The Arsonist (15 page)

He rolled his head from side to side. “Go away, Darcy. Let me sleep a few more minutes.”

She smacked him hard across the face. “Get up!”

Sharp pain opened his eyes. “Leave me alone!”

Darcy tugged him up. “The building is on fire. We are going to die if we don’t get out of here right now.”

Underneath her feet, she felt the rumble of the fire. It was growing, eating through the building inch by inch.

Where was Gannon?

The back door to the church opened.

Sunlight streamed through the door, shadowing the face of the tall figure standing at the back of the church. “Gannon!”

“Sorry, babe,” Stephen said stepping forward. “But will I do?” He laughed.

At this point Satan would have been welcome. “I need help with Trevor.”

Stephen started down the aisle. “Trevor is up there?” His tone was lean and hungry. Darcy knew he tasted headlines.

“Yes, and he’s not moving.”

“I knew it!” he shouted. “I knew if I followed you, you’d lead me to the story.”

For once she was grateful for Stephen’s blind ambition. “I need help getting him out of the church. The basement is on fire.”

Stephen stopped midway up the aisle. He glanced down at his feet as if he expected the floor to crumble beneath him. “Damn. Did Trevor set the fire?”

Frustration sliced through her composure. Smoke was starting to seep faster through the floorboards. “Can we get out of here and discuss this outside? The building is on fire.”

He glanced back toward the door and then back at her. Clearly, self-preservation warred with getting the story. “I get an exclusive if I get him out of here.”

“Fine.”

He started to jog toward the altar. “The story is all mine, Darcy. You don’t get credit. My crews are waiting outside to tape the interview.”

The fire roared louder. “Fine! Now get over here.”

Stephen reached down, grabbed Trevor by the collar and hauled him to his feet. “He smells like booze.”

Darcy wrapped her arm around Trevor’s midsection. “I think he’s been drugged.”

Stephen put his arm around Trevor. “Damn, he weighs a ton.”

The trio started down the center aisle. They were halfway down when the door to the church slammed closed.

Stephen cursed. Without a word spoken, Darcy and Stephen hurried their pace toward the door.

Stephen tried the brass doorknob. “It’s locked.”

Sweat dampened the back of Darcy’s shirt. “What?”

He released his hold on Trevor and tried the door again. Jiggling it harder, he shoved his shoulder into the door. It didn’t budge. “It’s locked!”

Darcy couldn’t support Trevor alone and was forced to lower him to the carpeted floor. She raised a trembling hand to her forehead.

The door was locked. The fire roared beneath them. She’d been summoned here unexpectedly. It all added up now. “Oh, God. We’ve been set up.”

Stephen smacked his fist against the thick oak door. “What do you mean—set up?”

“I got a note from Gannon. He told me to meet him here.”

“I told you that guy was trouble. He is Nero,” Stephen shouted.

“Gannon isn’t Nero.” The growing smoke tightened her lungs, making breathing difficult now.

The fire bellowed in the basement. Floorboards creaked. Like a beast fully awake now, the fire was bent on one thing only—destruction.

Stephen pounded on the door. “Like hell he’s not! The guy set us up!”

Heat rose up under their feet. They only had minutes before the floorboards gave way. “Gannon wouldn’t do this to me. He wouldn’t.”

“Wise up, Darcy,” he said coughing from the smoke. “The guy is insane. No doubt he has one of those dual personalities. One sets fires, the other puts them out.”

Darcy’s mind reeled with confusion and panic as Stephen ran to one of the tall windows along the wall. When he realized the window didn’t open, he searched around frantically until he saw a baptismal font in the back of the church. He wrenched the marble bowl out of the stand, ran back to the window and shattered the glass with it. Without a backwards glance, Stephen jumped out the window.

Darcy ran to the window. The fresh air smelled so sweet. “Stephen, don’t leave us.”

Blood from the broken glass coated his hands as he rose from the thick grass to his feet. “I’ll try the door from the outside.”

Tense seconds passed. The fire growled. She heard Stephen on the other side of the door. He pounded briefly and then stopped.

When he reappeared at the window, panic tightened his face. “The door has been padlocked.”

“What!”

“There’s no way to open it.”

“I can’t get Trevor out alone.”

He shook his head. “Save yourself. Jump.”

“I can’t leave him. You’ll have to come in and help me get him out.”

Stephen took a step back. “I’m not coming back in there.”

“What?”

“Save yourself, Darcy.”

Darcy glanced toward her brother and then back at Stephen. “I’m not leaving him.”

