Read Playing With Fire Online

Authors: Gail Anderson-Dargatz

Tags: #ebook, #FIC022040, #FIC031010, #FIC031070

Playing With Fire (4 page)

EIGHT

T
revor caught up with me as I watched Matt drive away. Behind him, the fire chief and his crew cleaned up after the fire.

“Did I just ruin your date?” Trevor asked. He grinned sideways, like he was okay with that.

“No,” I said. “Things went sour before you got here.”

He held me gently by the shoulders. “I know for a fact we’ll have a lot more fun tomorrow night,” he told me. He held my gaze to make it clear what he had in mind. I turned away, blushing.

That’s when I saw her. The redhead, Devon’s girlfriend, watched us from the corner of the next building. Kayla put a finger to her lips, telling me to keep quiet. Then she waved me over. She disappeared behind the building so no one else would see her.

“Trevor,” I said. “You mind giving me a minute? I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” he said. “Where are you going?”

“Following up on a hunch,” I told him.

I walked to the next building and looked around. Kayla stood in front of the gas station across the street, hugging herself. She waved me over again.

When I reached her, she looked around nervously. The smoke from the bin fire still hung above the restaurant building. “Did anyone follow you?” she said.

I looked back with her. I couldn’t see Trevor or the crowd from where I stood.
The next building was in the way. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Good.”

“Why would anyone follow me?” I asked. “What’s going on?” When she didn’t answer, I demanded, “What’s this about?”

“Devon couldn’t have started that fire, could he?” she asked.

“No, he’s in custody. The cops locked him up in a cell at the police station.”

“So who
did
set it?”

“I don’t know.” I paused. “Did you?”

“Would I be talking to you, a reporter, if I did?”

“I don’t know, Kayla. I did see you holding a jerry can at the last fire.”

“In a vision,” she said.

“Yes, in a vision. But you are here, at this fire.”

“I didn’t start this fire,” Kayla told me. “I didn’t start the fire at the hardware store.
Neither did Devon. He hasn’t started any of these fires.”

“Then who did?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“You can’t tell me, or you won’t?”

She looked away, caught. “I’m just saying you’ve got to keep looking into this,” she said. “The arsonist is still out there. He’ll keep setting fires in town until someone gets hurt.”

“You know exactly who started those fires, don’t you?”

Kayla bit her thumbnail but didn’t answer.


Is
it you?”

“No!” Kayla cried. “It’s not me and it’s not Devon. You can’t let him go to prison for this.”

“If someone else is responsible for these fires, you need to tell me who he is. If not me, then tell the chief. He cares about Devon.”

She shook her head. “The chief would never believe me.”

“If you saw someone start a fire, why didn’t you use your cell phone to take a photo of him?”

“You don’t understand,” she said. “I can’t be the one—” She didn’t finish her sentence. Her attention was caught by something behind me. I looked back. Trevor strode toward us. “I’ve got to go,” said Kayla. With that, she turned and fled.

“Wait!” I tried running after Kayla, but I was wearing heels. She wasn’t. I watched her run away down the snowy street.

Trevor caught up to me. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure. Kayla was just here. She told me Devon didn’t set those fires. Then she just ran off.”

“You know what I think?” he asked. “You were right about Kayla. She started all these fires, and Devon is covering for her.

“She says someone else is responsible.”

“Of course she would say that,” said Trevor. “She’s lying to protect herself.”

“Then why doesn’t she just let Devon take the blame?”

Trevor shrugged. “They’ve been dating for a while. She must care for him. I suppose she doesn’t want to see him hurt.”

“I don’t know,” I said. My instincts told me there was more going on. But what?

Trevor and I walked back to the restaurant and watched the firefighters roll up the hoses. Fire Chief Wallis joined us. “This fire was definitely arson,” Jim said. “I thought we’d licked this thing.”

“Well, we know Devon didn’t start
this
fire,” Trevor said to him. “He’s in custody.”

