Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Her Holiday Family\Sugar Plum Season\Her Cowboy Hero\Small-Town Fireman (5 page)

“You
have
done this before.”

Approval softened the deep timbre of Max's tone. He stepped down onto the porch and reached low to pet Beezer. “He was little more than a pup when I joined the service.”

“Yup.”

“He's gotten old.”

“That'll happen.” She couldn't sugarcoat things for him. Sure, he was devoted to the service, to making rank, to moving up, but he'd stayed away on purpose. And that was inexcusable.

“I wish I'd been here.”

His honest admission defused her resentment. She expected him to make excuses, to launch a well-prepared defensive explaining his choices and lauding his service.

He did no such thing. He just sank down onto the floor and petted the old dog's head silently.

She didn't know what to say, what to do. He'd surprised her. She'd spent years wishing she had a family like this, a family that clung together through thick and thin, while Max had brushed them off.

But she hadn't expected outright, blatant honesty. Hearing his regret said she might have been too harsh in her initial assessment.

“Do you have a dog, Tina?”

She'd never had any pets. Why was that? she wondered, seeing the love bond reignite between Max and Beeze. “I don't, no.”

“But you're so good with him.” Max tipped his head back and looked at her, and there it was again, that glimmer of assessment, appraisal. “Like you're born to love animals.”

“I get my share of loving when I come over here,” she told him. She stood, gathered her purse and slung it over her shoulder crosswise. “That's plenty. It's tough to give an animal all the love and care it needs when you're working all the time.”

His nod said he understood.

His eyes said something different altogether.

But no matter what Max thought, Tina understood the motivations behind her singular actions. When everything you've ever loved...or thought you loved...went away, alone was just plain better.

* * *

Max's cell phone buzzed him awake in the middle of the night. He answered it quietly, not wanting to disturb his parents, but knowing it must be important for his brother Seth to place a call at that hour. “What's up? Do you need help? I can be there in five minutes.”

“Only if you break all the speed limits, and yes, I need you here. Now.”

Max was half-ready before his brother placed the request. “Are you okay? Is it the babies? What's going on?”

“My family's fine,” Seth assured him.

Max breathed a sigh of relief. Seth's wife, Gianna, had given birth to fraternal twins in early summer. Mikey and Bella were the sweetest things God ever put on the planet, and he'd felt a fierce shot of protective love when he'd met them for the first time the week before.

“Someone was snooping around the remains of Tina's place on the water, then cut through the pass between the church and the hardware store. I'd just finished feeding Mikey and saw a flash of movement at the edge of the light. I don't think he or she knows they've been spotted.”

“I'm on my way.”

Max bolted for the car once he'd quietly closed the kitchen door to the side entrance. He started the engine, backed out of his parents' drive slowly, then picked up speed as he cruised toward the village at the northern point of Kirkwood Lake. In town, he drove past the hardware store as if it was perfectly normal for traffic to pass through Kirkwood in the middle of the night. He turned right onto Overlook Drive, passed Seth's house deliberately, then let the car glide to a silent stop. He turned the engine off, slipped from the driver's seat and leaned the door shut. If anyone was still around, he didn't want to ruin the false sense of security he'd just created.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly. He spotted Seth's unmoving frame at the far edge of his carriage-style garage. Max walked around the garage, hoping Seth recognized his maneuver. When Seth melded back into the shadows on the far side of the angled garage, Max knew he understood. They met up on the farthest, darkest edge of the building. “Have you seen him again?”

Seth shook his head. “No. But I've been watching to see if he came back.”

“Was he at the hardware store? Do you think someone's trying to break in? Or set another fire?”

Backlit by the outside house lights, Max couldn't see Seth's face, but he read the consternation in his tone. “I'm not sure. It seemed the original intent was to find something in the ashes of the café.”

“This person was crawling through a roped-off crime scene?”

“Yes.”

Max could only think of one reason why anyone would grope their way through the ashes of Tina's cafe in the middle of the night: to find something that might incriminate them. “Man? Woman? Child?”

