The Arsonist (11 page)

She brushed a wet curl off her face. “He came to me. He needed help finding the school.”

He muttered an oath. “So you only have his word.”

Challenge sparked in her eyes. “That’s right.”

“Oh, well, that makes it better.” He shook his head and pulled off his hat, running his fingers through his thick black hair.

The principal shook his head. “Can my kids go back inside the school?”

Gannon would block the damn entrance with his body if need be. “Don’t send them in, yet. Give it a few more minutes.”

The captain glanced at his watch. “It’s five after one. Your fire is late.”

Gannon stared at the school. “A few more minutes won’t make a bit of difference.”

The captain studied him. “I’ll send my men in to check the school out.”

“Don’t,” Gannon said. “If this arsonist follows his patterns, there will be a timer on a can of gasoline in the basement rigged to explode.”

The captain shook his head. “Principal, how many ways are there into the basement? I want to send my men in.”

Before the principal could answer, a loud explosion radiated from the basement, shaking the building and blowing out several of its windows. The children and teachers screamed and drew back. Within seconds the school was engulfed in flames.

The principal glanced at the hundreds of children and then at Gannon. His face turned deathly pale. If the children had been inside the building, they would be fighting for their lives. The principal turned and ran toward the teachers, ordering them to get the children away from the school.

Three shades paler, the captain called the police and reported the explosion as his men scrambled with the hoses. “Don’t leave my sight,” the captain said to Gannon. “You’ve got a hell of a lot to explain.”

“Whatever you want to know.” Gannon stared at the children. He released his first full breath since he’d opened the note.

“My God, look at those flames,” Darcy said. “And all those children.”

Before Gannon could explain, a Washington, D.C., Channel Five news crew pulled into the school parking lot. Immediately, the crews started filming.

Gannon tensed. The front door of the news van opened and out came Stephen Glass. His blond hair perfect, he wore charcoal suit pants, a blue dress shirt and red tie. Glass walked with the swagger of an athlete.

It had been a year since Gannon had seen the reporter, but he’d still dearly love to punch him out.

“Did you call him?” Gannon demanded.

“No,” Darcy said. She looked as shocked as he felt.

Glass shrugged on his suit coat and strode over to Gannon. He flashed the million-dollar smile that won him big points during the rating sweeps.

Darcy turned away from Glass, muttering something about rotten luck and murder. He had only a moment to wonder what her connection to Glass was before the reporter shoved a mike in his face.

“Michael Gannon. Care to comment on Nero’s latest fire?”

Struggling with murderous thoughts, Gannon stared at Stephen.

Stephen kept smiling, seemingly enjoying Gannon’s rage. “How did you get fire crews here so quickly? Did you have prior knowledge of the fire?”

Gannon said nothing, so Glass shifted his focus to Darcy. In one easy move, Glass moved passed Gannon and gave Darcy a kiss on the lips. “Miss me, gorgeous?”

Chapter 11

S
tephen tasted of cigarette smoke and stale coffee. She jerked away and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same, Darcy,” Stephen said still grinning.

Darcy was very aware of Gannon’s gaze on her. “I was here first, Stephen.”

“I was in Richmond covering a story when I got a call on my cell from Barbara.” Barbara’s office was next to Paul’s. “Barbara heard Paul on the phone talking to you about Nero.”

Darcy swallowed an oath. She could picture the scene. Paul hadn’t closed his door and Barbara had listened in on the conversation. It happened all the time in the newsroom. “So she figured she’d give you a call.”

He winked. “That’s right. And since I was less than an hour away covering another story, I said I’d stop by. We picked up this fire on the police scanner.”

Darcy ground her teeth. “This is my story, Stephen.”

He grinned. “All’s fair in love, war and reporting.”

Gannon stepped forward. His gaze bore into Stephen. “Friend, Darcy?”

“We used to be,” Darcy said.

The heat of the blaze bore down on them. The teachers had already backed the children up across the road so that they were far from the school. More fire trucks were also arriving.

Stephen grinned liked the Cheshire cat. He knew his arrival had stirred up something and he was enjoying it. “Now, come on babe, it was more than that.”

Darcy looked at Gannon. “You and I need to talk.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.” He turned on his heel and stalked off toward Chief Wheeler who’d just pulled up in his car.

This wasn’t the best time to discuss old boyfriends, but Darcy owed Gannon an explanation, and he was going to get one whether he wanted it or not. She started after him. She made it five steps before Stephen came up behind her and grabbed her by the arm.

The bastard was all smiles. “So what’s the scoop here, babe?”

“Get lost, Stephen.” She saw Gannon disappear into the crowd.

“Is that all you got to say to me?”

“Let go of me.” She’d never been angrier. “Or you’ll be singing high notes for the rest of your life.”

He released her and held up his hands in surrender. “I just figured since we were pals you’d help me out.”

“Pals?” She nearly choked on the word. “Most of my
pals
don’t screw me and then dump me for the first available blonde.”

