Tender Is The Night (31 page)

"Who?" Eileen broke in. "You're not talking about Jeff, are you? He didn't touch you."

"I didn't give him the chance. Once that house burned down that you were both working on, he left town."

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"You're not going to have time to be sick, Mother," Lindsay said in a harsh, unforgiving voice. "And you don't even know what it feels like to be really sick, to puke your guts out, because your own father is hurting you."

Lindsay lit the match with one quick strike.

"Lindsay, you were abused. You need help," Kate said. "You don't need to set any more fires, or hurt any more people."

"It's too late for me. I killed Rick and that woman. I tried to stop after that, but I couldn't. The pain just got to be too much. The only thing that makes it go away is fire." She lifted the lit match in front of her eyes.

Kate suddenly realized that Lindsay didn't just want to kill her mother; she wanted to kill herself.

"It ends now," Lindsay said. "It ends where it started. Then I'll finally have peace."

"Wait," Kate said. "Tell me about the St. Christopher medal. Why did you leave it at the fires?"

"St. Christopher?" Eileen muttered.

Lindsay looked at her mom. "Why don't you tell her?"

"Someone tell me," Kate said.

Lindsay's gaze swung back to her. "
He
wore it around his neck. It would hit me in the face when he got on top of me." She looked down at the match, the flame nearing her fingers. "St. Christopher never protected me."

Devin's voice suddenly rang through the air. He was in the hall.

"Open up, Lindsay," he said, pounding against the wood.

Kate's heart jumped in relief.
Devin had come.

"Of course he came to rescue you," Lindsay said. "I watched you together at the book signing. He looked at you like he loved you. But he's not going to be able to get through the door in time. Maybe you can try to stop me, but you won't be able to get out before the fire starts. You should say good-bye. You have about one second."

Kate stared at her, unwilling to accept that outcome.

"Devin," she yelled. "The apartment is flooded with gasoline. Stay back."

"Kate, get to the door."

"I can't," she yelled. "Go outside. Let me handle this."

"So touching," Lindsay said. "I thought Rick liked me like that, until he turned on me." She looked back at her mother. "I should have killed you with Dad, but I wanted you to suffer. I knew that the only thing you cared about were the houses you decorated. They were your family. But now it's your turn."

Eileen was sobbing now. "Lindsay, I love you. You're my little girl. If you want to kill me, kill me, but don't kill yourself. Don't kill Kate. Walk out of here. Set the fire on your way out—I won't stop you. Maybe if you get rid of me, you'll be free—you'll have that peace."

Eileen's maternal speech was passionate enough to actually make Lindsay waver.

Kate saw her chance and rushed forward.

As she tackled Lindsay, the match flew out of her hand and the flame sparked the gasoline-soaked rags and carpet. The burst of fire threw them both against the wall. Dazed, she saw Lindsay getting to her feet, grabbing the box of matches that had fallen to the ground, throwing another one into an open can of turpentine.

The can exploded and Kate was knocked back off of her feet. Her head bounced off the floor.

The front door flew open, and Devin rushed in like a wild man. He ran to her first as walls of flame leapt up the apartment walls.

"Kate, thank God." He yanked her to her feet. "Are you all right?"

"We have to get them out." She saw both Eileen and Lindsay on the other side of the fire. The explosion had knocked them unconscious.

"You first," he insisted.

"Devin—"

He wouldn't listen. He pushed her through the doorway and into the hall. Then he ran toward Eileen.

She wanted to stop him from going back in. The fire was exploding everywhere it reached new fuel. There was no way he could get them both out on his own and then get himself out. But there was also no way he was going to leave them inside.

She ran back into the room to help.

"Dammit, Kate," he said, as he dragged Eileen toward the door.

She grabbed Eileen's arms. "I've got her. Get Lindsay."

He turned away, but neither one had gone one more foot before the fire exploded again. Parts of the ceiling came crashing down on her head. She shoved boards and nails and plaster off of her head, struggling to her feet, trying to get Eileen free as well.