“No way to tell. Too far and too dark. But whoever it was moved quick and light.”

“Probably a woman or a kid.”

“I hate to think either,” Seth admitted, “but that was my gut reaction, too.”

“I'll go the long way around the store, circling the outside of the church and the cemetery behind,” Max said. He clicked his watch to mark time. “In four minutes you come around the front to the back entrance of Dad's store. I'll flash my pen from the edge of the cemetery woods. And we'll go in together.”

“You packing?” Seth wondered aloud.

“Always.” Skill with handguns had become intrinsic to Max years ago. Going through life armed and ready was second nature now.

“Just don't shoot me, okay?”

“It
is
dark,” Max whispered as he slipped along the back of the garage, then into the shadows of the tree-lined street. Strewn leaves would have marked his presence on a dry night, but the late-day rain silenced his movement. He slipped along the front edge of the graveyard, then through the forested southern border. If this person was targeting area businesses to burn, or searching to remove incriminating evidence, Max was going to make sure he or she didn't get any farther than Dad's hardware store parking lot. Unless they'd already made their way home, wherever that was, and in that case, they'd let the authorities figure it out. Right now, with Seth covering his back, Max knew he was in the driver's seat.

“Stop right there.”

Max froze.

“I've already called the police, and if you move, I'll—”

“Tina?” He turned, hands up, and peered into the trees. “Where are you?” he whispered. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Max?”

If there'd been time or if he was sure she wasn't pointing a gun at his back, he'd have banged his head against one of the nearby trees in frustration. As it was, he held perfectly still until he made out her shape—well, half her shape—behind one of the sprawling maples planted nearly eighty years before. For one split second he wondered if it had been Tina that Seth had spotted in the rubble...but it couldn't have been.

Could it?

Why would Tina be snooping around the ruins of her burned-out café, the place she loved so much?

She's pretty anxious to leave this town behind. Anxiety can push people to do things they'd never do normally.

“I saw someone,” she whispered as she crept through the trees.

Tina lived in an upstairs apartment on Overlook Drive, kitty-corner from Seth's house. Her front windows overlooked Kirkwood Lake and Main Street. At this point, Max was actually surprised they hadn't been joined by a cast of thousands, which was just as likely as having four people roaming Main Street in Kirkwood in the dead of night. “What did you see?”

“Someone moving around the timbers of the café.”

“And do you make it a habit of being up in the middle of the night, checking out Main Street?”

“I didn't used to,” she retorted, and he didn't have to listen hard to hear the sting in her voice. “I used to sleep soundly. And then someone burned down my business, and I'm lucky I sleep at all. And at this point, the three hours I got tonight will probably be it, because how can I crawl back into bed and fall asleep after all this?”

Jenny's words rushed back, how she'd lost sleep and her appetite in the aftermath of an accidental fire as a young mother. How much worse must it be to think you were targeted?

Tina pointed west toward Seth's house. “I woke up and saw Seth's lights on. I worried that one of the babies might be sick. When he came creeping outside, I knew something was up. I looked further and saw something. Someone,” she corrected herself, “moving through the remains of the café.”

“Doesn't anyone sleep around here anymore?” Seth's voice entered the conversation from the near side of the church parking lot.

“It appears not.” Max decided the time for subterfuge was over. He flicked the flashlight of his cell phone on. “Tina saw someone, too.”

“She did, huh?” Seth moved forward, frowned, then yawned. “Well, between the three of us, we've managed to give away any tiny advantage we might have had. Max, did you see anything?”

“Other than Tina? No.”

He directed the light toward her. She flushed.

“Me, neither. So whoever it was didn't hang around tonight, but I don't like that he or she hightailed it up here toward Dad's store when he thought he'd been spotted.”

“Me, neither. I could start sleeping here. Add an ounce of Fort Bragg protection to the local mix.”

“Mom would go crazy with that. And Dad would worry, and the last thing we want to do is make Dad worry.”

“No argument there. So what do we do?”

“For now, go home.” Tina offered the suggestion as she turned back toward Overlook Drive. “Although the likelihood of getting more sleep is pretty much impossible now.”

