Home Fires (7 page)

While no suspects have yet been named, the investigation continues. Residents are asked to contact the fire department with any information they have concerning the incident. Any tips will be kept strictly confidential.

Arson is a second-degree felony punishable by a $15,000 fine and ten years imprisonment or both.

____________________________________

Tommy Gilbert took the glass of iced tea Rose offered and drained it in one thirsty gulp.

“Thanks, Cecil. Man, I wish this weather would break. Mowing lawns is hot work, especially in this heat.” He wiped the sweat from his face and neck with a rag from his back pocket.

“Why don’t you quit for the day and come back tomorrow, Tommy? It’s supposed to be cooler then. Mom won’t be home from the hospital until Saturday and I don’t care if you leave things like this tonight.”

“Naw, thanks anyway, but it’s not worth it. Joey will get mad if I didn’t finish up. Now he owns the business, he likes to play the big man and tell me what to do.”

Rose bit her lip as she refilled his iced tea. She didn’t envy Tommy working for his brother. Tommy’s older brother Joey had been her classmate for twelve straight years in school, and he’d been obnoxious and overbearing even back then. She could only imagine how demanding he was now, being the boss.

Tommy finished off the second glass of iced tea as quickly as his first and handed it to Rose with a crooked grin. “Back to the grind. I tell you, Cecil, never work for your brother… but then, you won’t never have that problem since you don’t have any brothers or sisters. Lucky you.” He started down the kitchen porch steps but halted as a cherry-red pickup pulled into the driveway. “Hey, what gives? You expecting company?”

The two of them watched as Michael Gallagher slid out of his truck. He gave them a small wave as he headed toward them.

“Who’s that guy?” Tommy’s face scrunched in a frown.

“His name is Michael Gallagher,” she answered coolly. “We were supposed to have dinner tonight.” And he was late. Nearly an hour late. In her world, people were on time or had a damn good excuse. Sauntering into a courtroom fashionably late didn’t sit well with the judge or jury.

“Actually, I prefer Mike,” he said as he neared the back porch. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help overhearing.” He climbed the steps and offered Tommy a hand. “The name’s Mike Gallagher.”

Tommy’s face blossomed in a self-conscious grin. He wiped his hand clean against the back of his faded jeans, stuck out his hand and pumped Mike’s own. “Tommy Gilbert. Nice truck. Is it new?” His gaze was riveted in rapt admiration toward the driveway.

“Pretty much. There aren’t too many miles on it,” Mike volunteered, with a fast smile for Rose.

“Mind if I check it out?” Tommy didn’t wait for an answer. He stepped off the porch and headed for the truck.

“Sorry I’m late,” Mike said. “I was at the fire station and just about to leave when the fire marshal stopped by. He just left.”

Her heart softened somewhat. “That’s all right,” she said. Sometimes things happen. Everyone deserved a second chance.

“You ready?”

“I am.” She’d dressed for their dinner in a short, sleeveless shift in a colorful swirl of salmon pink and lemon yellow. Her long black hair was pulled up, cool in a fashionable knot at the back of her head, though she already felt some strands pulling loose. Her feet were in sandals. She’d even taken the time to paint her toenails red with a bottle of scarlet lacquer filched from her mother’s bathroom vanity. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent her time doing something as frivolous and feminine as painting her toenails. But it was summer and she wanted to dress light. To think light and feel light.

Forget the law. She wanted to feel like a girl.

“I don’t know…” he said. Rose caught the look on Mike’s face as his gaze quickly traveled the length of her body. Was he preparing some long-winded tease? She silently vowed not to take any forthcoming compliments from him seriously. No matter what he said, she would
not
blush.

Mike glanced down at his khaki slacks and short-sleeved shirt, then back at her with a sudden doubtful look. “Guess I should have gotten more dressed up. You look so pretty, and I don’t think I… well…”

“You don’t have to change, not for me,” she hastily replied. “You look perfect just the way you are.”

He
did
look perfect. Perfectly wonderful.

