Heating Up (24 page)

“I'll be back in an hour,” Dana said.

“Perfect.” Carol let the cleaners in the front door while the roofers started carrying ladders and equipment to the building. “I'll just get the workers started and see you back here later.”

Dana walked with Aidan to his truck. “Where are we going?”

“The Bun Boy reopened today.”

“Really? That seems fast.”

“Their damage amounted to a storage shed,” Aidan said. “It's nothing like yours.”

“Each one is getting worse.” She got inside the passenger seat and belted herself in. “Why do you think that is?”

Aidan got in as well, turned on the ignition, and started the AC. “He's either getting braver or he didn't get enough attention with the first two. There's no telling. The Bun Boy?”

“I could definitely go for a burger.” She reached over and kissed him. “Do you still have to do your twenty-four-hour shift?”

She could feel him tense. “Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?” he asked, his voice edged with annoyance.

“I just thought you've been working like crazy. I'm not a firefighter; how would I know how it works? Why are you being so defensive?”

He appeared to relax. “Sue used to give me a hard time about my hours. I guess I'm still sensitive about it.” He'd alluded before to the fact that it had been a problem between them.

“I get it,” she said. “I work all the time myself because I'm at the mercy of the client's schedule. I was just curious as to how it works.”

“I wouldn't be on call as much if the fires weren't right here in Nugget. It would be ridiculous for the fire marshal to send someone else.”

She nodded. “That makes sense.”

“I'll be off in time for the wedding, though.”

“You really don't think it'll be weird for me to go with you?” Admittedly, she was curious about Lucky's cowboy camp, having never been there. And the idea of being Aidan's date thrilled her.

“Nope,” he said and squeezed her knee.

Cars crowded the Bun Boy parking lot. Apparently, it only took a few days of closure to get folks jonesing for their fried food fixes.

“Is there a table available?” Aidan gazed out the window at the picnic tables on the lawn. “There's one. You go get it and I'll order our food at the window. What do you want?”

She told him a burger, curly fries, and lemonade and headed out to grab the table. The temperature was cooler than it had been in days. Still nice to have shade under a large redwood tree. Aidan joined her with their drinks. She imagined they'd have to wait a while for their food order to be called.

“A lot of people ahead of us?”

“It would appear so,” he said. “They looked backed up in the kitchen.”

“I wonder when Donna plans to put in the barbecues.”

“Before the fire, she seemed to be in a big rush. Maybe she put it on hold for a while until the crowds get back to normal.”

Griffin pulled up on his motorcycle, saw the line, and started to leave. As soon as he spotted Dana and Aidan, he made a beeline for their table.

“I thought he was going to Hawaii,” Aidan said, sounding put out. Dana blamed his grouchiness on the fact that he was working too hard.

“Not until after Tawny and Lucky's wedding.”

“Great.”

Dana could've sworn she'd seen him roll his eyes. Lowering her voice, she asked, “What's wrong with you?”

“I don't like how he's always coming around you.”

Griff was too close for her to respond, but the idea that Aidan might be jealous . . . well, that had never happened to her before, and as childish as it was, she liked that he felt proprietary toward her.

“Howdy.” Griff shielded his eyes from the sun. “The place is a zoo.”

“It's like a grand opening.” Dana laughed.

“I heard about your office.” He shook his head and turned to Aidan. “What the hell is going on?”

Aidan lifted his shoulders. “We're working on it.”

“I have security cameras at the Gas and Go.” The station was on the same street as Nugget Realty.

“You do?” Suddenly Aidan showed a bit more interest in Griffin's company. “Would you mind if I came over and took a look?”

“Sure, but you can't see Dana's office from the Gas and Go.”

“What can you see?”

“A little bit of Main Street, but mostly the pumps, the inside of the convenience store, and a small section of the mechanic bays.”

“I'd like to check them out just the same. How many hours do your cameras record?”

