“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 youthink—”
“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.
Chapter 3
Two baths, four books and a pair of bug-in-a-rug tuck-ins after her return from Station 1, Rachel tromped down the stairs of her duplex, arms and legs as heavy as her head. With two years of practice to guide her, she maneuvered easily around the squeaky fourth step. If only the window next to the landing, the one that always welcomed the chill with an engraved invitation, could have helped to cool the heated skin on her face.
She slumped on the lumpy sofa, adjusted her robe over her pajamas and closed her eyelids though she still had at least two hours of computer work to finish before bed. The meeting with Prentiss hadn’t gone well, but what had she expected when she’d bulldozed the man the moment he’d arrived at the firehouse? It was naive to think that the new guy, who owed his position to Riley’s termination, would care what happened to her brother, but she hadn’t wanted his help, anyway. If she had, she should have been nicer to him.
