves. The car was parked out front, but we sleep at the back of the house. We didn’t hear a thing until the sirens woke us up.”

“Did you notice anything unusual leading up to that night?” Zane asked, his firefighter instincts kicking in.

MacCready shook his head. “Nothing. The fire department was quick, thank goodness, but by the time I got outside, the car was a total loss.”

Lou’s fingers drummed a fast rhythm on the table. “Do you have any idea who might have done this?”

MacCready’s brow furrowed in thought. “I can’t imagine anyone in town holding a grudge against me. I’ve always tried to treat people fairly, and as a teacher, my goal was to help my students succeed. Maybe I pushed some of them hard, but it was always out of care.”

Zane nodded. “You’ve been a mentor to so many people here. It’s hard to believe someone would target you on purpose.”

MacCready sighed, and his shoulders slumped slightly as he muttered, “I hope it’s not personal. It’s unsettling to think someone would do this to anyone, let alone my family.”

Lou’s expression remained unreadable, though his voice carried a gentler tone. “We’re looking into all possibilities, including whether this might be connected to the other fires—the dumpster at the high school and the wildfire.”

MacCready raised his brows. “The high school? That’s troubling.”

Lou nodded. “That’s why we’re here. The school building and your car seem to be the only clear connections so far. We’re worried it might be a kid from the high school.”

MacCready’s face fell. “A student? That’s… heartbreaking. If that’s true, I hope we can help them before they spiral further.”

“We’re considering interviewing some of the kids at the school, but we’re trying to be careful.” Lou held up a hand, when MacCready opened his mouth to protest. “We don’t want to accuse anyone without evidence. If you notice anything—or if anything comes to mind about who might have a motive—let us know.”

MacCready nodded solemnly. “Absolutely. If there’s anything I can do, I’ll help in any way I can. This town is my home, and I want it to stay safe for everyone.”

As they stood, MacCready shook hands with both men again, his grip firm and reassuring. “Thank you for looking into this, Lou. And Zane? You’re making this town proud.”

“Thank you, sir,” Zane said, his respect for the man unshaken.

As MacCready left, Zane turned to Lou, whose thoughtful expression hadn’t changed. “What do you think?”

Lou gave a faint shrug. “He’s convincing, but something about this still feels off.”

Zane frowned. “You think he’s hiding something? Really. Come on, man. He’s by far the best teacher in town. Hell, probably in the county.”

“Not sure,” Lou admitted, “but we need to focus on those kids. If it is someone from the high school, we need to figure out who—and why—before things get worse.”

Chapter Sixteen

After taking her dad to visit her mom at the rehabilitation center, Asha had returned home with him, his exhaustion evident in the slow shuffle of his steps. He’d headed to his room for a nap, leaving her to prepare dinner. The rhythmic tasks of cleaning vegetables and peeling potatoes had given her far too much time to think, each slice of the knife bringing another wave of doubt, fear, and frustration. Now, with the meal prepped and the house steeped in stillness, her thoughts had nowhere to go but inward.

The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that was usually a source of comfort. But today, it only seemed to amplify the chaos inside her head. She paced from the kitchen to the living room and back again, the floor creaking under her restless steps. Normally, she prided herself on being logical, decisive. She could analyze a situation, weigh the pros and cons, and make a choice without second-guessing herself.

But now? She was a tangled mess of emotions, and it was driving her mad.

She gripped the edge of the counter as if it might anchor her. Two days of going over Maddy’s words hadn’t given her theclarity she’d hoped for. Instead, it had only opened a floodgate of fears she’d spent years trying to keep at bay.

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