What didn’t make sense was why they’d shown up at that location in the first place. They could have followed her from town, as he’d suggested, but was there more to it than that? He hadn’t been able to connect the arson fires to each other yet, so why was he searching for ties between them and the situation involving Riley Hoffman and his sister? Still, if he’d learned nothing else from the tragedy at his former station, he understood the peril of failing to trust his instincts. People died when he didn’t.
So why had he ignored that sixth sense, and his usually trustworthy brain, when both had warned him to be cautious when Rachel had shown up outside his apartment? He blinked away the answer that came in a snapshot of her dark hair splayed on his pillow, a fantasy he couldn’t afford to indulge in over a woman intent on taking unnecessary risks. Yet even on the drive back to his truck, he’d been too caught up in her wildflower scent to notice that the SUV could have been tailing them.
Now he was left with this rib-crushing need to protect a woman from a threat he couldn’t clearly define. Worse, she’d only agreed to let him help once he’d brought her kids into it, the strange face-off with the other driver forcing her decision. The manipulation part he understood. His old man might have finally been proud of him over that one. His mom…not so much.
To avoid another walk over the jagged potholes of his past, he grabbed the files off his desk and carried them to the filing cabinet. But as he inserted the key from the set he’d been given at the village offices, something on the lock drew his attention. He bent at the waist to get a closer look. Tiny scratches feathered out from the keyway slot, signaling that someone had picked the lock.
His shoulders lifted toward his ears then lowered again. Though there were more questions floating around the station than even diesel fumes from the engines, he had a good guess who would want to get a look at his files. She’d had the opportunity, too, during those two unsupervised hours the night before in his office. The sheer number of scratches suggested that her burglary attempt had been just that, though.
When a knock came at his office door, he shot a look at the blurry window. He moved back to the desk, already certain he would keep that discovery to himself.
“Come in,” he called after the second knock.
Holt Howard stepped inside. “Hey, Chief. Wanted to check in before you go.”
Mick waved him in and gestured to his guest chairs. He didn’t care if the probie firefighter had only been pleasant to him to get in good with the new chief, who might affect his future with the department. Being an outsider could get lonely, and he appreciated the company.
“Saw your truck in the parking lot. Guess you found someone to take you to pick it up. I was going to offer…”
“Thanks. Sampson had an appointment in town and dropped me off before heading home.”
Mick cringed over his choice of fictional chauffeurs. The senior firefighter had barely spoken to him before shift change. While he hoped the probie wouldn’t check out his story, he should have been more concerned with how easily he lied. This was becoming a habit.
“Anything else?”
Holt stared at his hands. “I wanted to see howyourfirst day went.”
Though the younger man didn’t get more specific, they both knew what he meant. The crew had heard about the tragedy back in Chicago. It was the chief’s job, or the captain’s if he wasn’t around, to debrief crew members after a call, allowing them to decompress. That someone with as little seniority as Holt had performed the task for Mick instead spoke loads about his fitness for this leadership role.
“It was a great first day.” He chuckled, hoping the young man would do the same. “Nothing like getting to use our training from Day One.”
The firefighter’s eyes narrowed, and then he shrugged. Though Holt probably hadn’t heard the whole story about what happened at his former station, Mick decided to keep it that way. He had no way of knowing where the man’s true allegiances stood. Like Rachel, he couldn’t differentiate friend from enemy.
“Going to get a drink to celebrate your first day?” Holt indicated the five o’clock hour on the same wall clock that Rachel had pointed to not twenty-four hours before. “We have some good watering holes around here.”
“Nah. Haven’t even bought groceries yet, and I need to get a few things for my apartment before stores close. Looks like a squatter has taken over.”
“What about all your stuff back in Chicago?”
“In storage. For now.”
He didn’t have to say it louder for the other man to understand that this wasn’t a long-term gig for him. After the arson suspect or suspects were apprehended and the investigation of Riley Hoffman was completed, an outsider like him would no longer be needed. He could get back to Illinois and retire from public service. This time for good.
“You might find that this place grows on you,” Holt said as he headed out the door. “The people, too.”
After the lukewarm welcome he’d received so far, Mick would believe that when he saw it.
Chapter 7
Rachel peeked out from between her blind slats for the third time in twenty minutes and sighed. For the past two days she’d been telling herself that keeping them closed would make her feel safer. That only kept her wondering what lurked on the other side of the glass.
She scanned the street through the narrow opening. Like in both of her prior checks, mostly darkness stared back at her, along with the same shadows from other houses’ outdoor lights on piles of shoveled snow. She’d kept her own light turned off so she could see outside.
“What are you looking for, Mommy?”
Startled by the sound, Rachel released the slat, and the whole collection of them slammed against the window. Carissa stared up at her, wearing her favorite nightgown, a pre-transformation Cinderella on the front. Carly, whose two-piece pajamas announced her preference for sword-bearing Mulan, reached to lift the blind herself.
“Leave it—” Rachel stopped herself and tried again. “I mean…we should keep them closed at night, okay?”
