28. Heard Loud And Clear
HEARD LOUD AND CLEAR
“Ash, we need to talk.”
He frowned, not happy with Alan’s terse tone when he just called his name.
Like it was a command.
“Sure,” he said, putting the rag down. He’d been cleaning the truck in their downtime. Not that they got much, but he’d only been on shift a few hours. “What’s going on?”
“In here,” Alan said, jerking his head into the conference room and shutting the door. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“I don’t have one, but I’m going to in a minute if you give me shit like that again.”
He might be a laid back guy, but he didn’t take crap from anyone.
“The chief just called me in questioning me on the fires.”
“Which fires?” he asked.
“The arsonist. Like I’m a fucking suspect!” Alan shouted. “It had to come from you that I’ve been to all the fires.”
He was shaking his head. “Nope. I haven’t said a thing to the chief about it. Not sure why you think it’s me when there are five other men on the shift on top of it.”
“Because your fucking girlfriend is the one getting the attention on these stories. The one writing them. So yeah, I think it’s you.”
His fingers flexed.
It wasn’t him, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it came from GFPD or the sheriff’s department.
Tate or Keegan.
That call he’d gotten last night. From Tate, telling him about another email.
It’d already put him in a mood that she’d not only gotten another email—and didn’t tell him—but that she’d gone to dinner with Sean Murphy.
So yeah, he was already ready to put his fist through a wall last night.
He didn’t need Corbin blasting him over not sharing the news Skye was in contact with Sean.
Here he’d thought he was doing her a favor not saying a word.
It was her right to try to mend a fence with her biological brother, but it hadn’t seemed as if anything was coming about it.
What he didn’t understand was why she hadn’t shared her dinner plans prior.
Were they disagreeing? Yep. They were.
But he was willing to bet those plans had been made prior and yet she was still keeping it from him.
“It’s not me. The chief didn’t tell you who it was?”
“No. He said they have to look into everyone and my name came up. I had to explain why I was there for them all.”
“And what did you say?” he asked. “Because we know damn well you weren’t working them all.”
“First off,” Alan said, “I wasn’t at them all. I wasn’t at the first one.”
“Maybe no one saw you there.”
Might as well play devil’s advocate and push some buttons.
The way the guy was coming at him now, Alan deserved it.
“Don’t push me,” Alan said. “This is my life you’re playing with. Do you know what it’s like to be accused of something like this?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe you shouldn’t be running out to fires every time there is one when you aren’t working. It looks suspicious. Enough that other people are noticing it.”
“Yeah, well, you know what I think? I think maybe it’s Skye. She’s been to just as many of them as I have. I made sure the chief knew it.”
“Don’t be a dick,” he said. “There is no way Skye could be starting those fires.”
“Really? And you think I am?” Alan walked closer and got right in his face.
“You think I don’t know the history there?
That her family died in a fire? Maybe she’s got a bit of a bug herself.
Maybe she likes things going up in smoke?
Or getting attention for that? Could be she wants to see if someone else can make it out alive or dies like her parents did. ”
He grabbed Alan by the shirtfront and slammed him into the wall. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he snarled.
“What’s going on in here?” His captain came in, pushing closer and pulling Ash off Alan.
“Someone is running their mouth when they’ve got no right to.”
“Alan,” Christian said. “Don’t take this shit out on Ash. I’ve seen you at every fire on my shift along with all the guys. I’m not sure why you’re narrowing in on Ash.”
“Because Skye is his girlfriend. His best friend’s sister. It stands to reason it’s all connected.”
“It’s not connected,” Christian said. “I’m the one who brought it up to the chief so if you’ve got a problem with it, then we can go in my office. You’re cleared for now, but I can make that change.”
Alan shoved his arm away and stalked out of the conference room.
“Is he really cleared?”
“Yeah,” Christian said. “There is no proof other than what he said. And no reason to dispute it either right now. He’s always shown up at fires, even ones that we know the causes of. Like last night.”
“I know.”
“But you still thought it might be him?”
He shrugged. “It’s hard to turn your mind off anyone.”
“Like Skye,” Christian said. “That email last night, she admitted she was right there when it was sent.”
“Oh, are you kidding me?” he roared. “There is no way.”
