Incandescent (6 page)

She walked away, tucking the headphones into
her ears and adjusting the volume. Her shoulders sagged as she
headed down the sidewalk back towards Gretchen’s house.

Chapter Nine

Paper swamped Phoebe Allen’s desk. Anna
navigated the canyons made by towering stacks of books as she
entered the small room. She transferred magazines and manuscripts
from a nearby chair to the top of a squat bookcase before
sitting.

“I’m afraid I’ve let things pile up,” Phoebe
said, not apologizing. “Don’t worry, I have the syllabus you need
right here.”

She foraged on her desktop, brushing aside
folders and papers until she found the one she needed.

“Ah, here we go. Your class is held once a
week, Thursdays from six to nine p.m. You have twelve students and
the adjunct salary is twenty-five hundred for the semester. You say
you’re already familiar with the software used in the class and you
have experience teaching. Renalda has faith in you. I suppose all I
need to know is if you’ll accept. If so, I have a simple contract
here you’ll need to sign.”

Anna’s head was swimming. “Don’t you need
some kind of resume?”

“No. I’m familiar with your work, Ms.
Johnson, as well as your academic record. You graduated from here
so it was easy to look at your transcripts. I’ve also communicated
through e-mail with the superintendent of the school district where
you taught. The Internet is a wonderful tool, isn’t it?”

Phoebe relaxed in her leather chair and
watched Anna, her gaze gentle and kind. “I’ll admit that your tale
of woe got me. Honestly, we had already planned to offer you the
job before I e-mailed you. You see, we’re in a bind and we think
you can help us. What do you say?”

“What do I say? Yes, yes. Thank you so much,
Dr. Allen. I won’t let you down.”

“Great. Now, why don’t you tell me about
yourself? What’s happening in your life?”

Maybe it was her sympathetic shoulder, maybe
it was her kind eyes, but Anna felt at ease with Phoebe Allen and
before she knew it, she confided in the older woman. She spoke
about Lacey, about her mother, about her father and Fred, the dog.
She described her kooky, funny friend Gretchen. The one person she
didn’t mention was Marshal Aaron Tahir.

“It is noon,” Phoebe said, looking at her
watch.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve been yakking all
morning. I’m sure you have things to do. I’d better go now,” Anna
said, standing and grabbing her purse. In her rush, she bumped into
one of the book stalagmites and it tumbled to the floor. Aghast,
she sank to her knees to straighten the mess.

“Don’t worry about it,” Phoebe said, tugging
on Anna’s elbow. “I do it all the time. See?”

She backed into a stack of books, bumping it
with her large rump until it swayed and toppled.

“Housekeeping cleans them up all the time.
That’s why they’re in these tall piles. You think I’d do something
this whacky? Why, they’re dangerous. An accident waiting to happen.
Why don’t we call it a morning, though, and head over to the
cafeteria? We’ll get some lunch, before going to security and
getting your campus I.D. and a parking pass. You’ll have to go to
the bookstore and get some supplies. It’s Wednesday and your first
class is tomorrow night.”

“Yes, of course,” Anna gushed. “Thank you,
again, for the opportunity.”

Chapter Ten

Anna returned to Gretchen’s apartment after
five o’clock, arms loaded with textbooks and an academic calendar.
Gretchen sat on the couch playing with her new Xbox. Mark, the
waiter from the brewery, held a remote in his hand and they were
pushing buttons, shoving each other with their shoulders.

“Hi guys,” Anna called out. “What are you
playing?”

“Grand Theft Auto. Ow, Mark! Not fair!”

Gretchen tossed her remote onto the living
room table and wrapped her arms around Mark’s waist. She shoved him
onto the couch and tickled his ribs. “Let’s see how you like it,
buster.”

She sank her sharp, white teeth into Mark’s
shoulder and growled. Meanwhile her fingers roamed lower, tugging
on the waistband of his jeans.

Mark howled with laughter. “You brat. Get
your mitts off the family jewels!”

“That’s not what you said last night,”
Gretchen purred.

“Okay, you two. Settle down. I have an
announcement to make. I have a job!”

“Oh, is that all?” Gretchen returned to
tickling Mark. “You have three or four jobs already, Anna.”

