Wrapped in Flame (7 page)

“You had renter’s insurance?” he asked.

Erica cleared her throat and dropped her arms. “Yes. Absolutely.” There was Keith’s life insurance as well, unless he’d removed her as beneficiary. As far as she knew, the money still went to her. He’d removed his sister once they were married. His “great show of love” gesture and the crux of one argument after another when Erica hadn’t responded in a similar fashion.

His sister. Erica had no way to contact her or his parents. They’d never met, never spoken. She had no information about them. More proof of the blinders on her eyes when she’d married Keith. Calls to make, a funeral to plan, a life to rebuild… Suddenly her knees refused to hold her any longer. She sank to the curb and buried her face in her hands. Everything was gone. Furniture, kitchenware, linens…irreplaceable photographs from childhood on, books.
Not everything
, she reminded herself. Important papers were in the safe-deposit box. She had her clothing, computer, jewelry—

“Mrs. Randall?”

Erica scrubbed the tears away and looked up at the man hovering over her. He flashed a badge and squatted down to her level.

“I’m Detective Posner with the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department. I’m sorry for your loss. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

The words seemed to rush out of the guy. A man on a mission. Out for blood came to mind. He was dressed in a rumpled dark suit and sported a five o’clock shadow. Sweat glistened on his forehead.

“I’ve already spoken to Deputy Kowalski.” And she didn’t feel like dealing with the bureaucratic bullshit of answering the same questions again.

Posner managed a smile. A piece of his last meal was stuck in his teeth. Erica didn’t enlighten him.

“Yes, I have that information,” he said. “I needed a bit more, considering the nature of the fire.”

Arson, of course. “Go on.”

“Any idea who could have done such a thing?”

At least she could answer with all honesty. “I don’t.” Did she have to state the obvious? That the person who did this had risked the lives of their neighbors? That she’d lost everything as a result? The only person selfish enough to do so was Keith. She somehow doubted he would have killed himself in the process. Even he wasn’t that stupid. Unless he’d messed up and gotten caught in his own trap.

“Thank you. Do you have a way I can contact you if I have any more questions?”

She was tempted to tell him to go through her attorney. Doing so might make her an even bigger suspect. Cops would claim she had a damn fine reason to kill Keith. Hidden money, a divorce action in a community property state. With Keith dead, she wouldn’t have to share a dime. No, better to lie low. She gave Posner her cell phone number. Then he was off to where Craig Stanton stood talking with Mike and Tim. Scowls greeted him, and the exchange between Posner and the three went downhill from there.

“Hey.” CJ sat beside her. “Why don’t I take you back to Mike’s house?”

It made sense. Mike had a lot of work to do. Besides, there wasn’t a whole lot she could do here anyway. “What’s going on?” She jerked her chin toward the men.

He braced his wrists on his knees. “On the surface, it looks like the fire was set to cover a murder. Mike found a big hole in the skull. Won’t know for sure until after the coroner’s report.”

It made them all suspects. Maybe a lawyer wasn’t a bad idea after all.

“Posner wants to interview all fire-department
persons of interest
at the station. He wants us to vacate the scene while he calls in an arson investigator from San Bernardino County. He says the fact that Mike was having an affair—”

“We were
not
—”

“I know.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “We all know that.”

Ah, but the rumors would paint an ugly picture. She wanted to say she didn’t care what other people thought, but in this situation, what other people thought and what she and Mike could prove were two different things. At the very least, one or both of them might lose their jobs. At the worst… Damn, could they wind up in jail when they hadn’t done anything? The only alibi they had was each other.

How much would they lose before this nightmare ended?

“Yeah, I’d like to leave.” The first of many lies she’d have to tell to protect Mike. Leaving was the last thing she wanted and the first thing she had to do. He wouldn’t understand she’d done it for him, and if he did, he wouldn’t care. A clean break was best, even if it meant there’d be nothing of them once the dust settled.

“I’ll let Mike know.”

