Page 5 of Playing With Fire

Before she could drill down, he cleared his throat and deftly changed the subject.

“My mom wrote me about your sister coming home to Temple Mountain,” he said awkwardly. “With her baby. It’s a shame that it didn’t work out, her and Frank.”

He gave a lopsided smile. Jodi’s heart gave a tiny, unexpected lurch.

She took a deep breath and forced a polite smile.

“Nothing like a small town for knowing everyone’s business,” she said crisply. “As you are no doubt rediscovering for yourself.”

He shrugged. “Yup.”

Jodi continued. “Frank deserves a gold star for lasting as long as he did. My sister is...high maintenance,” she said tightly. “Though Jaylee was the one who pulled the plug. Wanted to bring Isaac back home.”

Jodi stared into the bottom of her mug as though searching for helpful tea leaves. This wasn’t a topic she wanted to pursue. The effects of her sister’s dramatic marriage breakup and return to her hometown as a needy single mom were still reverberating through Jodi’s life.

Family was family, she reminded herself. Someone had to take the load.

The small table, crammed against the wall, suddenly felt intimate. They were knee-to-knee, close enough for her to observe that the eyes locked onto her face were in fact deep blue, not brown; blue like Lake Ontario on a still, twilight evening in summer. And that the tough firefighter had thick long eyelashes like a girl and a tiny scar on his chin.

“Sorry. That was clumsy. And nosy.” Ricky grinned apologetically. “I’ve gotten out of the habit of having adult conversations that don’t involve dogs or trash cans. At least I’m getting plenty of exercise. This morning I had to chase a Rottweiler through the park with my net.”

“Sorry I missed that,” murmured Jodi. She hastily reined in her over-active imagination. “I’m always looking for local interest stories with great visuals.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t even joke about it.” His eyes danced as though he could read her mind.

He leaned back and looked around curiously like Temple Mountain was an alien planet and he was expecting Scotty to beam him up real soon.

Jodi tried not to bristle.

“I’ve lost touch with most of the old gang,” he continued. “I always thought you would be a big shot in a marketing firm in Manhattan by now.”

There it was. Same old what-are-you-doing-with-your life question. At least he hadn’t mentioned wedding rings and babies.

Jodi bit back a snippy reply. She gave a frosty smile. Sipped coffee. Of course Ricky was curious. And heck, so was she.

Who was that girl?

Of course. An art student, Chrissie someone, with a taste for recreational drugs and slam poetry. And like most of their classmates, Chrissie and Ricky had headed for New York City straight from college without a backward glance.

It didn’t take a nosy journalist to figure out that the relationship hadn’t lasted.

Jodi followed Ricky’s gaze. A few yards away, young moms in gym gear steered strollers around clumps of retirees and the occasional high schooler staring at their phone like a zombie. The traffic was light, mostly utilities, SUVs, and the odd motor home.

The small Upstate New York town wasn’t quite New York City or even nearby Rochester.

Ricky looked back at her, clearly expecting an answer.

Feeling like a wizened barfly who’s been watching the world go by, Jodi briskly rattled off a few sentences. Who had knuckled down to jobs in town, who had spread their wings, who was divorced, who was a fixture at Little League.

Just as she finished, her phone started up a series of low pings. Texts from Dougie. She turned the phone over and threw her companion a bland smile.

Ricky was looking thoughtful. It was her turn to segue.

“Hatch, match, and dispatch as we say in the newspaper business,” she said briskly. “But you, Ricky Sharp. You were living the dream, working for the New York City Fire Department.”

He sat back. His expression turned vague. “Nothing much to report. I’m on extended leave. Came back to help out.”

His eyes wandered around the small space and fixed on the colorful graffiti art showing a line of old-fashioned Italian-style baristas which had transformed the old brick wall.

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