“Now I have a job as a college instructor at
Marshall.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been hired to teach graphic arts this
semester. Who knows, if they like me maybe they’ll ask me back next
semester. And maybe the one after that. This could be the break
I’ve been waiting for.”

“Awesome, Anna. Can you pull her off of me?”
Mark pleaded.

Gretchen whispered in Mark’s ear and stood
up, pulling him to his feet. “Yeah, that’s great, Anna. I’m so
proud of you. Um, Mark, can you help me change a light bulb in my
room?”

The couple stumbled over each other, giggling
and kissing, into Gretchen’s room, closing the door and locking it
behind them.

Anna rolled her eyes and dropped her new
books on the living room table. “Fine!” she yelled. “Don’t listen
to me. Nobody ever listens to me. See if I care.”

She stomped into the kitchen and yanked open
the refrigerator door. She sniffed a carton of milk. “Yuck,” she
said, dropping it in the trashcan. She heaved a couple of plastic
containers around as she foraged. She wasn’t hungry. She was
anxious to fill the void created when Gretchen and Mark
disappeared.

At least her father had been gracious enough
to listen when she called him after leaving Marshall.

The doorbell rang, its insistent buzz
startling her. She dropped the butter dish, butter side down.

“Of course,” she said, looking at the yellow
blob on the floor.

The buzzer rang again. This time two sharp
jabs.

“Okay, I’m coming,” she called, scowling at
the butter dish.

When she opened the door, Aaron Tahir stood
on the porch.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice sounded
sharp, accusing.

“We’re not finished. I need to speak with you
about ... Lacey,” he said, making sure he spoke the victim’s name
this time.

She looked over his shoulder and saw several
children playing road hockey in the middle of the street. “Come
inside,” she said, opening the door. “We can talk in here.”

Anna walked to the television and Xbox and
turned the system off. Without the deafening sound of the video
game’s revved engines and gunshots, Aaron could hear giggles and a
rhythmic thumping coming from one of the adjacent rooms.
Recognizing the sound of a boisterous round of sex, he raised a
quizzical brow. “Do you have company, Miss Johnson?”

“Ah,” she stammered. “That’s my new roommate.
I’ve been staying here since the fire.”

Aaron reviewed his notebook. “According to my
records, you’ve been staying with your father, James Johnson. I
stopped by there first.”

“Only for a day or so. I haven’t lived at
home for awhile, Mr. Tahir.”

They sat in silence. Anna squirmed
uncomfortably as the laughter and moaning escalated.

“Care to continue this somewhere else?” Aaron
asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yes. Let’s get out of here,” Anna replied,
grabbing her handbag and sprinting out the front door. She
depressed the button on the latch so the door would lock behind
her.

“Shall we go to the coffee shop again?” she
suggested.

“How about some place else?” Aaron asked.
“I’ve been working all day and I’m starved.”

He headed for his red truck. It was ominous
with tinted windows, looming against the curb. He opened the
passenger door and waited for Anna. She looked at the bench seat,
at least four feet off the ground. There was no running board.

“How am I supposed to get in there?”

Aaron laced his fingers together. Anna placed
one foot in his hand, grabbed a handful of his shirt and bounced
into the cab. She forgot to release his shirt, clutching at him and
drawing him to her.

“You in?” His green eyes raked her.

“You find this amusing, don’t you?” She
shoved his arm away and sat straight.

He pointed at the house across the street.
“Well, they’re having fun. Why not us?”

“I don’t expect that’s part of your job,
Marshal.”

“Sure it is, ma’am. I’m a public servant.
Your taxes pay my salary, so here I am, literally at your feet and
ready to serve.”

Since she didn’t have a snappy reply, Anna
ignored him. He closed the door and moved to the driver’s side,
swinging into the truck cab. She jumped when he reached across her
and pulled the seatbelt out of its case.

“Serve and protect, remember?” He smiled at
her nervousness, then clicked the belt into place. He slid his
thumb under the shoulder harness, adjusting it. Anna stared at his
hands as if they were burning coals.

Aaron started the big truck’s engine and
slipped it into gear. After checking the rear-view and side mirrors
for oncoming cars, he headed east towards downtown Eaton.

“What’s good around here?”

