Night Smoke (10 page)

“I’m all right.” She dropped her hands, let her head fall back against the cushion. Now that the sickness was passing, fear was creeping in. “It seemed so fast, so horribly fast. Are you sure it’s out?”

“It’s my job to be sure.” Frowning, he caught her chin, his eyes narrowing as he studied her face. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I don’t need a damn hospital.” In a bad-tempered movement, she shoved at him. Then gasped when she saw his hands. “Ry, your hands!” She grabbed his wrists. “You’re burned!”

He glanced down. There were a few welts, some reddening. “Nothing major.”

Reaction set in with shudders. “You were on fire, I saw your jacket catch fire.”

“It was an old jacket. Stop,” he ordered when tears swam in her eyes, overflowed. “Don’t.” If he hated one thing more than fire, it was a woman’s tears. He swore and crushed his mouth to hers, hoping that would stop the flood.

Her arms came hard around him, surprising him with their strength and urgency. But her mouth trembled beneath his, moving him to gentle the kiss. To soothe.

“Better?” he murmured, and stroked her hair.

“I’m all right,” she said again, willing herself to believe it. “There should be a first-aid kit in the storeroom. You need to put something on your hands.”

“It’s no big deal….” he began, but she shoved away from him and rose.

“I have to do something. Damn it, I have to do something.”

She dashed off. Baffled by her, Ry stood and moved to relock the door. He needed to go up again and ventilate the office, but he wanted her out of the way before he made a preliminary investigation. He tugged off his tie, loosened his collar.

“There’s some salve in here.” Steadier now, Natalie came back in with a small first-aid kit.

“Fine.” Deciding tending to him would do her some good, he sat back and let her play nurse. He had to admit the cool balm and her gentle fingers didn’t do him any harm, either.

“You’re lucky it isn’t worse. It was insane, just walking into that room.”

He cocked a brow. “You’re welcome.”

She looked up at him then. His face was smeared from the smoke, his eyes were reddened from it. “I am grateful,” she said quietly. “Very grateful. But it was just things, Ry. Just things.” She looked away again, busying herself replacing the tube of salve. “I guess I owe you a new suit.”

“I hate suits.” He shifted uncomfortably when he heard her quick, unsteady sob. “Don’t cry again. If you really want to thank me, don’t cry.”

“All right.” She sniffed inelegantly and rubbed her hands over her face. “I was so scared.”

“It’s over.” He gave her hand an awkward pat. “Will you be all right for a minute? I want to go up and open the window. The smoke needs a way to escape.”

“I’ll come—”

“No, you won’t. Sit here.” He rose again, put a firm hand on her shoulder. “Please stay here.”

He turned and left her. Natalie used the time he was gone to compose herself. And to think. When he came back down, she was sitting with her hands folded in her lap.

“It was the same as the warehouse, wasn’t it?” She lifted her gaze to his. “The way it was set. We can’t pretend it was a coincidence.”

“Yes,” he said. “It was the same. And no, we can’t. We’ll talk about this later. I’ll drive you home.”

“I’m—”

The words slid back down her throat when he dragged her roughly to her feet. “If you tell me one
more time that you’re all right, I’m going to punch you. You’re sick, you’re scared, and you sucked in smoke. Now this is the way we’re going to work this. I’m driving you home. We’ll report this on the phone in that snazzy car of yours. You’re going to go to bed, and tomorrow you’re going to see a doctor. Once you check out, we’ll go from there.”

“Stop yelling at me.”

“I wouldn’t have to yell if you’d listen.” He grabbed her coat. “Put this on.”

“This is my property. I have a right to be here.”

“Well, I’m taking you out.” He shoved her arm into the sleeve of her coat. “If you don’t like it, call your fancy lawyers and sue me.”

“There’s no reason for you to take this attitude.”

He started to swear, stopped himself. As a precaution, he took one slow breath. “Natalie, I’m tired.” His voice was quiet now, nearly reasonable. “I’ve got a job to do here, and I can’t do it if you’re in my way. So cooperate. Please.”

He was right, she knew he was right. She turned away, picked up her purse. “Keep my car. I’ll arrange to have it picked up tomorrow.”

“I appreciate it.”

She gave him the car keys and the keys to the shop. “I’ll be here tomorrow, Ry.”