Their eyes met, held and locked, and for one brief moment, she saw the hint of something in his gaze—a vulnerable, uncertain look she couldn’t name or place. She tried to inhale, but it was hard to breathe. A shiver snaked up her spine. It felt as if the hot summer air had been sucked away by some strange eternal vortex. Something about this fireman left her unsettled and shy in a way she hadn’t felt for a very long time. He was different than any of the other men she knew. He didn’t carry a briefcase and he didn’t wear a suit… unless you counted the heavy yellow fire coat, suspender pants, and big black boots with steel toes that were part of his regular ensemble whenever duty called.

They headed down the porch steps. Tommy Gilbert still hadn’t started up the mower. He stood in the driveway, checking out the interior of Mike’s truck through the open window.

“Nice truck,” he said as they joined him near the driver’s door. “How big is the engine?”

“V-8,” Mike replied.

“Man, this thing is loaded.” Tommy Gilbert whistled in admiration as he scanned the interior. “Check it out, Cecil. Air conditioning, four-wheel drive… hey, what’s that?” He pointed to a large interior console with a microphone mounted directly to the right of the steering wheel.

“A two-way radio,” Mike replied.

“Mike is a fireman,” Rose informed him.

Tommy’s eyes widened. He gazed up at the emergency lights fixed atop the truck. “That explains the light bar. You’re with the fire department.”

Mike nodded.

Tommy stroked the hood with a reverent hand. “Are you on call? Like, right now?”

“Twenty-four seven,” Mike replied.

Rose shifted on her feet. Mike’s admission seemed to have fired up her young neighbor’s enthusiasm. The look on Tommy’s face rang a warning bell in her mind. If she and Mike didn’t leave soon, she’d find herself trapped in man talk and lengthy explanations of how the truck’s various pieces of emergency equipment worked.

But Mike already seemed to have noticed her discomfort. “I’ll be glad to drive.” His gaze skimmed briefly over her short summer dress. “That is, if you don’t mind riding in a truck.”

She’d never given a thought as to which of them would drive. After the fender bender with his truck, her mother’s sedan was still at the repair shop, which left only her own little sports car. With low bucket seats and cramped coupe conditions, it wouldn’t exactly be a comfortable ride for someone built like him.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve ridden in a truck, but why not? I’m game.” She wiggled her fingers at Tommy and skirted around the hood to the passenger side, but Mike beat her to the door. He opened it with a flourish.

“After you, Miss Gallagher.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gallagher.” The unexpected chivalrous gesture gave rise to a sweet, heady rush of pure feminine pleasure that had long been forgotten, tucked away somewhere deep inside until this moment. Rose took Mike’s hand and accepted the boost he offered with a grateful smile. Someone had taught him beautiful manners.

He slid behind the driver’s wheel and turned the key in the ignition. Rose couldn’t hide her growing delight as the truck rumbled to life. She’d forgotten how much fun it was to be in a truck, perched high in your seat, looking down on the world as you passed it by. Being in a pickup wasn’t anything like driving in her little roadster, which neatly hugged every narrow curve and shoulder of the highway.

Tonight promised to be lots of fun.

“Remember what I said, Tommy,” she called through the open window as they backed down the driveway. “Forget about the lawn and go on home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya, Cecil.”

“He seems like a nice kid,” Mike said as he pulled out of the driveway.

“He and his family live a couple of blocks down the street.” Rose gave a backward glance at her mother’s house. Tommy Gilbert had resumed his position behind the lawn mower, pushing it with sweaty determination toward the dark blue pickup with
Joey Gilbert’s Landscaping Service
advertised on the side panel.

Mike handled the truck with an expert hand as they rounded the corner and headed for downtown. “He must keep to himself, or maybe he’s not around town much. He’s hard to forget.” His face instantly reddened. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean to insult your friend or imply…”

“It’s all right. You don’t have to explain.” She’d been around Tommy all her life. He was who he was and she was used to it. It always surprised her when other people saw the young man through different eyes than her own. His pockmarks and scars, short stature, and slight scuffle held no mystery for her.

“Tommy’s had a hard time of it. Bad enough he’s the baby of his family. And adolescence wasn’t kind to him. That much is obvious when you see his face.

“You say he works for his brother?”