From the shadows near the pulpit, she heard laughter. Darcy looked up and by the back exit saw a figure. “Gannon!”

More laughter echoed. “No.” He stepped forward enough so that Darcy could see him clearly.

Nathan.

And she knew.

“Nero!” she shouted.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Why are you doing this?” The heat was building up. The smoke grew thicker.

He shrugged. “It’s all part of the game. With you dead, Gannon will never forgive me. He will never want to end the cat and mouse game between us.”

Just yards from Nathan, a fireball exploded through a vent and spread to the ceiling. She heard him scream, but couldn’t see beyond the wall of fire.

Heat made her dizzy and she could barely breathe now. She dropped to her knees by the back door and huddled next to Trevor. She didn’t want to die.

“Darcy!”

In the distance, she imagined she heard Gannon and then the distant sound of sirens. She wondered if her mind was playing tricks on her.

She heard the crunch of metal and the sound of chain links snapping open.

The door suddenly opened. Sunlight and fresh air streamed into the room.

Darcy opened her eyes and saw Gannon’s grim face staring down at her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her out of the fire. Leaving her on the cool grass, he ran back inside and dragged Trevor out.

Seconds later the church floor collapsed.

Chapter 15

G
annon moved Darcy a safe distance from the fire before he took her in his arms. He held her close to him. “Are you all right?”

She coughed, trying to suck in as much fresh air as her lungs would hold. “Yes. How’s Trevor?”

Gannon glanced up. The EMTs had loaded Trevor onto a stretcher and had put an oxygen mask on his face. “He looks fine. They’re taking good care of him.”

“Good.”

He stroked the sweat-dampened hair off her face as he glanced up at the church, now engulfed in flames. The tall spire topped with a cross groaned as its support structure started to give way.

Another couple of minutes and he’d have lost her today. “You shouldn’t have come here alone.”

She coughed and sat up. “I thought you needed me.”

Anger ripped through him. “It wasn’t me.”

“It was Nathan,” she said. “He is Nero.”

“I know. I figured it out. That’s why I came here.”

Firefighters shot hoses of water onto the building. It couldn’t be saved but they were worried about the fire spreading to the nearby woods. “I saw him at the front of the church. A fireball exploded and he was gone.”

She shook her head. “This was all just a game to him.”

He stroked her hair. “I know.”

Stephen’s angry voice rose above the noise of truck engines, sprays of water and men barking orders. “What do you mean—you’re taking my tape?”

Gannon looked up and saw Chief Wheeler striding toward them. Stephen was right on his heels. “Get lost, Glass.”

“Damn it, I want my tape.” Glass looked at Gannon. “This nitwit thinks he can take my tape.”

“It’s evidence,” the chief said.

“It’s my tape and my story.”

The chief lifted a brow. “My guess is that he wants the tape because it shows what we all saw—him running away from the fire while Darcy was still inside the church.”

Gannon rose up and faced Stephen. “This is Darcy’s story and if you try to steal it from her, I can guarantee that tape will end up on the six o’clock news.”

Chief Wheeler grinned. “And seeing how popular you are, I bet it gets picked up all over the country.”

Darcy stood. “You left us to die.”

Stephen’s eyes had lost their arrogance. “I was going for help.”

Darcy shook her head. “You were running away from the building.”

Gannon stepped between them before Stephen could answer. “Leave now or I swear I’ll take you apart piece by piece.”

Stephen looked as if he’d argue, then backed down. “Fine. Nobody gives a damn about a year-old case.” He stalked off.

Chief Wheeler tucked the tape in his jacket. “Looks like you are gonna get yourself some big attention from this story. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if I don’t see you getting interviewed on
Good Morning America.
”

Darcy glanced up at Gannon. He couldn’t read her expression, but he didn’t have to. He realized the story that had brought her to him would take her away.

Chief Wheeler noticed the heavy silence between them. He cleared his throat. “Hey, I got work to do. You two be sure to stay away from the fire.”

Gannon and Darcy nodded. When the chief had walked away, Gannon spoke first. Better to make this as easy as possible. “Look, I know this story is your big break. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

She nodded. “A week ago, I’d have agreed with you.”

He shoved out a breath. “And now?”

“It’s still a story I want to write. And I will write it. But as for fame and fortune, I’m not convinced that suits me so much.”

“What are you saying?”

She tucked a curl behind her ear. “I can write this story from anywhere. And well, Trevor and Mom need me. I was thinking I’d stay in Preston Springs for a while.”

He grinned and laid his hands on her shoulders. “For a while?”

