Trish Milburn - A Firefighter in the Family

She stared at the hulking, black frame of Oldham’s building, the suspect list running through her mind. Slowly, she circled the building, looking for anything she might have missed in her initial survey. She completed the circle empty-handed, finding herself on the side next to Zac’s bar.

Despite her gut feeling that Zac couldn’t be the arsonist, she’d have to thoroughly investigate the possibility. She’d depended on Cooke instinct once and it had cost her father the use of his legs and her the comfort and closeness of her family.

But when she officially cleared Zac, then what? Would she be tempted to act on her attraction? After his failure to stand up for her following the fire that had injured her father, how could she even consider that? Because part of her didn’t want to hold a grudge like other members of her family, no matter how hard it would be to trust him again.

She spent the next several hours interviewing potential witnesses, including the owner of the hotel behind Zac’s bar. Her instinctual belief in Zac’s innocence took a hit when the man said he couldn’t imagine Zac burning down Oldham’s condos, but that it was possible. Then he mentioned the old arson charge, even though Zac had been cleared of that. How often was she going to encounter that prejudice?

But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t believe Zac could be guilty. Zac had been a good firefighter, working as hard as the rest of them. She didn’t rely on instinct anymore. It made her nervous that she did now, believing Zac had nothing to do with the fire. She refused to think about being wrong.

ZAC THREW a line into the water, hoping a little fishing would distract him. Since Randi had shown up, any chance at peace of mind had vanished.

The first time he’d ever seen her, she’d been dressed in a little pink dress and on her way to a wedding. He’d been stunned into silence. Even when he’d later seen her sweaty and wearing dirty turnout gear, she’d still been pretty. He’d pursued her until she’d finally caved and agreed to go out with him.

He sighed. That bright, fun Randi didn’t seem to exist anymore. But while the years since her father’s accident might have hardened her, she was even more beautiful than before, damn it.

He watched as a couple of fishing vessels motored out to sea. The sky was blindingly blue, making the water the gorgeous blue-green that attracted vacationers to the Gulf Coast. If he’d left Horizon Beach after his first brush with arson accusations, he wouldn’t have had to deal with Randi Cooke or Bud Oldham, but then he’d miss mornings and views like this.

Zac glanced toward shore, where Adam lounged in his concession shack reading the latest issue of Sports Illustrated. To think that only a couple of days before, Zac’s life had been similarly carefree. Now, he spent the hours he wasn’t working or sleeping following in Randi’s footsteps, doing his own investigation. Asking witnesses what they had seen, finding out all he could about Bud Oldham. The sooner the real arsonist was caught, the sooner he could go back to his normal life, free of suspicion and frustrating feelings about Randi Cooke.

Movement at the beach end of the pier drew his attention. Randi stepped onto the pier, Thor at her side, and walked over to where Adam sat. Zac resisted the urge to jump into the water to avoid her and his mentally impaired desire to kiss her. He tried to ignore her, but found himself glancing toward her and Adam every few seconds. Was she asking Adam about the fire, about him? Or was he being paranoid?

The minutes crept by, Zac feeling trapped at the end of the pier and hating himself for the reaction. Why couldn’t he just walk by Randi as if he’d never seen her before? Acting as if he wasn’t concerned by her presence would be the best plan.

While he was looking back to where she stood in full investigative mode, something tugged on his line. The jerk surprised him, and he almost lost hold of his fishing pole. He reeled in the line, bringing the fish toward the surface, causing it to splash the water in a vain effort to get away. After a few minutes of wrestling, Zac pulled the flounder over the side of the pier. The large, flat, speckled fish flopped against the planking, desperate to free himself.

The fish represented some good dinners, but something about the crazed, trapped look in its eyes made Zac pause. He knew exactly how the fish felt. He stooped, freed the fish from the hook then let it drop over the side of the pier.

“Didn’t figure you for a catch-and-release kind of guy.”

Zac didn’t turn toward the sound of Randi’s voice behind him. “Just goes to show you never know everything about a person, no matter how good an investigator you are.”

She took a couple of steps closer. “You might be right, but it doesn’t keep me from trying.”

Zac stared at the waves lapping at the pier. “That I don’t doubt.”

“In the interest of officially removing yourself from the suspect list, why don’t you help me out a bit? Did you find anything useful during your investigation yet?”

So she knew. The good ol’ Horizon Beach gossip mill at work.

Zac shrugged. “Not really. Could be anyone, granted you’ve determined it’s arson.”

“So no one stands out from the crowd?”

She seemed genuinely interested, despite his defensive attitude. But it was her job to investigate every possibility. He didn’t keep track of the locals like he used to. Most of his contact was with tourists and any residents who ventured into the Beach Bum.

He didn’t really have close connections with anyone despite the time he’d lived there. The few friendships he’d begun to build after moving to Horizon Beach had collapsed the minute the “evidence” pointed at him two years before. Adam was the only person he could call a good friend here, though he had regular customers and neighbors with whom he enjoyed talking. Now that he looked at it like that, it seemed crazy to stay. But something about this slice of coastline had kept him from selling his home and moving on. At first, part of that reason had been a hope that Randi would return and he’d find a way to apologize. That, plus he was stubborn and didn’t like being pushed around.

“No one in particular. There was a general dislike of the guy and the project. You could probably find a so-called motive for about three-quarters of the residents. People like it to stay the same here, and a fifteen-story building didn’t really fit in.”

“It’s hard to stop change sometimes.”

Zac glanced toward the burned building. “Looks like someone decided you could.”

Randi didn’t look at the building. Instead, she kept staring at Zac. He let the silence sit there like an unwanted guest. But instead of giving in and asking other questions, Randi didn’t lose her focus.

Zac turned his gaze slowly toward Randi when he sensed her continued stare. “You’ve turned into a tough cookie, haven’t you?”

“Some would say so.” This morning, she hid her emotions so well that he couldn’t tell whether she considered it a compliment or whether she was remembering how people like him had forced her to harden herself.

“I’m betting some of those are sitting in prison with arson convictions hanging around their necks.”

Randi walked to the end of the pier and leaned back against the railing. “You’d win that bet.”

Zac watched her, wary but also missing the little T-shirt she’d worn the night before. “I’m not planning on joining them, particularly since I’m innocent.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve never sent an innocent man to prison.”

“You sure of that?”

She didn’t flinch from his stare or question. “Positive.”

“You’re definitely a Cooke.”