“Depends. What do you like?”

“I don’t suppose you have many ethnic
restaurants in this town, do you?”

“Well, we’ve got lots of Italian restaurants.
Otherwise, no. Eaton has a Perkins, two McDonalds, a Burger King, a
Wendy’s, a Taco Bell and a Kentucky Fried Chicken. Oh, wait, that’s
not politically correct, is it? I mean, KFC. We’ve got lots of sub
shops and pizza parlors.”

Aaron’s head was swimming. He ran his hand
through his black hair, raking the dark, coarse curls from his
forehead. “Just pick a place, OK? A quiet one.”

“Fine. Turn here.”

“Which way?”

“Turn right. Now park over there. That spot.
Hurry, that car is trying to get in first. Darn. You’re too late.
You have to use your signal if you’re going to park. You have to
let people know your intentions.”

Aaron stomped on the brakes, rocking the
truck. He angled toward Anna with a smirk, and put a finger against
her lips. “Not another word. I know how park this truck.”

Anna’s mouth burned at his touch, her eyes
widening. Aaron hesitated, watching as she licked her lips. They
both jumped when a horn blasted behind them.

Seconds later, Aaron slipped into a spot in
the back of a vacant public parking lot. After he turned off the
truck, he reached behind Anna’s knees and pulled a clipboard from
beneath the seat. “Excuse me,” he said, bumping her ankle with the
board. He wrote a note, then reached into his waistband and removed
a handgun.

Anna gasped.

“Sorry. Need to stow this away. Lift your
feet,” he said as he placed the clipboard under the seat. He
withdrew a strong box. Anna planted her feet on the dashboard and
swayed toward Aaron, watching with curiosity as he opened the box,
dumped the gun, and slid it back in place.

“Why did you need a gun at my place, but not
on the street?”

“Well now, I don’t know you, Miss Johnson.
You could have been a lunatic.”

“Maybe I am.”

“I think I can handle you.” Aaron eyes roved
from her mouth to her breasts, to her hips and legs before stopping
at her feet, still propped on the truck dash.

“Is this how you interrogate your suspects?”
she asked with irritation.

“Not all. And I never said you were a
suspect. I have questions about the case.”

“Case! Can’t you say her name? It’s Lacey,
damn you.”

“Miss Johnson, I am sorry. You’ve already
told me you are close to … to Lacey. I understand you’re sad and
you miss her. One of the ways you can honor her is by helping me
find out how the fire started. I’m not the bad guy. I’m one of the
good guys. See?”

Aaron pulled his wallet from his back pocket,
flipped it open and showed her a silver badge embossed with a
keystone.

Anna couldn’t stop the slow, fat teardrop
sliding down her nose, splashing onto her trembling upper lip.
Aaron reached out and caught the tear, rubbing it away with his
thumb.

He studied her as if working out a puzzle,
examining the sooty lashes fringed with tears, the flushed cheeks,
the small, upturned nose and pointed chin punctuated with a small
dimple. Mink brown hair framed her oval face and long, graceful
neck.

Aaron couldn’t shake the aura of sex
surrounding them. He’d been stimulated first by the loud and
provocative noises of lovemaking at the apartment, and again
sitting in the shadowed truck cab with Anna. More than anything, he
wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss those luscious lips.
Instead, he leaned against the driver’s door and rubbed his
chin.

She broke the spell. “Well, what are you
waiting for?”

His eyes widened. “Hmmm?”

“Aren’t you hungry? There’s a nice little
restaurant over there,” she said, nodding her head to Dante’s, a
local favorite, “serves a nice steak. Or lasagna, if you like.”

“Let’s go,” Aaron said.

Chapter Eleven

Self conscious and nervous during their
dinner, Anna talked too much and too fast. She recounted stories
from her childhood and growing up in Eaton. She also told him about
her freelance photography career and the offer to teach a college
course.

“Sounds like you have a good thing going
here,” he observed.

“I suppose. If you had asked me yesterday
morning, I wouldn’t have agreed. Strange how one thing can alter
your outlook isn’t it? Wow, this has been a one-sided
conversation,” she quipped. “Oh, wait, it isn’t a conversation, is
it? This is an interview. Do you think you have enough notes?”