Rose nodded. “Tommy graduated from high school last year. He wanted to join the Air Force, and he’s been waiting for them to call him up. He only found out recently they weren’t going to take him, so he’s back home now and working for his brother. They take care of lawns, do snowplowing in the winter, that sort of thing. I guess Tommy’s using the summer to figure out what it is he wants to do with his life.”

Just like she was herself, came the sudden thought. Both she and Tommy were spending their summer in the small town where they’d grown up. Both of them were trying to figure out exactly who they were and what they wanted out of life.

But life decisions shouldn’t have to be so hard, especially when it was so hot.

Within a few minutes they were smack dab in the middle of the business district. Mike slowed the truck as they searched for a nonexistent place to park. Tourists were everywhere, wandering the few blocks of the downtown area. Strollers filled the sidewalks, pushed by absentminded fathers, directed by harried mothers.

“I’d forgotten how crowded town can get this time of year,” Rose said as they circled the block one more time. She blew out a frustrated sigh at the backed-up traffic. Such was the price you paid to summer—or live—in James Bay. “Maybe we should swing around the corner and park up by the bank. It’s not a far walk, just a few blocks.“

“Won’t be necessary,” Mike said with a quick grin as he pointed to a loaded minivan pulling out of a coveted parking space a few feet ahead. The cherry-red pickup was next in line—they won the rally.

“You timed that just right.” Rose rewarded him with her best smile.

He shut off the engine and unbuckled his seat belt. “Made up your mind on where we’re eating?” He opened the passenger door.

Rose hesitated as she slid from her seat and joined him on the sidewalk. City life had spoiled her. She’d grown accustomed to having a variety of available restaurants and nightspots to choose from, but her hometown offered limited selection. James Bay’s few restaurants were sharply divided between cheap and pricey, with Chuck’s Tavern and Grill squarely in the middle. But she’d been to Chuck’s only a few nights earlier with the Judge.

“Are you hungry for something in particular?” Negotiating on behalf of clients had taught her you had better luck if all parties were involved in the decision-making process.

“Why don’t we walk around a bit? I think better when I’m moving.”

Was he crazy? It was much too hot out for a casual stroll, but she kept silent. She was the one who’d invited him out to dinner. The least she could do was be polite and play the gracious hostess. If Mike wanted to walk, then they would walk… right into a nice air-conditioned restaurant. She gazed back and forth from the t-shirt shop on her left to the nautical-themed gift shop on her right. “Where do we go from here?”

“Why don’t we head that way?” Mike pointed down the block toward the lake, a cool shimmering oasis of blue. They started down the street, taking one block, then another.

“Hey, smell that? Mmmm, pastrami. My favorite.” Mike halted beneath a pink striped awning with navy blue swirls proudly proclaiming “Diana’s Downtown Deli.” He peered inside the window, then straightened and grinned at her. “What do you think? This looks pretty good to me.”

“Are you sure you really want to eat in there?” The delicatessen was unfamiliar to her. Just another new business venture, one that would most likely be shut down by season’s end. Businesses in James Bay needed to turn a tidy profit in the summertime. Rent in the downtown district was expensive for shopkeepers, especially during the winter months without the tourist trade to sustain them.

Mike shrugged. “What have we got to lose? Worst-case scenario, we get a little heartburn. Come on, it’ll be fun. We can grab some sandwiches and take them over to the park. Have a little picnic down by the water’s edge.”

A picnic in downtown James Bay sounded exactly like something a tourist would do. Rose gave the deli another once-over through the front window. It looked fresh and inviting, but a deli was a deli, no matter how you sliced it. And this place wasn’t at all the type of place she’d imagined they would go for dinner. Was Mike merely trying to be nice? Did he think she couldn’t afford to buy him a good meal?

But she
was
hungry. Best of all, there was no line at the front counter.

A little brass bell tingled above the door as they entered the shop. Tantalizing aromas of spicy meats and fragrant cheeses greeted them. Ten minutes later they were headed out the door with two large paper bags packed with sandwiches, chips, coleslaw, and drinks. Down the street the shimmering lake beckoned. Within minutes, they reached the marina and waterfront. Rose started for a picnic table but Mike shook his head and kept on walking. They ended up in front of a bench close to the water.