Devil's Night (26 page)

“The bad man,” James said.

Larry smiled. “Yes, the bad man. Are you sure you didn’t see his face? Not even a tiny bit?”

They had been through this once before. While waiting in the Crown Vic, James had spotted a figure fleeing the scene of the fire, but it was only for a second. The man had been running along the side of the building, and by the time James noticed him, he was already disappearing around the corner. Once James saw smoke pouring out of the door, he realized something was wrong and left the car against Kat’s orders.

For that, Kat couldn’t have been more proud. She gave James a squeeze, making him wriggle in her grip. She could tell he didn’t like being coddled this way, especially in front of a stranger, but she refused to let him go.

“I didn’t see anything,” James answered. “Just his clothes.”

Larry looked to Kat hopefully. “And you?”

“Same thing,” she said. “All I caught was a hand, which doesn’t matter because he was wearing gloves. I’m assuming Henry told you the same thing.”

“He did,” Larry replied. “Unfortunately.”

“So we still have nothing.”

“That’s about right. I don’t understand this guy. I mean, why set fire to a swimming pool, of all things? Why not the building itself? It makes no sense.”

It did to Kat. She understood the arsonist’s intentions perfectly.

“Because the building is worthless,” she said. “That pool, however, is historic. Not to mention irreplaceable. He’s trying to do the most damage.”

Outside, a crowd had gathered. They streamed past the open door of the ambulance on their way to the arsonist’s latest target. This time, at least, the town had been lucky. Other than smoke damage and a very messy swimming pool, Perry Hollow’s rec center remained mostly unscathed.

One of the people arriving at the scene was Lou van Sickle, who climbed into the ambulance. She carried a plastic bag that bulged at the sides. Clean clothes for Kat.

“Here you go,” she said. “By the way, word on the street is that you and Henry Goll decided to go skinny-dipping. Got so hot it set the pool on fire.”

Kat laughed in spite of herself. “That’s not quite how it went.”

But it was close enough. Kat’s face reddened as she thought about what she and Henry had done in the pool before James saved them. It meant nothing, of course. They had both been terrified and desperate, unable to express their emotions in words. Now that they had survived, she didn’t want to talk about it. Not with Lou and certainly not with Henry. Kat was grateful that he had been ushered to his own ambulance, where he was no doubt being examined by paramedics just as she had been. It spared them from having to see each other, if only for a little bit.

When Lou handed her the bag of clothes, Kat opened it and sniffed. They smelled gloriously free of smoke. She couldn’t wait to put them on.

“Now I think it’s time to take our hero out to dinner,” Lou said, taking James’s hand. “How does the Perry Hollow Diner sound? You deserve a milk shake for your good deed.”

Kat, keeping hold of her son, whispered in his ear, “I’m so proud of you, Little Bear. Go and have fun with Lou.”

“You’re not coming with us?”

The look James gave her—apprehensive and disappointed—split her heart in two. He knew he had come close to losing her that afternoon. Now he didn’t want to let her out of his sight.

“I still have work to do,” Kat told him. “The bad man is still out there and I need to find him.”

She gave him one final squeeze, as tight as her tired arms could muster, and watched him be reluctantly led away by Lou. Larry Sheldon also departed, saying he’d be inside the rec center if she needed him.

Alone in the back of the ambulance, Kat collapsed backward onto the stretcher. Exhaustion numbed every part of her body. She needed sleep. She craved it so badly it hurt. But she couldn’t sleep. Not yet. A fact that made her want to cry.

And that’s exactly what she did. Lying on her back, she let the tears flow. The warm drops slipped over her temples and into her already damp hair as sobs racked her body. In that moment, she didn’t care about the fires or Constance Bishop or those poor women murdered long ago. She only cared about what they were doing to her body, her brain, her sanity. She was on the cusp of giving up. Of just curling into a ball and sleeping until Gloria Ambrose swooped in and took over. It would be so easy to just shut her tear-reddened eyes and let sleep overwhelm her.

But then she thought of James and how close he had been to becoming motherless. She thought of Constance, slumped over that trunk, head bashed in. And she thought of Rebecca Bradford and her cluster of sisters—innocent women who died, horribly, for no reason.