“You don’t know that,” Christian said. His captain backed up when Ash hissed. “But highly unlikely.”
“That’s right. I’ve been with her when she gets those emails. Explain that?”
“That’s why I said it’s highly unlikely. But Alan has pull in this area. His family has long ties to the GFFD. You know that. I know that. I didn’t bring his name up as an accusation.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because we need to catch this person before it gets out of hand. And that email last night says it’s escalating.
The fact that the person was so close to Skye, again, is she a target?
Is she in danger? I brought up Alan, because maybe he’s seen something we haven’t, and if the questions turned another way, that’s on the chief. ”
“You think I haven’t asked myself those questions? I’ve got her brothers on my case right now too. I should have been with her last night. I should be with her tonight, but I can’t be because I’m here.”
“Seems like she’s got a big enough family to keep an eye on her,” Christian said. “For now, we have to keep our eyes on everyone and everything. I know the chief told Alan he was brought up to be eliminated.”
“Is he? Is he really?”
Christian looked around. “I don’t want to accuse anyone, but I’m not closed off to it. You and I both know, it happens. He’ll be watched, but that is all we’ve got. Having him here and still working actually makes it easier to watch than not.”
“If he’s smart he won’t show up at any more fires unless he is working,” he said.
“Or he will do it out of spite and say he has no reason to change what he’s always done.”
Ash groaned. “The guy needs to get a life. He’s got a wife and kids at home. I don’t get it.”
“It’s not for us to ask or question,” Christian said. “And I don’t need to tell you to keep us informed of anything you find out.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide,” he said. “Everything that Skye finds out, it’s reported. I don’t need to be on her case to do it. Like you said, she’s got enough others ahead of me.”
And he’d just have to accept that for now.
That he might not be the first person she called or went to.
Or he’d have to get back to being the first and that meant apologizing for being pushy and angry because he was worried about her.
But that wouldn’t happen until he was off shift and they had more time to talk.
At nine that night, when most of the town was settling in, lights going out one by one and routines pulling people towards getting cozy for the night, the alarms screamed again.
Another structure fire.
He told himself he wouldn’t see her there. That he didn’t want to.
But the lie barely lasted until the trucks rolled into the new development.
The house sat alone on its lot, nothing around it but raw dirt and darkness. A construction shell. A skeleton of what was supposed to be a home in a few months. Ash knew the second he saw it, knew in his bones, that Skye would be here soon.
This house in flames. He’d worked on it himself just last week with Corbin. He knew every exposed beam, every stretch of plywood. The floor plan and what it was going to be.
He knew because it was a Lancaster job.
They were lucky—damn lucky—the hydrants had already been installed on the street, close enough that they could move fast. The hoses were dragged and snapped into place, men shouting over one another as their training kicked in.
He took his position, yanked the lever, and aimed straight for the front of the structure where flames were already clawing their way out.
There were no windows. No doors. Nothing finished.
The house had been scheduled for those openings to be buttoned up this week. Now it was nothing more than fuel.
Lumber and plywood burned hot and fast. The roof caught with a roar, the fire racing across it like it had been waiting for the chance to put on a show.
This blaze hadn’t crept. It hadn’t hesitated.
It had started hard. Deliberate. And designed to destroy.
This wasn’t a coincidence. It wasn’t fate. And it sure as hell wasn’t a sign.
It was a warning.
To Skye. To the Lancasters. To him.
He felt it settle deep in his gut as the flames raged, and he knew, without question, that Skye’s family was going to feel it too.
He fought it until his arms shook, and his lungs burned raw.
Water hammered the structure in relentless sheets, steam billowing back at them in blinding clouds. He adjusted his stance, his boots sinking into the mud, his shoulders screaming as he held the line. The heat was vicious. The bright flames lighting up the sky.
There’d be no calls for backup. There was nothing else around to catch.
Without them here, it’d have burned out in the dirt and mud from the recent rains.
But this house. It was completely lost.
The roof finally gave with a sound like thunder splitting open the night. Sparks shot skyward as it collapsed inward, the flames choking on themselves, starved and furious all at once.
They didn’t let up.
Not until the fire was beaten down to hissing embers and blackened bones on the concrete floor of the basement.
