than gardening club. News of the fire had spread more quickly than the flames. Fiona’s phone had been ringing like crazy.
At the door, Mrs. Davenport turned back to him with a sudden crafty gleam in her eye. “You should probably take that plate of lemon squares over to Fiona when you leave here.”
He had to smile at her transparent maneuvering. “Thanks for stopping by, Mrs. D. I’ll be sure to let Fiona know you were thinking about her.”
With one more pat on his shoulder, she was out the door. She’d been his third grade Sunday school teacher. And when his dad had lost his job, he’d caught her leaving bags of groceries on the front porch. He would never forget her kindness. If one of the challenges in a small town was that everyone knew each other’s business, maybe that was also one of the blessings.
A haze of smoke lingered over Fiona’s cheery tables of books. It would be a while before things were completely back to normal, but Fiona would manage. She always did. She kept everyone coming to the bookstore for one activity or another, even using the empty apartment upstairs for scrapbooking. The little store was a hub of activity in their small town, with Fiona its warm center.
“Hunter, you in here?” A gruff voice called from the back room. Mickey Fitzgerald walked into The Reading Nook through Fiona’s office. The fire chief headed toward the counter, taking off his helmet and rubbing his gray hair with one flat hand. Coordinating the effort between the Fitzgerald Bay firefighters and the volunteer companies that rolled when they sounded the alarm was a complex job. But today’s effort had been successful. “Liam told me you were helping out Fiona while she’s at the hospital with Sean. Is he okay?”
“Thanks to Betsie’s and Fiona’s quick thinking, he’s going to be just fine. Can I do something for you, Chief?”
“I’d like to get your opinion on something if you have a minute.” Fiona’s uncle, still strong and fit enough that he sometimes filled in when they were short a man, was uncharacteristically subdued. “B-shift will be on tomorrow and I want you up to speed. I know the cops are going to be taking a look at this, but firefighters know fire.”
“Sure.” Hunter followed Mickey down the block and into the back door of the Sweet Shoppe, the one he’d torn down just a few hours earlier to get to Betsie.
Black sooty water dripped off every surface, the stench of smoke and fire permeating the rooms. Hunter looked around the small shop. The firefighters’ fast attack on the fire had not only saved Betsie’s life, but also saved the rest of Main Street.
Danny Fitzgerald, the fire chief’s younger son, shoveled debris onto a tarp. “Got an extra shovel on the rig for you, pal.”
Hunter looked at the shovel and then down at his hands. “Aw, gee, Danny, I would, but I just got my nails done.”
“Nice job on the door this morning.” Nate Santos looked up from where he was pulling wallboard.
Hunter walked toward the front of the shop, but looked back at the guys with a grin. “Anytime A-shift needs my help, I’m happy to oblige.”
Danny held up the shovel again.
“Except for that.”
Nate Santos elbowed Danny. “He’s too good for that kind of job now that he got promoted.”
“You got that right, Santos, but I’ve always been better than you. I’ll show you when we haul hose next week in training.” Hunter threw the words over his shoulder as he followed the chief.
“Loser buys lunch.” Santos pulled off another sheet of soggy wallboard and tossed it into the growing pile on the floor. The cooling building popped and creaked. Every surface that might hide a smoldering ember had to be breached. The ceiling tiles and wallboard were the first to go.
Hunter looked back, grinned. “Deal.”
Photographs would’ve already been taken and bits of wallboard and ceiling collected for testing. He wasn’t sure what the chief wanted him to see. Mickey Fitzgerald waved him to the ruined remains of a glass display counter, along with the A-shift officer, Liam. “Over here.”
On the surface, Hunter saw a board with melted plastic on it. Some wiring ran out of it. He glanced up at the chief, a knot of nausea settling in his stomach. “Remote detonator?”
“Yeah. And it was wedged right where there was plenty of fuel. This place went up in a hurry.”
Liam took off his gloves and tucked them under one arm. “We pulled another one of those from the crawl space above the storeroom. There was some insulation up there that kept it smoldering, which is why that side of the shop burned slower. All in all, they were lucky to get out with their lives.”
Hunter tried to keep his mind on the rational, keep the emotional out of it. But they were talking about a six-year-old boy. “The arsonist could’ve called from anywhere. I’m sure these are burner phones, but we can try to get serial numbers off them and find out what we can from the call logs.”
The chief nodded and pulled another evidence bag from his pocket. “This one came from the Sugar Plum.”
The setup was the same, but it wasn’t as melted because the fire at the inn last month hadn’t burned as hot. The sick feeling intensified.
Hunter reached for the board and turned the phone on its side. He found what he was looking for. He didn’t know this arsonist’s name, but he knew the signature—a curl in the wire leading to the vibrating electrode in the side of the phone.
It was the signature of an arsonist who had killed before. Brother, father, cousin, husband. This same arsonist had taken the life of firefighter Jimmy Cobb.
Anger iced into determination. The killer had gotten away once.
But not again. New evidence, new chance for Hunter to bring in this criminal. Hunter wouldn’t rest until this guy was behind bars where he belonged.
TWO
“I got six stitches in my arm.” Sean pulled his pajama top over his head and climbed into his fire-engine bed. “Jordan B. only got four stitches in his foot when he kicked that nail.”
“Very impressive. Is that what you’re going to show your class tomorrow in show-and-tell?” Fiona pulled up the covers to his chin, sheets covered with little fire hats and cute floppy-eared Dalmatians. Sheets that had been picked for a little boy with a firefighter daddy. They matched his fire-engine-red walls. “Or are you going with one of your Lego creations again?”
“I want to take Hunter and Liam for show-and-tell.”
She stopped in the motion of tucking his favorite stuffed elephant under the covers with him. “Hunter and Liam? Why?”
“Because Hunter rescued Miss Betsie and Liam helped me after the fire.” He gave her a look that said, duh, why do you think? “They’re heroes.”
“I see your point.” She tickled his chin and he giggled as she turned out the light and then remembered something from the fire that she’d been meaning to ask him. “Sean, why did Hunter call you L.J. today?”
“He calls me that