Thankfully, the fire department was now on the scene. One of the firefighters grabbed Eileen and put her over his shoulder, while the other helped Kate down the stairs and outside.

When she got to the sidewalk, she saw Devin coming out of the building, and she breathed a huge sigh of relief.

She ran to him, throwing her arms around him, as the terror of what had almost happened became very, very real.

He hugged her tight against his chest for a long minute, and then he pulled back to look into her face. "God, Kate, when I couldn't get in that door…when I smelled that gas…and then the burst of fire…"

"I'm okay. We're both okay."

"Your face. It's cut."

She put a hand to her stinging cheeks. "The glass from the windows."

"We need to get you to the hospital."

"I'm okay. Eileen is the one I'm worried about." She looked over at the paramedics who were working on Eileen.

"She was knocked out, but I think she'll be all right," Devin said. "I couldn't get to Lindsay, Kate." His voice was tight. "The firefighter pulled me out of there before I could get to her."

"You tried," she said, looking back at him. "You did everything you could. They'll get her out." But as their gazes turned to the building, there was no sign of Lindsay. "It's taking longer than I thought it would."

"The fire is bad," he said grimly. "She knew what she was doing. But then I guess she had a lot of practice."

She blew out a breath as she turned to face him. "I can't believe Eileen's daughter was the arsonist. We came here because Lindsay called and said she had to see her mom right away. I had a bad feeling when I smelled the gasoline, but Eileen was going in no matter what. She thought someone was after her daughter, that they'd set her up. I wasn't sure, so I followed her inside. And then Lindsay locked the door and blocked our way out. I was stupid."

"You weren't stupid. You were trying to protect Eileen. Lindsay wasn't on my radar, either. Not until I saw her photo on Eileen's desk, and I realized she was the girl from the yearbook picture."

"Their names weren't the same."

"Eileen uses her maiden name."

"That explains that." She paused, licking her dry, parched lips. "Lindsay was abused by her father. Her mother didn't know about it or said she didn't know. Lindsay asked for help, but no one seemed able to give it to her. She started setting fires with Rick. She liked how it felt to watch something burn. Then she decided to see how it would feel to watch her father burn. She killed him when she was sixteen years old. I can't believe Eileen never told us that her husband had been killed in a fire."

"She killed her father?" he echoed in shock.

"Yes."

"Damn. This started a long time ago."

"Ten years. I guess that's why Eileen never mentioned it. She also thought her husband fell asleep while smoking, and that's what caused the fire. It was never believed to be suspicious."

"Was Lindsay there?"

"She was sleeping at a friend's house that night, or at least that's what she told her mother. After her father died, Lindsay felt better. She said it was a tremendous relief. She thought she could be normal again, and for a while she was. She went away to school. She tried to live a normal life, but when she came back to San Francisco, she saw her mother with another man and it triggered all the memories."

"Another man went after her?"

"No, I think it was just the fact that this man was in her mother's life, that her mother was giving all her attention to him and not to Lindsay. She said his name was Jeff and that he was working with her mom on a house, but once it burned down he left town. I'm guessing he was a contractor or someone who had something to do with a remodel in that first house fire."

"He definitely wasn't the owner, but there was construction going on at the house. So that's why the fires started five years ago," he said. "What about Rick? Were they working together?"

"She told him what she was doing, or he figured it out. Lindsay said that Rick told the agent. Sam didn't figure it out. She didn't have some clue that we didn't. Rick took her to the house to stop Lindsay. He wanted to be a hero so the fire department would take him on. But Lindsay killed him and Sam. And today she was going to kill her mother and herself. I was going to be an added bonus. She knew we were getting close. That's why she tried to take us out last night. She didn't want us to stop her before she lit her final fire." Kate paused. "The peace sign in the bookstore—she could see it from her bedroom window. She looked at it every night when her father came in."

He let out a heavy breath. "It all makes sense."

"She was hurt, and she hurt a lot of people in return." She stopped abruptly as the firefighters brought Lindsay out of the building and put her on a stretcher. She could see it wasn't good.

