Bad Boy's Touch (Firemen in Love Book 3) (20 page)

BOOK: Bad Boy's Touch (Firemen in Love Book 3)
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A bulldozer stood empty by the stoplight. Yes, perfect.

I parked across the way and sprinted for it, praying its driver had been dumb enough to leave the keys in the ignition.

No such luck, of course. Could a bulldozer be hot wired? I'd certainly done my fair share of that back in my juvenile-delinquent days.

Then something shiny overhead caught my attention. Dangling from the rear-view mirror was a single key on a bottle-opener keychain.

I grabbed the key, jammed it into the ignition, and turned.

My prayers were answered as the vehicle roared to life. Now what, though?

I was used to driving large trucks, but this was nothing like that. What did that lever do over there? Oh, it made the shovel thing go up and down.

“Gas... Steering wheel... Maybe it's not that different from a typical car,” I reasoned.

I slammed on the pedal; the dozer lurched forward. People at the stoplight were watching me with baffled expressions. Had to hurry this up before someone figured out what was up and called the cops.

Yeah, Madison would not be pleased if she got sent out here to arrest me.

Parking this thing in the center of the narrow road would be enough to block the firetrucks from getting up there. They'd likely go with extinguishers on foot, but by the time they reached it, it would be too late.

Just what I wanted to happen.

Getting the vehicle to move wasn't the hard part. It wasn't easy to turn a machine of this size.

“Come on, you slow piece of crap. Just a bit further.”

My foot slipped; the bulldozer hurtled down the hill before I could force it to stop. I collided head-on with a huge pecan tree, with the shovel taking the full force of the impact.

What followed was a horrible cracking noise. I sat still for a moment, trying to figure out what it was.

Then the pecan tree began to sway and topple.

I launched myself out of the driver's seat into the road just as the tree plummeted to the ground. It fell atop the still-running bulldozer, branches smashing through the windshield where I'd sat only seconds ago.

People in the street stopped to point and take pictures. I got the hell out of there before they figured out it was my doing.

“Well, that didn't go exactly as planned,” I muttered. “But it will do.”

I parked in the drugstore parking lot across the road and watched Freddy's mansion burn. The flames were high and violent, probably fueled by lighter fluid or some sort of chemical starter.

Minutes later, a truck showed up. Several of our guys piled out and gawked at the mess blocking the street.

“Damn it,” yelled Billy. “What is this doing here? No way can we get the truck past this.”

Oliver gazed up the hill at the burning mansion. “Stop wasting time. Grab whatever gear you can carry and get your asses up there. There could be people inside.”

They grabbed their equipment and rushed up the hill. Hopefully, they were too late to save that piece of human trash.

My thoughts were dark then, and I was powerless to stop them. I hoped that Freddy suffered the way he made his victims suffer. Those innocent girls didn't deserve to die. I'd get revenge for them. I would do what the worthless legal system wouldn't.

I watched the fire for a few minutes, then headed off for home.

Chapter 14 - Madison

 

The arsonist had struck again.

“Sixty-five-year-old Freddy Ventura lost his home yesterday in a blaze thought to be purposely set. He is unharmed but his girlfriend, Melody Carr, suffered minor burns and damages from smoke inhalation.”

I found Jenna watching the news with wide, freaked-out eyes. Oh, no.

“This is the latest in a string of unexplained fires that the Waco Fire Department believes are related,” continued the reporter. “Police investigation is pending.”

I swiped the remote off the couch and shut down the TV. Jenna's gaze shifted to me.

“Mad, did you know about this?”

I'd hoped to shield her from reality, but that couldn't be possible forever. Ugh, if only Victor put more effort into the case, we might have caught the culprit by now.

“We've been... looking into it, yeah.”

She curled her arms around her legs and rocked back and forth. I put a hand on her back in sympathy. It had taken years for her nightmares to cease, and now this?

“Is he going to come after us next?”

“No. That's not going to happen.”

“But how do you know? Just like the guy who burned down our house, and they never caught him. What if it's the same person, and he's coming back to finish the job?”

She was working herself up into a panic. I wanted to fix it, to make her pain go away, but I couldn't.

“It's not the same guy,” I said calmly. “And there's no need to be afraid. It seems the arsonist only goes after criminals, not good people like you.”

She nodded, clearly not believing me.

The ringing phone called me away from her side. Brett?

“I assume you heard the news,” he said when I picked up. “Our man is at it again.”

“Yes, I know. This has to stop.” I went out on the porch where Jenna couldn't hear. “It's one thing for the bastard to go after the bad guys. But when innocent people get put in harm's way...”

He hesitated. “Innocent? Who do you mean?”

“The fire at the Ventura mansion yesterday. He got out, but his girlfriend was trapped inside. She's alive, but didn't escape without injuries.”

“Oh,” he muttered, his voice wavering. “That's awful.”

“I'm going to give Victor a piece of my mind. That idiot's head has been on backwards for long enough.”

Brett didn't reply for a moment. He just breathed heavily into the phone, as if distracted.

Not by another woman, I hoped. Not after the other night, when somehow, against all logic, he'd actually managed to impress me.

A little bit, anyway.

“Hey,” I said, trying to get his attention. “Victor's the chief of police
and
my shitty ex. Confronting him with being wrong is like signing your own pink slip.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is.”

“You think I should go through with it, or just sit down and shut my mouth like he expects women to do?”

He laughed. “I dunno about him, but I prefer you when you're being demanding. Makes it that much more fun when I finally get to take control in the bedroom.”

“Uh, now is not a good time for that kind of talk.”

Even though I wanted him again, right now. Sleeping with him somehow made me feel as if everything in the world would be right again. Nonsense, yet...