“Because?” Max left the comment open-ended, hoping for the right answer. She supplied it, and wasted no time doing it.

“There's only one reason someone would be poking around the ashes of my hard work,” she answered quickly, and he read the thick emotion in her voice. “And that's because they're looking for evidence that puts them at the scene of the fire. Which means the supposition of arson just became a reality in my head.”

Chapter Four

S
he looked like someone had just stolen her best friend, her favorite toy and her puppy all at once. A sheen of tears brightened her eyes, and Max resisted the pull for sympathy until her chin quivered.

That did it.

He reached out and gathered her in for a hug. Tina's expression reflected the very emotions his mother had shared over supper. Fear. Questioning. Guilt. Remorse.

Not eating.

Not sleeping.

Barely existing.

He hugged her close, letting her cry against his shoulder. He heard Seth slip off into the shadows, retracing his steps back home. When the tears paused, he looped an arm around her shoulders and headed for the sidewalk.

“Where are we going?”

“I'm walking you home.”

“This is the long way,” she whispered, then scrubbed the arm of her sweatshirt across her face, total tomboy. “No tissues.”

“I see that.” He quirked a tiny smile down to her. “Could've asked me, you know.”

“You carry tissues in your pocket?”

“No. But you could have asked.”

Her smile said she was feeling better. She moved a step ahead and waved him off. “I can find my own way home. You don't have to walk me, Max.”

He pulled her right back by his side and reestablished that arm around her shoulders. “I do. First, if there's someone lurking in the shadows, I can't exactly leave you alone to discover them, can I?”

“Well, no, I suppose not, but you don't need to put your arm around me.”

“Wrong again. If anyone sees us, we want them to think we're taking a leisurely romantic stroll around town, not staking out felonious criminals.”

“At four forty-five in the morning?”

“Last I knew there was no clock on romance, Tina. It is what it is.”

“I actually prefer folks assuming we're on a clandestine mission than star-crossed lovers, Max. In this town, the latter gets you into a lot more trouble. Everyone knows and rarely forgets. Take it from the voice of experience.” She paused and he did, too, looking down. “Fishbowl romance isn't fun.”

“The joys of small-town living.” He walked her past his car and to her door. “I'll see you at nine, okay? But if you do fall asleep and want to sleep in, that's fine. Earl's in early and we can handle things.”

“I might, then. Thank you, Max.”

She looked up at him. Met his gaze.

Maybe it was the flicker of fresh-washed moonlight now that the rain had passed. Maybe it was the way the soft night breeze lifted the short tendrils of her hair, dancing them around her face. Or the way her mouth parted slightly, looking up, as if wanting to say more...

Do more.

He breathed deep, holding her gaze, wondering what it would be like to lean closer. Touch his mouth to hers. See what Tina Martinelli was all about.

“Max, you want coffee?” Seth's rather loud attempt at whispering effectively ended the moment. “I figured it's late enough, we might as well start the day.”

Tina stepped back.

So did Max.

And as Seth lumbered out of the shadows of his Dutch Colonial across the street, the sound of a car squealing east on Main Street said someone had just made a quick getaway, and in a tiny, quiet town like Kirkwood, the noise stood out. Blocked by trees and houses, they couldn't make out the car, or even ascertain where it had been parked, but that told Max two things: one, the car hadn't looked out of place, or Seth would have noticed it. Therefore the car was a regular visitor to this end of town.

And two, that they were on the right track in circling around the small business center of Main Street, Kirkwood Lake, because someone was up to no good.

The question was who?

He turned back toward Tina.

She'd paled at the sound of the car, and he didn't have to explain the car's presence or rapid retreat. The stark look of her face said she got it.

But wished she didn't.

“We'll figure this out,” he promised. “In the meantime, you could always come stay at the house. Mom would love the company, and you wouldn't be alone.”

Her jaw jutted, stubborn. “I've gotten used to being alone. And Seth's right there, across the street. Most people don't want to mess with a county sheriff if they can avoid it.”

