Firestorm (2 page)

“I like playing cards, and I couldn't be happier with anyone than I am with you. Even though you are all sore losers.” She put the onions in the pan with the melted butter to sauté and started cleaning the mushrooms. “And you'd all become stodgy and boring if I didn't keep you on your toes.”

“Well, you certainly do that.” He glanced down at the beef. “But you need to put on a pretty dress and go out and whoop it up. Haven't you got any friends, dammit?”

“I have a few college pals I see now and then, but I'm too busy to keep in touch. Besides, I like being with you guys. I don't need anyone else.” She shook her head. “Stop frowning. It's the truth. I'm lucky. It's not as if I sit around my house and brood. I go to plays and baseball games and movies. Hell, you and Edna went to a movie with me last week. People who like their jobs tend to socialize with coworkers. What's different about me?”

“You ought to have someone to take care of you.”

“Chauvinist.”

“I am not. Everyone should have someone. Edna takes care of me. I take care of her. We both take care of the kids. It's the way life should be.”

She smiled. “You bet it should. But sometimes life doesn't cooperate. After Aunt Marguerite died I found out I was something of a loner. Not that I wasn't before. She did her best, but she wasn't the warmest person in the world. The closest I've ever really come to a real family was when I was here at Number Ten.” She made a face at him. “So stop trying to kick me out.”

“Well, if you feel that way, do something about it. We miss you. I think you miss us. Why the devil don't you give up that job and come back to where you belong? You had the makings of a great firefighter, Kerry.”

“That's not what you said on that first day I came here.”

“I had a right to be skeptical. How was I to know you weren't some women's lib fanatic who might get one of us killed to prove a point? You didn't look like you could carry a miniature poodle out of a burning building.”

“And you found out that I'm stronger than I look. It's all in knowing the technique. I knew I had to pull my weight and I did it.”

“Yes, you did. That's why I'm telling you to come back where you belong.”

“I'm better off where I am.”

He sighed. “With that dumb dog. I hear the department wouldn't even accept him until he found evidence in the Wadsworth fire.”

“They didn't understand his potential. I got him from the pound and he had problems adjusting to discipline.”

“Butterflies.”

She nodded. “He gets distracted.” She reached for another mushroom. “But I can focus him on the—”

The alarm bell was blaring.

“Duty calls.” Charlie turned off the burner and strode out of the kitchen. “See you, Kerry.”

She followed him out of the kitchen and watched them hurry into their gear. “I'll finish the stroganoff. It'll be ready when you get back.”

“The hell you will,” Paul said. “I remember your cooking. We'll wait for Charlie.”

“You're not so good yourself,” Kerry said. “Okay, I'll let you starve. Sam and I were going to go to the children's ward at Grady's later, but I might as well go now. I can't do—” She was talking to air. The guys had left the room, and a moment later she heard the fire truck roaring out of the station and down the street.

Jesus, the room felt empty.

And, Jesus, she wished she were on that fire truck with them, every nerve and muscle alive and geared to the job ahead.

Stop wishing for something that was out of reach. She'd made her decision and it was a good one. She'd have ended up a basket case if she hadn't distanced herself after Smitty died. She was still too close, but she could survive.

“Come on, Sam,” she called into the kitchen. “Let's go visit the kids.”

Sam didn't come.

She went back into the kitchen and found him with his nose under the cabinet trying to scrounge a piece of beef Charlie had dropped on the floor.

“Sam.”

He looked up with his head pressed sidewise on the floor. He looked perfectly ridiculous.

She shook her head as she chuckled. “A little dignity, please. Come on, let's go.”

He didn't move.

She got a piece of meat from the frying pan and tossed it to him. He lunged upward and caught it. Then he trotted toward her with a doggy smile on his face.

She stooped and leashed him.

“I thought you weren't supposed to give arson dogs treats anytime except when they came up with a scent.”

She glanced up warily to see Dave Bellings, the tech repairman, standing in the doorway. He'd been a fireman before he injured his leg and was forced to take disability. Now he was a skilled computer technician focusing on the equipment here and at other firehouses in the county. “You're not supposed to give them extra treats. But Sam's different.” And she'd almost been busted. She was lucky it had only been Dave. “It works for him.”

“You can't argue with success.” Dave patted Sam's black silky head as he went past him to the coffee dispenser. “He deserves a little pampering.”

“Where's the fire?”

“Standard Tire warehouse on the south side. Three-alarm.”

Smoke. Black, curling smoke
.

“Shit.”

