Page 32 of Playing With Fire

Both men rolled back their shoulders reflexively and lifted their chins like street fighters. Outraged as she was, Jodi repressed a sigh.

Silas strode away into the darkening night. Jodi was left staring at Ricky.

“You can’t simply...” she began. She fell silent at his cold, forbidding expression. His face might have been carved from granite. The easy-going, what-would-it-be-like-to-kiss-him, charming guy had vanished.

“Don’t be so quick to judge, Jodi. You have no idea what I was talking about, and those two feral lads...”

“Josh and Judah are not feral,” replied Jodi hotly. She knew she would have time later to mentally flagellate herself for her girlish romantic dreams. It would be time well-spent, she promised herself.

She composed herself. Her voice was flat.

“Have you forgotten that the twins were taken away from a terrible, abusive situation...God, their father is an awful man...and then you waltz into town and start accusing them of...whatever.”

She ran out of steam. The chilly space inside her chest had expanded, and it was nothing to do with the sudden drop in temperature. An icy breeze trickled down her unprotected neck, and she hugged her arms across her chest.

“Thanks for the reminder.” He spoke evenly. “I hadn’t forgotten, as it turns out. That’s one of the reasons why Joshua and Judah are on my radar.”

Revelation hit Jodi in the gut with the force of a fully loaded deep-dish lasagna.

(Lasagna. Traitorous home-cooked cheesy lasagna, luring her into intimacies and fantasies when she ought to know better...)

“You think those children are the firebug! How could you?” Her tone was squeaky with outrage.

Ricky remained unmoved. He cocked his head and viewed her with a detached calmness which was itself deeply infuriating.

“By following up on some excellent intelligence and asking pointed questions. Or attempting to ask them. Not one, but two people saw a couple of teens hanging around just before the fire near the basketball courts. And those boys are hiding something.”

He moved closer. His eyes were deep, dark, and unfriendly. “This is my job, Jodi. Trying to catch the bastards who are doing this because if I don’t, the next time or maybe the time following that, a live ember will find its way into the school or maybe the church or perhaps someone’s home. And people will die.”

Jodi swallowed. She clamped her jaw tight to stop the trembling.

But Ricky wasn’t done. In the darkness his face was a series of hard, unforgiving angles. His breath grew loud, ragged. As his eyes bored into hers, Jodi knew he was seeing something she couldn’t.

“And when it happens, Jodi, someone’s got to run into that inferno, put their own life and that of their buddies on the line, and deal with all that shit. And it ain’t some do-gooder preacher or head-in-the-clouds journalist who thinks she can tell you how to do your job!”

His voice faltered, and she glimpsed a flash of anguish cross his face.

Silence fell, as though even the distant cars and the faint sounds of voices in the kitchen had quietened to hear what was barely a whisper.

“You do it because it’s your job. And sometimes it rips out the very heart of you.”

Jodi let out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Of its own accord, her body leaned towards him, driven by some deep instinct to comfort...

“Hey Jodi!” The back door banged open. One of the retired men who were stalwarts of the free dinners. Alma peered around him. “You coming back to the rectory? Hattie’s got cake...”

Jodi forced her voice to work.

“I’m just coming Harvey. Alma, honey, you should be back in the rectory!”

She turned to Ricky.

The light streaming from the door threw his tall frame into shadow. Now he seemed like the stranger that he was. A newcomer, breezing back into Temple Mountain like the town ought to be grateful.

He shook his head. “I need to get home anyway,” he said. “And I could do with the walk.”

He turned away, and Jodi felt the fragile link between them begin to tear, like a sharp pain that tugs at the ribs.

She opened her mouth to tell him not to leave, that she was sorry she’d gone off half-cocked, but they were only kids and traumatized kids...

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