Incandescent (18 page)

When Orr was arrested in 1991, police found
cigarettes, rubber bands and binoculars in his car. They also found
an incriminating manuscript, “Point of Origin,” in which Orr
created a character who was both a fireman and an arsonist. He
wrote: “To Aaron, the smoke was beautiful, causing his heart rate
to quicken and his breath to come in shallow gasps. He was trying
to control his outward appearance and look normal to anyone around
him. ... He relaxed and partially stroked his erection, watching
the fire.”

Aaron’s eyes widened, disturbed that he
shared the same name as Orr’s protagonist. It unsettled him that he
could relate to the character’s emotions. He shook off the
coincidence and returned to the database. He highlighted all of the
known suspects who used cigarettes as heat in the fire combustion
triangle. He exported the list to a new screen, searching for known
whereabouts. Several of the men were paroled, but most were still
in prison, serving life terms for fire fatalities.

He picked up the printout James Braddock
Johnson had searched through the week before his attack. He typed
the victim’s name into BATS and read a summary of the final
report.

Lt. Col. Charles Halstead and his family had
perished in a house fire in February in upstate New York.
Investigators pinpointed the fire to a smoldering cigarette that
rolled under the sofa, and blamed the deaths on the malfunctioning
fire detectors.

The more he read, the more excited he became.
There were correlations between the Halstead fire in New York, and
the Martin fire in Eaton. If the decades-old relationship between
Halstead and Judge Johnson was at the center of the crime, how
could Wayne Montgomery be connected? He hadn’t been born when
Johnson worked as a paralegal in Halstead’s office.

Cooper awoke to the ringing telephone. His
wife groaned and turned in her sleep, pulling a pillow over her
head. Cooper swung his feet over the side of the bed and picked up
the receiver.

“Dad, I need to talk to you. I think I’ve got
it figured out.”

Cooper smiled in the dark, his feet already
searching the carpeted floor for his slippers. “Okay, son. Let me
go downstairs and I’ll call you right back.” He hung up the phone
and looked at the clock: twelve forty-seven.

After a pit-stop to the bathroom, and then to
the kitchen for a beer, Cooper settled into his office chair and
dialed Aaron’s cell. He turned on the speaker so he could use both
hands, one to turn on his computer and the other to sip beer.

“Whatta ya got?”

Aaron launched into a detailed explanation of
his findings, while Cooper occasionally grunted “un huh.”

“Let me get this straight,” Cooper
interrupted him. “You think there are two perps? The guy in jail is
working with someone else?”

“That’s my theory,” Aaron said. “If I’m
right, he’s still out there. He’s in New York, setting fires.”

Cooper grunted. “You think he’s still here?
Since the attack on Braddock and his daughter didn’t go as planned,
you think maybe he’s on his way back to Pennsylvania?”

“And Anna is …,” Aaron’s voice trailed
off.

“Not safe,” Cooper finished the sentence.
“How are you going to find out who it is? More important, how are
you going to find him?”

Aaron heaved a deep breath. “Finding out who
he is won’t be as difficult as finding out where he is. I’ll cross
reference Wayne Montgomery’s previous known associates with their
records, and see if anything comes up in the case files of
Halstead’s. There’s a name out there and I’ll find it,” he said. “I
don’t know if I can find where he is, but I do know where he will
be.”

“You think he’s still targeting Judge Johnson
and his daughter?” Cooper asked.

“No doubt about it,” Aaron said. “There have
been three attempts on their lives. Two failed and the third was
close. I think our guy is going to try to finish it.”

“Do the Johnsons have police protection?”
Cooper asked.

“He’s in the hospital, in the critical care
unit. Nothings’ going to happen to him there. The nurses told me
that Anna’s been staying with him at night.”

Cooper hesitated before stating the obvious.
“Do you know that for sure? Is she there right now?”

Aaron squirmed. He hadn’t asked Anna her
whereabouts during their phone call an hour earlier. When he didn’t
answer, Cooper spoke up. “Don’t assume anything, son.”