“Must be a copycat arsonist,” the chief said. “Some other kid is starting fires now.”

“I don’t think so,” Trevor said. “I know Devon didn’t start those other fires. I don’t care what he says. He’s covering for someone.
Someone
close
.” He let his accusation hang there.

“His girlfriend, Kayla?” Jim asked.

“I just saw Kayla over at the gas station,” I told the chief. “She claims someone else is responsible.”

Trevor shook his head. “No. I’m sure Kayla started those fires. She was here tonight, wasn’t she?”

“Kayla’s fingerprints
were
on that jerry can at the hardware store,” Jim said.

“I’m betting Devon’s fingerprints were
not
on that gas can,” Trevor said.

The chief looked surprised. “How did you know?”

“I asked around today,” Trevor said. “The manager at the hardware store said he saw Devon running down the street toward the fire
after
our trucks got there.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” said the chief. “He could have set the fire and left, to avoid suspicion. Then he came back to
watch the fire. The firebug has done just that at each of these fires.”

“I
know
Devon would never start a fire like that. Like I said, he’s trying to protect Kayla.”

Jim took off his firefighter’s helmet. “Trevor, I don’t want to believe Devon did this any more than you do. But he admitted to starting the fires.” He turned to me. “And you said you saw him at those fires in your visions.”

“I know. But now I’m not so sure he started them.”

“You said you saw Kayla in your last vision,” said Trevor. “You said she started the fire, remember?”

“I only saw her holding that jerry can.”

“I
know
Devon is covering for someone,” said Trevor. “And like you said, Kayla’s fingerprints are on that jerry can, not Devon’s.”

“Maybe the firebug isn’t either of them,” I said. “Maybe the arsonist is someone else entirely.”

Jim looked fed up with me. “You hold Devon’s glove and get a vision,” he told me. “You’re sure he started the fire. Then you get another vision and you’re sure Kayla is the arsonist. Now you think the firebug is someone else? Who?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Well, when you figure it out, you let me know. I don’t want to see an innocent kid go to jail. Especially a great kid like Devon.”

I looked up at Trevor. “Me neither,” I said. “I feel responsible for this mess. I’ve got to find a way to prove Devon is innocent.”

“How, exactly?” said Trevor. “With your visions?” His impatience stung me, but I let it go. I imagined he was much more worried about Devon than he let on.

“Maybe,” I said. In my visions, I had only seen bits and pieces of what happened. Clearly, I didn’t understand what I had seen. I knew only one person who had the experience to help me sort this all out.

NINE

M
om’s driveway was full of cars the next morning. I knew she was teaching yoga, so I didn’t bother to knock. She wouldn’t answer the door when she had a class in session.

As soon as I stepped into her kitchen, I was greeted by soothing music. Her living room was filled with seniors standing on their yoga mats. All of them were touching their toes in the same yoga pose.

“Claire!” Mom said when I entered the room. She was still bent over. “What are
you doing here?” Her face looked strange upside down.

I turned my head to look at her. “Um, can we talk?”

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” she said.

I pointed a thumb at the kitchen, trying to get her to come with me. “It’s important,” I said.

Mom slowly rose and held out both arms in Warrior pose. The elderly women all followed her lead. “We can talk now,” Mom said.

“I need to talk to you
alone,
” I said.

“We’re all friends here, aren’t we, ladies?”

The seniors murmured in agreement and switched poses on Mom’s cue. All of them wore snazzy yoga outfits. Mom’s was black and yellow. She looked a little like a bumblebee.

“But it’s about that thing we do,” I whispered. I waved a hand in a circle. “You know,
the
thing
.” I meant the premonitions both Mom and I had—our second sight.

Mom got it. “The ladies know about our visions, dear,” she said.

“They do?” I scanned the group. “You
told
them?”

“It’s all right,” Mom said. “You can talk freely.”

I shook my head at my own attempt to hide my “secret.” What did it matter? The whole town knew about my visions now.

“I’ve been working with the fire chief on that string of fires,” I told Mom. “We’ve been trying to track down the arsonist.”