He nodded. “It's going to be a bad one. I guess we're lucky we're out of it, Kerry.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Overpowering heat. The stench of burning rubber.

Bellings grimaced. “Who are we kidding? We'd both be on that truck if we could. We're junkies. Why else would we hang around here as much as they let us?”

“You're right.” She tried to smile. She had to get out of here. “Bye, Dave. See you.”

He tilted his head. “You okay? You look a little pale.”

“It must be the light in here. I'm fine.” She quickly led Sam from the room and out of the firehouse. Brace yourself. It might not come. But she had that damn prickling in the back of her neck. She had gone only a few yards down the street when the blinding pain knifed through her head.

Black smoke curling over the stacked tires. The smell of burning rubber. Sirens.

Her stomach was twisting and she couldn't breathe.

It was going to be all right. She closed her eyes. Just inhale slowly and rhythmically.

Sam whined.

It was better now. The pain in her head was fading to a dull throb. She opened her eyes to see the dog staring up at her with that endearing cross-eyed soberness. “Stop worrying,” she murmured. “Just a bad moment.”

The hospital. She'd been on her way to the hospital to visit the kids. It was only a few blocks away and she didn't dare drive right now. She turned left and started up the street. “It's going to be okay.”

God, she hoped it was going to be okay.

F
ire.

Brad Silver's hands tightened on the wheel of his car as he fought to keep the image away.

He couldn't breathe.

He pulled over to the side of the road and switched off the ignition. Ride it out. It was usually over quickly.

Christ, the
smell
.

Then it was gone and he leaned his head on the steering wheel, gasping for breath.

He reached blindly for his phone and dialed. “Dammit, Travis. I almost wrecked the car. Get me
out
of this.”

“Easy, Brad.” Michael Travis's tone was soothing. “She must be having a bad time. Is it still going on?”

“No, but it may come back. It has before. Why the hell isn't she more controlled?”

“Denial. How close are you to her?”

“A mile or two. She's on her way to some hospital.”

“Maybe that's it. Perhaps someone's been hurt.”

“No, it's her usual weekly visit to the pediatrics ward. She's not upset. Or she wasn't before this episode. Can you do anything to quiet her down?”

“No, I told you she was a wild card. And dirt stubborn. If she calls and asks for help, I might have a chance. Otherwise, you're on your own.”

“Thanks a lot,” Silver said sarcastically. “You're the one who told me how much help she was going to be to me. You just neglected to tell me that she might kill me before we were through with each other.”

“You knew how she could rock you.”

“The hell I did. I've never been this close to her before.”

“You can always back out and we'll try to find someone else.”

Silver thought about it. It was tempting. Kerry Murphy was a powder keg set to go off. He liked to be in control, and these last few minutes had proved he'd have the devil of a time keeping her in check enough to manipulate her.

“Brad?”

“I've devoted too much time to her to walk away. I know her inside and out.”

“Yes, you do. Probably better than she knows herself.”

“I'll handle her.”

“No force. I know what you're capable of. I don't want her damaged.”

“I said, I'll handle her. You just stand by in case I need a backup.” He added grimly, “Or an ambulance.” He hung up and took a deep breath before pulling out into the traffic again. Only a couple more miles on this freeway. If he concentrated, he could keep his guard up long enough to get to her. After that, he'd play it by ear. He didn't want Kerry damaged either, and he could usually trust his knowledge and experience to overcome his own violent impulses. He'd learned long ago that finesse was better than force. He just hoped this looming battle wouldn't prove the exception.

Or neither one of them would survive.

O
range juice?” Melody Vanetti smiled down at Kerry sitting cross-legged on the floor of the hospital lounge. “You've been reading to the kids for the past hour. You must be a little dry.”

“Thanks, Melody.” She took the orange juice from the nurse. “I seem to be forgotten for the moment. Sam's on center stage.” She grinned. “Not that I'm surprised. I don't know any child in the world who'd prefer a grown-up to a dog.”

“You're great with the kids.” Melody tilted her head. “But you look a little tired today.”

“Nah,” Kerry said. “I'm good. Even if I wasn't, I wouldn't dare complain. These guys would make me feel ashamed.” Her smile faded. “Who's the new kid? The one with his arm around Sam.”

“Josh. Came in with burns on his arms. We're stalling until DFACS can make sure they weren't inflicted by his grandmother.”

“Sweet.” The kid looked to be only four or five and he was hugging Sam, his face buried in his throat. She felt a wrenching pang as she saw the bruises on his face. But he was smiling now, and that was no surprise. Kerry had found that kids responded to Sam no matter how damaged they were. “If I can help, let me know.”