“Listen, Maddie,” he said softly. “You're a total badass. Don't let Victor get under your skin.”

“Thanks, I guess. Um, did you just call me Maddie?”

“I thought it sounded nice. You don't like it?”

I thought for a moment. “Actually, I do.”

One of his firefighter buddies yelled for him to get the truck. He cursed back at them.

“Guess that means our time is up. I'll be heading down to the Ventura house to inspect. With what evidence we find, shouldn't be hard to prove arson. Maybe that will be enough to get Victor's attention.”

Someone was dialing me on the other line. It made me sad. I didn't want to stop talking to Brett. His voice calmed me, made me believe this mess would be over soon and Jenna and I were going to be okay.

But the call was coming from the station, so I told Brett goodbye and switched over to it.

“Hey, Harvey. What's up?”

“You gotta get down here. Victor's on one of his rampages, and you know how that'll end up if you don't talk sense into him.”

“What, me?”

“He cares about you. Maybe he'll simmer down if you show up.”

I laughed about that on the way to the office. Victor didn't really care about me; he just wasn't accustomed to anyone telling him no.

When I arrived, the station was a hotbed of activity. Phones rang off the hook with folks reporting a “suspicious person” who they thought was the arsonist, and could we please come and check because they were scared?

“There's no covering this up anymore.” Harvey gestured to the TV. “People are paranoid. Afraid of some shadowy figure burning their houses to the ground.”

“Indeed. It seems we have ourselves a serial arsonist after all.”

The room hushed. Victor stood in the doorway, an imposing figure to everybody but me.

“I told you this was happening,” I muttered. “You didn't want to listen. Assured me there was no arsonist. Now this guy is on a witch hunt and everyone in this area knows it.”

The other officers gaped at me. Some whispered. I knew they were talking crap about me, but didn't care anymore.

Victor smiled. “Good to see you could make it, dear. I'd like you and Harvey to step into my office, please.”

I hated when he called me dear. It was condescending and embarrassed me in front of the guys. Still, I kept my mouth shut and followed Harvey.

Victor shut the door with a sigh. “This madman is out of control,” he said. “Since you're incapable of finding the culprit on your own, Madison, I'm assigning Harvey to help you.”

Harvey refused to look at me. Judging by the expression on his face, he'd known this was coming.

I stormed up to Victor. “Incapable? You're the one who told me the arsonist didn't exist. That the fires were accidental. To lay off the investigation.”

He waved me away. “I didn't want to see you harmed. Certainly, I hoped the man would stop his deplorable actions, but it seems he's planning to continue this crime spree. That's why I'm having Harvey assist you in tracking him down.”

“You kept me from doing my job because you thought I couldn't handle it?” I slammed my fist down on his desk. “That's obstructing justice, not to mention surely breaking several labor laws. If I reported you for this –”

His face reddened and he sneered at me. “Report me to who, hmm? I'd choose your words carefully, sweetheart.”

“Now, that's enough,” Harvey said, stepping between us. “Madison's just eager to find this guy. We all are.”

Victor sank into his chair with a nod. “Yes, I suppose we're a bit on edge lately. Both of you, head to the Ventura house and investigate. I expect answers as soon as possible.”

I strode out of his office, suddenly understanding why Brett liked to get into fights. I, too, felt like beating the shit out of Victor right now.

“He's totally lost it,” I said to Harvey as we drove to Freddy's house. “Did you hear the things he said? He tried to keep me from doing my job. He let buildings burn while turning a blind eye, all because he wanted to protect me? I don't buy it.”

“It sure is strange. Sounds like an excuse, but for what?”

That was a good question. I thought about it while watching the rosary swing from Harvey's mirror.

What real reason would he have for allowing a criminal to run loose? Whatever the answer, it didn't much matter. Victor was the police chief; it was his job to uphold the law, not hinder it.

“And why now, all of a sudden, does he send us after the guy? I feel like this is some big game to him and he's just using me, but I can't figure out for what.”

Harvey said nothing for a moment. Then, at the next red light, he turned and studied me.

“I've been on the force longer than you. Me and Victor, we worked together for years. This ain't the first time he's arranged matters in his favor.”

“What do you mean, arranged?”

He leaned back in his seat and sighed. “He does whatever he needs in order to keep up his squeaky-clean appearance. For instance, there was this prostitute he used to hook up with. I don't think nobody else knew, but I did.”

My stomach lurched. “A
prostitute?

And he'd slept with me, too. I seriously needed to go home and take a boiling-hot shower – then to the clinic for a full battery of STD tests.

“Yeah. Of course, that's the kind of thing a police chief cannot be caught doing. Well, back in the day there used to be a big problem with hookers roaming the streets. Folks were up in arms, saying they were ruining the family-friendly image of our city. Demanded the police do something about it.”

“I think I remember; I was still in college then. So Victor screwed someone over to save himself.”

He chuckled. “You bet. He knew where a lot of the girls hung out, in some old office building you'd never suspect otherwise. Determined to look like a hero, he sent a squad there and had them arrested, single-handedly wiping out the prostitution problem in less than twenty-four hours.”

I was very grateful I'd had the good sense to demand condoms with Victor. How many times he'd tried to convince me to go without... Yuck.

“Point is, I bet my bottom dollar the same's going on with our arsonist.”

“But what is he getting out of this? Why let it go on this long?”

“Maybe the bigger the threat, the more of a hero he'll be when the guy's finally caught. Just imagine: the culprit has the city in a grip of fear. When they're desperate for someone to save them, he swoops in to save the day – while us foot soldiers do the dirty work, naturally.”

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