Erica started for CJ’s truck. The clean break started now. Not just from Mike but from all of them, because they were one big family. A family she had no business being a part of. Her heart hurt at the thought of losing them all. Maybe a new start somewhere else would be best.

You would cause people you care about that much pain?

She pressed her forehead against the passenger window glass, damning her conscience. The sound of boot steps pulled her upright. Craig was headed her way.

“I need a favor,” he said, voice low.

“Anything.” Erica meant it too. And she thought she could walk away.

“I can’t reach Betty,” he said. “This time of night, she should be home. She’s not answering the landline or her cell. She’s been having a very hard time lately, and I’m worried. I don’t want her to know I’m checking up on her. With what’s happened tonight, you going to her wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary. She was also pretty mad earlier when I told her about Keith’s bullshit. And since I can’t reach her…”

He suspected her of this? Erica knew that Betty had been upset since her mother died. Not only grief stricken but also guilty over the inheritance that had been left to her. With Craig working and their kids off to college, she’d had a lot of time to dwell on her loss, despite her job and volunteer work. She was as protective of the men and women under her husband’s command as Trish was, as they all were. And she had the knowledge and skill to pull this off. Could Keith’s attack on them have been her tipping point?

“I’ll go over right away.”

“Thanks. But without CJ.”

“Without CJ. Alone. I’ll call you the second I know something.”

“You’re a good friend, Erica.” He squeezed her shoulder, then walked away.

Oh the guilt. A good friend didn’t cut bait and desert her friends. A good friend didn’t walk out on the best thing in her life without a word. Isn’t that what had gotten her into the mess with Keith in the first place? Always doing what was expected of her? Was this different because her emotions were fully involved? Where were her instincts when she needed them? She needed distance and perspective, and she needed to be honest about that. If they—if Mike—didn’t understand, then so be it.

She passed CJ on her way back to the scene. “I need to talk to Mike. I won’t be long.”

“Actually, he’s right behind me.” He walked on.

Erica’s heart jolted at the sight of Mike headed her way. Nothing was hotter than a big man in turnout gear. This wasn’t going to be easy when all she wanted was to cling to him. They stopped a foot away from each other, both wary of prying eyes. “I won’t be at the house when you get home. Where can I leave the key?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I have an extra at the station. Stay at the house. I’ll bunk at the station for now.”

She clutched her fingers together, trying not to shake. “I…I need my space, Mike.”

Silence dragged out. She braced herself for an argument.

“I understand,” he finally said. “I’ll need to grab a change of clothes.”

Erica shook her head. “I can’t stay at your house. I need some distance…from all of you.”

He spread his palms out. “And where will you stay? In an empty house?”

Her chin trembled, but she refused to cry. Not now. “I’ll figure something out.”

“I’m sure you will.” He was pissed. She’d seen that look directed at people before. “In any event, I’ll be tied up most of the day here and at the station. You’re welcome to stay. You need me, you know where to find me.”

He tapped the brim of his helmet, did an about-face, and walked away. Considering the force in his stride, she half expected to see gouges in the sidewalk. It took willpower for her to stay in place, to not run after him and rescind everything she’d said. Leaden steps carried her to CJ’s truck. He started the engine when she opened the door. In minutes they were at Mike’s house.

“Need me to stay with you?” he asked.

“I’m going over to Betty’s.” She was glad for the excuse.

“Call if you need something.”

“Sure.” No promises. Distance. Time.

Erica waited until his truck disappeared down the street, then got in her car to check on Betty. The Stantons lived on the other side of town in a pretty little cul-de-sac, where neighbors banded together for block parties and Christmas-decoration fests that were the talk of the town. A shame Betty hadn’t been able to find the support she’d needed from them. But then, Betty didn’t talk with any of the firefighter wives about her problems. Not in depth.

She pulled into the circle of homes as dawn lit the sky. Those dreams of spending this Saturday morning lounging in bed with Mike felt like an eternity ago.