“What could you do?”

Kerry shrugged. “Find someone to declare the grandmother's house a fire hazard so she wouldn't have a residence to bring the kid back to? I don't know. Just do me a favor and let me know.”

“Sure. It's nice of you to care.” She started for the door. “I have meds to give. I'll come back and check on you later.”

“We'll be okay. And the kids aren't going to get into any mischief as long as they have Sam to play with.” She checked her watch. Everything must be all right at the tire company. She'd been here over an hour and she'd been fine. A dull throbbing headache, but that wasn't unusual. It was a big fire, a dangerous fire. Naturally, she'd be nervous and afraid of—

Backdraft.

An oak door on the third floor.

Smoke. He can't see.

Who couldn't see?

Two men climbing the stairs toward the door.

The burning stairs were crashing behind them.

Go back. Go back, Charlie
.

It was Charlie. Oh, God, she'd known it would be Charlie.

They'd reached the third floor.

Don't open the door, Charlie.

Backdraft. Backdraft.

He opened the door.

That deadly whoosh.

Fire. Everywhere. Hurt. He was hurting.

“Kerry.” Melody was looking down at her with concern. “Are you okay?”

No. Hurting. Hurting.

She leaped to her feet. “Sick. I have to get to the bathroom.” She ran out of the lounge and down the hall.

Hurting. Hurting.

Find a place to hide. Somewhere dark where no one could find her.

Closet.

She opened the door and slammed it behind her. Alone. The closet was dim and small and she'd be safe here. But what about Charlie?

Dear God, she could smell smoke and burning flesh. She sank to her knees and scuttled back against the wall.

Hurting. Hurting. Hurting.

2
                                                                                                                                                

F
or God's sake, shut it out.”

Someone was standing silhouetted in the open doorway, she realized dimly. A man. A tall man. A doctor? It didn't matter.

Hurting. Hurting. Hurting.

The door slammed behind the man and he was kneeling beside her. “Listen to me. You've got to shut it out.”

“Charlie.”

“I know.” He took her hands. “But you can't help him by hurting like this.”

“He's in pain—backdraft. Down . . . down . . .”

“And you can't shut it out.” He drew a deep breath. “But I can. Don't be scared. I'm coming in.”

What was he talking about?

“Look at me.” His dark eyes were holding her own. “It's going to go away now.”

It wouldn't go away. The smoke and the fire were going to go on forever. Charlie . . .

They're coming up the stairs to get you, Charlie.

Too late.

Hurting. Hurt—

The pain was gone. Charlie was gone. No smoke. No fire.

A blue lake. Sunlight. Green grass.

Peace.

“Come on.” He was standing, pulling her to her feet. “We have to get out of here. I don't how long I can hold it back.”

Two deer were coming to drink at the lake. A soft breeze was blowing the tall grass
.

“Come on.” He opened the door and pulled her out into the corridor. “We're going to go get Sam and then you're going home.”

“Charlie . . .”

“He's not here at the lake now. We'll go back to him later.” He was pulling her down the corridor toward the lounge. “I'll explain everything and get us out of here. But when we enter the room, you have to smile at the kids. You don't want them to worry.”

No, children shouldn't worry. Their world should always be full of sunlight. How they'd love to be away from the city by this beautiful lake.

And suddenly they were there. She could see the little boy, Josh, laughing as he ran through the grass.

“Are you all right?” It was Melody Vanetti, gazing worriedly at her. “I went to the rest room to check on you, but you weren't there.”

“She's a little under the weather,” the man holding her arm said. “I ran into her in the hall and took her out to get a little fresh air.” He smiled and held out his hand. “You're Nurse Vanetti? She's told me how good you are with the kids. I'm Brad Silver. I work with Kerry.”

Melody shook his hand, but she was still frowning as she gazed at Kerry. “Do you think she should see one of the doctors?”

“That's what I suggested, but she just wants to go home. Isn't that right, Kerry?”

Home was the lake. Home was the children playing in the meadow
.

“Kerry?”

She nodded. “I want to go home.”

“Then I'll just go get Sam.” Silver moved across the room toward the children. He squatted beside Josh.

But how could that be when she could see Josh running by the lake? Silver must be talking to some other little boy.

“I have to take your buddy away now,” he said gently to the little boy who looked like Josh. “But I promise you'll see him again.” He touched the little boy on the shoulder. “Everything's going to be all right.” He smiled at the other children as he led Sam toward Kerry. “Kerry will see you next week. She has to leave now.” He nodded at Melody. “Thanks for everything. I'll let you know how she's doing once I get her home.”

