Page 8 of Burn for You

“We only just arrived. There was no way Beck called you that fast. He would have waited until everything was settled before notifying you.”

Marlee bit her lower lip and glanced away.

“I…may have purchased a police scanner.”

I groaned and scrubbed a hand through my hair.

“Jesus, Marlee.”

“I wanted information—” she protested.

“Then let us do our jobs,” I cut in. “Interfering with firefighters and police will only slow us down. We will tell you what we can when we have something for you. Otherwise, chasing after fires could get you hurt.”

Marlee blinked at me, wide-eyed. For a split second, she had nothing to say. Then that sharp tongue of hers came into play again.

“I won’t do anything stupid.”

“Then go back to your office where it’s safe,” I replied.

“But—”

“Marlee,” I bit out, harsher than I’d intended.

She snapped her mouth shut and squared her shoulders with indignation.

“There’s a very good chance this arsonist is targeting your agency, or you,” I said in a more even tone this time. “Please, stay in your office until we have more concrete proof that you’re not in danger right now.”

Marlee’s stubbornness faltered as the seriousness of the situation began to sink in.

“Well, what if there was something I could do to help?”

“Like what?”

She spread her hands, glancing around for something to latch onto.

“I could…talk to people. Maybe they saw someone.”

I huffed.

“You’re not a local small town girl, sweetheart, and it shows. People are loyal to the bone in Romeo. They’ll clam up as soon as they see you coming. Everything about you screams city slicker.” I paused then arched an eyebrow with a wry look. “Besides, I’ve seen your people skills in action first hand. If you make friends with other people the way you make friends with me, no one will breathe a word to you. Selling houses is a different ball game than buttering up your neighbors in the hopes they’ll spill the beans and that’s not a skill you have.”

Marlee opened her mouth to protest but I chuckled and backed away, tugging my mask on again.

“Like I said,” I added. “Go back to the office. We’ll fill you in later.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were worried about me,” Marlee called. “I can take care of myself!”

“I’m sure you can,” I muttered under my breath.

Three hours later, the fire had been successfully put out. The interior of the house was blackened, with scorch marks climbing the walls. Lieutenant Hardy, Mueller, and I probed the walls, the ceiling, and the floors, searching for hot spots.

“Doesn’t look like anyone was living here,” Lieutenant Hardy said, casting a significant look in my direction.

Two vacant house fires in the span of one week, sold by the same real estate office, was a coincidence that didn’t sit well in my gut. Even if Marlee wasn’t targeted, her pride could easily get her to stumble into trouble before she realized where she was going.

I shook my head as I tested my weight on the stairs that led to the second floor. If my crew could hear me now, entertaining these thoughts about a woman I just met, their relentless teasing would never end.

The second floor was empty—no signs of anyone starting a fire intentionally up here.

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