The Arsonist (10 page)

Papers rustled in the background. Darcy could imagine Paul shuffling through the mountain of papers on his desk as he searched for a pen. “Consider it done. Anything else?”

“No, that’s it for now.”

Paul’s chair squeaked as she leaned forward. “Has he given you any good information?”

“I’ve studied his case files. They’re very detailed and helpful. And Paul, for now, keep this to yourself.”

“No problem. I’ll get on this search. I’ll call you soon.”

Gannon moved beside Darcy. He stared at her, blue eyes penetrating. She felt skittish when he was close—it was hard to breathe evenly.

“Thanks.” Darcy put the receiver down. “He’s going to do the search in a couple of hours.”

“Good.”

Gannon walked to the window. He stared out at the clouds drifting by, the azure sky. “There are going to be more fires and soon.”

Nervous, she moved to his kitchen where she’d seen a coffeepot earlier. The pot was half full. She poured a cup. It tasted like mud. “Who taught you how to make coffee?”

The light in the window slashed across his face. “I learned from an old fireman. He liked it strong.”

She poured the cup down the sink. “Drinking battery acid has more appeal. Where do you keep your coffee grinds?”

“Above the sink. You don’t have to do that. I’ll make another pot.”

“No, no,” she said holding up her hand. “Let the professional handle this. I’ve been making coffee in the tavern since I was six.”

She found the grinds, dumped out the old. Soon, she was brewing a fresh pot.

He sat on the stool on the other side of the counter and stared at her. “So how did you get from here to D.C.?”

“A long story. And Nero is more important.”

“We’ve got a few spare minutes. Spill it, Sampson. Why’d you run away from home?”

His comment struck a nerve. “Not much to tell. Dad was a drinker. Mom was always in denial. Trevor was the golden child. I never fit. For as long as I can remember I wanted out. I earned a scholarship to Hollins University. I got my degree while working in the tavern. The day I graduated I packed up and left.” She pulled two fresh cups from the cabinet and set them on the counter. “I’m boring.”

“No, you’re not.” A half smile tugged the edge of his lips, but there was no mirth attached to it. “You’re remarkable.” She saw raw sexual desire in his eyes.

Uncomfortable, she said. “So why the switch to bikes?”

He didn’t question her need to shift the spotlight off her life. “Always loved ’em. My old man used to build them. My brother Rafe and I would sit for hours and watch him work. But my kid sister Darla is the genius when it comes to machines. ’Fact, she’s crewing on the NASCAR circuit now as a mechanic.”

“Impressive.” The coffee finished brewing and she filled both the cups.

“No sugar in the house but there is milk in the refrigerator.”

“Great.”

She got the milk and poured what few drops were left in the carton into her cup. “What is it with guys? Two drops left in the milk carton and they still stick it back in the fridge?”

He laughed.

Smiling, she handed him his cup. As he reached for it, his fingers brushed hers.

The sexual chemistry between them snapped. The laughter in his eyes vanished. She knew he’d take her right here in the kitchen if she said the word. Her pulse throbbed in the base of her throat. Her mouth felt dry and her stomach tightened.

In that instant, Darcy knew it wasn’t a matter
if
they landed in bed, but
when.

Chapter 10

G
annon’s body went hard as he stared at Darcy. He’d been doing his best to ignore the tension between them since she climbed on his bike today and hugged her body close to his. He’d felt her breasts pressing against his back and her bare thighs brushing his hips. Throughout the ride, he kept imagining those long legs of hers wrapped around him as he drove into her.

A sane man would have sent her away and taken a cold shower. Distance. Perspective. That’s what he needed.

But he didn’t give a damn about distance or perspective right now. He wanted to taste Darcy.

Setting his cup down, he moved around the counter and before either could analyze too much, he took her face in his hands and kissed her on the lips.

The kiss was gentle at first. Strictly exploratory. And he half expected her to belt him and tell him to get lost.

But she didn’t.

Her lips parted slightly and she relaxed into him. Needing no more encouragement, he teased her lips open wider with his tongue. She accepted him without hesitation.

Darcy wrapped her long bare arms around him and deepened the kiss. God, but she tasted so good.

Her rapid pulse beat through the sleek fabric of her tank top and tapped against his chest. Her excitement matched his own.

Gannon pressed his erection against her thin jogging pants. She moaned softly.

He allowed his hand to drop to her shoulders and then down her spine to her backside. He squeezed her buttocks gently and pushed her against him. Still kissing her, he guided her toward the bed. When the back of her legs bumped into the edge of the bed, he eased her back toward the soft mattress.

He cupped her breast and through the fabric of her jogging top, teased her nipple into a hard peak. “I want to be inside you.”

Darcy froze at the sound of Gannon’s voice. Thick with desire and passion, it broke the spell. Reality crashed through the haze of desire. Losing control wasn’t her style, especially in the bedroom. And she was on the verge of throwing caution to the wind.

She moved her face from his, breaking the kiss. “No, Gannon.”

