Page 34 of Nicole's Shelter

She nodded.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever chosen both literal and figurative death over me before. It’s a new low.” He sniffed at his shirt. “Is there a stench I don’t know about? I took a shower at the truck stop.”

“Stop it, you know what I mean.”

“What I know is you’re dressed like Nick Lazlo, my trainee. Which means I should put your ass to work. What I know is that I can return Nicole Livingston to the safety of the Federal Marshals at any time. Though you’ve worked damn hard in the recent hours to avoid that. What I know is you’re scared—with good reason—but I can help you.”

“Rick, that fire,” she pointed at the charred building, “was a message.”

“To you.”

“Yes, to me,” she agreed. “Last night I thought maybe I was just being paranoid, but when you add in the fire at the gang house and my name all over the news it becomes the logical conclusion.”

“One possible conclusion.” He pulled out his phone and sent a text. “Eva will steamroll her way through the red tape and get us the preliminary report on both fires as they come in. Grab your camera and let’s see what we can get from the scene. I don’t want to stay very long.”

“That’s a deal.”

“Finally.”

Ignoring the snark, she got out of the car with a smidge more enthusiasm. This place didn’t feel safe, despite the plethora of law enforcement milling about. Correction, the milling authorities meant it didn’t feel safe for her.

All of them had seen her picture, possibly taken statements from people like Mrs. Beaumont who wanted to do the right thing as a citizen and as Nicole’s friend. Would the ball cap and boy jeans be enough?

“Relax, Nick. The fire’s out.” Rick pitched his voice so only she could hear it. “Start snapping that shutter already.”

Easy for him to say, he didn’t have two government agencies and a gang looking for him.

Behind the camera, she did relax, using the limited view of the lens as a filter between the harsh reality and her emotional reactions. She recorded the damage, one angle at a time. With every shot that didn’t show that dreaded signature, her breath and heart rate settled closer to normal. She zoomed in and out, as different details caught her eye.

A discarded teddy bear near the breezeway drew her attention. Muddy and flattened by residents and firefighters, she immediately thought of the child who was missing it.

A child and family out of a home because of her. Where would they have Thanksgiving dinner? How long before they had a place to call their own again, or felt safe enough to celebrate the holidays?

“Let’s go a little closer.”

No. Closer meant more details she didn’t think she could handle. Closer meant more risk. Her feet, in Kyle’s shoes, felt like blocks of ice as she followed him.

Closer.

She heard him speaking—to her or other people, she couldn’t be sure as the words didn’t register. Keeping the camera trained on the building, she tagged along in his wake, adjusting her angle and focus, hoping she captured something that would help both of them.

They’d reached the side of the building where her apartment had been. The big oak tree in the courtyard, full of life and completely unharmed, was a sharp counterpoint to the melted, soot-covered siding of the building.

“You’re thinking this is the spot?” Rick asked.

“It fits the information coming together,” came the weary reply.

It took tremendous energy just to breathe, to loosen her grip on the camera as the answers to Rick’s many questions implicated her involvement in the blaze.

Swagger. Nick Lazlo wouldn’t care about the answers pointing to Nicole. Confidence. Nick’s life was under control. No one on either side of the law was searching for him.

Whatever story Rick had offered, the people at the scene were more than happy to cooperate with him. She should be soaking up everything possible. If she learned from his example, it could help her make adjustments as she developed her new life.

She listened more closely, realizing he was subtly telling her which pictures he wanted. Safety precautions kept them outside, but she was able to zoom in on key places. Not perfect, but it would have to do.

“Have they picked up Livingston?”

“Not that I’ve heard. The police have her picture everywhere so it’s just a matter of time before they find her. Apparently she was a firebug as a juvie.”

---