Page 57 of Bachelor Cop Finally Caught? (Hot off the Press! 2)

“Tell him I’ll call him later, okay?”

She followed him to the door. “Riley—”

He brushed her jaw with his knuckles. “See you later, Linds. And, needless to say, I won’t mention this to anyone.”

“I appreciate it.”

She closed the door behind him and sighed. And then she turned and gasped when she saw Dan standing in the doorway. “Oh. I—”

His expression gave nothing away. “Was that Riley?”

“Yes. He wanted an update on the arson case. He said he’ll call you later.”

“Okay. Do I smell coffee?”

“Yes, I just made some.” Had he overheard any of her conversation with Riley? She couldn’t read a thing in his expression.

“Let’s have a sandwich or something, and then I’d like to run by the station again. There are a few things I need to do there.”

She nodded and followed him into the kitchen, telling herself she must be just imagining that a new barrier had just gone up between herself and Dan.

Chapter Thirteen

“Dan, you have a call on line two. It’s B. J. Gray.”

Dan frowned at the intercom on his desk before he responded, “Thanks, Hazel.”

It was with some reluctance that he picked up the receiver. Two weeks had passed since he and Lindsey had become lovers, and this was the first time he’d spoken to her brother since. He couldn’t help but feel awkward. “Hi, B.J. How’s it going?”

“I’m doing well. How about you? Any new developments in the arson case?”

“Yeah. We caught our firebug last week.”

“No kidding. Anyone I know?”

“It’s Merle and Opal Stamps’s son, Eddie. He’s eighteen. A senior in high school.”

“A high school kid caused all that damage?” B.J. sounded stunned.

“And managed to elude us for almost six months,” Dan agreed grimly.

“Have you got a confession?”

“He’s going for a plea bargain. He’s confessing to all but two of the fires. Says he had nothing to do with the one at Truman Kellogg’s fishing cabin. Since we have no evidence that he was involved in that one—not even proof that it actually was arson—there’s really no way we can pin it on Eddie. At this the cause of that fire is listed as undetermined.”

“You mean the Stamps kid might get away with murder?”

“Negligent homicide, possibly. But there’s nothing I can do about it, B.J. I made the arrest. Now it’s up to the courts. He should get a fairly tough punishment for the fires he’s admitting to—along with some intensive counseling, I hope—but he won’t do time for Kellogg’s death unless more evidence turns up. And frankly I’m not expecting that to happen.”

“Well, at least the kid won’t be setting any more fires. That’s got to be a load off your shoulders.”

“It’s a relief to everyone. We’ve all been getting tense, wondering when he was going to strike again, hoping no one else would be hurt.”

“So, have you seen my sister lately? I’ve been trying to reach her for a couple of weeks, but we keep missing each other. Except for a few short e-mails, I’ve barely heard from her since I was home last.”

Dan glanced at yesterday’s newspaper, which was spread out on his desk. The front page bore an article with Lindsey’s byline—an excellent, in-depth interview with students and teachers who knew Eddie Stamps from school. Below that was another story she’d written—full coverage of an Edstown High School beauty pageant.

Inside the Evening Star were articles about local kids who’d been named “citizens of the month” at the elementary and middle schools, an interview with the mayor about a community effort to get a new traffic light on Elm Street, coverage of the grand opening of a new video store, and a whimsical little piece about the old gentleman who’d been a crossing guard in front of the elementary school for more than twenty years. Lindsey had written most of those articles, leaving coverage of local ball games, fishing tournaments and city council meetings for Riley, and recipes and household hints for Ella Painter, a retired home economics teacher.

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