Kathryn Springer - Tested by Fire

“Is something wrong?” John was at her shoulder, so close that his breath stirred her hair.

“No, I just thought I saw someone I know.” She peered into the darkness, hoping for another glimpse of him. “I guess not. I better get this tape up.” She remembered the careless way Ricky had flipped the cigarette into the street when their paths had crossed. She knew the Calhouns lived several miles outside of Miranda Station in one of the most expensive subdivisions. Their home was brand-new and the showcase of a successful businessman. Given the warehouse’s location, it was interesting that Ricky would be one of the bystanders at the fire.

Two hours later, the blaze was out and daylight was soaking into the horizon. Finn was exhausted. The building was a total loss.

“Gone,” she murmured. “The devastation is incredible, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” John agreed tightly.

She heard the change in his tone and looked at him, then guessed what he was thinking.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”

“How can you not realize?” he asked, his eyes narrowed. “Don’t you see the scar? Everyone else does.”

Finn swallowed hard. His eyes glittered like emeralds and his voice was low, but his words cut into her like the flick of a whip. “I see the scars here.” She reached up and touched the front of his shirt. “These are the only ones I see.”

He caught her hand and she felt the warmth of his skin. For a moment they stared at each other. Finn’s heart began to pound in an uneven rhythm.

“I’m going to go back now,” he said, breaking the silence. “Don’t worry about Colin, I’ll let him out.”

“Go ahead and take my Jeep,” Finn said. “I’ve got to go back to the station anyway and write out a report, so I’ll catch a ride home with one of the guys.”

He hesitated for just a moment, then turned and strode away.

John had found Seamus and Anne already awake and sitting at a table on their patio when he arrived. Both had been anxious to hear about Finn. He had accepted a cup of coffee and a slice of Danish, and had told them about the warehouse.

“Arson,” Seamus said. “We’ve had a string of fires lately but no one can figure out who it is.”

“They’ll get him,” John said. “This is a small city. He’ll make a mistake.”

“Hopefully not on someone’s house.” Seamus closed his eyes, obviously reliving the past—the sound of the explosion and the strangling smoke.

John knew what he was thinking. He didn’t break into a cold sweat anymore when he heard the sound of sirens but it was something he had buried deep within himself.

“I’m going to shower and take Colin out,” he said, rising from the wicker chair.

“Finn will be exhausted,” Anne fretted. “It’s a good thing she’s got the next three days off so she can rest up.”

Three days off. It would be the perfect time to do some more digging. If she was still talking to him.

This was becoming impossible. He still felt the touch of her hand on his chest. These are the only ones I see. Without thinking, he touched the side of his face and remembered Kristen’s expression the first time she’d seen him after the bandages had been removed. He’d seen the flare of sorrow in her eyes before she’d looked away. Funny, but he’d immediately sensed that the sorrow was for herself more than for him. Because if she married him, she’d be sentenced to a lifetime of staring at his burned skin.

And what did Finn know about scars? A twenty-three-year-old who had grown up in the shelter of a large, loving family?

Finn went back to the department after her relief showed up. Gil was at the desk. She skirted past him while he was studying the computer screen and went into the back office.

The Juvenile files were closed to the public, but she scanned them briefly and found what she was looking for. Ricky Calhoun. It wasn’t a long report, but it was enough.

Carl poked his head in the doorway. “Need a ride home, Finn?”

“Sure. Just a minute.” Finn closed the file.

“Looking for something in particular?” he asked curiously as they walked out to the parking lot.

“Not really.” Finn hesitated and glanced at him as she slid in the passenger side of the squad car. “I was checking to see if we have anything on Ricky Calhoun.”

“Ricky Calhoun?” Carl repeated the name in surprise. “Why?”

“I think I saw him last night at the scene.”

“And?”

“I have a hunch.”

“A hunch.”

“I think that Ricky Calhoun has been setting the fires.”

Carl gave a burst of amazed laughter. “You aren’t serious…Finn, you can’t be serious!”

“He started a fire in a Dumpster when he was a freshman in high school,” she told him.

“And that’s the basis for your hunch?” Carl was grinning. “Finn, that was years ago!”

Finn was beginning to wish she had never mentioned it. “He’s bored. He hangs around doing nothing.” As she voiced her thoughts out loud, she realized how thin her suspicions were.

“Finn, that kid is the son of the man who practically runs this city. Even if you had a picture of Ricky Calhoun standing outside a burning building, holding a match and wearing a T-shirt that said ‘I love the smell of smoke,’ it wouldn’t get past the DA’s office.” Carl turned the squad car into her driveway and looked at her. “A hunch isn’t enough for this one, kiddo.”

“Maybe if you and I went to the Chief—”

Carl held up one hand. “Whoa, slow down. I’m not going out on a limb with you on this one. Not without solid proof. Look, I know you feel like you have to prove yourself, but if you’re wrong and this backfires…” His index finger made a slicing motion across his neck.

“I know.” Finn grabbed her logbook and shoved it in her bag. “See you next week.”

Carl stuck his head out the window. “Did you forget that his dad is on the Police and Fire Commission?”

“No,” Finn muttered, raising her hand in a halfhearted wave. “I didn’t forget.”

The house was quiet when she opened the door. No Colin. She realized that John must have taken him over to the other house and was relieved at having no demands placed on her for the moment.

Maybe it was crazy to think that Ricky Calhoun had anything to do with the fires. He was just a kid, not a professional arsonist. If it was him, the fire inspector would have figured it out by now. No wonder Carl thought the smoke had gotten to her. Still, the feeling was so strong.

You can’t always trust your feelings.

She tried to push the thoughts from her mind and took a quick shower to get rid of the smell of smoke that still clung to her skin. Putting on her swimsuit and a matching pair of shorts, she stepped outside. When she slipped in through the patio doors of the big house, she found her grandmother in the kitchen, making chicken salad.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Anne hugged her. “John told us all about the fire. Did you just get home?”

“About half an hour ago. Chief said my eight hours started when I was called in for the fire, so that gives me the rest of the day off.” She found a spoon and sampled the salad. “A total loss, but no one was hurt and the fire didn’t spread to other buildings.”

“Have some more,” Anne offered. “I’ll bet you haven’t eaten since last night.”

“Just coffee and a stale doughnut,” Finn admitted.

“John took Colin for a walk a little while ago. They should be back any minute. It looks like you’re going to take a swim. It’s a beautiful day for it.” Anne chatted as she cleaned up the kitchen. “I have to get my hair done and then Seamus is taking me out for dinner tonight. He invited John along, but he said he’d prefer to stay here. The man keeps to himself, doesn’t he. I remember after the accident we invited him to family get-togethers and such, but he wouldn’t come.”