He winced. “I didn’t dump you.”

She let her anger bubble to the surface. “Oh, that’s right, you said we were taking a break so you could figure out a few things.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

There’d been a time when she’d thought he was everything she’d been looking for. Sophisticated, funny, charming, he was unlike any man she’d known growing up in Preston Springs. If she’d bothered to look beyond the expensive suits and porcelain teeth, she’d have seen a vain, selfish man. “I’m not going to waste my breath explaining.”

He looked the picture of innocence. “She didn’t mean anything to me.”

Disgust rose in her throat. “You’re wasting my time.” She started in Gannon’s direction.

He did his best hurt puppy dog look as he hurried beside her. “God, Darcy. I loved you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” That look would have worked on her two years ago. It didn’t now.

His eyes hardened when she kept walking. “When did you turn into such a bitch?”

“Ah, there is the real Stephen.”

“Okay, so I might have screwed up the thing we had.”

She clenched her fingers. “Cut the crap, Stephen. You don’t want me, you want an angle on this story.”

“Baby, I love you.”

She laughed so hard tears pooled in her eyes.

Pursing his lips, he seemed to get that his tactics weren’t working. “Is Nero alive or not?” He had to hurry to keep pace with her as she moved around the edge of the crowd. There was no sign of Gannon.

“How should I know?”

“Barbara heard everything Paul said.”

“Yeah, well she got it all wrong. I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“You are a bad liar, Darcy.”

Gannon was nowhere in sight. Disappointment chewed at her. She’d blown things with him and the thought left her deeply sad. “Sue me.”

His smile lost its boyish charm and turned menacing. “It doesn’t really matter if he’s alive or not. I really don’t care. But just the idea that he might be will get me a hell of a lot of airtime.”

Darcy looked at Stephen. In him she saw herself. When she’d arrived in Preston Springs, Nero had been no more than a story. She wasn’t as concerned about lives as headlines. No wonder Gannon had been so angry when he found out she was a reporter.

As the sirens blared, school buses arrived to take the children away. She thought about all the children who could have died today.

Nero was more than a headline.

He was a psychopath who needed to be stopped.

“Hell, I bet I could even spin the story to suggest that our Mr. Gannon is Nero. I mean who knew the fires better than him? Maybe he’s orchestrated all this so that he can get himself back in the limelight.”

Darcy stopped in her tracks. God, she’d had the same theories about Gannon. “Do you know how many children could have died today if he hadn’t been here?”

“The more casualties the better the ratings.”

Stephen made her physically sick. “You are a real bastard, Stephen.”

He shrugged casually. “We’ve all got our crosses to bear.”

Slowly she unclenched her fingers. “Leave Gannon out of this.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes before they narrowed. “You got a thing going with the arson investigator?” He touched her shirt, which she realized was inside out. She’d dressed so quickly when Gannon had arrived she’d never bothered to check. “You guys having a little fun this morning?”

She smacked his hand away. “Drop dead.”

Darcy thankfully didn’t have to walk the two miles back to the Varsity in flip-flops. Gannon had asked one of the policemen to give her a ride, which she’d gratefully accepted.

When she arrived at the tavern, George was in the kitchen standing over a pot of stew. “Your mother and brother aren’t here.”

A headache pounded in the back of her skull. “Where are they?”

“Trevor is out, like always. And your mother is upstairs with a sick headache. She says you can run the register tonight.” Her mother always got sick headaches when things had been especially bad with her father.

An oppressive weight bore down on her chest. She was drowning in her family’s problems. “Me? I haven’t run the register in ten years.”

He shrugged his thick shoulders as he stuffed sage and garlic in a chicken. “I am just the cook.”

“Yeah, and I’m just the dumb sap who didn’t have the sense to stay away from home.”

He grimaced. “So are you going to run the register or not?”

Before she could answer, the sound of a motorcycle engine roared down the alleyway. “George, how about you take the rest of the day off?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve already made the salads and the stews.”

She had more important things to handle than the cash register. “Will they keep until tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Then wrap it all up and take the rest of the day off.”

He lifted a bushy brow. “I can’t afford to go without pay.”

“Consider tonight a paid vacation.” Last night they’d taken in enough money to keep the place afloat another week. She’d locked the money in the trunk of her car with the intent of opening another tavern account. However, when she’d arrived, she began to have doubts. Last night, she’d half thought she could fix her mixed-up family and maybe save the tavern. But as she looked around the kitchen and saw how much needed to be done, she wasn’t so sure all this was salvageable.

But she could make things right with Gannon.

And that’s exactly what she intended to do right now.

Gannon’s nerves danced with anger and frustration as he stared at the open case file on his desk. He needed to reread his old notes and look for similarities. But each time his mind got a hold of a sentence, he thought of Darcy.

Damn.

Darcy and Stephen.

It wouldn’t surprise him if the two had been working together all along. It would be Glass’s style to send in his girlfriend to do his dirty work. Gannon chaulked up this mistake to a libido that had gone far too long without servicing.

