Chapter Two #2
At Rachel’s sharp tone, her daughters stirred on the sofa.
Mick welcomed the distraction and the chance to avoid her question.
No matter what the final report had shown, he was command on that scene.
He would never give himself a pass over decisions he’d made that day. They still kept him awake at night.
She held her finger to her lips and watched the children as though she hoped they would go back to sleep.
Instead, one little head popped up from the leather.
The other lifted seconds later. The girls rubbed tiny fists over eyes as deep brown as their mother’s and then climbed down and squeezed onto her lap, leaving the seat next to her empty.
“Girls, this is Mr. Prentiss.”
Mick didn’t miss that she avoided using his title altogether this time. “Hi, young ladies.”
“These two are Carly and Carissa.”
One raised her hand and then the other as though used to helping people tell them apart. They both said bashful hellos.
The child on Rachel’s left leg, who’d identified herself as Carly, pressed her forehead to her mother’s shoulder.
“Can we go now, Mommy? I’m sleepy.”
“It’s hot in here,” Carissa whined. “I want to go home.”
“Just a few more minutes.” Rachel waited until their frowns turned to reluctant nods.
“We can take this up at another time,” Mick offered though he still didn’t know what she expected from him.
“I need to say this now.”
Her determination shouldn’t have surprised him after she’d waited in his office for so long. He twirled one hand, giving her the chance to say what was on her mind.
“My brother is innocent. Just like you.” She lifted her chin, daring him to contradict her. “Yes, he has a drinking problem. But he did none of the other things he’s being investigated for. He would never have embezzled funds or doctored incident reports.”
She shook her head hard. “I know he didn’t.”
At the waver in Rachel’s voice, Mick straightened.
She wasn’t as certain as she wanted him to believe.
A lump settled at the back of his throat, her moment of vulnerability touching him in a way her tough act never could have.
Even if predicting what an addict would or wouldn’t do was like fortune-telling with a cracked crystal ball, he understood her need to explain what she couldn’t understand.
“You know sometimes when a whole story comes out—”
“Names are cleared,” she finished before he had the chance.
He didn’t bother saying that the opposite was also true. She wouldn’t look at him, anyway, suddenly focused on brushing back Carissa’s hair and then Carly’s.
“My brother’s been in rehab for two weeks now,” she said, when she lifted her head. “He can’t defend himself. Somebody’s going to have to do it for him.”
“Why don’t you just let the authorities—”
“Do you really believe anyone’s looking out for Riley’s interests here? Someone who’s tarnished the fine reputation of the storied Mount Isabel FD?” She stared him down, waiting until he shrugged. “That’s what I thought.”
“I’m sure they’re as interested in finding the truth as you are.”
His words tasted like acid on his tongue. Like they’d agreed, he was a stranger in that little town. He couldn’t know whether anyone there cared about determining the facts. Her skeptical look told him she knew it, too.
She watched him for several seconds longer and then tilted her head from side to side as though considering whether to say more.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I believe Riley might have uncovered information that certain individuals didn’t want him to find.”
“What do you mean? Who was hiding something? And what were they covering up?”
She pushed back her shoulders. “If I knew those answers, don’t you think I’d be shouting them in the middle of Main Street to anyone who’d listen?”
“Then who do you think—”
“I don’t know yet.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “Someone in a position to keep Riley quiet. And something bad enough that they’re willing to burn down half the city to hide it.”
A shiver crawled up the back of his neck. It made no sense that the first person in town to suggest a tie between the series of fires and the station scandal would also be one whose family had the most to lose if she’d guessed wrong and her brother were implicated in both.
“You think there’s a connection?”
She tucked her chin, looking at him from beneath her lashes. “Don’t you?”
“It’s too soon for me to guess. But wouldn’t you say your theory on how they’re linked is a little convenient?” That it was also plausible made him shift his feet under the desk.
“A guy who lucked into this job shouldn’t be asking anyone about convenience.”
“That’s fair,” he said, though he wouldn’t say he’d won the lottery in accepting the position. “Do you have any proof?”
Her eyes flashed with uncertainty then froze over again. “Not yet, but I will.”
A memory of a two-way radio transmission stole into his thoughts, the sound crackling in his ears.
A call for a check-in that went unanswered.
An interminable wait. Then those earsplitting beeps from two Personal Alert Safety System devices, indicating that the firefighters were motionless.
If he’d issued a stronger order at the time, then maybe…
Sweat gathered at the back of his neck. “I know it’s difficult, but I need you to stay out of the investigation.”
When she started to argue, he held up a hand. “If I see signs that the investigators aren’t searching for the truth, wherever it leads, I’ll—”
“Do nothing. Just like everyone else.”
Without looking at him, she helped the twins slide off her lap and stood. She’d already yanked open the door before he could come to his feet and find his words.
“Rachel—I mean Miss Hoffman—wait.”
She ushered her daughters into the hall and then glanced over her shoulder, giving him the chance to speak.
“If you’re right about someone targeting your brother, then you have to know that it’s dangerous for you to get involved. You shouldn’t take that kind of risk.”
“And if you’d ever cared about anyone, you’d understand that I have no choice.”
She slipped through the gap and closed the door behind her.
Mick rounded the desk and yanked it open again. The hallway was already deserted. Only the light floral fragrance that lingered in his office and the dents on the sofa proved that anyone had been there at all.
You should also prepare yourself for things not being what they seem. As Rachel’s words replayed in his thoughts, the hair at his nape stood. He would have gone after them, but he would have had to explain to his new crew why he’d chased local residents through the building.
What was he thinking, accepting this job in the first place?
His hero complex should have sputtered and died after the events in Chicago.
He’d clung to it instead only to land in this sinkhole, with questions spreading like crevices in all directions.
Were those inside the MIFD, including the former fire chief, guilty of corruption, or could it have come from outside these brick walls?
And how did those matters connect with the work of a possible serial arsonist?
He had no answers to those questions, but the one thing he did know was that he and the investigators wouldn’t be the only ones asking them. If Rachel was right that someone had targeted her brother for nosing into private matters, what else would they be willing to do to keep their secrets buried?
Mick closed his eyes and shivered. He wouldn’t have to learn that answer because he would keep Rachel far from that investigation.
The flutter in his gut over the possibility of seeing her again warned him that he should steer clear of Riley Hoffman’s too-sexy sister, but, like she’d said, he had no choice.
He couldn’t allow anyone else to be hurt—or worse—on his watch.