“Oh, good for you!” Mom said. “Somebody has to catch that kid before anyone gets hurt.”

“A boy was arrested for setting the fires.”

“So what’s the problem?” Mom asked me.

“My visions are giving me mixed messages about who the firebug is. One minute
they tell me one thing. The next, they tell me something else.”

“Your hunches and those visions can only point you in a direction,” she said. “You still have to figure things out for yourself.”

“I know,” I said. I’d learned that one the hard way.

“It’s so easy to misinterpret what you see in those visions,” she said. “I often completely misunderstand the images I see.”

“I sure know about that,” I said. “I thought I saw Devon setting those fires. Then I thought I saw Kayla. Now I’m not sure it was either of them.”

I rubbed my forehead with the palm of my hand. “What good are these visions if they leave me so damn confused?”

“We often have trouble seeing what’s right in front of us,” said Mom. “I had no idea your father was having an affair with that waitress at Tommy’s Café. I picked
up his socks from the floor every day, and I never once had a vision of him with that woman.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” I said.

“Have you chosen yet?”

“You mean, have I decided who the firebug is?”

“No, between Matt and Trevor. Have you chosen your man?”

“I had dinner with Matt last night,” I said. “Well, at least until the garbage bin behind the restaurant caught on fire.” I brightened. “I’m having dinner with Trevor tonight.”

“You’re going to lose them both,” Mom warned.

“I’m just dating them,” I said, “trying them on for size.”

“Matt and Trevor are men, not shoes,” Mom scolded. “You don’t need to try them on.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll make a choice,” I said. “
After
I catch this firebug.”

“I just hope that’s not too late,” Mom warned me. “Matt is a good catch.”

“So is Trevor.”

Mom grunted. Obviously, she had made her choice for me. She liked Matt, not Trevor. Her opinion made me want to date Trevor even more.

“I should get going,” I said. “Sorry to interrupt your class.” I turned to leave.

“Claire,” Mom said, stopping me. I looked back. “Sounds like you have two people who do know who that firebug is.”

“I already talked to Devon’s girlfriend, Kayla. She won’t tell me who the arsonist is even to save Devon from jail.”

“Then perhaps you need to talk to Devon.”

TEN

I
went to the police station every morning to pick up the report on crimes from the night before, if there were any. I used that to write stories about break-ins and thefts. So I knew all the police officers. It didn’t take much convincing for them to give me a few minutes with Devon.

Devon sat on the top bunk of his cell. I watched Officer Banks slide the cell door closed behind me. I looked around and tried not to touch anything. The bottom mattress of the bunk appeared deeply stained. The cell smelled like puke.

“What are you doing here?” Devon asked.

“My question is, what are you doing here?”

“I think you know the answer to that.” He was pissed with me. I was the one who had accused Kayla of arson and forced him to confess.

“I want to know who really set those fires,” I said.

“Me,” said Devon. But he wouldn’t look me in the eye as he said it. I knew he was lying.

“Devon, I think you’re covering for someone.” I paused, trying to word things carefully. The chief was right. I couldn’t go around making accusations anymore, not until I had proof. Still, maybe if I got Devon mad, he’d spill something. “I saw Kayla at the bin fire behind the restaurant,” I told him.

“Kayla didn’t start that fire!” Devon said. “I keep telling you. I swear, it wasn’t Kayla.
She would never set fires. She’s, like, all about volunteering. She works at the animal shelter.”

I held out both hands. “Okay, okay,” I said. “But it wasn’t you either, was it? You didn’t set those fires.”

Devon hung his head but didn’t answer.

“The question is, who did? And why would you take the heat for something you didn’t do?”

“Maybe I have my reasons.” He looked back down, at his feet.

All at once, I understood what was going on. I had held Devon’s glove when I first got a vision of the arsonist starting the fire. Devon had been there. I had seen Kayla with the jerry can. She had been there too. But now I understood
why
they had both been there. It wasn’t to start the fire. They were trying to stop it.

