Page 30 of Scorched Secrets

They were safe. At least for now.

But she couldn’t help feeling as if this peaceful interlude was nothing more than the calm before the storm.

Needing space, and a cool head, Colin walked around the property. He wasn’t worried that the arsonist was lurking nearby, but sitting next to Faye with her wildflower scent wafting toward him made him want to kiss her again.

Even imagining her fire chief father standing over them wasn’t enough to shake the temptation. Man, he had it bad. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong—everything.

Faye was in danger from some jerk who not only thought it was fun to start fires, but whose desire for revenge or retribution was escalating rapidly. Colin needed to keep his head screwed on straight.

No more kissing Faye.

He found himself repeating that mantra as he searched the grove of trees behind the building. Maybe if he said the words often enough, he’d find the strength and willpower to heed them.

He didn’t find anything suspicious in the woods or around the motel. He walked to the front and used his key to head inside. Faye was in her room, hopefully getting some rest, so he decided to take a shower. A cold one.

When he emerged fifteen minutes later, he saw a missed call from his brother Rhy. Grabbing the phone, he called him back. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What’s this about a Molotov cocktail?” Rhy demanded. “And why am I hearing that from Miles Callahan rather than you?”

Figures the Callahan grapevine worked just as quickly as their Finnegan one. Miles was an MPD detective as well as being Mitch’s brother. Miles must have heard the news from Tarin. “I didn’t want to bother you. We’re fine. Mitch is doing his part.”

“I don’t like it,” Rhy muttered. “This guy is out of control.”

Since he agreed, there was no point in arguing. “We’re staying off-grid, Rhy. In a no-name motel room paid for with cash. No need for you to worry.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t help it. You’re not a cop. If this guy escalates from fires to bullets...”

“I’ll handle it.” He didn’t appreciate his brother’s dig about his not being a cop. “And he hasn’t resorted to bullets yet.”

“How are you going to stop him if you find him?” Rhy demanded. “Especially if he happens to be carrying?”

To be fair, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. Not that he’d give Rhy the satisfaction of hearing that. “Mitch will be here soon with a computer so we can dig into some possible suspects. And Mitch is armed.”

“I should have given you a weapon when you were here at the homestead,” Rhy grumbled. “You know we have a couple of handguns and ammo in the safe.”

Yeah, he knew that, but he hadn’t thought of grabbing one. He knew how to shoot; his older siblings had made sure of that. He’d been to the firing range often enough over the years. As much as he hated to admit it, Kyleigh had been a better shot than he was by a mile. Watching her nailing the center of her target only made him realize his choice to become a firefighter and paramedic had been the right one. He hated to admit he wouldn’t have made it as a cop. “Have faith, Rhy. We’ll be fine.”

“You’d better be fine.” It was a comical threat. “I don’t want to hear about you or Faye being hurt, understand?”

“I’ll do my best.” His older siblings had all been in danger over the past few months, and it made him wonder if Rhy had threatened them the same way. Even Rhy himself had put his life on the line to protect Devon. It was a little strange that Colin was in the center of danger now, despite his job not being involved in law enforcement.

“Keep me updated, Colin. No more hearing about dangerous situations through the family grapevine.”

“That’s the plan.” He shook his head at how his brother still played the role of their father, even ten years later. Since he’d appreciated what Rhy and Tarin had given up to hold things together, he let it go. “Later.”

“Any news?” Faye asked from the doorway.

“Not yet.” He gestured for her to come inside. “I was hoping you were getting some sleep.”

“Better to stay up in case we actually get to sleep tonight.” She offered a half smile. “I’m on days next week, so it would be nice to get back on a normal sleeping schedule.”

“I know how you feel. If we have a rough night, I try to stay awake as long as possible the next day.” He ran his fingers through his damp hair, hoping and praying the arsonist was caught by Monday morning. “Switching from nights to days back to nights again is tough.”

“Part of the job.” She sank down on the edge of the bed. “I’m not used to being idle. Normally I’d be working on all the chores I’d neglected while working five shifts straight. This sitting around is driving me batty.”

“I hear you.” He sat in the chair. “This isn’t usual for me either.”

“You live alone?” she asked.

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