Stephanie Newton - The Widow's Protector

Hunter tried to keep his mind on the rational, keep the emotional out of it. But they were talking about a six-year-old boy. “The arsonist could’ve called from anywhere. I’m sure these are burner phones, but we can try to get serial numbers off them and find out what we can from the call logs.”

The chief nodded and pulled another evidence bag from his pocket. “This one came from the Sugar Plum.”

The setup was the same, but it wasn’t as melted because the fire at the inn last month hadn’t burned as hot. The sick feeling intensified.

Hunter reached for the board and turned the phone on its side. He found what he was looking for. He didn’t know this arsonist’s name, but he knew the signature—a curl in the wire leading to the vibrating electrode in the side of the phone.

It was the signature of an arsonist who had killed before. Brother, father, cousin, husband. This same arsonist had taken the life of firefighter Jimmy Cobb.

Anger iced into determination. The killer had gotten away once.

But not again. New evidence, new chance for Hunter to bring in this criminal. Hunter wouldn’t rest until this guy was behind bars where he belonged.

TWO

“I got six stitches in my arm.” Sean pulled his pajama top over his head and climbed into his fire-engine bed. “Jordan B. only got four stitches in his foot when he kicked that nail.”

“Very impressive. Is that what you’re going to show your class tomorrow in show-and-tell?” Fiona pulled up the covers to his chin, sheets covered with little fire hats and cute floppy-eared Dalmatians. Sheets that had been picked for a little boy with a firefighter daddy. They matched his fire-engine-red walls. “Or are you going with one of your Lego creations again?”

“I want to take Hunter and Liam for show-and-tell.”

She stopped in the motion of tucking his favorite stuffed elephant under the covers with him. “Hunter and Liam? Why?”

“Because Hunter rescued Miss Betsie and Liam helped me after the fire.” He gave her a look that said, duh, why do you think? “They’re heroes.”

“I see your point.” She tickled his chin and he giggled as she turned out the light and then remembered something from the fire that she’d been meaning to ask him. “Sean, why did Hunter call you L.J. today?”

“He calls me that sometimes. It stands for Little Jimmy. He says I remind him of my dad.” Sean’s voice was getting sleepy. “My dad was a hero, too.”

Fee closed her eyes. Unfortunately, Jimmy had been all-too-human. But Hunter had given her son something irreplaceable—a way to see his dad in himself. “Your dad was something special, funny and smart and brave—just like you. I love you.”

Sean mumbled an “I love you, Mommy.” Fiona leaned over and kissed him on his head.

Gathering up his dirty clothes and wet towel off the floor, she started down the stairs. Halfway down, she sank to a sitting position, dropped her head into her hands and let the tears fall she’d been holding in all day. She’d gotten used to one empty pillow, one missing piece of their family. She wouldn’t have survived another one.

When Sean was born, Jimmy had given her a tiny gold disc with Sean’s first initial and his birthstone to wear around her neck. She never took it off. She wrapped her hand around that pendant, as if by clutching it in her palm, she could somehow keep him safe. This fire had brought back so many feelings that she’d thought she’d buried.

Fear, doubt, grief.

A soft knock at the door jerked her head up. She swiped at her cheeks with the back of one hand, leaving the pile of clothes where she sat on the stairs. A quick peek through the peephole told her it was Hunter. He had his arm propped on the wall beside the door. The line of his body said he was as tired as she felt. She pulled open the door. “I have coffee made. It looks like you could use some.”

“Mrs. Davenport sent you some lemon squares.” The plate was in one hand. He held out her keys with the other. “And I brought your car back.”

“I don’t think so.” She pretended to consider him. “In fact, definitely no. I like the blue truck. It makes me feel tall.”

He gave an overdramatic sigh, but his eyes were serious as he studied her face. “You doing okay, Red?”

She didn’t meet his eyes, instead reached for the plate of lemon squares and headed for the kitchen, ignoring his question. “I really appreciate you taking care of things at The Reading Nook after I left with Sean. I knew the stores on Main probably wouldn’t open, but I was afraid one of the ladies might show up.”

“And you were right, but I think Mrs. D. just wanted to pump me for information.”

“About the fire? Do you know anything?” Fiona slid a cup of coffee to him.

He took a swig from the mug and reached for one of the brownies she put on the plate with the lemon squares. “I walked through the scene with your Uncle Mickey this afternoon.”

“And?” She kept pouring coffee as if his answer didn’t mean anything to her. As if her whole world hadn’t changed two years ago when an arsonist set fire to an abandoned building on the outskirts of town.

“We’re still analyzing the evidence.” He looked down at the coffee in his mug and she knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

“Tell me, Hunter. You’ve always been straight with me.”

* * *

He looked up, into the blue eyes he’d fallen in love with as a teenager. They’d been inseparable growing up, best friends from the fort-building days all the way through the growing pains of middle school, both swearing off dating in favor of crabbing from her family’s dock.

But somewhere along the way, things had changed for him. He’d realized that his red-haired playmate had turned into a red-haired beauty. His plan was to meet her at the dock and ask her to the freshman ball. That plan was derailed when she came running down the pier after school, starry-eyed because Jimmy Cobb, the cutest boy in school, had asked her to the dance.

She was full of dreams and he…just kept his mouth shut. Jimmy had been the kind of guy that everyone liked. Funny and irreverent, he was always up to something. And their inseparable twosome became three.

Hunter pushed away from the table and paced to the counter. So, technically, no. He wasn’t always straight with her. He’d buried those feelings long ago in favor of something more important. A friendship that had sustained both of them through some tough times. His dad’s inability to find and keep a job, her mom’s battle with cancer. Jimmy.

She walked up beside him, leaning one hip against the cabinet. “Come on, you know I’ll find out anyway.”

He turned his head to look at her. “I can’t say for sure, but—”

“It’s him. Oh, Hunter, why is he back now?” Terror streaked across her features. “Is it Sean? Is he after my son?”

Hunter put his hand over her two. “There’s no indication of that, Fiona.”

“I know, it’s a crazy thought.” Her eyes filled and she fled the room.

He followed her into the living room. She was folding a load of towels that had been left on the couch, her hands full of nervous energy. She’d always preferred to do something. He was the one who dwelt on things.

But she looked up from the laundry, her eyes filling again. “I can’t quit thinking about Betsie, how she looked on that gurney. She saved Sean’s life and now she’s fighting for hers.”

He picked up a towel and looked for a place to put it. The coffee table was covered in books. He shoved over some and made a place for his stack. “What happened today is even harder for you because of what you’ve been through before. But this new fire means new evidence, a new chance that the arsonist made a mistake.”