“A few days,” Griffin said. “Then it starts recording over itself. You should have yesterday on it, though.”

“What about the day before?”

“Yep. Come over and check it out if you think it'll help.”

“I'll do that, thanks.” Someone called out their order and Aidan excused himself to get the food.

“You eating?” Dana asked Griff.

“I was thinking about it until I saw the line. There are hot dogs back at the gas station. You and Aidan going to the wedding?” He didn't need to say which wedding. In Nugget, it was just “the wedding.”

“Mm-hmm,” Dana said and gazed at her tennis shoes.

“If it's not assigned tables, save Lina and me seats next to you guys.”

Somehow Dana didn't think that was gonna happen. “Okay. You taking off?”

“Yeah, I'm not dealing with that.” He pointed at the growing group of people snaking around the building. “Tell Aidan to come in to the store anytime. I'm sorry about your office, Dana. These fires really suck. But I'm glad no one has gotten hurt. If you and Carol need any help cleaning up . . . or anything . . . let me know.”

“Thanks, Griffin.”

Griffin sauntered off, looking as drool worthy as he always had in faded jeans, motorcycle boots, and a T-shirt with the Gas and Go logo stretched across his wide chest. But for the first time he did nothing for Dana. Not so much as an imperceptible sigh. That was because she only had eyes for the gorgeous, tall, ripped man coming toward her.

“I got us soft serve too, because there was no way I planned to wait in that line again.” Aidan put the tray down on the table and handed Dana a wad of napkins. “You might want to eat it first before it melts.”

Ice cream before the main meal; that was Aidan McBride. “Okay.” She reluctantly took a few licks of her vanilla cone, even though a month ago it would've been sacrilege.

He smiled at her, undoubtedly reading her mind. “What's the difference between this and having a shake with your meal?”

“That's why I don't have shakes with my meals . . . it's mixing dessert with the main course.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Unlike her, he dug into his cone without hesitation.

“Why do you want to look at Griff's security cameras?”

“It's the only one on Main Street. I'd be remiss if I didn't look at them.”

She put her cone down and started in on her burger. “But he said it only filmed the gas station and a little bit of the street.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “It doesn't hurt to look.”

She got the impression there was more to it than that, especially from the way his eyes lit up when Griffin mentioned having cameras. “You've got a reason.”

She expected him to deny it; instead, he laughed. “You're too smart for your own good.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Yeah, I've got a reason, but I'm not planning to tell you. Not since you and Harlee are best buds now.”

“I would never betray your confidences,” she argued.

“I was just teasing. I know you wouldn't. But I really can't talk about an ongoing investigation, not even with you, as much as I would like to.”

“You would?” That amazed her. She didn't know a thing about firefighting or arson. Hell, she'd burned her own house down.

“I like how interested you are in it.”

Dana did find his job fascinating. She leaned over and laid her lips on him. “I'm interested in everything about you,” she said against his mouth, as he ardently returned the kiss.

They stopped when Aidan's phone rang. With the fires, every call had them on edge. He fished the phone out of his pocket, looked at the display, frowned, and put it away.

“You don't need to get that?”

“Nah,” he said, and then hesitantly added, “It was Sue.”

Dana's stomach dropped. “Why do you think she's calling you?”

“I don't know,” he said, but she got the impression he did. “She called the other day about a friend of her husband's being interested in my condo.”

“Did you talk to her then?”

“Yeah, for a little bit.” He didn't elaborate, and she would've liked him to.

“Do you think this has something to do with that?” Evidently not, or he would've answered.

“I don't know. But you and I are in the middle of lunch and you only have an hour. This is our time. I'll call her later. It can't be that important.”

That made her feel better about the situation. Still, his reaction to the call sent warning signals up her spine. She tried to tell herself this wasn't like the way it had been with Tim and Griffin. Aidan cared about her. But did he care about her more than he did Sue, or was this history repeating itself?