He was already reaching for his belt buckle when she spoke. His hand stilled. His face was only inches from hers. “What’s wrong?” The words sounded torn from his throat.

“This is not smart, Gannon.”

He kept his hand on her shoulder, as if she were a skittish mare, not a woman who knew when she was crossing the line. “I know.”

She moistened her lips with her tongue. “And as much as I’d like your hands on me, there are practical reasons why we can’t do this. And I’m not just talking about condoms.”

He dropped his head to the nape of her neck. The stubble on his jaw brushed her bare skin like sandpaper. “Are you married? Engaged?” He didn’t sound like he cared for either option.

“No.”

Gannon raised his head and looked her in the eyes. “Then why not?”

She scooted out from under him, needing distance. “We are working together.”

“I can maintain perspective.” He sat up and shoved his long fingers through his hair.

She wasn’t sure if that was true. But she knew she couldn’t sustain any sort of balance if they started sleeping together. “I don’t mix business with sex.”

Gannon watched Darcy move to the other side of the counter. Today had been chock-full of surprises. “Fair enough.”

“Look, I better go now.”

Those long legs of hers would stick with his memory for a good while. He shoved his hand in his pocket. “Right.” A cold shower was definitely in order. “I’ll start assembling surveillance equipment, place them at high risk areas.”

“Great.” She stumbled toward the door. Her hair was mussed and her cheeks flushed. He wasn’t the only one who needed a cold shower. “I’ll call as soon as I hear from Paul.”

“Sure.”

She half walked, half ran out the door. Moving across the apartment to the window that overlooked the alley separating their buildings, Gannon watched her disappear into the tavern.

“When this mess is over, Darcy, I’ll make love to you properly.”

Nero sat outside the elementary school, watching the children play on the playground. Several boys swung from monkey bars, others played touch football while the girls gathered near the swings to whisper secrets that made them all laugh. The teachers visited on a park bench while glancing periodically at the playground.

The day was beautiful, the sky a deep azure and the breeze soft and gentle. It was a perfect day for a fire.

He stared at the school’s brick exterior, imagining his red flames dancing as they devoured the structure. His fires would sway and bend beautifully in the gentle wind today, moving like an exquisite ballerina’s arms swaying in time to the symphony’s music.

He checked his watch. Twelve o’clock.

His fire would come alive in one hour—when all the children were back inside for their afternoon classes.

The only fly in the ointment was the timetable. Nero wanted to take more time in between the fires. He didn’t like to rush. The time after a fire was like the afterglow of great sex. This was the time he studied the damage his fires wrought, drank in the newspapers’ reports and soaked up the talk of people who worried when he’d strike next.

But the game was different this time.

It was faster paced.

More dangerous.

More thrilling.

Given too much time, Gannon would catch him this time. The investigator was smart and had learned from his past mistakes. If he didn’t move quickly, Gannon would catch him and lock him up for the rest of his life.

And he had no intention of going to jail.

Nero climbed back into his truck and started the engine. Gannon would be receiving his pack of Rome matches as the fire started. But even if Gannon sprinted across town, he would not reach the school to warn everyone.

Whistling, Nero started the truck and headed back to work.

After Darcy left, Gannon tracked down a guy in town who owned three surveillance cameras and was willing to rent them to him. The problem was that there were nine schools in the city—seven elementary, one middle and a high school. He’d never be able to cover all nine with three cameras.

Spreading out a map of the city he marked each school with a red dot. Nero would most likely go for the school that would garner the most attention. Elementary, most likely. And definitely, in the center of town. He wanted people to watch his fire. And he wanted them afraid.

There were three schools in the immediate area. They were positioned for the greatest splash. And Nero liked splash.

Bastard.

For a moment Gannon closed his eyes. Damn, but he felt helpless. Rage rolled over him like a wave. The son of a bitch was alive. And he was going to kill again.

He checked his watch. Twelve thirty. There’d been thirty-six hours between the first two fires. In D.C. Nero had set his first three fires fourteen days apart. Then the pattern had dropped to every four days apart and then two. Now, however, it was anybody’s guess when Nero would strike again.

Gannon gathered up his papers and headed downstairs to the garage. He was going out the back door when a courier rode up on a bike. The kid was tall, lanky—most likely a college student earning an extra few bucks. He wore a red-and-white cycle racing jersey.

The courier stopped his bike, checked the address of the building. “You Michael Gannon?”

“That’s right.”

“Got a delivery for you, dude.”

Gannon accepted the white envelope. He didn’t need to open it to know it was from Nero. “There’s a twenty in it if you can tell me who sent this.” He dug the money out of his pocket.

“Don’t know. It was given to me by dispatch. Oh, but I do know I was told not to deliver it to you until one o’clock.” The kid checked his watch and grinned. “I got a class at one. I was going to drop it off afterwards but this girl I know asked me to help her study. She’s a fox and I didn’t want to disappoint her.”

Gannon handed the kid the twenty.

“Thanks, dude,” the kid said.