Then he was nudging Kerry out of the lounge and down the hall.

The sky over the lake was getting cloudy. Or was that smoke in the distance?

No smoke. The answer came immediately and firmly.

Sunlight. Children playing. Blue delphiniums growing straight and proud on the hillside. How she loved delphiniums. . . .

They were out of the elevator and he was leading her toward the parking lot. “Only a little longer, Kerry.” He opened the door of a black Lexus. “Jump in, Sam.” Sam jumped into the car and immediately settled down on the seat. He opened the passenger door for Kerry. “I'll have you home in no time.”

He was smiling as he helped her into a boat at the dock on the lake. Then he was rowing, his oar lifting and falling in the glittering blue water.

He pulled into her driveway and stopped the car. He reached for her purse. “I need your keys.” He pulled them out, opened the rear door for Sam, and strode up the steps to the front porch.

They had drifted under the overhanging branches of a weeping willow and she could see the reflection of the lacy fronds in the water. He was smiling at her. Warmth. Safety. Joy. “Kerry.” He was holding out his hand to help her from the boat. “Come with me.”

Where? It didn't matter. She knew wherever he led her would be beautiful. She took his hand.

They were going up the front stairs. Sam was tearing around the porch and Silver let him into the house before he pushed her gently into the foyer. He followed her into the house and closed the door.

He leaned back against it and drew a deep breath. “Thank God.”

Clouds again over the lake, she noticed uneasily. She didn't like it. . . .

“Not clouds. Smoke,” Silver said. “I can't keep it away from you any longer. It's smoke and it's getting thicker. But it's not going to hurt you anymore. That part's over, Kerry. I'm getting out. I'll try to do it slow and easy, but it's going to be a wrench.”

Smoke was swirling about her like fog, obscuring the lake and the willow and the children. And beyond the smoke . . .

Fire.

Charlie!

She screamed.

E
asy.” Silver grasped her shoulders. “You knew it was coming. Accept it.”

“He's dead. Charlie's dead.”

He nodded. “He died about five minutes ago.”

She closed her eyes as she tried to absorb the shock and sorrow. “How do you know that?” Her eyes flicked open and she tore away from him. “And what the hell are you doing in my house?”

“Trying to keep you from blowing your cover. And don't give me any grief.” He added roughly, “I'm too pissed to feel sympathetic at the moment. Do you think this was easy for me? I suppose I could have left you in that closet until someone found you. But by that time you'd have probably had to be treated at the local funny farm.”

“Get out of here. I don't know who you are and I don't care.” She moved toward the telephone. “I have to call the station.”

“To find out what you already know? Charlie's dead. The other man on the staircase is on his way to Grady Hospital. He'll probably live.” He paused. “And you suspect who I am. Or at least what I am.”

“Go away. Maybe Charlie's not dead. It doesn't have to be true.” She dialed the station number and Dave picked up. “Dave, I heard there was trouble at—”

“Oh, God, Kerry.” His voice was cracking. “Charlie. What a hell of a—I knew him for thirty years. He was thinking about retiring in the spring. Why did it have to happen to—”

She hung up. She couldn't take any more. She leaned her head against the wall, the tears flowing down her cheeks.

“I'll give Sam some water and make a pot of coffee,” Silver said quietly. “Come when you're ready. Kitchen's down the hall, right?” He didn't wait for her answer.

She moved into the living room and dropped down on the couch. She should call Edna and see if she wanted her to come over. No, not now. She didn't even know if she'd been notified yet. Kerry dropped her head on the arm of the couch and didn't try to stop the tears from coming. Charlie deserved tears. . . .

She could hear Silver in the kitchen saying something to Sam. This stranger was clearly making himself at home, and yet she felt no sense of threat. Maybe she was too stunned to feel fear.

Or maybe he was making sure she wasn't afraid. That thought was terrifying in itself.

She wouldn't think about it. She was too upset to deal with anything right now. She'd give herself a little time to regain her composure before she had to go and face him. She'd close her eyes for just a moment and escape from all the pain and sorrow. . . .

S
he was sleeping.

Silver stood in the doorway and looked down at her, curled on the couch. He knew it was a sleep that wouldn't last long. She'd been exposed to too much and had to recoup from the overload. He'd seen it many times before.

She looked almost childlike with her tousled, short, chestnut hair and smooth, satiny complexion. But she wasn't a child. She was tough and stubborn and was going to give him a hell of a bad time.