A
idan's phone rang again. Afraid that it was an unrelenting Sue, he hesitantly checked the ID. Not Sue, Rhys.

“I have to take this one,” he told Dana, got up from the picnic table, and found a private spot next to a nearby tree. “What's up?”

“We got the results back on both the shirt and the lighter. The shirt's got traces of accelerant on it. And you were right about the logo on the lighter: Rigsby Electrical. The problem is, he hands them out to clients like candy, so not exactly a smoking gun. Still, between the shirt and the lighter . . . You ready to take a ride over to the Rigsby farm?”

“I'm over at the Bun Boy and have to take Dana back to work. You want to meet there?”

“No, let's go together. Come over to the station when you're ready.”

He walked back to the table, where a family of five was loitering, making it obvious they wanted Dana and him to leave soon so they could have their seats.

“We've got to go,” he told her.

“Has there been another fire?” She immediately started collecting their trash and putting it in a neat pile on the tray.

“Not a fire.” He grabbed the tray from her hands and dumped their wrappers in a nearby garbage can. “Rhys and I have a lead to check out.”

“Oh?” She waited to hear what it was.

“I'll tell you later, but it could be promising.” Although he didn't think so. His gut told him it was a red herring.

“It's not dangerous, right?”

“Not in the least.” He reached for her hand and held it while they returned the tray to the takeout window and walked across the parking lot to his SUV.

Halfway there his phone rang again. Thinking it was Rhys with a new plan, he started to answer. Then he saw the caller was Sue and muttered a curse under his breath. Why was she suddenly calling him all the time? Like the first one, he let it go to voice mail. He'd handle it later.

“Who was that?” Dana asked.

“A friend from Chicago. I'll call him back after work.” He hated to lie to her. But he could tell that Sue's previous call had bothered her and he didn't want her upset. There was no reason for her to be. “I'm sorry I can't help you more at the office.”

“Carol and I are fine. We've also got two crews there. It's more important that you catch this jerk.”

When they got to her office it looked like the construction team had begun its work in earnest on the roof, and the cleaning crew had filled an industrial Dumpster with debris from the fire.

“You want me to carry those desks back in?” By now they should've dried.

“No, you go do what you need to do. We'll take care of the desks. Besides, a little more air will help get the smoky smell out them.” She kissed him. “Be careful and I'll hopefully see you tonight.”

He lingered, wanting to tell her how important she'd become to him, but he didn't want to do it and have to rush off. Instead, he watched her walk from his truck to the building, admiring the sway of her backside. He'd never felt so relaxed in a relationship. No pressure to impress her or be more than he was.

A memory of his second date with Sue flashed in his head. She'd been upset with the way he'd dressed—a pair of dress pants and a white button-down shirt—and had canceled their dinner reservations. The restaurant had been her idea and he'd happily booked it, despite menu prices that cost as much as a week's salary. But when he'd picked her up, she'd looked at his clothes warily.

“I thought you knew a place like this calls for a jacket and a tie,” she'd said. “It's not a big deal, I'll cancel.”

He'd insisted the restaurant would lend him a jacket if it had a dress code, but she wouldn't hear of it.

“It's fine. Really, I don't mind if we don't go there.”

Unfortunately, he'd been so blinded by her beauty that he hadn't seen a major red flag. Now he knew if you looked up “passive aggressive” in the dictionary, a picture of Sue would appear. Her favorite mantra was “I'm not angry,” but she always was. She was angry that he didn't do enough for her, that he didn't spend “quality” time with her, and that he didn't care about making a good impression, which was code for not being materialistic enough.

The idea that she'd fallen for a schoolteacher was laughable. Aidan would guess Sebastian made even less money than he did. Maybe, like Sue, he had a trust fund. Who knew?

On his way back to the square he played Sue's messages on Bluetooth. The first one was a hang up. In the second message she hesitated. “Aidan? . . . Uh, it's me, Sue.” And in a small voice, she'd continued, “I think I made a horrible mistake. I need to talk to you.”

