Heatwave. Jamie Denton
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out. Believe me, Emily. People start fires for a variety of reasons, and a huge pay-off by their insurance company to get out from under a large debt is right there at the top of the list.”
“Well, not in this case,” she retorted. “Grandy and Pop paid off the property years ago.”
“Do you know for certain she’s never mortgaged it?”
“No,” she admitted. “I don’t. Not for certain, but it’s highly unlikely. Grandy would never risk the school or her home.”
Deep down, he agreed with her. Velma Norris hardly came across as the criminal type: she appeared to be quite sharp and seemed to be a savvy businesswoman despite her advanced age. Yet, the subject still required a thorough investigation, if for no other reason than to clear her of any wrongdoing.
“Drew, would you please tell me what’s going on?”
He sat forward and braced his arms on the table. “As I said, today was the third incident. The first fire happened about two weeks ago and looked to be nothing more than a grease fire that had flared out of control in one of the classrooms. No one was hurt, but according to your grandmother, the classroom was deserted when the fire started. It looked like someone had accidentally spilled grease beneath the top of the range and it was ignited by a faulty pilot light.”
“That doesn’t make much sense,” Emily said as she began to stack their dirty dishes. “Grandy has those ranges checked by the gas company once a month to prevent something like that from happening.”
He filed that information away for later, and made a note to contact the gas company to check out the service records.
“Last week the department received a call from a neighbor who spotted smoke billowing from the back of the school. Those charred crates you noticed behind the building? They were filled with old newspapers. A lit cigarette was the cause.”
Emily stood and carried the dishes to the sink. “Grandy doesn’t smoke,” she said, turning on the tap. “Couldn’t it have just been an accident? A careless student maybe?”
Drew pushed away from the table and joined Emily at the sink. At least standing next to her he wasn’t quite as prone to sit and ogle the seductive curve of her derriere. “I might believe that if the cigarette had been tossed on the top. But this was tucked inside in a way that leads me to believe it was intentional.”
He took the dish towel Emily handed him before she sank her hands into the soapy water. “The fire today was the most obvious. Someone took the time to coat the trash bin with cooking oil then set a rag on fire and toss it inside. Your grandmother didn’t realize there was something smoldering inside the bin and when she opened it, oxygen fed the flames. She could’ve been seriously injured.”
Emily glanced up and handed him a plate to dry. “All of which should eliminate her as a suspect, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “Unless she’s the one responsible.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Off the record, I have my doubts.”
“Doubts?” Her expression said loud and clear what she thought of his doubts. “Whatever happened to common sense?”
He set the dried plate on the counter, then lifted another from the drain board. “Every possibility has to be considered, Emily. She refuses to close the school despite my recommendation to do so. Someone is setting these fires, and until the firebug is apprehended, no one is above suspicion. Not even your grandmother.”
She let out another little breath and shifted her attention back to washing dishes. “I just can’t imagine who would do such a thing. Or why, for that matter. Grandy has to be one of the most generous, kindest people on the planet. Why would anyone want to hurt her?”
Any number of reasons, he thought to himself. Firebugs didn’t do things that made sense in the logical scheme of things, except in their own twisted minds where their actions were justified. So far only Velma had been present on the property when the fires started.
For obvious reasons, he didn’t like the idea of Emily and her grandmother staying alone with an arsonist on the loose, if Velma wasn’t the one responsible. He couldn’t very well move in with them until the culprit was apprehended. Besides, he didn’t get involved. Period. Saving damsels in distress had been Cale’s gig until Amanda had come into his life. Just because he had retired his white charger, didn’t mean it was Drew’s job to pick up where Cale had left off. Not a chance. Drew was only staying the night because he’d been rendered temporarily insane.
Emily drained the sink and started putting the dishes he’d dried into the cabinets.
He crossed his ankles and leaned against the counter, enjoying the delectable view of her backside. “Mind if I ask how long you’re planning to visit?” he asked her.
She drew in a deep breath, effectively drawing his gaze to the rise and fall of her breasts. Her very full breasts.
“Initially, only one month.” After closing the cabinet, she turned to look at him. “Suddenly I find myself in not much of a hurry to return to New York.”
He nodded slowly, struggling to ignore the itch in his palms to feel the weight of her breasts against his hand. “The corporate downsizing?”
She braced her hands behind her and leaned against the gleaming countertop. “For starters. I think there’s a black cloud following me around.”
He chuckled when she wrinkled her nose in that cute way of hers. “It can’t be all that bad.”
A wry, self-deprecating grin curved her lips. “It’s a good thing I have a sense of humor because I definitely hit the double trifecta today. Not only am I out of a job, I got dumped—at the airport of all places—and since I gave up my rent-controlled apartment six months ago to move in with my now ex, I’m out of my home.”
She folded the dish towel and draped it over the drain board. “If that’s not enough to heap on one person within twenty-four hours,” she continued, “I also discover I’m going to have a baby, my grandmother’s in the hospital and now you’re telling me that someone is trying to burn down her life’s work.” She shook her head and managed a short burst of laughter that held little humor. “I’m almost afraid to ask, what’s next?”
He wondered if she had any idea how her eyes brightened when she laughed. Or how his gut just tightened with need at her announcement that there was no longer a man in her life. Which could very well be a temporary situation for all he knew. Besides, once she told the guy about the baby, in Drew’s opinion, there was a pretty strong chance the guy would be back in her life again, provided he had any sense of responsibility.
“Wanna talk about it?” He resisted the ridiculous need to look out the kitchen window to see if a white steed was grazing nearby.
“And spread around my doom and gloom? Thanks, but no thanks.” She pushed off the counter. “I’ve had about as much as I can stand for one day.”
He flipped off the light switch and followed her out of the kitchen into the living room. “It’s not healthy to keep things inside.”
He’d bet his trust fund he’d just heard the clank of armor.
She sat in a wooden rocking chair near the fireplace and looked up at him. Curiosity filled her eyes. “Why are you being so nice to me? You don’t even know me. Obviously you’re not short on dates, so it’s not as if you’re hard up for female companionship.”
He winced at the reminder of his overloaded voice-mail box. No answer—at least none he cared to admit—sprang to mind.
He shrugged, then took a seat on the sofa. “I made a promise,” he answered evasively. Not exactly the truth, but he sure didn’t want to tell her that, in his opinion, she far outranked those other women on the intelligence scale. And then, of course, he did enjoy her sense of humor. Better yet, she didn’t appear to want