Aaron felt his heart speed up. “I’ve gotta
go.” He strapped on his holster and checked the cartridges in his
gun. He grabbed his uniform windbreaker and car keys and bolted out
the hotel door.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Anna awoke to a thundering noise. Fred, lying
on the foot of the bed, raised his head and growled. He bounded off
the bed and down the stairs, barking. Panicked, Anna reached for
the bedside lamp and turned it on. She hesitated, wondering if she
should telephone the police when she heard Aaron call to her.

“Anna! Anna, wake up! Open the door. It’s
Aaron. Anna! Are you there?”

His strident voice shook her from her
reverie. She raced down the stairs and pulled Fred aside. Blocking
the dog from charging, she wedged her knee between him and the
front door as she unlatched it. “Down, Fred! It’s okay,” she
repeated.

She flipped on the front porch light, and
opened the door a few inches. Aaron slipped his hand through the
crack and pushed it open. Anna stepped back, her temper
flaring.

“What the hell’s going on, Aaron? Why are you
here? You can’t walk in whenever you like!”

Instead of answering her questions, Aaron
grabbed her shoulders. “Are you alright? Why aren’t you at the
hospital?”

Fred growled at his menacing position, until
Aaron looked at the dog and commanded, “Sit!” He obeyed.

Aaron wrapped his arms around Anna, pulling
her into a tight embrace. “I was afraid something had happened,” he
said, his words muffled against her hair. “I called the hospital
but they said you left. You can’t do that. You can’t be alone. It’s
not safe.”

Anna was paralyzed, her emotions at war.
Fear, shock, relief and hope intermingled, giving way to annoyance.
She shoved against his chest. “What are you talking about?” she
asked. “I can go anywhere I want. He’s locked up. He’s not going to
hurt me or my father again.”

Aaron shook his head, his green eyes
flashing. “He’s not alone.”

An hour later, a cup of orange spice tea
warming her hands, she closed her eyes. She was exhausted, and
listening to Aaron explain about the bizarre partnership confused
her. She didn’t understand most of the technical terms he used.

He paced the living room, scowling at her.
She didn’t want to believe the threat still existed.

“What can I say to convince you?” he asked.
“You could be in danger.”

Her temper flared. “You don’t know for sure,”
she said. “You said he’s in New York. Anyway, why should I trust
you? The man who dumped me after getting what he wanted? I must
have been crazy, thinking you were special.”

Aaron stumbled in mid-step. He turned to
Anna, befuddled. “I didn’t dump you,” he said. “I don’t know what
you’re talking about. I had to go to New York to check out a lead.
I was doing my job,” he said. “First you get hysterical and then
you give me the silent treatment. I don’t know what’s going on
….”

Anna sprang from the couch, knocking her
empty cup on the carpeted floor. It was her turn to pace and she
waved her arms as she did. “You jerk! I was not hysterical. I hate
it when men say that about women. Just because we’re pissed off and
tell you so, you call us hysterical. Well, what do you call
pounding on my door in the middle of the night?”

“I was trying to get your attention,” he
said, watching her warily.

“Well, what you do think I was trying to do?”
she asked, sarcasm dripping from her words. “Maybe I was trying to
get your attention that morning you left.”

“And you get that by throwing your shoe at my
head?”

Anna poked him in the chest. “I missed. I was
aiming for your ….”

She didn’t finish. Aaron pulled her into his
arms, his mouth fusing on hers. Her vitriol vanished. She fisted
her hands in his black hair and bit his bottom lip.

He broke the kiss, squeezing her until she
whimpered. “Damn you,” she muttered.

Relaxing his embrace, he rubbed his cheek
against hers. “Don’t do this,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me. I’ve
just found you.”

Anna froze, listening to his tender words.
Silently, she encouraged him to say more.

“I don’t want to be without you,” he said. “I
need you.”

Still she waited, her heart racing.

He placed his hands on the sides of her face,
forcing her to look in his eyes. “Anna, you’re right. I’m a jerk
and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I love you. Let me keep
you safe. Stay with me.”

He watched as she clenched her eyes shut. A
tear escaped from the corner. He kissed it, tasting salt. When she
didn’t respond, he lifted his hands and took a step back. His belly
twisted.

Anna opened her eyes and a faint, wry smile
tugged at her lips. “You do?”