Why the hell was she doing this? With no time to think about it anymore, he pulled into a parking space in front of the police station, got out, and went inside.

Sloane and Jake had their heads together.

“What are you two up to?”

“Checking to see if Rigsby has a sheet,” Sloane answered. Jake nodded in greeting.

“You want some coffee? I just made a fresh pot,” Connie said. Aidan had only met her once or twice but knew she was the police dispatcher. Cal Fire went through county dispatch, but occasionally residents would call in fire type emergencies to the police department, in which case Connie handled them. “The chief's on a call.”

“Sure.” He turned back to Sloane. “Does he have one?”

“I couldn't find anything. Jake's double-checking.”

It didn't seem like there would be too many jurisdictions to check; from what Aidan understood, Rigsby had grown up in Nugget.

Connie came back with a mug that said, “Homicide: Our day starts when yours ends.”

“I thought I told you to get rid of that cup.” Rhys had come out of his office and was walking toward them. “Seriously, it makes us look insensitive.”

Connie shrugged. “It's a perfectly good mug. Besides, it's the truth, so man up, Chief.”

Rhys shook his head. “I work with a bunch of goddamn lunatics. Come on back to my office.”

Aidan followed him into a glass room. There were blinds to make the office private from the rest of the station, but Rhys didn't bother to close them, just cleared a bunch of crap off a chair and motioned for him to take a seat.

“We have enough to arrest Rigsby but probably not enough for the DA to charge him.” Rhys took the chair behind his desk. “We could sit on him, do some surveillance, and strike when we catch him in the act. Or we could bring him in and see if he'll cop to it.”

Aidan didn't like any of those options. Like Rhys said, arresting him was a waste of time if they couldn't pin anything on him in court. It was too dangerous to hope they'd catch him before he did real damage. And the idea that he'd simply give a full confession just by them asking pretty please was a pipe dream. Yet they couldn't do nothing.

“Which way are you leaning?” Aidan asked.

“Haul him in, scare the shit out of him with the shirt, and hope he spills.”

“I didn't get a good feeling off Rigsby. I've met plenty of dudes like him, pumped-up gym rats who are resentful of the world. But my gut tells me he's not good for this.”

“Why's that?”

“Because no one is stupid enough to leave his shirt in a Dumpster at the scene. Not even lugheads who like to play with matches.”

“You'd be surprised,” Rhys said. “But I hear you. What do you think we should do?”

“First, I think we should check the security tapes at the Gas and Go. See if we spot Rigsby filling a gas can with fuel, because it was used as an accelerant in two out of our three fires.”

“What if we don't?”

“Then we question Rigsby and see where it gets us.”

Rhys stood up and grabbed a set of keys on a hook behind his head. “Let's go.”

Aidan followed him to his police SUV, and five minutes later they parked on the street in front of the Gas and Go, walking into the convenience store. The shop, which reminded Aidan of a small 7-Eleven, was empty. One of the mechanics saw them through a window from the garage and came over.

“Hey, Skeeter. Griffin around?” Rhys asked.

“He's upstairs. I'll get him.”

Aidan peeked inside the garage, curious what they were doing with a vintage Ford pickup. It was mint green and, if he had to guess, built in the 1950s. Not ordinarily a car buff, he was impressed. The Ford seemed to be in perfect condition and held a little slice of history.

The guy—Skeeter—came back in. “He'll be right down.”

“What are you doing with the Ford?” Aidan pointed through the window.

“Checking the brakes. The owner is taking it to a car show this weekend.” He cued up a picture on his phone and showed it to Aidan. “That's what it used to look like until we restored it.”

Aidan let out a murmur of appreciation. The photo showed a rusted, dented piece of junk. “Nice job. Must be worth a fortune now.”