When the call finally came that it was knocked down, he eased back, his chest heaving, sweat freezing almost instantly against his skin. He handed off the hose, peeled his helmet free, and dragged in a breath that tasted like smoke and ash and something bitter underneath.
That was when he looked up.
The crowd had grown while they worked. Flashing lights painted faces in red and blue, silhouettes clustered behind the tape. And there, easy enough to spot, like she always was, stood Skye.
Her arms were wrapped tight around herself, her face pale in the harsh glare, her eyes locked on the ruins of what should have been a house.
Corbin stood at her side, his jaw clenched and every inch of him coiled and ready. Tate was in front of them, working, hands on his hips, scanning the scene and most likely looking for the same thing they all were.
Tate would have known who this house belonged to right now. He would have called his brother.
And Keegan, he stood there too, in uniform, legs slightly apart, his gaze sharp, calculating.
Both Tate and Keegan had put some time in on this house also.
The last to come running in were Jim and Carrie.
They all knew and were thinking the same as him.
His heart slammed into his ribs.
He crossed the distance without really thinking, his boots crunching over debris, every step pulling him closer until Skye finally turned and saw him.
But another figure caught his sight first.
Alan. Standing there looking on. This time with his retired father and uncle next to him. As if he needed support to prove that the brotherhood stood together for times like this.
Alan would be questioned again, but maybe he’d hoped it wouldn’t come tonight.
Dickhead couldn’t even stay home after this morning.
Especially knowing who owned this property.
“Ash,” she said, his name barely more than a breath.
He stopped in front of her, close enough to feel the tremor she was trying to hide. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, once. “That was going to be my question to you.”
“I’m fine. You can see it yourself.”
Corbin shifted, meeting Ash’s gaze. “This wasn’t random.”
“No,” he said flatly. “It wasn’t.”
It couldn’t have been. There was absolutely nothing in that shell of a house that could have started the fire. No wiring yet. Zero tools. It was wood and wood only.
Tate exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled. “I heard the fire inspector will confirm it, but”—his jaw tightened—“this was intentional. We know it.”
Keegan’s eyes never left the wreckage. “Message heard loud and clear. I know I’m not the only one thinking that.”
Keegan’s gaze turned to Alan.
“Don’t do anything,” Ash said to Keegan. “I had a run-in with him today. There are eyes on him and coming here tonight is either smart and calculated or stupid as fuck.”
“Cocky,” Corbin said. “That’s what it is.”
That was crossing his mind too, but he had to tell himself to not let his emotions get in the way.
But it sure was hard when he turned back to the woman he was losing his heart to again surrounded by her family.
The family he’d been accepted into years ago.
It felt like it was a shot at him also and he never backed away from a fight.
Watching the Lancasters cluster together in the glow of the fire, knowing he’d aimed true and struck dead center, made every second of waiting worth it. Weeks of restraint. Weeks of simmering. All paid off in that single, perfect moment.
The rush of moving so fast to strike again, this time in their space, was intoxicating. Funny how inspiration came from the unlikeliest places. A careless teenager trying to make a statement handing over the best next step for him.
He’d walked straight up to the porch, deliberate, calm, like he had all the time in the world. And he did because there wasn’t a soul around on the street.
It was empty, the first home being built.
He’d pressed his boots into the tracks already left behind by workers so nothing stood out.
It was so easy to walk inside with no doors or windows. Like an open invitation for some fun.
He’d barely been able to contain his laughter as he struck that match and held it to the rag. The heavy bottle full of gasoline arched in the air as he tossed it against the wall and watched it shatter, spread, and climb.
The fire was greedy. Just like him.
Alive, the way he felt in that moment.
He should have run. That was the smart move.
But he didn’t. He couldn’t.
He stood there, framed in the doorway, watching it sizzle, listening to the crackle deepen, feeling the heat lick at his skin like never before.
Only when it felt complete did he step back, retrace his path, and stroll down the street like any other passerby.
The rush stayed with him, the heat, the closeness, the power. Then came the aftermath. The Lancasters standing together, helpless, watching everything they’d built burn.
And Skye. Her arms wrapped around Ash, trying to hold him after he’d battled the blaze. That was the finishing touch.
All of them clinging to each other, scrambling, searching for answers that would never come.
What a perfect night it had been.