She had to keep going, no matter how exhausted she was. For their sake.

So Kat forced herself to sit up. She smacked her face twice, once on each cheek. When that didn’t work, she reached under her arm, pinching a bit of skin just below her armpit. It hurt. A lot. But the pain jolted her awake. She did it again, this time with the other arm. It did the trick. She was ready to get going again.

Quickly, she changed into her uniform before stepping out of the ambulance. The crowd, she saw, was still milling about the rec center. A large group stood near the door, talking among themselves and trying to peer into the smoky building.

Standing away from them was Mayor Burt Hammond. He stared at the building in disbelief, his hands on his head. The town had been dealt another blow, and the mayor looked to be physically feeling its effects. If a light breeze had knocked him over, Kat wouldn’t have been surprised.

She approached him slowly. “I’m sorry about the Halloween Festival. I know you worked really hard.”

“Forget the festival,” Burt said. “I’m worried about the town. Three fires in one day. All of them vital pieces of Perry Hollow’s history. What the hell is going on?”

“We have a motive. We have a suspect. Everyone is looking for him. If he’s still around, we’ll find him.”

“Of course he’s still around.” Burt jerked his head in the direction of the rec center. “Otherwise,
that
wouldn’t have happened.”

Kat couldn’t believe the change in the mayor’s voice. It was tinged with accusation, like he was blaming her for what was happening.

“We’re doing everything we can,” she said.

“Well, you need to do more,” Burt snapped. “People are scared, Kat. I hear them talking. Everyone’s worried their house might be the next thing to go up in flames. There’s even talk of forming a militia.”

“Wait—forming a
what
?”

“You heard me,” Burt said. “Mob rule. People on the streets with guns.”

Kat wanted to cover her ears. She knew the town was scared. She just didn’t know it was this bad. She pictured crowds of people marching down Main Street, hunting rifles at the ready. It’s probably how the men of the village had approached Rebecca Bradford’s homestead.

“That’s a bad idea,” she said. “Really bad.”

“That’s what it’ll come to, unless you stop it.”

Beyond Burt, a patrol car just like her own pulled up to the curb, Deputy Carl Bauersox behind the wheel. He spotted her as soon as he got out of the car and beckoned with a wave of his hand. Finally, a reason to escape the mayor’s wrath.

“I understand, Burt,” Kat said as calmly as she could. “And I promise you that I’ll catch this guy. I just need a little more time.”

The mayor couldn’t resist one parting shot. “We’re all out of time, Chief.”

He turned and started to trudge toward the rec center. Kat went in the opposite direction, heading to Carl’s patrol car.

“Is it true you were skinny-dipping with Henry Goll?” the deputy asked once she reached him.

“If I say yes, will you tell me there’s a break in the case?”

“Potentially,” Carl said. “I finished looking into the backgrounds of all the volunteer firefighters. It was hard because some of them didn’t grow up here and I had to call other departments to look through their records, too.”

Kat nodded while gesturing for Carl to speed things up.

“Anyway,” he said, now talking faster, “the last of them just got back to me. Dutch Jansen is all clear, just like I knew he would be. Most of the other squad members check out, too. Some of them have a few misdemeanors. Traffic tickets. Bar fights. That sort of thing.”

“Carl.” Kat grabbed the deputy’s shoulders in frustration. “Just tell me what you found.”

“One of them was arrested for arson when he was a teenager,” he said. “Quite a few times. He set his family’s shed on fire. Then a neighbor’s garage. Finally, an abandoned house a few blocks away. Burned the whole thing to the ground and spent a few months in juvie because of it.”

Kat already knew who he was talking about. It was the same person who had been acting strangely during the Chamber of Commerce fund-raiser the night before. The same guy who hadn’t bothered to show up to work that morning.

“Chief,” Carl said, even though he didn’t need to. “It’s Danny Batallas.”

*

Henry woke up gasping. He had fallen asleep in the back of the ambulance, dreaming that he was still underwater and unable to take in air. And even though he was now awake, he continued to feel damp and breathless, almost as if he was still submerged.

