Fire Angel (27 page)

“One of the firemen grabbed your kit, so we have all your notes and your samples.”

Jake explained everything that had happened. He showed her the forensic reports, including the new evidence collected from Providence House and the analysis of what she'd collected at the house before the roof had tumbled in.

“Funny how you were bringing in coffee,” she said. “Could that be how he roofied the kitchen staff at the shelter? I'll bet lots of people brought in coffee every day, and some of it would have been in Styrofoam cups. The other possibility that occurred to me was putting it in the food, but I don't know if heat affects it.”

“Could be coffee; it would be simple enough to do, and its taste would mask the aftertaste of the drug. As far as food goes, there must be stuff that isn't cooked? Cold soups, pudding, salad — stuff like that. By the way, unless something in your notebook helps, we're out of suspects.”

He told her how Andrew Shillingham had been cleared of any possible involvement. Finally, he explained how she had come to be at the clinic.

“He meant to kill you, you know.” He handed her the third note. “It came with a dozen black roses and a vanilla scented, angel-shaped, soy candle. I had to do something, and you couldn't be awakened yet, so I spoke to David and your uncle, we orchestrated the charade. By pretending you had died and moving you out of the hospital, we may have saved not just your life but hundreds of others.”

She scanned the note, scowled, and then put it down beside her on the bed. There was something about it that had the shadow on the edge of her mind clamoring for attention. Frustrated, she moved on to another topic.

“The candle must be similar if not the same as the ones he's used. It is part of his ritual, but not part of the fire. He lit them separately, like an offering. Black roses are rare and expensive. Have you traced them or the candles?”

“The roses were ordered in Ottawa and paid for in cash. The flower shop had video surveillance, but our guy knew it was there. He wore sunglasses, a trench coat and a hat. All that we can say for sure is that he's about five foot ten. He never even took off his gloves. We haven't got a lead on the candles yet, but tests show that they're made of identical material. Everything except the note is at the lab. If you want roses, I'll send you dozens of red ones.”

Alexis blushed. Red roses were for love.

“Maybe one dozen,” she said. “I love the smell of roses.”

“You'll have them in the morning,” he promised.

Alexis tried to calm her emotions. What she wanted was to be taken into his arms and held. Instead, she focused on the topic at hand.

“So, now everyone thinks that I'm dead? How can that be? David said he'd bring Mila to see me.”

“To the world at large, you're dead. We even put an obituary in the paper. Captain Peters came up and claimed your body. He left another fire investigator, a guy named Scott Evers to help us work the case. That was the only way we could be sure that you would be safe.”

“Scott's an excellent investigator,” she said. “If I'm dead, how do you explain our presence here at the clinic?”

“We're not actually in the clinic building. We're in your uncle's cottage. David's plane arrived the morning before I had to move you, so everyone thinks that he has taken his family on a vacation. Everett is the only one on the outside who knows the truth. As far as anyone else is concerned, I've gone to Toronto to recuperate from my injuries and mend my broken heart. The staff is looking after the inn. After the elders left, it was pretty much empty.”

She looked at him, tears shimmering in her eyes. This was the time for truth.

“I'm sorry for being so distant. I thought you were still in love with Irena; I thought there was no chance for me. I didn't know David and Minette were engaged and … ”

The look on his face would have made her laugh if laughing hadn't been so painful.

“Say something,” she whispered.

He was stunned. “I don't know where to start. About Minette and David, I thought Mila had told you; she was always talking about her ‘almost daddy,' and how she'd have a daddy soon,” he said. Comprehension dawned. “You thought she meant me! Why on Earth would you think that?”

“Well, you spoke so highly of Minette, and she was always looking out for you. I saw you kiss and hug Minette that night.”

Jake shook his head, “Yeah, I guess to someone who didn't know us, it could have looked that way. Minette is French Canadian and very demonstrative.” He moved to the edge of the chair; this was not going to be easy for him, but it had to be done.