"Don't," Devin said, tightening his arms around her. "Don't go over there. Don't look at her."

She felt a rush of emotion. Lindsay had killed three people, had injured others, had destroyed millions of dollars in property and had had an enormously devastating impact on the lives of many people, but she'd also been a victim. She felt compassion for that little girl who had been abused, but she felt nothing for the woman who had cold-bloodedly gone out for revenge.

"I'm okay. I don't need to see her," she said, looking into his eyes. "Lindsay did this to herself, and I hope she finally found the peace she wanted." She paused. "I hope you can find peace now, too, Devin. It's over. You know the truth. And Lindsay isn't going to hurt anyone again."

He nodded, his face tight, as if he were desperately trying to hang on to his control.

He pulled her back into his arms, and she closed her eyes as she rested against his solid chest. She could hear his heart beating hard and fast. It was the most reassuring sound she'd ever heard. She wanted to stay right where she was, but the paramedics insisted on looking at her, and then Emma arrived, and one of her cousins, and her mom and dad, and the distance and people between her and Devin grew greater.

He told her to be with her family. He needed to tell the Parkers what had happened to their daughter.

She wasn't ready to say good-bye yet, but Devin was gone before she could ask him to wait. And maybe that's the way it had to be. She'd done everything she could do to help him close the case. The last of it was up to him.

* * *

Tuesday morning, Devin skipped his run and went to the cemetery just south of the city. It was a beautiful piece of land that overlooked the ocean. He put a bouquet of flowers on Sam's grave and then knelt down next to her gravestone.

"It's over, Sam. The person who killed you is dead. I know what happened now. I wish I could say that looking back I can see what we missed, where we went wrong, but I can't. Lindsay was clever. She didn't fit the profile, just as you said. I guess Rick must have told you about her before you left me that message. Anyway, Lindsay had a grudge that none of us could have figured out. Not even her mother knew what was going on in her head." He paused. "I just wish I would have been with you when Rick called you. Maybe I could have saved you. Or maybe not. You were good at your job, Sam. Hell, you were better than me. I just wish I'd gotten to you before the fire did."

He breathed through the last lingering waves of pain.

"But it's done. Justice is served. Your mom is going to be better, I think. The uncertainty and the doubts were making her life difficult, and I was to blame for that. I was the one who kept pushing for the truth. I was right, of course," he said, smiling to himself, thinking Sam was probably smiling at his cockiness—wherever she was. "But I made things harder on your family. I'm sorry about that. I hope they can heal now."

He looked out at the ocean, then back at the gravestone. "You're probably wondering what I'm going to do about Kate. I don’t know. What can I do? She has a life to lead, a life I want her to lead, because it's her dream. I can't stand in the way of her dreams."

For a moment he thought he heard Sam's voice, asking him about his dreams, but maybe that was just his subconscious talking.

"I don't know what I want anymore," he said. "For the last year and a half, it's only been about this case. I haven't thought past it. Now, I guess I have to move on. I'm going to miss you, Sam."

The wind lifted his hair, and he felt as if Sam was answering him back.

And that whimsical thought probably came from having spent way too much time with Kate and her idealistic view of life.

He stood up. "Rest in peace, sweet Sam."

He walked away from the grave and paused on the edge of the bluff, looking out on the shimmering blue water of the Pacific Ocean.

The infinite horizon opened up his head. There was a bigger world out there than the one he'd been living in.

So what was he going to do now?

Twenty-Two

"I'm not sick, Mom," Kate protested, as her mother delivered a tray of her favorite breakfast foods to her bed. She'd finally gone home after the fire the day before, and her mother had been spoiling her ever since.

"You're recovering from a traumatic event, and I get to take care of you for a little while, so suck it up."

She smiled and took a bite of the chocolate chip pancake. "Oh, my God, still as good as ever. But I feel like I'm five years old again."

"I wish you were five years old, and I could know where you were every second of the day. I could make sure you were safe."

"You have to trust that I can take care of myself, that you raised me right—which you did, by the way."