“But your apartment backs up to the cemetery and the woods leading to the highway,” Max argued. “And Seth has to sleep now and again, although with two babies, that's a trick in itself.” He didn't add that someone had torched the business not far from Seth's home, clearly not worried about a sleeping sheriff's deputy.

“I thank God for their grandmothers every day,” Seth droned, yawning. “Shift work has proven to be a marvelous thing. But Max is right, Tina. Most arsonists target something. In this case it's either you—”

Max hated the stark look that came into her eyes as she glanced south toward the burned-out building.

“—Sol Rigby or the town. Sol's out on Log Cabin Road, and it's pretty tricky to get to his cabin without being seen. If it's the town, then this guy could strike again anytime. We took precautions on Gianna's business and the hardware store with increased security cameras and alarms, but that doesn't mean he can't get around those to start a fire. But what if he's targeting you personally, Tina?” Seth crossed his arms and stared her down, and instead of getting mad like she'd have done with Max, she looked resigned. “How do we keep you safe?”

“Right now, all I want is to be warm,” she retorted. She pulled her hoodie tighter and moved toward the side door leading up to her apartment. “We'll discuss this later. Whoever it is has left for the night, and I can't think straight on little sleep and no coffee. Good night, guys.”

She slipped into the side door, locked it, and Max and Seth waited until they saw her light blink on upstairs.

Max turned toward Seth. “I don't like this.”

“Me, either.”

“We're caught in the middle, not knowing what's really going on until we get to scene two, which is usually another fire.”

“And no one wants that.”

“But figuring this out with three diverse directions will take legwork.”

“I'm calling the fire chief and the arson investigation squad once we're at first light,” Seth assured him. “I don't know what this guy—”

“Or woman.”

Seth acknowledged that with a nod. “What he or she was looking for, but the team will want to comb things carefully again before they can clean that mess up. Which means the eyesore of a burned-out building might be around for a while unless the investigators feel confident that they've got everything they need. Not exactly the draw for the Christmas light festival we hoped for. By the way.” Seth pulled the storm door open and let Max move into the house ahead of him. “Do you need help with the festival stuff? I know everything's gotten kind of dumped on you, and it's your own stupid fault for staying away so long, but you are my kid brother and I'll help. If I have to.”

Max started to laugh, realized the house was still mostly asleep, stifled the instinct and shook his head. “You take care of babies, that cute wife, your various new Italian relations and your job. Plus guarding the town. I can handle the lights.”

His words sounded braver than he felt, but he'd put the lighting array folders into his car the night before so he wouldn't forget them this morning. If he grabbed some slow minutes at the hardware store today, he'd go through the schematics and get an idea of how the lake-wide show worked.

He'd tackled some pretty impressive jobs overseas. He'd learned to blend, build and dismantle secretive missions on a moment's notice. But those had been on the down-low. If he messed up no one but he and his team knew, and they were trained to improvise on a moment's notice.

Not one of those clandestine missions made him as nervous as the possibility of messing up Christmas for an entire town. If for no other reason than to make up for times he was a jerk as a teenager, Max wanted this festival to go right. It was the least he could do. And with the upcoming committee meeting, he'd be face-to-face with folks from his past, including Pete's mom. Truth to tell, he wasn't sure how to handle that.

* * *

“Max!” Mary Sawyer claimed a hug the moment she laid eyes on Max the next night. The embrace felt good...and bad all at once. The mix of emotions tunneled Max back in time. The Sawyers' beachfront yard, the campfire, the bottle Pete had paid a college guy to buy. If he'd put a stop to Pete's foolishness then, would Mary Sawyer's son and his girlfriend be alive now?

“It's so good to see you.” Mary's warm voice softened his flashback. “Look at you! All grown up, and so handsome. We're so proud of you, Max.” She gripped his arm in a show of support and affection. “I hope your mother's told you that. Every summer we put up honor flags along Main Street, remembering our men and women in the service, and I make sure yours is right there, dead center, for everyone to see. Welcome home, Max.”

His heart churned.