There was a knock at the door. He cursed it and then ignored it.

“I know you are in there,” Darcy shouted. “I saw you go in.”

He flipped a page in the file and tried to concentrate on another. “Get lost.”

“Sorry, no can do. I’m going to stay out here until you answer.” He imagined her eyes blazing.

He could be stubborn, too. “You’re going to get very tired then.”

“No chance. I closed the restaurant for the day so the way I figure it I got all the time in the world to sit on your doorstep and harp.”

He would block her out. Concentrate. He needed to concentrate.

“I’m still here,” she said. “Still, waiting.”

Gannon smacked his hands on the table, got up and crossed the room. He yanked open the door. She stood there, leaning against the doorjamb. She was smiling, without the least bit of repentance in her eyes.

Her arms were crossed accentuating full breasts under the T-shirt. Her shirt was still inside out. “Your shirt is still inside out.”

She glanced down at the raw seam. “So it is.”

“What do you want?”

“You and I need to talk.”

“Did your boyfriend send you here to pump me for more information?”

“Stephen
was
my boyfriend. Past tense. Believe me, he is the last person I wanted to see ride into town today—or any other day. The editor I called left his door open. Another reporter overheard the conversation and tipped Stephen off.”

“Some friend.”

“The D.C. reporting waters are full of sharks.” Her eyes clouded with sadness and for a moment he almost invited her in. Almost.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Stephen. I knew you didn’t like him.”

A stray curl fell in the center of her forehead and he had the urge to brush it away.

“Despise might be a better word.”

“Believe me, I know he can be a real jerk.”

If she was lying, she was an excellent actress. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“Can I come in?”

She leaned forward. Her nipples pressed against her shirt and every sane thought in his head vanished. “Sure.” His voice sounded ragged.

He summoned enough brain cells to step aside so she could enter his apartment. She turned and faced him and the light from the window behind her caught the highlights in her hair. He thought about the bed in his room, sheets rumpled. He wanted to see her on those sheets now, naked. He stepped toward her. If he had the sense God gave a tree stump he’d cut her loose now. She was trouble. He didn’t need to be a part of her career breakthrough or her family problems.

“I still want to help you catch Nero,” she said. “In fact, after that school fire, I want to catch him more than ever.”

“Nero is still one good story.” Bitterness dripped from each word.

“I don’t care about the story anymore. This is bigger than a byline.” Her voice sounded rusty, full of emotion.

“I could almost believe you.”

Her lips were so full. They’d tasted so good. He shoved out a breath, stepped aside and let her into his apartment. He wanted her. There was no denying that. But sex with Darcy wouldn’t be about love or commitment. It would be about need.

And maybe if he said that a few hundred times more he’d believe it.

She walked past him. Her gaze settled on the case files. “Did you find anything to help?”

“No. I know every detail by heart.”

She faced him. “When do you think Nero will set another fire?”

“He’s going to lay low for at least the rest of today, maybe even tomorrow. But he’s moving much faster than I ever realized he would.”

“How do you know?”

God, but he was so tired of Nero running his life. He didn’t want to think about death, arson or destruction. He wanted to feel alive, if only for a couple of hours. “He’ll be frustrated that today didn’t go like he wanted. He’ll need to regroup.”

Worry lines deepened his brow. “Stephen thinks you could be Nero.”

He moved closer. They were only six inches apart and he could feel the heat from her body and smell the smoke clinging to her hair. “Do you?”

She didn’t speak for a moment. “At first I wasn’t sure. The fires followed you here.”

He refused to defend or justify. “And now?”

A heavy silence hung between them for a moment. “You’re not Nero.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She met his direct gaze. “Yes.”

Gannon wanted to be inside Darcy. He wanted to feel her naked breasts pressed against his chest. “I don’t want to talk about the fires right now.”

Something in his voice had her eyes darkening. Her cheeks flushed. “I thought we decided that wasn’t very professional.”

He laid his hand on her shoulder. Her skin was like spun silk. “You’re right, it’s not.”

She moistened her lips. “I should leave.” But she stood rooted in her spot.

“You could.” If she stayed, he wanted her to want this as much as he did. “Or you could stay.” He captured the hem of her shirt. “And turn that shirt around.”

Her fingers brushed his as she took hold of the hem. For a moment, she hesitated, as if warring inside herself. Then she grabbed hold of the fabric and pulled the shirt over her head. Slowly, she let the shirt fall to the floor.

His breath caught in his throat as he stared at her. Creamy, full breasts crowned a lacy bra. He leaned forward and kissed her, praying he had the strength to make this moment last.

As their lips touched, a soft mew formed in her throat. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His erection pressed against the fabric of her pants as his hand came up to cup her breast.

Her hands slid down his back and over his buttocks. She squeezed pressing him against her.

He broke the kiss but instead of speaking, he took her by the hand and pulled her toward his bed.