Bad Boy's Touch (Firemen in Love Book 3) (27 page)

We reached Brett's place at last. All of us went inside, to the kitchen, where the pot of chili was now ice cold. Didn't matter; I hadn't much of an appetite left.

Charlie sat at the table, a dead, glassy look in his eyes. Brett offered him a beer from the fridge, but he wouldn't accept it.

I, on the other handed, needed a drink after this. I took the bottle from him and chugged, half expecting Brett to make some dumb comment. He didn't.

“Well, uh, I'm sure you must be hungry,” he said. “I'll heat the chili back up while you continue your story.”

“I had my last name changed to ensure I wouldn't be found. I'm not a Finley anymore; I'm Charlie Ferrero now. For a while it worked, and no one found me. I gave up the drugs and tried to start over with an honest life.” He scowled. “Still, with my 'issues,' it was hard to keep a job.”

Jenna hit his shoulder. “Didn't you think for a second how much you were hurting us? Every year we light a candle on your birthday, hoping beyond hope you're still out there and you might come home one day.”

“I didn't want to come home because I knew the truth would hurt even more than my disappearance.”

“No,” I said. “Losing our brother, not knowing what happened to him, was worst of all.”

“I might have changed my mind and come home sooner if I hadn't gotten thrown in jail.”

We all stared at him. I wasn't totally surprised; Jenna and I had always thought he'd end up in prison for something or another.

“A couple years after I settled in there, some new cop showed up on the local force. Now, the police in Mexico are known for being corrupt, but I'd kept my nose clean thus far, so no big deal. This cop, though... There was something odd about him from the get-go. He was white.”

“That makes him odd?” Brett wondered.

“In that part of the country, yes. I caught him watching me, following me in his cruiser, many times. Then one day, he pulled me over and arrested me on the spot.”

“For what?”

“I asked him the same. I was innocent and everyone knew it. But somehow, a few kilos of some drug ended up in my car trunk.”

My jaw fell. “Wait. You're saying he planted it on you – why?”

“Yeah, he did. In Mexico, it's super easy to send a guy to jail just 'cause you don't like him. Police bribes, and all that. This guy hated me, but I didn't get why until he had me locked in a cell.” He shuddered. “He said to me, 'You took my son away. You ruined my life. Now I'm going to ruin yours.'”

“The boy's father hunted you down just to throw you in prison?”

He nodded. “He desperately wanted revenge, and he got it. I was stuck in that jail for eight years until me and some other guys finally managed to break out.”

“
Break out?
” Jenna screamed. “Holy shit, Charlie; you're a
fugitive!
”

I nearly threw up my beer. I thought Brett was bad? He was a Boy Scout compared to my brother.

“What did you expect me to do – serve twenty years behind bars for a crime I didn't commit? In that prison, the rats got your food scraps if you didn't eat fast enough. I got beat up by the guards and other inmates pretty much daily. Even took a knife to the gut once.”

He lifted his shirt and showed us the jagged pink scar.

Victor's face wormed its way into my mind. Framing people was his specialty, and I hated him for it.

Yeah, Charlie was a criminal, but he didn't deserve the hell he'd gone through.

“That's where I've been all this time. Soon as I escaped, I bought passage back to the United States because I knew the authorities would be looking everywhere for me.” He stared into the bowl of chili Brett put before him. “In jail, the only thing that got me through was thinking of you girls. When I got out, I drove straight here, but I couldn't show myself. I was so scared.”

Jenna bawled and hugged him tight. I joined Brett by the oven, where he pretended to be busy tinkering with the food.

“It sounds unreal,” he whispered. “Do you think those Mexican cops will bother hunting him all the way north?”

“No, I doubt it. They've got other, easier prey to bag. They'll likely forget about him after a while.”

He eyed me nervously. “You're not, uh, gonna turn him in?”

“I can't. He's family,” I said. “If there's one thing I learned from you, it's that there are exceptions to every rule.”

Charlie was now devouring his chili. The poor man was so skinny; they'd probably fed him nothing but stale bread in jail.

“Damn, this is delicious,” he mumbled, his mouth full. He glanced at Brett. “You seem like a cool guy. I sure hope you're taking care of my sister.”

Brett chuckled. “I somehow don't think she needs a man's care, but I do try my hardest.”

I was annoyed but somewhat flattered that Charlie seemed to like Brett. Despite his problems, he'd always looked out for us. He was smart, a good judge of character.

“Don't be pissed, but I was kind of keeping an eye on you, too.” He looked him up and down. “I was just wondering: why'd you knock that tree down in front of the firetruck's path? I mean, I've done some dumbass things in my lifetime, but that...”

The tension in the room suddenly seemed to grow thicker. Brett turned red and backed into the stove.

“Brett,” I said calmly. “What exactly is he talking about?”

He hung his head. “I thought there was someone very bad in that house. I... I thought they should pay for their crimes.”

“The Ventura place.” My heartbeat quickened. “You blocked the truck so they couldn't put out the fire because you figured Freddy was in there.”

“I should have told you earlier, and I'm sorry for that.” He ushered me away into the hall. “We knew the arsonist was planning to hit there. We knew Freddy had murdered those girls, that he got out of jail free. When I got the call about the fire, something in me snapped. I felt as if justice had to be served.”

“That's not your call to make!” I pushed him away from me. “And Freddy wasn't even there. You could have killed James and Melody. What were you thinking?”

He slumped against the wall and dabbed his damp eyes. He was on the verge of crying. I had a feeling it took a lot to make Brett cry.