She hesitated. “Don’t panic on me or anything. I don’t want you to feel like I’m hemming you in.”

“Darcy, we could stand here dancing around all afternoon, but I’m flat out of patience with games.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I want you in my life.”

She smiled. “I want to be in it.”

Gannon kissed her on the lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and relaxed into him as if she’d just arrived home from a long journey.

Epilogue

T
he Atlanta airport was packed. It was the Christmas season and everyone was looking to get somewhere.

In the small bookstore across from gate 32 on concourse A, Adrianna Ruiez juggled an armload of books that needed reshelving in the non-fiction section. Travelers often leafed through books and magazines to kill time before a flight and then abandoned them anywhere that suited.

Slobs, she thought ungraciously. If folks were just a little more considerate, she could sneak a few precious minutes studying for her chemistry final.

Adrianna was struggling with a couple of hard-cover biographies when she heard a man clear his throat.

“Excuse me,” the man said softly.

His politeness helped her manage a smile as she turned. “Yes, sir, what can I do to help you?” Her demeanor softened more when she looked at him. The man stood tall, wore neatly-pressed khakis, a white button-down shirt and thin wire-rimmed glasses that accentuated lovely green eyes. He carried a cane and wore a black leather glove on his right hand.

“I’m looking for a new book. It’s non-fiction and called
Into the Fire.
”

Adrianna smiled. “It’s over here in the bestseller section. Follow me.” Wishing she’d brushed her hair on her last break, she set her unshelved books down and guided him across the store. She noted he leaned heavily on the cane and walked with a decided limp.

She pulled the book from the shelf and handed him a copy. “Here you go.”

He grinned as he studied the spine of the book and then opened the back flap and read the author’s blurb. “Have you heard anything about the book?”

She wondered where he was traveling—somewhere important or exotic, no doubt. “I’ve not read it yet, but it’s gotten great reviews.”

He nodded. “With the cost of hardcovers these days, I don’t buy books unless I think I’m really going to enjoy them. I’ve never heard of the author. Darcy Gannon?”

“Oh, she made a big splash on the news about a year ago. She solved an arson case. She ended up marrying one of the arson investigators just a couple of months ago.”

He lifted a brow. “That so? How do you know so much about her?”

“There was a write-up on her in the Atlanta paper just a few days ago when the book came out.”

“Too bad I missed it.” He seemed to think for a moment. “That was the Nero case wasn’t it?”

“Sure was.”

A smile teased the edge of his lips. “Now I remember. This Darcy woman and her husband were the ones that didn’t believe Nero was dead.”

“Right. He faked his death in Washington, D.C., and would have gotten away with it all if he hadn’t started his second round of fires.”

He stared at her with an intensity that made her feel as if she were the only person in the world. “Some people never learn.”

Adrianna sensed he knew more about the book than he was letting on. She wondered if asking for information on the book had been an excuse to meet her. “Can I ring it up for you?”

He studied the spine an extra beat. “Sure. And there’s a book over there on puzzles. I think I’ll get that, too.”

“You like games?”

“Love ’em.”

She caught a glimpse of the skin at his wrist. It was red and puckered as if it had been badly burned.

Adrianna watched the man limp toward the puzzle books. The guy looked fit. The limp must have been the result of an accident.

He approached the register, set his books on the counter and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. He laid a hundred-dollar bill down.

She rang up his purchase. “So, where you headed?”

“West,” he said. “I work construction and I’ve got a few project managers who aren’t doing what they’re supposed to. I’m gonna show up unannounced and light a fire under them.”

She sensed a private joke she wasn’t privy to. She bagged up his purchase in a pink sack with Book Nook written on the side. “Hope you enjoy the book.”

“I suspect I will enjoy every bit of this one.” He took the change she offered and tucked it neatly into his pocket.

Not ready to see him go yet, Adrianna followed him toward the exit. She picked up a copy of
Into the Fire
from the bestseller table. She opened the book and flipped to the section in the middle where the pictures were. She’d not expected to see anything of interest but her gaze settled immediately on the head shot taken of Nero, aka Nathan Collier when he’d been in college.

Immediately, she was struck by the likeness between Nero and the stranger. “Hey, you look just like this guy Nero.”

The stranger stopped and looked back at her. He grinned. “Imagine that.”

The likeness really was eerie. But what were the chances that Nero would be in the Atlanta airport where anyone could spot him? “Be careful, people might start calling you Nero.”

The man seemed pleased by the idea. “Stranger things have happened.”

Before she could say anything else, he limped into the crowd of people passing by her store and disappeared.