and rushed to join Caleb and their mom in the neighbor’s yard. Caleb had his arm around their mother’s shoulders, and she’d sunk against his side, an unusual posture for one who liked to stand firmly on her own two feet. The heavy smell of smoke curled through the air, but no matter how Tricia squinted against the western sun, the house looked intact. In fact, there weren’t many firefighters in the front yard.
“Are you okay?”
The petite woman tipped her chin up, brown eyes flashing. “Of course. Some kid decided the garage made a good fire-starter.”
“Where’s Frank?” Tricia’s stepfather usually rushed to his wife’s side anytime she whimpered or looked a little cross. Tricia couldn’t fault his devotion to her mom.
“At work. He wanted to come home, but I told him not to hurry. It’s a small fire.” A tremble in Mom’s voice belied her strong front.
“From Caleb’s call I thought the flames had engulfed the house.”
Mom poked him in the ribs. “I told you not to make a big deal.”
“A fire is never small.” He rubbed his side with a frown. “The wind blows in the wrong direction, and the outcome could change. It almost reached the house.”
“But it didn’t. Relax.”
“Sure.” Caleb grimaced over her at Tricia. “We’ll never worry about you when panic fills your voice. Fires are everyday occurrences.”
“You can’t protect everyone.” Even as she said the words, Tricia knew he wouldn’t accept them.
“You believe that?” He rolled his eyes. “Sure. That’s why you’re a prosecutor.”
“Someone has to do it.” Tricia grinned at him. She’d had a lifetime to perfect the art of poking his weak spots. Tell Caleb he couldn’t take care of everyone, and he bristled like a porcupine. Good thing she was a pro at sidestepping his quills.
“All right, you two. You can bicker all you want inside. I want to get out of this yard before we trample the Johnsons’ grass. You know how fastidious George is.” Mom tugged his sleeve until Caleb joined her.
A couple of firefighters turned the corner from the backyard into the front. One pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through smooshed hair, sweat streaking his face. He caught Tricia’s glance and grimaced. Her heart stopped, and she took a shuddering breath. Noah Brust. In the flesh, and looking even better in his turnout coat with soot on his face than he had the last time she’d seen him in the courtroom.
“Mrs. Randol?” His voice was low, with a rich timbre to it. It tickled her senses, and her stomach tightened, even though the man ignored her.
“Yes,” her mother answered.
“I’m Noah Brust with the Lincoln Fire Department. We’ve contained the fire. The shed will be a total loss, but we kept it from the house.”
Mom put a trembling hand to her mouth, then nodded. “Thank you. We’ll replace the things in the shed. Frank will probably enjoy the excuse to buy more tools.”
“Investigator Caleb Jamison, LPD.” Caleb extended his hand, and the firefighter shook it. “This is my sister, Tricia Jamison.”
Noah turned a blank expression her way. “We’ve met.”
Tricia nodded, searching for a hint of emotion on his face. Even anger seemed better than the nothingness he registered when looking at her. Instead, he wore a look of schooled indifference. This from the rugged fireman who’d almost swept her off her feet when she’d prepped him for his testimony during the Lincoln Life fire trial a year before. Despite the attraction that zinged between them, he’d made it clear at the close of his testimony that he wanted nothing to do with her.
She stifled the urge to grab his collar and force him to acknowledge her. Mom threw her a questioning look, and Tricia shook her head. Now was not the time to explain.
“Any clues on how the fire started?” Caleb pulled her attention back to the fire.
Noah focused on Caleb. “The captain will likely call in the fire investigation team. Until they work their magic I can guess at a cause, but that’s it. We’ll keep an eye on the fire while we clean up. We’ll leave only when we’re sure the fire’s out, but it’s safe to go inside your home now.”
“Thank you.” Mom pulled the collar of her jacket tight around her throat against the October wind as she hurried toward the house.
Heat climbed Tricia’s face, and she turned to find Noah watching her. “Thanks for helping Mom.”
“You’re welcome.”
She fought the urge to rub her arms, try to generate some warmth against the chill emanating from him. “You’re still angry about the Lincoln Life case? I did everything the law allowed.”
His blue eyes, which had so captured her attention before, had frosted over. Noah snorted and shook his head. “Thanks to you, I read a dozen articles accusing my father—one of the best firefighters I’ve ever known—of negligence in his duties.” His voice rose with each word. “He died a hero, but you didn’t raise a finger to stop them from slandering him at the trial.”
She looked around for a way to escape the barrage of angry words. “I’m sorry you don’t appreciate the rules of court and their limitations. And don’t forget, we won.” Tricia turned at the sound of more cars pulling into the cul-de-sac. The Channel 13 Jeep jerked into park as Caleb reappeared at her shoulder.
“You okay, sis?” Caleb furrowed his brow until the eyebrows merged.
“Fine. I’ll be there in a minute, Caleb.” She turned to Firefighter Brust and twisted her lips into what she hoped passed for a smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to protect you and your father. Now, if you don’t want to create another scene worthy of the papers, let me pass. The media have arrived.” She tipped her chin, pushed past him and marched to Caleb’s side. “Let’s go inside now, please.”
Tricia refused to look back as Caleb hurried her into the house. She tried to ignore the tremble in her limbs when she sat on the couch next to her mother.
“Anything you need to tell me?” Caleb stood in front of her in full big brother mode.
“An unpleasant reminder of a case from last year.”
“Looked like more.”
“No.” Tricia shook her head. “He thinks I didn’t do my job. There’s nothing I can do to change his mind. If I’m lucky, I won’t run into him again.”
Today had been a fluke. That’s all.
Then why did the pain hiding in his cold eyes cut so?
Noah watched the media park on the cul-de-sac. He stood straight and prepared for the onslaught. “The vultures descend.”
Graham Jackson groaned and yanked his helmet off. “Come on, man. Hold it together.”
“You’re