“I figured you would.” He lifted a hand and rubbed his knuckles along her jawline. “Hey—try not to worry. I’m the best.”

She nearly smiled. “So I’ve been told.”

*  *  *

It was nearly eight the following morning when the cab dropped Natalie off in front of Lady’s Choice. She noted, without surprise, that her car was out front, a fire-department sign visible through the windshield.

Instead of bothering with the buzzer, she used the spare set of keys she’d picked up that morning at the office and let herself in.

She couldn’t smell the smoke. That was a relief. She’d spent a great deal of time during the night worrying and calculating the possible losses if the stock already in place had been damaged by smoke.

The first floor looked as pristine and elegant as it had the night before. If Ry gave her the go-ahead, she’d contact her manager and reestablish business as usual.

She took off her coat and gloves and started upstairs.

*  *  *

For Ry, it had been a long and productive night. He’d stopped in at the station after he dropped Natalie off, to change and to pick up his tools. He’d worked alone through the night—the way he preferred it. He was just sealing an evidence jar when she walked in.

“Good morning, Legs.” Crouched on the floor amid the rubble, he didn’t bother to look past them.

She scanned the room, sighed. The carpet was a blackened mess. Charred pieces of wood trim had been pried from the sooty walls and lay scattered. The elegant Queen Anne desk was blackened and scored, and the Irish-lace drapes were a heap of useless rags.

Despite the open window where the light wind shook in thin snow, the air stank with stale smoke.

“Why does it always look worse the next day?”

“It’s not so bad. A little paint, new trim.”

She ran a fingertip over the wallpaper, the violet-and-rosebud pattern she’d chosen personally. Ruined now, she thought.

“Easy for you to say.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, labeling the evidence jar. “I guess it is.”

He glanced up then. Today she’d scooped her hair up. The style appealed to him, the way it showed off the line of her neck and jaw. This morning’s suit was royal purple, military in style. It looked, he
thought, as though the lady were ready for a fight.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Surprisingly well, all in all.” Except for one bone-chilling nightmare she didn’t want to mention. “You?”

He hadn’t been to bed at all, and merely shrugged. “Have you called your adjuster?”

“I will, as soon as his office opens.” Her voice cooled automatically. “Are you going to interview me again, Inspector?”

Annoyance flared briefly in his eyes. “I don’t think that’s necessary, do you?” He began to replace his tools in their box. “I’ll have a report by tomorrow.”

She closed her eyes a moment. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you, Ry. I’m just angry.”

“Fair enough.”

“Can you—?” She broke off, turning quickly at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. “Gage.” She forced a smile, held out her hands when he walked in.

“I heard.” With one quick glance, he took in the damage. “I thought I’d come by and see if there was anything I could do.”

“Thanks.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek before she turned back to Ry. He was still crouched—very much, she thought, intrigued, like an animal about to spring. “Gage Guthrie, Inspector Ryan Piasecki.”

“I’ve heard you do good work.”

After a moment, Ry straightened and accepted the hand Gage offered. “I’ve heard the same about you.” Feeling territorial, Ry measured the man as he spoke to Natalie. “Are you two pals?”

“That’s right. And a bit more.” She watched, fascinated, as Ry’s eyes kindled. “If you can follow the connections, Gage is married to my brother’s wife’s sister.”

The fire banked; Ry’s shoulders relaxed. “Extended family.”

“In a manner of speaking.” Judging the situation quickly and accurately, Gage decided to do a little
checking on the inspector himself. “Are you looking at the same fire starter here?”

“We’re not ready to release that information.”

“He’s got his official hat on,” Natalie said dryly. “Unofficially,” she continued, ignoring Ry’s scowl, “it looks the same. When we came in last night—”

“You were here?” Gage interrupted her, gripping Natalie’s arm. “You?”

“I had a few things I wanted to check on. Fortunately.” Blowing out a breath, she took another scan of the room. “It could have been a lot worse. I happened to have a veteran firefighter along.”

Gage relaxed fractionally. “You’ve got no business going around the city alone, at night.”

“Yeah.” Ry took out a cigarette. “You try to tell her.”

Natalie merely lifted a brow. “Do you go around the city, Gage, alone? At night?”