“I should have told you about Irena that night you found the picture, but discussing her and Afghanistan is hard for me and I avoided it. I was wrong; you deserve to know it all. Come here.”

He pulled her into his arms and onto his lap; she came willingly. The warmth of her presence gave him the courage he needed to speak.

“All these years, I've blamed myself for what happened over there. Six men died because of me, including Andre, who'd been my best friend. Irena's father saw me as a pipeline to information and medical supplies. He was the leader of a deep-cover band of insurgents. He used Irena to get to me; she was his pawn, totally brainwashed to the cause; she was exotic, and I was lonely and flattered. One thing led to another, and her brother Ali caught me kissing her. He threatened to kill her if I didn't marry her; he said I had damaged the family honor.” He shook his head.

Alexis covered his hand with her free one, holding his between both of hers. “What happened next? I take it you married her; I saw the picture.”

“I was besotted and felt guilty. Nothing had happened, but I couldn't let them hurt her, so I went to the base commander; her father had him fooled too, and the commander saw this marriage as something that might heal cultures. We had a private Muslim wedding, but I don't think it was even a legal one; I think it, too, was orchestrated. It was all in Pashto, and I didn't understand any of it. I'd sent home for the family ring, the one you saw, but she said she couldn't wear it; it would make her a target for the dissidents. Instead, she wore a plain silver band that her dad provided.” He cleared his throat before continuing. She needed to hear it all no matter how foolish it made him look.

“On our wedding night, I learned that she'd been married before, to an Afghani who'd been killed in the fighting — another reason why she probably hated us, I suppose. I didn't see it that way at the time. She moved onto the base, but she was lonely, missed her family, so I got her younger brother a job as an orderly in the hospital. When stuff started to go missing either during or after his shifts, I got suspicious and had him followed.”

He took a sip of water, bracing himself to tell the worst part of his story. Alexis seemed to understand and snuggled closer.

“Irena begged me not to turn him in. I told her that he had until I got back from Kabul to explain, and he'd better be packed to leave. We argued and I stormed out of the house. I spent the night in David's quarters getting drunk. The next morning, I took three trucks and half a dozen men, including Andre, with me to Kabul to pick up supplies. The bombs were planted along our return route. I'd left the papers on the table in our quarters; I didn't think she'd sell me out. David said she packed a bag and left about an hour after I did. She told the guards she was going to visit her grandmother and would be back in a couple of days. When I survived the attack, she was out of options; she strapped a bomb to her chest and went into a café. When the bomb went off, she took a dozen others with her.”

“Oh Jake, I'm so sorry, but don't you see? It wasn't your fault, any more than it was your fault that roof dropped on me.” She took his face in her hands. “They used you; she used you.”

“Part of me understands that, but another part blames me for being so gullible,” he said, and pulled her against him. “So, now you know the truth. I never loved her, and I wish I'd never met her, let alone married her. Does that make a difference to you — to us?”

“Yes, it matters a lot,” she replied. “I want to be with you, to be a part of your life beyond the case, but I'm selfish; I want the whole package.” She kissed him tenderly.

Jake relaxed for the first time in days, and it seemed as if a heavy load had been taken off his shoulders. He leaned in and kissed her again, thrilled to feel her response, wanting to pour all of his love and need into the kiss, but this was not the time. He drew back and smiled.

“Remind me to drop a house on you more often; it seems to smarten you,” he said.

She laughed and punched his shoulder. “I don't think so!”

His face turned serious. He took her hand in his and kissed her palm. He felt the goose bumps that coursed down her arms.

“Alexis, the only person who didn't know I was crazy about you sixteen years ago was you, and it seems you're the only one who doesn't know it now.”

“Well, what can I say? I told you I have a habit of jumping to the wrong conclusions.” She yawned and winced at the stab of pain the movement caused.

Jake pushed her up and onto the bed.

“Come on; into bed with you. We can talk again later. Now, close your eyes and rest. I'll be right here; I won't leave you.” He pushed himself up using the arms of the chair and kissed her gently.