So stop feeling sorry for her. He'd try to give her something in return, but there was no doubt he was going to use Kerry Murphy.

There was too much in the balance for him to walk away now.

I
t was over an hour before Kerry woke and another fifteen minutes before she felt steady enough to leave the shelter of the living room and go to the kitchen to face Silver. If that was his name. How could she be sure anything he told her was true? He'd exploded into her life when she was at her most vulnerable and he was still only a shadow figure to her.

She stopped in the doorway. He was sitting at the kitchen table, talking on the phone, and he didn't look in the least shadowlike. He had dark hair and dark eyes, was somewhere in his mid-thirties, and powerfully built. Yes,
power
was the key word to describe him. He exuded authority and confidence. The impression was so dominant that it made no difference that he was dressed in faded jeans and sweatshirt and that his features were less than handsome. Particularly now that he was frowning at something that he was hearing on the phone. He glanced up and saw her and said quickly, “I'll call you back, Gillen.” He hung up and rose to his feet. “Sit down. I'll get you a cup of coffee.”

“I'll get it myself.” She moved toward the cabinet. “After all, it
is
my house.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He sat back down. “Just trying to be accommodating. I promised I'd be nice to you.” He scowled. “It's been damn hard.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “I couldn't care less whether you're nice to me or not. I don't know you and I don't want to know you. I lost a good friend today and I just want you to get out of here and leave me alone.”

“Can't do it.” He sipped his coffee. “I need you. Believe me, if I thought I could get the same kind of help somewhere else, I'd be out of here. I've had a hard week and you've made it tougher. Sit down and we'll talk.”

“I don't want to talk.” She poured her coffee and had to steady her hand before she picked up the cup. “I was pretty much out of it, but I believe you were kind to me earlier today. But that doesn't mean you can barge into my life. If you don't get out, I'll have to call the police.”

“You don't want to call in the cops. Any questions they ask me may have awkward consequences for you.” He added, “And you're not going to get rid of me until you sit down and listen.”

She hesitated, staring at him. She was tempted to tell him to go to hell, but there was something she had to know, something that was filling her with fear. She slowly moved across the room and sat down at the table. But she found she couldn't ask that question yet. Instead, she asked, “How did you know I was in that closet?”

“You were sending out a distress call that was nearly blowing my mind.” He studied her expression. “You're afraid of me.”

“I'm not afraid.”

“Not that I'm going to mug you or rape you. You're afraid I'm going to intrude.” He shook his head. “No way. It hurts too damn much.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“The hell you don't.” He shook his head wearily. “I was told you were stubborn and preferred to turn a blind eye. I meant to be patient and kind and all that crap, but you blew me out of the water. You must have really liked this Charlie—”

“Of course I liked him. He was a great guy.”

“But not too perceptive. He liked you, but he never realized how you were using Sam.”

She stiffened. “Sam?”

He sighed. “Okay, let's jump over this hurdle and get things out in the open. Sam's a nice pup, but as an arson dog he's a complete washout. He couldn't sniff out a beefsteak in a butcher shop.”

“You're crazy. Everyone knows he's the best arson dog in the Southeast.”

“Because that's what you wanted everyone to believe. You didn't want anyone to know the truth.” He paused. “You didn't want them to know that the only way you knew where and how the fires were being set was that you saw it being done.”

“You're nuts. Do you think I'm some kind of pyromaniac?”

“No, I think you have a special psychic talent triggered by fire. If you come anywhere near the area a fire was set, you receive vibes; sometimes you actually see it being done. In cases where you have a relationship with the people involved in the fire, you don't have to be close.” He was silent a moment. “Like with your friend Charlie. You connected and couldn't get away.”

Smoke. The door on the third floor. Backdraft
.

“Steady,” he said quietly. “It's over now.”

She drew a deep breath. “You seem to think you know a good deal about me. Who are you? Some kind of reporter?”

“No, and I have no desire to let everyone know how you're using Sam. That's your business.”

“That's good.” She tried to smile. “Because it's all ridiculous. No one would ever believe that hocus-pocus.”

“I agree. It's a nitty-gritty world with no room for fantasy. I can understand perfectly why you needed to protect yourself. You wanted to make sure the bad guys got what was coming to them, but you knew you'd be laughed out of your job if you didn't have a way to validate what you were seeing.” He reached down and patted the Lab's head. “Enter super arson dog Sam. But you could have picked one who had a little more credibility.”

“I don't need your understanding. And Sam's just fine.” She moistened her lips and looked down into her coffee. “And if you're through making outrageous guesses, maybe you'd like to tell me why you're here.”