“I
wasn't
thinking. I was just blinded by rage,” he admitted. “My dad used to beat my mom, see. Treated her like shit, and I loathed him for it. Ever since, anyone who mistreats women is an evil bastard in my book. And when I found out what Freddy had done, I thought the world would be much better without him in it.”

“I'm sorry about your mother, but that doesn't give you the right to pull the vigilante justice card and go after people yourself.”

“It wasn't like the courts were gonna take care of it. They let him out because he paid them off, remember? You can't trust the system to do right.”

I trusted it – or at least, I did once. Now that Victor had showed me the ugly side of law enforcement, my faith had been shaken. I didn't know what to believe.

“You could have killed two innocent people because you couldn't control your anger.” I shuddered at the thought. “How could I possibly be with you after this? What's to say you won't lose control again and hurt me or Jenna somehow?”

“I would never lay a finger on you,” he swore.

“I'd like to believe you, but... You're a violent man, Brett. You get in fights and run from the cops for the excitement of it. That's just who you are, and you know damn well you won't ever change.”

“Maddie, come on. That's not fair.” He chased after me. “I'm not
violent.
I don't go attacking people without cause. I don't even own a gun.”

“You don't need one. You do enough damage with your fists alone.”

In the kitchen, Jenna was telling Charlie about the arsonist. I hung in the doorway, flinching when Brett grabbed my arm.

“Another thing: It's not fair of you to call me violent when
you're
the one who begged me to slap you in bed.”

I whirled around and glared. Then it dawned on me that he was right.

Something else came to me, too.

I made him slap me in the face. His father beat his mother. He hated men who hurt women.

Shit, what had I done? He'd seemed so reluctant, yet I pushed him to do it until he gave in.

“What?” he snapped. “You got anymore nasty names you want to call me? Might wanna get it all out of your system before going back in there.”

I should have apologized for that, but I couldn't. I was ashamed of my stupidity – and at the same time, still furious with him for what he'd done.

“We can talk about this later,” I said flatly. “I haven't seen my brother in eighteen years, and I would like to spend some time with him.”

He grunted and went to clean up the mess in the kitchen. I turned my attention back to Charlie.

“So some dude's running around lighting random places on fire?” Charlie's eyes widened. “Wonder if it's the same guy. They never caught him, did they?”

“No, never did.”

“The places aren't exactly random,” I added. “They're related because the victims are all criminals in some way. The arsonist leaves a taunting note after each one, telling us where he'll be going next. Well, except for the most recent hit at the Ventura estate.”

“Ventura,” Charlie repeated. “Name sounds so familiar.”

“He killed five women in Florida, bribed his way out of jail, then set up a drug empire here in Kingston.”

Jenna nodded. “Come to think of it, all the fires so far seem to be at places related to drugs. Meth in particular.”

“Except for the strip club.”

Brett cringed. “Actually, you'd be surprised. Ain't uncommon for illicit substances to trade hands there. Not that I have any personal experience with it, mind.”

“And then there's me,” Charlie said. “You can't prove that's why the arsonist attacked us, but what are the odds?”

The fire at our house happened almost two decades ago. Between then and now, nothing. If it was actually the same arsonist, what was his game? Why burn one house, only to pick it back up again all those years later?

It couldn't be the same person. Probably a coincidence. Right?

“The cop who framed you,” Brett said as he stacked the leftover chili in the fridge. “What was his name?”

“I never found out. None of the inmates knew a thing about him, and once he bagged me, he was gone shortly after. I only ever heard the guards call him 'gringo.'”

“What about the boy who...” I couldn't bring myself to say it. “Know anything about him?”

“His name was Steven Nobono; apparently he'd been adopted from Africa as a child. He was a senior, on the football and swim teams. Nothing much more than that.”

I dropped the bottle I was holding. It clattered to the tiled floor, brown, pungent liquid quickly blanketing the tiles. My heart pounded.

No, this can't be. It's ridiculous. No way.

Everyone gaped at me. Brett reached for my hand.

“What's the matter, Maddie? Is something wrong?”

I swallowed hard. I didn't want to believe it, but suddenly it all made sense.

“Steven Nobono,” I told everyone, “was Harvey's son.”

Chapter 19 - Madison

Harvey kept a picture of Steven on his desk. The boy had died many years ago, as he told anyone who asked, from some foreign disease when he went to visit his homeland.

But if what Charlie said was true, Harvey had been lying all this time. It was a drug overdose that had taken his life.

Why hide it? And more importantly, did that mean Harvey was the one who burned down our house?

The idea was too crazy – and too horrible – to ponder. Still, I had learned to trust nobody, not even those who I considered my closest friends.

It was time to put my detective skills to use.

When I got to work on Monday, there was a news crew there. They were interviewing Victor about his recent successes as police chief.

“This is the biggest case we've solved all year,” he bragged to the reporter. “I am deeply sorry for the material and personal losses caused by the culprit, but at least the city can rest easy knowing a dangerous menace is off the streets.”

Ugh. What I wouldn't give to see him humiliated on public TV for once. Maybe one day that time would come. For now, though, all that mattered was getting to the truth of what happened that day eighteen years ago.

Harvey was sitting in his new office; he'd been promoted to detective in recognition for his “hard work” on the arson case. I knocked on the door and waited for him to ask me in.

He smiled when he saw it was me. “Good to see you, Madison. I have to thank you for your help at the Ventura estate. Without you, I fear we never would have found Freddy's disgusting drug operation – or gotten that blasted arsonist off the street.”

I crossed my arms and glared. He didn't seem bothered even a little.

“How can you honestly live with yourself, putting an innocent guy behind bars? I hope you realize that when this thing goes to trial, he'll easily be proven not guilty.”