The Protector (35 page)

The reference to Jack made her smile; the other question really disturbed her. “There’s been some fires.”

“Arson fires?”

She nodded. She got up and from her desk sorted around to find the file where she had collected the newspaper accounts. She handed him the file but didn’t immediately release it. She swallowed hard, feeling incredibly guilty. “I thought I saw you at the scene of the Wallis fire.”

He stilled. “Did you? Why?”

Water was dripping. Jack listened hard to the quiet in his house, trying to decide if the sound was coming from inside or outside. It sounded like it was coming from the bathroom. He was going to have to replace the seal on the sink.

Jack shifted around and grabbed one of the extra pillows on the bed beside him and tossed it at the open door to push it closed and block out the sound. In the middle of the night small, unnoticed sounds from the day grew loud and annoying. Water dripping was one of the worst.

He turned the page of the Bible, wondering why they made the pages so incredibly thin. The words might be large type, but it was still a bit like reading a newspaper with its two-column format.

Come on, Cassie, call.
He was struggling to stay awake.

Ash was back.

The shock of that was still settling in. Jack had a feeling his life had just gotten more complicated.

Ash felt like part of this. In the same way Cole was part of it, as Jack himself was. Ash was one of those people connected to the department that had this arsonist’s attention. Someone, something had triggered the arsonist to start to act. And while it might be coincidence, the calendar said Ash had disappeared; then the fires had begun. Now Ash had reappeared—it was going to create a reaction. That was what Jack uneasily sensed in his gut. Why had the fires begun after Ash disappeared? What had that triggered? And what would happen now that he was back?

Jack was glad Cole was involved to help sort out those questions. They were agonizing ones, and not something that could be talked about with Cassie. She would try to protect her partner. Jack wanted to protect her. And he was afraid their two goals might collide.

He fingered the page of the book, considered closing it, but accepted he couldn’t duck this issue as easily as he could the other. Jennifer wanted him to consider this, and Cassie… Religion certainly mattered to her.

He had to find a middle ground on this that showed he respected their position without offending them. He adjusted the bedside light and turned his attention back to what he had been reading for the last two hours. He wasn’t calling it a night until he heard from Cassie. And if he didn’t hear from her in the next half hour, he was going to call her.

Who was Jesus Christ? This should not be so hard to figure out. Jack ran his hand through his hair, frustrated with how difficult it was to make sense of the book of Luke.

Before reading the book Jack would have said Jesus was a man who was a good teacher who had ended up being martyred, and His followers were so impassioned about what He had taught they insisted He rose from the dead so they could claim they followed someone living rather than dead. It was a rather brutal opinion but common sense said claims of a resurrection had to be a myth.

Luke presented something so much more complex. Jack got hit in the first pages of the book with talk of the angel Gabriel, of how the virgin birth came about. Long sections of Luke dealt with Jesus healing the sick. There were references to Jesus knowing men’s thoughts. His teaching was blunt and searing to the heart of the matter. He was called a King, the Son of God. He claimed to be able to forgive sins. It was already an incredible statement of the man before Jack ever reached the chapter that described the Resurrection.

To swallow any part of this, he just about had to swallow the whole. But to reject it because the Resurrection was implausible would do a serious disservice to the whole thing presented. There was so much here. It was a massive package.

Jack was annoyed Jennifer and Rachel had simplified things in the past when they talked about it. It was easier to see a big, deep picture and possibly accept the Resurrection as part of it than to support it as a single stand-alone event. Was this why Jennifer and the other O’Malleys believed? Because of the whole?

The phone rang. Jack glanced at the clock and reached for the phone. “Cassie, I was getting worried about you. It’s almost 1
A.M.
” He shifted the phone to his other side and bunched the comforter as a pillow, closing the Bible he had been reading. “How did it go?”

She didn’t say anything. “Cassie?”

“I wish you were here so I could get a hug.”

“Honey, go get some Kleenex.”

She went away and eventually came back. “Sorry. It was just so good to see him. I’m happy. I cry when I’m happy.”

Jack gamely accepted that because he had no choice. “Okay. That’s good to know.”

She laughed around the tears. “Ash is going to come by the station this week and nag Cole into letting him come back to work.”

“I’ll enjoy having a chance to talk with him. Cole was relieved when I called to let him know Ash had returned; he’ll be eager to talk with him too.” Jack was relieved to hear her quieting down. He wanted desperately to change the subject. “I was reading the book of Luke tonight,” he offered, hoping to divert her.

“Really?”

There was hope in that one word and he was glad he raised it. “Cassie, is Jesus alive?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know for sure?”

She hesitated.

“Tell me.”

“In the dark days after the fire, Jack, Jesus understood all of it. The nightmares of being trapped in the fire, the pain, the despair. I could talk to Him and read His Word, and it was talking to someone who was there. He was always there. He answered me in so many profound ways, through events, through people, through His Word. He heard me.”

Jack closed his eyes as she spoke. The man she called Jesus had been there to comfort when no one else could. No wonder Jennifer believed if that was what she had also found in the midst of the cancer.