“Nah, but it's good-looking. The former owner primarily used it on his ranch to haul hay but kept it outside, where the elements took their toll. The new owner, a collector, only uses it for car shows, parades, that sort of thing, and keeps it in a garage.”

“Beautiful job.” Aidan turned when he heard Griff come into the store.

He nodded his head in greeting. “You come to view the security footage?”

“Yeah,” Rhys said. “How far back can we go?”

“Friday. But the pictures will be grainy. Come on up to my office.”

They went outside and climbed a staircase to a second-story apartment someone had converted into work space, leaving a small kitchen and a bathroom with a tub intact. Griffin had a television where they could look at the surveillance recordings. Pulling up a couple of chairs, he rewound the footage to midnight on Friday.

“This is the best angle I have of Main Street,” he said.

“Actually, could we focus on the gas pumps?” Aidan asked.

Griff shot him a questioning look and changed the frame. “What's so interesting about the pumps?”

“Our arsonist used gasoline in two of the fires,” Rhys said. “We're looking to see if anyone filled a gas can. But we'd like you to keep that information under your hat for the sake of the investigation.”

“No problem, but a lot of people use gas cans, especially this time of year . . . for their boats, ATVs, Jet Skis, you name it.”

“We're aware of that,” Rhys said.

“Then why . . . ah, you're looking for someone in particular?”

“I didn't say that,” Rhys said in a Texas drawl that Aidan noticed came and went with his mood. According to Sloane, the police chief had worked for Houston PD for more than a decade before coming back to head up his hometown department.

“Whatever.” Griffin chuckled. “This'll take some time; you want something to drink?”

“I'll take a Coke if you've got one,” Rhys said, and Aidan asked for one too.

Griffin handed Aidan the remote control and wandered into the kitchen to grab the drinks. They made small talk while Aidan fast-forwarded the recording until he caught a human in the frame. If he or she was just filling a car tank, Aidan moved on.

“Stop it for a second,” Rhys said. “Isn't that Cal Addison?” It was a fuzzy picture of a man pumping gas into a red, five-gallon gas can.

“Don't know him,” Aidan replied.

Griff came over and hunkered over Rhys's shoulder, scrutinizing the frame. “Yep, that's him.”

Rhys laughed. “What? Did the bear T-shirt give it away?” He explained to Aidan that Addison and his wife owned the Beary Quaint, a motor lodge up the road. Aidan had driven past it a few times. A fire waiting to happen with all those chainsaw bears in the yard.

“He's got a fishing boat,” Griffin said. “Takes it out on Lake Davis.”

Rhys nudged his head at the screen, indicating that Aidan should continue fast-forwarding. They went through the footage over the next couple of hours. Aidan thought it was a little like watching paint dry, except for the occasional play-by-play on the various residents shown in the pictures.

“You hear he's getting a divorce?” or “You see that new Ram he just bought? That had to set him back at least fifty thousand bucks.”

But by the time they finished, they still had nada. No signs that Rigsby had gotten his accelerant at the Gas and Go. So far, the only thing they had on the guy was the stinkin' shirt. They went back to Rhys's vehicle so they could talk without Griffin overhearing them.

“Should we yank him in?” Rhys asked.

“What other option do we have?”

Rhys checked his watch. “Hopefully, he'll be home by now. Let's ride over there, feel him out a little.”

They took city streets to the highway, made the short trek outside of town, and turned up the Rigsbys' driveway. It looked like John had already started work on the fire-damaged barn. Aidan spotted a pile of debris that had been cleared away from the site and a fresh load of lumber. He gazed across the property, searching for the goats, and found them penned in a corral not far from the barn.

Rhys pulled up to the driveway and Mrs. Rigsby came through the door.

“Hello, Chief. Can I help you?” She tilted her head at the passenger's side window, catching a glimpse of Aidan.

Rhys got out of the vehicle. “Your husband home?”

“He's inside taking a nap. What's this about?”

Aidan stepped out and tipped his head in greeting to Mrs. Rigsby.