Seeing Pete's mom, being wrapped in her motherly embrace, felt like old times. But Max was a trained army officer. He'd stayed alive doing clandestine work because he knew better than to wallow in false security. Mary Sawyer was gushing over him because she remembered the good times...

And because she didn't know the whole truth. Only three people knew the full extent of what happened that hot August night, and two of them were gone.

Guilt climbed his spine, then tightened his neck. Several other committee members came through Carmen Bianchi's door just then, including Tina. One of them called Mary's name. She patted his cheek and moved off to talk with an unhappy-looking woman. Max didn't recognize her, but within two minutes of opening the meeting, he realized that if he was marking friend and foe, this woman would be firmly in the latter column.

“There's no way that can work,” she insisted when Tina went through Charlie's basic plan. “You don't know me, Max Campbell, but I've been on this committee for eight years, and I can't believe we don't have a more detailed description of what goes where than that.” She pointed to the folder of papers Max laid out on the table of Carmen's living room. “We have to have everything constructed and ready to go in a week. I don't see that happening.”

“We've got a contract with Holiday Lighting out of Buffalo, Georgia.” Mary Sawyer sent Georgia Palmeteer a calming look. “They take care of the park display. The town does the Main Street lighting, same as always, and Max will oversee the rest. Most folks do their own thing, so it's not like he even has all that much to do. I think he'll do just fine.” She beamed a smile his way, and once again the thought of what should have been broadsided him. He needed to come clean, and he needed to do it soon because enduring her understandable wrath was far better than letting a nice woman like Mrs. Sawyer think he was a great guy.

Aren't you a great guy?

Now? Yes.

Back then? No.

Pete and Amy's accident was a long time ago. You were a kid. Look at the facts, man. Your buddy had a wild streak those last couple of years. It wasn't your job to look after him.

Max knew better. They'd been friends a long time. Pete was like a brother to him, and if there was one thing Campbell brothers did well, it was take care of one another. When they weren't beating on each other, that is.

“We've left the majority of a massive fund-raiser in the hands of someone who doesn't write down what needs to be done,” retorted Georgia. “That's plain carelessness.”

“Oh, Georgia, really.” Mary rolled her eyes. “It's gone fine every single year. Why are you all up in arms over this?”

“We Palmeteers like things done right,” she snapped, and her pretentious tone said she didn't think all too much of Mary Sawyer's more casual attitude. “Leaving things to chance is for amateurs. Folks pay good money to come here for the drive through the park and the Main Street Festival. I, for one, don't take that lightly.”

“Having Max on board offers us an opportunity for change,” Tina remarked.

The committee shifted their attention to her.

“Max and the guys might not do everything exactly the way Charlie would have done it, but as long as we have everything lit and beautiful, what difference does it make?”

“Because we like things the way they are, young lady.” Georgia's clipped tone said she didn't appreciate being brought to task by someone half her age.

“With an aging population, it's probably good for us to get used to change now and again,” offered Carmen Bianchi as she rolled an old-fashioned tea cart into the room. “As the younger generation takes over, we have two options, to compromise and trust them to lead the way or give up. And I never give up on anything so, Max Campbell, you have my vote.” She smiled at Max and indicated the cart with a dip of her chin. “I know this isn't as fancy as what we used to get at Tina's café, but Tina did the baking so we know that part is wonderful.”

“Well, that's another thing,” Georgia groused as she bustled to be first at the portable coffee setup. “Tina's done the majority of food for the park vendors and for our ‘Christmas on Main Street' day. How are we going to manage this with her business gone? I say we tap into The Pelican's Nest restaurant and see if Laura will help with food. I mean, it seems silly not to ask her with Tina's place out for the count.”

* * *

Georgia's careless words stabbed Tina's gut.

She'd half-expected someone to come up with this idea, and it wasn't a surprise that it was the town supervisor's ill-tempered sister, but to have her spout it here, in front of the whole committee, without putting it on the agenda or checking with her... She felt blindsided, and rightfully so. It wasn't as if the entire town didn't know her broken family history and the animosity Rocco had shown her for years.