Aaron shrugged, then gave a nod. It was a
nonchalant gesture, a mask to cover his vulnerability and she
couldn’t resist it. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her
cheek pressed to his heart.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

When Aaron finished his shower, he found the
old dog sprawled on his side of the bed, its graying muzzle resting
on his pillow. Fred didn’t open his eyes, but his tail thumped a
few times.

“That’s a half-assed apology,” Aaron told the
old dog.

He finished dressing, before sitting on the
side of the bed. He leaned over Anna, brushed hair from her cheek,
and kissed her. “I have to go,” he said, his voice a low whisper.
She stirred, still asleep.

Aaron studied her for several moments,
absorbing the sight and scent of a satisfied woman. Her lips were
swollen from his kisses. Her cheeks were red from his stubbled face
abrading her. As if aware of his scrutiny, she pulled the sheet
over her bare shoulders and snuggled deeper into the pillows.

He didn’t want to leave, but he had an
eight-thirty meeting with the Eaton Police Department and needed
his laptop and files from his hotel room. He wrote a short note and
put it on bathroom door before slipping quietly out of the
room.

Two hours later, Anna’s cell phone rang. She
groaned and flopped a hand onto the nightstand, groping for it. She
recognized Aaron’s number, and was confused. She turned her head to
the warm body next to her. “Who? What?”

Fred’s tail swished on top of the
comforter.

Anna sat up and answered the phone.
“Hello?”

“Hey gorgeous, how are you feeling this
morning?” His words were like honey, rich and sweet.

Anna looked around her empty bedroom. “Um,
good,” she stuttered. “Where are you? Why didn’t you wake me
up?”

“I didn’t want to disturb you. I had to
update the local police. I think we’ve got a few leads.”

She walked to the bathroom, holding the phone
by her ear. She plucked a blue note from the mirrored door and read
it. Sweet and short. “Oh yeah? You think you know who the second
guy is?”

“We’ve got some names. Just need to do some
police work, see if anything pans out,” he said. “Why don’t we meet
for breakfast? I could go for one of those famous breakfast
messes.”

“Sure,” Anna said. “Let me take a quick
shower and I’ll meet you at Frankie’s Diner. Do you remember where
that is? Good. See you in a half hour.”

From his vantage point down the block, the
man watched as Anna opened the front door. The large retriever
bounded out, and raced around the yard while Anna picked up the
newspaper. She waited with patience, thumbing through the newspaper
while the dog explored the yard. After it relieved itself, she held
the door open and it went inside. She pulled the door shut,
ignoring the deadlock. Anna’s nonchalance and the fact that she
left the door open meant she hadn’t activated the house’s security
system.

The man thumped his fist on the steering
wheel in elation. This time, he would not fail. The corners of his
mouth turned up, his scarred face twisting into a smile when Anna
drove past. He waited several minutes before exiting the car. He
walked with confidence down the sidewalk to the Johnson house,
batteries clacking in his pants pocket.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Frankie lowered a steaming plate of scrambled
eggs, mushrooms, sausage and cheese onto the table. She placed a
short stack of pancakes in front of Anna. “Enjoy,” she commanded
the couple.

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” he said. “May I ask you a
question?” Aaron asked.

Frankie swiveled and placed her fists on her
hips. “Shoot.”

Anna grimaced. “Be careful what you ask for
….”

Aaron ignored the jab at his holstered gun.
“The last time I was here, you mentioned that several out of
towners were in Eaton. You recognized my New York accent and said I
wasn’t the only one here.”

Frankie nodded. “Yep.”

Aaron grinned. “Can you describe the others?
Would you be willing to look at some photos?”

“Does this have anything to do with your
Daddy’s attacker,” Frankie asked, directing her question to Anna.
At her nod, Frankie shrugged. “Sure. The lunch crowd is just
beginning, but you can stop by around two o’clock.”

Aaron thanked her then turned his attention
to his breakfast, dipping a fork into the fragrant mound.

While Aaron visited Frankie, Anna spent the
afternoon with her father. She was surprised to see Phoebe sitting
in her usual chair. The older woman noted the easy smile on Anna’s
lips, the glow in her cheeks, her light step.