Like Mom said, so often you can’t see what’s right in front of you.

I called for one of the cops to let me out of the cell. Then I turned to Devon before leaving. “I got you into this,” I said. “I’m going to get you out.”

My first stop was Tommy’s Café. The chief was there with a couple of the volunteer firefighters.

“Hey Claire,” he said. “What’s up?”

I paused, unsure what to tell the chief. “I know for certain Devon and Kayla didn’t start those fires,” I said.

“Got proof?”

“No.”

“Got some idea who
did
start them?”

I did, but I wouldn’t name him. Not yet. “I assume that if I were to get a photo of the firebug setting a fire, you would believe me.”

“Of course,” Jim said.

“Then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll catch the arsonist in the act.”

“How will you know where he’s going to set the next fire, or when?” Jim asked. “Did you see something in your visions?” He paused. “You’re not seeing into the future now, are you?”

One of the other firefighters, Bruce, smirked. “You start seeing the future, you give me some lottery numbers to play,” he said. The other men laughed. I was sure that wasn’t the first joke they had told at my expense.

I shook my head. “I didn’t get anything useful from my visions,” I said. “I’m not sure when or where the firebug will strike next. But I do think I know someone who does.”

At noon, I figured I’d find Kayla at Munchies, a coffee shop. It was a local hangout for
college kids. I was right. She was in the lineup, waiting for her coffee. She backed away when she saw me, like she was about to bolt again. But I was standing in front of the door.

I held out my hand to calm her. “Kayla,” I said, “I’ve just come to talk.”

She looked around at her friends. “Not here,” she said.

“No, not here.” I waved her outside. “Come on.”

Once we were on the sidewalk, she eyed me suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“Look, I know who really started all those fires,” I told her.

Her eyes lit up, hopeful. “For real?”

“I know you and Devon were at those fires to stop him. You’ve both been watching him, haven’t you? You’ve been trying to protect the town. I also know why you both ran when I tried to question you. You’ve been trying to protect the firebug too.”

Kayla looked down. I thought she might cry. “Yes. At first, we didn’t want to tell anyone. We thought we could stop him. Then, when he started setting fires in town, we knew no one would believe us.” She looked up. “But they might believe you.”

I looked around at the shoppers passing by and lowered my voice. “The thing is, I can’t point the finger until I have proof.”

“Like you accused Devon and me without proof?” She was angry with me. She had every right to be.

“I’m so sorry about that,” I said. “I’ve learned my lesson. I’m trying to set things right. But I need your help.”

“I can’t testify,” she said. “Please don’t make me go to court. No one would believe me anyway.”

“I know,” I said. “Everyone would think you were desperate, trying to clear Devon’s name. No one would believe me either. We need to catch the firebug in the act.”

“So what do we do?”

I paused. “I need to take a picture of him starting a fire. But to do that, I’ve got to figure out where he’ll hit next, and when. You’ve been watching the arsonist. You know his habits.”

“He starts fires in sheds, outbuildings,” she told me. “Places where he thinks no one will get hurt.”

“Until he started setting fires in town.”

“Yes.” She paused. “It’s like he was getting bored. He wanted bigger fires. Fires that were harder to put out.”

“Fires in public places.”

“He wants an audience,” said Kayla. “He gets a kick out of people watching.” She paused to look at me. “He likes to read about the fires he starts in the newspaper and on Twitter.”

A light went on for me then. “You mean, he likes me taking photos at the fire.” I felt a chill. “He wants me there.”

“Yes.”

“Then I know where he’s going to strike next.”

“How can I help? What do you want me to do?”

“What you always do,” I said. “Try to stop him.” I looked at my watch. “I have a date with Trevor at the Boardwalk Café at six. Meet me there at five thirty. We’ll take it from there.”

“Claire?”

I turned back. Kayla looked like she was about to cry. “I don’t want to do this,” she said.

“Believe me,” I said, “neither do I.”

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