He tucked his tongue in his cheek. If she only knew. “It’s entirely different. And don’t give me a lecture on equality,” he went on, before she could speak. “I’m all for it. In the home, in the workplace. But on the street it comes down to basic common sense. A woman’s more of a target.”

“Mmm, hmm …” Natalie smiled pleasantly. “And does Deborah buy that line from you?”

Now his lips did curve. “No. She’s every bit as hard-headed as you.” Frustrated that he’d been on the other side of town when Nat needed him, Gage tucked his hands in his pockets. “If I can’t do anything else, I can offer you any of the facilities or staff of Guthrie International.”

“I’ll take you up on that if it becomes necessary.” She sent him a quick, hopeful look. “I don’t suppose you could use your influence to keep your wife from calling my brother and Cilla and relating all of this?”

He patted her cheek. “Not a chance. Maybe I should mention that she talked to Althea last week and filled her in on what happened at the warehouse.”

Giving in to fatigue, Natalie rubbed her temples. Althea Grayson, her brother’s former partner on the force, was very pregnant. “I’m surrounded by cops,” she muttered. “There’s no reason to get Althea upset in her condition. She and Colt should be concentrating on each other.”

“It’s a problem when you have so many people who care about you. Stay out of empty buildings,” Gage added, and kissed her. “Nice to meet you, Inspector.”

“Yeah. See you.”

“Give Deborah and Addy my love,” Natalie said as she walked Gage to the doorway. “And stop worrying about me.”

“I’ll do the first, but not the second.”

“Who’s Addy?” Ry asked before he heard the downstairs door close behind Gage.

“Hmmm? Oh, their baby.” Distracted, she circled around a charred hole in the carpet to examine her antique filing cabinets. It was some consolation to see that they were undamaged. “I really need to clear this up, Ry. Too many people are losing sleep.”

“You’ve got a lot of close ties.” He walked to the open window and put out his cigarette. “I can’t make this work any faster to please them. Just take your friend’s advice. Stay off the streets at night and out of empty buildings.”

“I don’t want advice. I want answers. Someone broke in here last night and tried to burn me out. How and why?”

“Okay, Ms. Fletcher, I can give you the how.” Ry leaned a hip against the partially burned desk. “On the night of February twenty-sixth, a fire was discovered by Inspector Piasecki, and Natalie Fletcher, owner of the building.”

“Ry …”

He held up a hand to stop her. “After entering the building, Piasecki and Fletcher started up to the second floor when Piasecki detected the odor of an accelerant, and smoke. Piasecki then ordered Fletcher to flee the building. An order, I might add, that she stupidly ignored. Finding an extinguisher in the storeroom, Piasecki proceeded to the fire, which had involved an office on the second floor. Streamers of paper, clothing and matchbooks were observed. The fire was extinguished without extensive damage.”

“I’m very aware of that particular sequence of events.”

“You wanted a report, you’re getting one. An examination of the debris led the investigator to believe that the fire had been started approximately two feet inside the door, with the use of gasoline as an accelerant. No forced entry into the building could be determined by the inspector, or the police department. Arson is indicated.”

She took a careful breath. “You’re angry with me.”

“Yeah, I’m angry with you. You’re pushing me, Natalie, and yourself. You want this all tidied up, because people are worried about you, and you’re concerned with selling your pantyhose on time. And you’re missing one small, very important detail.”

“No, I’m not.” She was pale again, and rigid. “I’m trying not to be frightened by it. It isn’t difficult to add the elements and come up with the fact that someone is doing this to me deliberately. Two of my buildings within two weeks. I’m not a fool, Ry.”

“You’re a fool if you’re not frightened by it. You’ve got an enemy. Who?”

“I don’t know,” she shot back. “If I did, don’t you think I’d tell you? You’ve just told me there was no forced entry. That means someone I know, someone who works for me, could have gotten in here and started the fire.”

“It’s a torch.”

“Excuse me?”

“A pro,” Ry explained. “Not a very good one, but a pro. Somebody hired a torch to set the fires. It could be that somebody let him in, or he found a way to bypass your security. But he didn’t finish the job here, so it’s likely he’ll hit you again.”

She forced back a shudder. “That’s comforting. That’s very comforting.”

“I don’t want you to be comforted. I want you to be alert. How many people work for you?”

“At Lady’s Choice?” Frazzled, she pushed at her hair. “Around six hundred, I think, in Urbana.”