All was dark at the Stanton home. Even the security lights had switched off. Erica parked in the driveway and dialed the Stantons’ number. No answer there or on Betty’s cell. Betty also didn’t respond to the doorbell or to Erica’s knock.

“She’s not there,” the next-door neighbor, out to retrieve the morning paper, called out. “I saw her leave around dinner last night. Had suitcases with her.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

The man shrugged. “Didn’t ask. She’s been wanting to keep to herself since, you know. Just figured she was off to see the kids for the weekend.”

Erica thanked him, then dialed Craig. It wasn’t easy news to tell him that his wife had taken off without a word, but at least he knew she was probably all right. He agreed she could have gone to San Diego to see one of their kids. Too bad his voice said differently. At least she was gone before the house fire, so that eliminated her from the suspect pool. Anything more was between the Stantons.

She returned to Mike’s house, fully intent on gathering her things and leaving. The prospect of her empty house didn’t hold any appeal. Why not take care of what business she could in the comfort of his home? It’d kill time until she could hit Saturday-morning yard sales, thrift stores, and dollar stores. Everyone knew where she’d spent the night. Her remaining while Mike worked hardly mattered, especially considering her circumstances.

Erica brewed a pot of coffee and popped some bread in the toaster. While waiting, she executed an Internet search for a Karen Randall in California, pulling up a whopping three million hits. A search of that last name—Randall—twenty-eight million.

“Now what?”

Erica took her coffee and toast to the couch. The life-insurance company might have Karen’s contact information from when she was the beneficiary, but the policy had been burned in the house fire. As for the renter’s insurance…that information was in her safe-deposit box, and the bank was closed until Monday. Notify her parents?

No, she couldn’t deal with them right now. Though she’d like to think they’d support her, she couldn’t take the chance they’d turn this around on her. That instead of offering her sympathy on the fire and her loss, they’d focus instead on the end of her marriage, the fact she’d spent the night with another man, and fault her for not trying harder. She needed shoring up, not tearing down. The irony struck her. She
had
people to support her, and she was turning her back on them.

“Ah hell, this isn’t getting anything done.”

It was seven in the morning. She had an hour, maybe thirty minutes, before people would open their yard sales and she could scope them out, see what she could find. Time enough to get to her place, organize her thoughts, take some measurements for furniture, and plan. Leaving her firefighter family was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. It was stupid. She knew that. But their association with her had cost them enough. Erica refused to put them through any more crap. Maybe once the turmoil surrounding Keith’s death subsided, things could return to normal. Real friends would understand, right?

And lovers?

She waved the errant thought aside and forced herself to focus on the here and now, things she needed to accomplish, making list after list in her head as she gathered her stuff and headed to her new rental. Locked on and ready to take control.

So much so she didn’t realize she had company until she pulled into the driveway and saw Trish holding the front door open while Bub and Berto manhandled an Early American green couch into the house.

“What the hell.” Erica rolled down her window. “Want to tell me how you managed to get into my house?”

CJ and Gina came up the walk hauling a kitchen table with a yellow Formica top. “We’re firefighters,” Gina proudly declared. “We can break in and out of anything.”

“You said you wanted our help moving this morning,” Trish called out. “Here we are.”

Erica didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or both. She cut the engine and opened the door.

“We take care of our own, Erica.” The sound of Mike’s voice next to her car sent a jolt of surprise through her.

“I thought you had to work.”

Mike shrugged. “I had time to kill before I had to get back to work. The guys are going to help me move the stuff over here from my spare bedroom.”

“But…”

“United we stand, sweetheart.” His body consumed the space between the open door and the car. “Friends don’t desert friends. If you think for a minute that any of us are going to let you live in an empty house, if you think for a second any of us are going to let you shut yourself away and deal with this shit alone, you’re crazy. You wouldn’t do it to us, and we’re not doing it to you.”

“Mike… What about us? We can’t… People will crucify us.” Even as she said it, she wanted him to pull her against him and tell her it didn’t matter, that everything would be all right, that he’d never leave her side.