“Do you want to come to church with me next Sunday?” Cassie offered. “Pastor Luke explains things so much better than I do.”

“Maybe.” He heard a beep on the line. His frustration was immediate. “Hold on, Cassie, I’ve got a call coming in.” He accepted the call. “This is Jack.”

“It’s Ash. What’s Cole’s number? I’ve got a problem at my place.”

“Something happen?”

“Does popcorn mean anything to you?”

“I’m on my way.”

“No. I’ve got cobwebs growing on the message. Cole can handle it. If you come, Cassie will hear and have to come. It’s not the way I want her ending her Christmas.”

“Then I’ll call Cole for you.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

Ash hung up. Jack warned Cassie he would be a minute coming back; then he called Cole, wondering what the message was that Ash had received.

“This is quite a welcome home, Ash.” Cole shone his light on the living room wall revealing a huge mural of a fire. No wonder the arsonist liked big, sweeping letters. He liked to paint murals. It had been here a while for there were cobwebs in the corners of the room.

This had taken several hours if not days to create. Cole walked back into the hallway near the front door where the painting began. He crouched down to study it. There was amateur skill in it and a good understanding for how fire began. The painting began low, just above the floor, as black smoldering impressions. As he walked down the hall it slowly rose on the wall. There was a flash as flames briefly flared for the first time and then it fell back to a steady burn and slowly grew.

Cole traced his light up as the fire moved from the floor to the ceiling. The ceiling fire then dropped burning embers to the floor. There was an incredible burst of fire as the room was shown to reach the flash point. “Any spray paint cans?”

“Not that I’ve found. Who paints murals?”

“A young man who likes elegant graffiti.” Cole replied. It had to be a young man who knew all about fire. This was too accurate for how a fire moved and breathed to be chance. Cole stood back, looking overall at the problem. Ash’s home had not been trashed, and that was interesting. “How did he get in?”

“Someone scratched the back door lock.”

“That was Cassie breaking in. She lost her key.”

“Then no, I don’t have any idea.”

Cole frowned. After he painted the arsonist had taken the time to move the furniture back to their original spots, had taken the time to rehang pictures. And Cole found it interesting that he didn’t see any picture out of order. Why the arsonist had hit him, it made sense. He was part of the district leadership. But Ash—this had been painted when there was no idea when or if Ash might return.

“Did you stay in touch with anyone here? Did you call someone? E-mail anybody?”

“I was planning to leave it all behind and permanently end any idea of being involved with a fire department. I didn’t call or write anyone. I came back simply to see Cassie for Christmas.”

“I’m tempted to give you a headache for giving Cassie cause to worry about you.”

“Let’s not and say you did. I didn’t hurt her intentionally.”

Cole looked at his friend, having understood more than Ash probably realized. “There is a reason they call those nightmares you were having flashbacks.”

“They stopped about four weeks ago.”

“Admit it, you’ve been bored without the firefighter job.”

“If you think I was safety picky before, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

Cole nodded and made an offer he’d been hoping he would one day have the opportunity to make. “Frank and I have the budget in shape to increase the training funds. If the board gives us the final approval at their next meeting, we’re going to need someone to run it.”

“Cole—”

“I want you back on rotation, and I want you teaching at the academy. It’s time to get back in the game and help me out.”

“I suppose I owe you one.”

It was a grudging admission, but Cole would take it. “In a month you’ll tell me you love it.”

“Rookies? Please. I’ve done too much training through the years. I know the reality. It’s like corralling a bunch of show-offs.” Ash stopped by the entryway to his office. “At least he left this room alone.”

“He called you chicken in the e-mail message he sent you.”

“I wish he’d had the courage to call me that to my face.” Ash walked around the room to see if anything else had been touched. “Cassie said you think this is a firefighter.”

Cole leaned against the doorjamb, watching Ash prowl around the room. “He’s setting fires within the walls using small flowerpots.”

Ash stopped, then turned on his heel. “My signature?”

Cole nodded. He knew it would get a rise and he watched, interested in knowing exactly what that reaction would be.

Ash looked grim. “One of my students.”

Cole understood the emotion clouding Ash’s voice. The idea this was a firefighter bit hard, and the realization it was someone they might have worked with was hard to swallow. “I don’t know if borrowing the signature is another way to turn the knife, like he’s doing using the popcorn and setting fires at the edge of the district, or because he knows it’s the best way to start fires in the wall.”

“More than one rookie has washed out because they failed the training.”

Cole nodded.

“Getting my address would be easy to do.”

Cole let Ash think, hoping he would be able to put a name to the details.

“What’s the base he’s using?”

“Tar,” Cole replied.

From the front of the house came the sound of car doors slamming. Cole walked back to the foyer and turned on the outside light. His friend Joe, the police investigator who had worked the vandalism and garbage fire at his place, was coming up the drive.

Cole held open the door for the man. “Sorry for interrupting your Christmas.”

Joe stopped long enough to stamp snow off his feet before coming into the house. “Don’t worry about it.”

Cole gestured to the living room. The investigator stopped at the door to the room and whistled.