Page 33 of Backdraft
Just thinking about them made me shiver and my scalp prickle. I gritted my teeth, knowing I couldn't let this escalate. It could jeopardize my career and emotional well-being. I’d given the notes to the police, so it was in their hands. They didn’t really make sense either. I finished the drink in a gulp.
I thought back over a lot of my cases. I’d been an expert witness in court providing evidence. Most of the people I’d testified against had been found guilty of arson and incarcerated. One guy had taken a couple of years to nail, but he'd ended up with nine years.
He went after abandoned buildings, some historical, which was a shame, because their beautiful architecture had been gutted by fire. It broke my heart to see the charred buildings that had once held life. But at least no one had been hurt or died in those fires. The guy was a creep and had stared me down when he was led from the courtroom. He'd made a gesture with his hands that he'd be watching me. I faced him down, and he’d turned away first. But it had shaken me.
Part of the decision to move away from my last job was the fire in my complex that had engulfed my work truck in the garage. I couldn't prove it was deliberate, but my gut told me otherwise. It certainly was ironic to see a fire investigator’s burned-out work truck.
There had been an investigation, one I couldn't be part of, and it had been deemed non-suspicious.
That didn't sit right with me. I’d mentioned my concern, but there had been no evidence of wrongdoing and the case had been closed. But now, thinking about the sketchy things happening since I’d arrived here, I wondered if they were connected.
That led me back to that one arsonist we’d finally caught after two years and multiple fires. He’d been a bit scary, the way he stared at me in court, and I’d shook it off. How could he be responsible? He was in jail. I shivered thinking that it was possible he could somehow reach me from behind the bars of his cell.
Pub sounds invaded my thoughts. I glanced at the door and then at the crowd of people around me. If I ended up staying here, I'd get to know a lot of them, and they’d get to know me. So far, everyone I'd met had been great. Well, except for the person that had slashed my tires.
"Penny for your thoughts." I spun around to see who had crept up on me. Damn. I’m jumpy. It was the firefighter I'd seen at Kali's.
"Oh, hey. How are you?"
"Good. We have to stop meeting in restaurants. Did you enjoy the rest of your breakfast?"
"I did, thanks."
He lifted my bag off the stool and put it on the bar as he slid in beside me. I frowned.
"I'm, ah, waiting for someone."
A look flashed across his face before he masked it. "The more the merrier." His smile seemed just a bit too wide.
"Well, actually, no," I answered. "Girls’ night, you know how it is. Sorry."
"Sure. I'll keep you company and then mosey off when your friend arrives."
But I don't want you too. I drew in a breath and cast about for something to say.
"Did you start firefighting in Oak Creek?" I asked as I swirled my glass, and the ice cubes clinked.
He took a drink from his beer and then shook his head. "No and yes. I came out as a fire jumper a few years ago during the wildfires, and then sort of drifted here. It was an unexpected place to land, but I like it."
"Seems like a nice place."
"How did you end up here?" he asked.
It was an innocent enough question, and I almost answered it. His expression held anticipation, and I felt a prickle along my spine.
"Nothing as exciting as your reason." I shrugged. "Just a job opening."
I wish Shannon would hurry up. This guy was giving me the heebie-jeebies.
“Girl on Fire” by Alicia Keyes came on the jukebox.
"Hey, that's you," he said.
"What?" I spun to look at him.
"The song." He tipped the neck of his beer bottle toward the jukebox. "‘Girl on Fire’. That's you."
"No, it's not."