Gannon didn’t acknowledge the kid’s thanks or notice him drive off as he ripped open the envelope. Inside was the picture of an elementary school. White columns, tall bushes and a cement sidewalk but no sign and no identifying marks. It would take him time to figure out which school this was—time he didn’t have.

Darcy would know. She’d been raised in Preston Springs.

He ran across the street and tried the front door. It was locked. Cursing, he ran down the alley to the back of the restaurant. Opening the kitchen door, he dashed inside. An older woman stood by the stove. She glanced at him, her eyes wide with shock.

“Where’s Darcy?” he demanded.

“Who wants to know?” Though her hair had turned to gray, she had the same sharp gaze as Darcy.

“Damn it, where is she? This is an emergency!”

“She’s upstairs in the shower,” the woman said.

He started toward the back staircase.

“I’m going to call the police,” she shouted.

“Fine.” He took the stairs two at a time. “Darcy!”

Darcy rounded the corner at the top of the stairs. Her hair was wet and she wore pants and flip-flops. She clutched a blue shirt over her bra. “I heard you screaming. What’s wrong? I thought someone had died.”

He raced up the stairs and thrust the picture at her. “What school is this?”

Quickly she pulled on her shirt. “It’s Morgan Elementary.”

“Where is it?”

“Long Street.”

“Show me.”

He took her by the hand and half pulled her down the stairs. When they reached the kitchen, Mrs. Sampson was standing with a kitchen knife in one hand and the phone in the other. “You let her go!”

Gannon knew where Darcy got her loud voice.

“Its okay, Mom,” Darcy said as he towed her through the kitchen. “Mr. Gannon is my friend.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not being kidnapped?”

“No.”

Gannon opened the back door and paused. “Call the fire department and tell them to get to Morgan Elementary school.”

“I don’t take orders from you!”

“Mom, please,” Darcy pleaded. “Just do it.”

Her mother was mumbling something about rudeness and this was the last straw as she dialed the fire department.

Darcy struggled to keep up in her flip-flops as they ran into his garage. He pushed the bike outside and started the engine as she hopped on the back. Not bothering with helmets, they skidded out the garage door.

“Is this Nero’s next target?” she shouted against his ear.

He barely stopped at a stop sign before he rolled on through toward the school. “Yes.”

Five minutes later he stopped his bike by the front door of the school, parking on the front lawn. He checked his watch. Ten minutes to one o’clock. “He’s going to set the fire at one o’clock.”

“How do you know?” she asked following him up the brick steps.

“It’s in his note.”

Gannon glanced at the school office sign. “Dammit, I don’t have time to argue with people.”

Darcy brushed past him and toward the fire alarm on the wall. “Then, don’t.” She pulled the lever.

A loud buzzer started blaring in the concrete halls and red lights on the wall started to flash. Immediately, students started filing out of their classrooms and heading out the exits.

The principal hurried out the office. His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “What is going on here? If that Nick Bernard pulled the alarm again, I’ll suspend him for the rest of his life.”

“I pulled the fire alarm,” Darcy said.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

Gannon stepped between them. “No joke. I think you’re going to have a fire today.”

“You think.”

“Look, I’ll explain everything, but I need for you to clear this building.”

As the alarm wailed, the principal studied him a moment then hustled back into the office. Seconds later he announced, “Teachers, administrators and staff. Vacate the building immediately. This is not a drill.”

The principal followed Gannon and Darcy out of the building. “This better be on the level,” he said as he adjusted the frequency of a walkie-talkie he’d picked up in the office.

The parking lots and playgrounds quickly filled with children. In the distance, the fire truck’s sirens blared as the engines got closer and closer.

Gannon glanced at his watch. The long hand clicked to one o’clock. For several seconds nothing happened. He was aware of Darcy behind him, her body pressed close to his back.

Children talked and laughed—grateful to be out of class again so soon after lunch. The teachers and administrators nervously glanced at the principal. The fire engines grew closer.

And there was no fire. Seconds ticked by.

The principal walked up to Gannon. “You mind telling me what the devil is going on here?”

“There’s going to be a fire in the building.”

“You said already. How do you know this?”

“There have been two other fires in town.”

“Yeah, so. What does that have to do with my school?”

“I think yours is next.” He thrust the paper at the principal. “He said it would burn today at one o’clock.”

“Who’s he?”

“Nero.”

Before the principal could question him further, the engines screeched around the corner. Red lights flashing, the two engines parked in front of the school. The captain climbed down off the engine and strode over to the principal as his men pulled hose lines from the two red engines and unloaded axes and crowbars. “What’s going on here?”

“This man says there is going to be a fire in the school any minute.”

The captain met Gannon’s steady gaze. “You’re Gannon, right?”

Great. The chief had warned his men about him. “Yeah, that’s me.”

The captain shook his head. “Buddy, you are a real nut job, aren’t you?”

Gannon didn’t care if they called him the village idiot right now. As long as the children were out of the school. He handed the picture to the captain.

“How do I know you didn’t take this?” the captain said.

Darcy stepped forward. “He didn’t.”

He arched a bushy brow. “And you know this why?”