Page 11 of Scorched Secrets

“And what if that takes more than a day or two?” She couldn’t help feeling like an interloper. Especially since she didn’t have her usual twelve-hour shifts to keep her busy.

Before Colin could respond, his phone rang. She was grateful he put the call on speaker for her benefit. “Hey, Mitch. Tell me you have good news.”

“I wish I could, but Sanders is in the wind.” Mitch sounded disgruntled. “No one is home, and the one neighbor I was able to talk to said he hasn’t seen him since yesterday when he headed off to work. Apparently, the guy across the street leaves at roughly the same time each morning, and they make a point of making sure they aren’t backing their cars out of their respective driveways at the same time.”

“Have you spoken to his family? He could be staying with one of them.”

“I’m working on that. His ex-wife, Sadie, hasn’t seen him. Sounds like he wouldn’t be welcome there even if he wanted to stop by.”

No surprise there. She met Colin’s gaze, knowing he was thinking the same thing. Guys who sexually harassed women who worked for them weren’t likely to be great husband material.

Her ex hadn’t done that specifically, but she wouldn’t have put such behavior past Rory either. Rory had gotten through life on his good looks, something she should have figured out before marrying him.

“What about Faye’s ex-husband?” Colin asked.

“He wasn’t home either. I left a message with the bar where he works as a bartender. I’m hoping he gets back to me soon.”

Two dead ends, she thought grimly. Finding the arsonist was not going to be as easy as she’d hoped. She leaned forward to talk into the speaker.

“Mitch? It’s Faye. My insurance company will need a copy of your reports on the two fires as soon as you have them finished.”

“Hi, Faye, that’s not a problem. I hope to have them completed by Monday. I still need time to thoroughly investigate your house. The scene is too hot for me to do that now.”

“I understand,” she quickly assured him. “Thanks for your help.”

“Yes, keep us updated on your progress,” Colin added.

“Will do.” Mitch disconnected from the call.

They sat in silence for a moment. “How is Larry doing?” She mentally kicked herself for not asking sooner. “Should I call the hospital to see what I can find out?”

“No need.” Colin’s expression was somber. “He didn’t make it.”

“What?” She stared in horror. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Colin abruptly stood and headed into the kitchen. Numb from shock and horror, she sat there, thinking of the young man.

What if that had been Colin lying there? A shiver snaked down her spine.

She bowed her head, feeling overwhelmed with despair. No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, she knew the blame for Larry’s death rested on her shoulders.

Hers—and if Jayson Sanders was responsible, her father’s.

Colin took a moment to wrestle his emotions under control. Losing Larry had been rough. Their squad, the entire city, really, hadn’t suffered a firefighter job-related death in years. Not during his time on the job, and that was almost eight years.

Sure, they all knew and accepted the risks. But in truth, they were also well trained and experts at fighting fires and taking precautions. Fire response–related deaths were rare, far less likely than police officer deaths on the job.

And they hit especially hard when they happened close to home.

He stared blindly out the front window at the quiet neighborhood. It hurt to think of Larry losing his life, but he knew it wasn’t Faye’s fault. No matter how much she would wallow in guilt over the loss.

Blowing out a long sigh, he hoped Mitch would find the arsonist and make him pay for what he did. Arson was a felony, and a death related to an arson event could be deemed a murder.

If Sanders or Owen were responsible, he knew they’d rot in prison for the rest of their lives.

The thought eased some of his tension. He watched as a group of young kids rode their bikes past their house, likely heading to Brookland Park. Schools wouldn’t start until after September 1, and he found himself smiling a bit at the memories of how he and his siblings used to run around the neighborhood. Back when their parents were still alive.

They’d run into Faye on occasion, but she was usually sitting beneath the shade of a tree with her head in a book.

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