Page 46 of Playing with Fire

“Hey man,” he called, jogging over.

“Hey. What's up?”

“Wanted to give you a heads up on what we found.”

I really had no expectations from the matchbook I’d found. It could have been dropped by anyone. And honestly, I didn't expect an update. It wasn't like I was officially involved in the case at all.

“Really?” My tone held an obvious hint of skepticism.

“Well, off the books, of course,” he said with a smirk. “But Violet was able to pull prints that tracked back to the owner of the business. We had to turn it over to the fire investigators, but they’re letting the department help out.”

“That's great. So are they looking at the owner then?”

He shook his head. “No. The guy's dead.”

“You for real?”

“Yup. Died from pneumonia almost a year ago. But get this—you all pulled him from a fire almost seven years ago.” He tipped his chin slightly toward me. “Violet thinks it's the son. She turned over her findings, and the investigators are supposed to go talk to him today.”

“Hmm,” I rubbed the side of my face with one hand. “Do you know anything about the fire?” I'd been with the Half Moon Lake FD for the last twelve years, surely I'd remember him if I was the one who pulled him from the fire.

“Outskirts of town, large farmhouse. Son was thirteen, maybe fourteen. Both him and mom were checked at the scene and cleared, but dad had to be rushed to the hospital for smoke inhalation.”

“I remember that one.” I shook my head. “Dad was a smoker. Son fought us about going out the window with Adam. I left them and went down the hallway to his parents. Got them out, but the dad was in pretty bad condition.”

“I'll try to mention to the investigators that you and Adam were both with the FD at that time. They may swing by the station and want to talk.”

I nodded. Anything I could do to help catch this guy. If it was the son, did he blame us for his dad’s death? The timeline would match up with his death and when the fires started at the end of last year.

The next three hours crawled at an excruciating pace. It was a few minutes before noon by the time I walked into the hospital lobby. My body lit up when I caught sight of Izzy walking down the long corridor I knew led to the administrative offices.

“You ready?” I asked once she came to a stop in front of me.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

I stepped to the side, letting her brush past me and placing a hand on the small of her back. Any excuse to touch her, I'd take.

“Any preferences for food?” We only had a few options to choose from since the hospital was located ten minutes outside of town.

“The cafe is always good.” She nodded across the street. “Or the diner down the street.”

The idea of having her in my truck again, where I could touch her, kiss her, shouldn't send all the blood in my body shooting south, but it did.

“The diner sounds good.” I placed my hand on the small of her back once again and turned her toward where I was parked.

Once in the truck, I reached out and placed my hand on her thigh before pulling out into traffic. The second I had the truck in park again, I turned toward her, reaching up to thread my fingers through her hair. Her lips glistened, holding me captive. I leaned forward and brushed my lips gently against hers.

Desire for more engulfed me. I wanted all of her. But right now, it was about spending time with her. Getting to know her more. Showing her I wanted more than strictly the physical stuff. I pulled away and she giggled, reaching up to wipe away the lip gloss she'd left on my face.

“Come on, sweetheart.” I grabbed the handle of my door. “Let's go eat.”

“I love when you call me that.”

“I know.” I reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Wait here.” I climbed out of the truck and made my way around to her side.

I opened her door and offered her my hand. She eyed it for a moment with a smirk before accepting it. My truck was raised, and although she impressed me when she climbed up in it just fine, with heels on, I wanted to help her down. Really any reason to touch her I would take.

“This place has the best waffles,” she said once we were seated in a booth.

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