“No sense letting a perfectly good fire go to waste.”
Over the years, of necessity, he had learned to cook. Round-the-clock shifts at the firehouse gave him plenty of time to learn the craft. He was famous for his fluffy pancakes, and his savory beef stew had once won a fire district prize. For someone who’d once expected to be drafted by a pro baseball team, firefighting was an unusual career choice. And for a single stepfather, it was risky, but for Will, it wasn’t even a choice. It was a calling. Years ago, he had discovered that rescuing people was what he did best, and risking himself was simply part of the job. And when it came to keeping himself safe, Aurora—his heart—was more powerful than body armor. Failing to come home to her was not an option.
With the burgers sizzling on the grill, he and Aurora worked side by side, putting together a macaroni salad. She chattered about school with the kind of breathless urgency only a seventh grade girl could convey. Each day was packed with drama, rife with intrigue, romance, betrayal, heroism, mystery. According to Aurora, it all happened in the course of a typical day.
Will tried to follow the convoluted saga of someone’s text message sent to the wrong phone, but he was preoccupied. He kept mulling over the barn fire, trying to figure out why it had been set, and who had done it.
“Dad. Dad.”
“What?”
“You aren’t even listening. Geez.”
She was getting too good at catching him. When she was little, she didn’t notice him zoning out. Now that she was older, she had a well-developed sense of when she was being ignored.
“Sorry,” he said. “Thinking about a fire today. That’s why I nearly missed picking you up at the bus this afternoon.”
She quickly turned, took a jar of mustard from the refrigerator and set it on the table. “What fire?”
“A barn up on one of the branch roads. Deliberately set.”
She carefully folded a pair of napkins, her small hands working with brisk efficiency. “By who?”
“Good question.”
“So are you, like, totally clueless?”
“Hardly. There are tons of clues.”
“Like what?”
“Footprints. A gas can. And some other stuff I can’t talk about until the arson investigator finishes his report.”
“You can tell me, Dad.”
“Nope.”
“What, don’t you trust me?”
“I trust you completely.”
“Then tell me.”
“No,” he said again. “This is my job, honey. I take it a hundred percent seriously. You heard anything?” He glanced at her. Kids at school talked. Arsonists were proud of the work they did, and typically enjoyed a sense of notoriety. They could never keep quiet about anything for long.
“Of course not,” she said.
“What do you mean, of course not?” He slid two SPAM burgers onto grilled buns and brought them to the table.
“I mean, you’re assuming someone at school would actually talk to me.” She spoke flippantly, almost jokingly, but Will sensed real pain beneath the remark.
“People talk to you,” he said.
She neatly tiled her burger with a layer of pickle slices. “And you would know.”
“What about Edie and Glynnis?” he asked, naming her two best friends. “You talk to them all the time.”
“Edie’s busy with her church group and Glynnis is all freaked out lately because her mom’s dating Gloria.”
“Why is she freaked out?”
“Come on, Dad. I mean, when it’s your own mom…” She wrinkled her nose. “Kids don’t like their parents dating anyone.”
He glowered at her. “Present company included, I assume.”
“Hey, if you want to go out with some woman—or some guy, even—don’t let me stop you.”
“Right.” Will knew she had a million tricks up her sleeve for keeping him from dating. Given the roughness of her early years, her clinginess was understandable. No big deal for the time being, though. He wasn’t seeing anyone.
“Maybe I set the fire,” she suggested. “Out of boredom.”
“Don’t even joke about that.”
“My life’s a joke. And I am bored. Edie and Glynnis live too far away. I don’t have a single friend right here in Glenmuir.”
He pictured her at the big glass-and-brick school, a long bus ride into alien territory. Only a handful of kids lived in Glenmuir, but naively he had hoped she would make other friends and head into high school with a bigger peer group. “Hey, I grew up here, too. I know it can be hard.”
“Sure, Dad.” The look she gave him spoke volumes. She poured warm tomato soup over the burger, then centered the top bun on it. She took a large bite and slowly chewed. Despite her delicate beauty, her fingernails were lined with dirt.
Will knew instinctively that now would be a bad time to make her wash her hands. Lately, he wasn’t so hot at reading her mercurial moods, but he knew that much. He had practically made a career out of reading parenting books, even though they all seemed to give conflicting advice. One thing they agreed on was that rebellion stemmed from a need to escape parental control, running up against a need for boundaries and limits. Not that it made dealing with a thirteen-year-old any easier.
“What, you think I had it made?” he asked.
“Hello? Granny and Grandpa told me pretty much your life story. Including the fact that you were this big basketball and baseball star, and a straight-A student.”
He grinned. “In their totally objective opinion. Did they tell you I used to bike to school instead of taking the bus because I was scared of being picked on?”
“Like that’s supposed to make me feel better?” She ate methodically, without a single wasted movement.
He was grateful to see her eating. According to the reading he’d done, Aurora was definitely at risk for an eating disorder. She fit the profile perfectly—beautiful, intelligent, driven to succeed…and a loner with self-esteem issues. Abandonment issues, too, given her history.
“How about we discuss things you can do to be happier at school?” he suggested.
“Sure, Dad,” she said, stabbing her fork into the macaroni salad. “I could try out for the cheerleading squad or the chess club.”
“Either one would be lucky to get you,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, lucky them.”
“Damn,