She smiled and closed her eyes.

Jake watched her sleep, a contented smile on his face. Maybe things would work out for them after all. The door opened and David walked in. He nodded, motioned for Jake to follow him, and then closed the door. Jake grabbed his crutches and reluctantly did as he was asked.

“What's up?” he asked.

David handed him an envelope.

“Everett wanted you to have this as soon as possible.”

Jake tore open the envelope. It was the lab report from Orillia confirming that the DNA on the shirt and cigarette butts all belonged to the same individual — a male whose profile also matched a couple of six-year old cold cases in the Sarnia area. As well, there was a note for Alexis simply stating that a Miriam Francis had died of cancer nine years ago. Who was Miriam Francis?

• • •

When Alexis woke the following morning, the headache was a dull pain, more than bearable, and she was starving. Jake slept in the chair beside her bed. She sat up gingerly and leaned towards him.

“Wake up, sleepy head,” she called softly and was rewarded with a loving look from those deep blue eyes.

He smiled, “Hi; how's the head?”

“Better. I'm starving. What do you do for room service in this joint?”

He laughed. “You send your lackey, which would be me. I'll be right back.”

He took up the crutches and moved quickly to do her bidding.

She got up and walked to the bathroom, pleased that her feet were solid under her this morning. Someone had brought in clean towels and a pair of her own pajamas. Apparently, the captain hadn't taken all of her things back to San Francisco.

Minette had said that she could shower and wash her hair, which she did. When she left the bathroom, tired but pleased with herself, Jake and a breakfast tray were waiting for her.

“I brought you poached eggs and toast and some fresh berries as well as coffee, sweetened and creamed just the way you like it,” he said. He still stood, leaning on the bed for support. “Come to me; I need you in my arms.”

Alexis walked up to him, put her arms around his neck and kissed him gently. His lips were warm and as the kiss deepened, she felt heat building inside her. He held her tightly to him, and his arousal made her flame even brighter. Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled away. She wanted more, but knew that this was neither the time nor the place.

“I need to get cleaned up,” he said before dropping a second light kiss on her mouth.

“Eat; when I come back, I'll be a new man. Oh, by the way, Everett sent in some reports last night. You might want to look at them. There's something in them about a Miriam Francis. See you in a bit.” He closed the door behind him.

She looked over the reports — the DNA and unsolved murders in Sarnia triggered a memory, but it was the message about Miriam Francis that had everything crashing into place. She knew who the killer was. Now, how could she prove it and stop him before the next fire? Most of the evidence was supposition and circumstance, and Jake had already crossed him off the list of suspects. The killer had covered his tracks well.

The minute Jake opened the door to her room, Alexis jumped out if bed and ran to him.

“You're walking on your own again,” she cried and threw herself at him. “It's Frank. The killer is Frank.”

“Frank, why on Earth do you think it's Frank?” asked Jake folding his arms around her.

“I remember him now; he was heavier back then, with that long, stringy hair. The last day I was in Paradise, someone had put a dead frog in my lunch bag. I was sure it was Frank. When I accused him of it, he smiled and said ‘Prove it.' It's him; I know it is … the way he's been baiting me with memories, the chocolates — playing me like a cat with a mouse. The note, the wording; it all fits. The notes? He might as well have signed them — Fire Angel, Frank Arthur.”

She moved out of his arms and paced the room in her agitation. Jake listened attentively.

“James's favorite expression was ‘Strike three, you're out.' And Lexy-Wexy; it was a pet name James gave me; the first time I heard it was the day someone put a dead mouse in my boot. The last time was the night I ran away.”

Jake opened his arms and she walked into them. He folded them around her as she let the memories of that night wash over her again.

“You know the aunt his mother is visiting? Well, according to records, she's been dead for nine years.”

“Maybe it's another aunt,” said Jake holding her tightly, loathe to believe that he could have been played for a fool again, but sadly the inconsistencies that had been plaguing him were all falling into place.