He grabbed his phone, searched for a number and tapped the link to dial it. His throat tightened as it rang.
“Mount Isabel Police Department, how may I help you?” the dispatcher said.
“I’m Fire Chief Mick Prentiss,” he said, pausing to clear his throat. “I’d like to speak to Chief Gilman.”
* * *
Mick’s whole body and his head ached by the time he pulled his truck in front of his apartment two hours later, the sky not quite dark but well on its way. He should have known that the police wouldn’t want to waste any time collecting the cadet program application to match with the crowd photos from the crime scene.
Now he wouldn’t even get a chance to try to see Rachel at the hospital. Not that she would have agreed to talk to him, anyway. But he could have tried.
He’d used the electronic key to open the main building door when he heard footsteps behind him.
“Mick Prentiss?”
He stopped and turned his head to the side, trying to stay calm. An officer had told him that Cameron Phillips was already under arrest before he’d even left the police station. Clearly, someone had missed something. Maybe an accomplice?
“Who’s asking?” He waited, trying to come up with a weapon he could use, besides his bare hands.
“I just wanted to get a look at the guy who took my job.”
Mick dampened his lips, then slowly turned around to face him. He’d seen the photos on Rachel’s wall. The man standing in front of him, with wavy blond hair, light-blue eyes and the kind of pretty-boy looks that Mick never had, was definitely Riley Hoffman. If not for the photos, he never would have guessed they were related. He looked nothing like Rachel.
This wasn’t the way he’d intended to meet her brother. But he hadn’t expected him to ambush him at his apartment, either. Come to think of it, Rachel had done the same thing to him. Maybe the thrill of surprise ran in the family.
“Mr. Hoffman?”
“Riley will do.”
Only it didn’t feel right, given that Mick had just left the man’s former office a few hours before. “I didn’t know you’d been—”
“Released from rehab?” Riley finished for him. “Yeah, they tossed my butt earlier today. Four weeks max, and even that was after getting two extra weeks approved.”
“If you’re looking for your sister, I’m sorry to have to tell you—”
“That she’s in the hospital? Yeah, I’ve heard. In fact, I’ve heard a lot of things.” Riley paused to eye Mick until he shuffled his boots in the snow. “Like that I can’t go home because, apparently, somebody burned down my house.”
Mick was relieved that Rachel’s brother hadn’t gone into details about what else he’d learned. “I’m so sorry. That has to be a hell of a way to come home. Especially now when you’re—”
Riley cleared his throat, crossing his arms and moving into a defensive pose that reminded Mick of his sister. They were related, all right.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” Riley said.
The younger man must have recognized that he’d spoken too quickly, too defensively. He glanced over his shoulder to the street and then turned back again, his expression a calmer one.
“I did hear that police took a suspect into custody about an hour ago,” Mick said.
“Now, that I hadn’t heard.”
“A seventeen-year-old named Cameron Phillips.”
“No way! Cameron? I thought he’d finally given up.” Riley blinked several times and tilted his head. “Wait. Did you say he was a suspect for the fire atmy house?”
“Yeah. Sorry. How’d you know him? I saw his picture in the fire cadet program applications—”
“Again?”
Mick narrowed his gaze and waited for him to explain.