He sat up and wiped his brow. His face was slick with sweat. That explained the damp part. Looking around, he saw that the ambulance doors had been closed for privacy, creating a sterile darkness. The two windows offered little additional light. Just twin squares of brightness that faded with each passing moment. Outside, dusk was falling.

Behind him, the voice of a woman broke through the darkness. “You were having a bad dream.”

The presence of someone else in the ambulance didn’t startle Henry. Even in sleep, he must have known he was not alone.

“Kat?” he said.

“No.”

Henry rolled over on the stretcher that had been his temporary bed. He got on his hands and knees before flipping into a sitting position. Now he could finally see the other person in the ambulance.

“How are you feeling?” Deana Swan asked.

“I’ve been better.”

“You look okay. A little tired. That’s why I let you sleep.”

She offered him a half-smile. Her eyes, bright even in the dim ambulance, contained a sad weariness. “You stood me up today. I honestly thought you’d come.”

“I’m sorry.” Henry mopped his brow again. It was stifling in there. “Things happened.”

“The fire at the Sleepy Hollow Inn,” Deana said. “I know. I heard all about it. And then when I got word that you were in the fire at the rec center, I knew I had to see you, even if you didn’t want to see me.”

Henry wished it was that simple, but his feelings for Deana were a writhing mass of conflicting emotions. He wanted to see her and avoid her in equal measure. Being alone with her again, he felt the urge to both embrace her and run away. Instead, he stayed where he was, motionless.

“It’s good to see you, Henry,” Deana said. “I’m not sure I told you that.”

“Why are you here, Deana?”

“I just want an hour of your time. That’s all. After that, you don’t ever have to see me again if you don’t want to. I’ll completely understand.”

Henry couldn’t summon the will to resist. Considering that he had almost died twice that day, spending sixty minutes with Deana Swan wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Besides, it felt good to be alone with her again, talking soft and close the way they used to. It was just like old times.

Almost.

“Fine,” Henry said. “Let’s talk.”

Deana’s face brightened, making her look as pretty as the day Henry first saw her. “I have a better idea,” she said. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Henry threw open the ambulance doors, startling an EMT drinking coffee right outside. He apologized and thanked him for giving him a chance to rest before helping Deana hop to the ground. Side by side, they crossed in front of the rec center—now lit up with klieg lights and crawling with crime scene techs. Once on the sidewalk, Deana steered them to the right. Henry didn’t need to ask where they were going. He knew she was guiding him to her house. Once again, he didn’t resist.

Neither of them spoke as they walked. There was so much to say that they didn’t have the first clue where to begin. Henry wanted to tell Deana that he had thought of her often during the past year. Dreamed of her even, in nighttime reveries so vivid he could have sworn she had been lying next to him. But he knew that might give her a false sense of hope, make her think there was a chance they could go back to the way things were a year ago. That, Henry told himself, wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t. So he remained silent.

As they navigated the streets of Perry Hollow, it dawned on Henry that the town was too quiet for a Saturday night. While the town was never what you’d call bustling, there was usually some activity taking place there. Teenagers looking for trouble. Adults looking for ways to forget theirs. Bursts of laughter from front porches or open windows.

That evening, there was nothing. The few people they did pass looked watchful and worried, eyeing Henry’s scars with suspicious, sidelong glances. He easily ignored them. Back in Perry Hollow for less than a day, he was again accustomed to the way people in town stared.

“I hear you’re helping Chief Campbell with all the fires going on,” Deana said, her voice full of forced cheer. “I bet that’s exciting.”

“I’m not really helping,” Henry replied. “More like looking out for her.”

And making out with her inside a fiery swimming pool. It was still too soon to be able to wrap his head around that particular development. All he knew is that it would certainly make for some awkwardness once he saw her again.

“I was real sad to hear about what happened to Constance Bishop,” Deana said. “She was a nice woman.”

A couple in their fifties, holding hands and laughing like people half their age, grew suddenly stone-faced as they passed. Deana, shrinking from their glares, began to talk faster.

“I saw her a lot at the library. She was always researching something. Always made a point to say hello when she saw me.”

“How do you like working at the library?” Henry asked.