Set the Night on Fire (20 page)

E
very kiss
from Evie seemed to change Sean’s life.

This one was no different. He left the Sky View Gallery and drove right to the station house. He had no trouble finding Chief Becker’s office—the station practically felt like a second home. The chief was on the phone, but Sean didn’t need to actually talk to him.

He pulled out the papers that had been burning a hole in his pocket since Brad dumped them on him a week ago. If the choice was sell the airstrip to Brad or he’d leak the bank statements—well, he’d save Brad the trouble.

He planted the sheaf of papers on Becker’s desk. Right away he felt a huge burden roll off his shoulders. He snagged a notepad and scrawled a message for Becker. “More material for your Marcus investigation.”

He watched as Becker scanned the note, registered the meaning of the bank statements. When the police chief, who still had his phone to his ear, finally met his eyes, he gave the man a little salute, and a thumb’s up.

Whatever happened next was up to the Jupiter Point Police Department, and Sean was more than okay with that. Whether it looked bad for him, or Brad, or Jesse, or all of the above, it didn’t matter.

Unless he was cleansed of the past, he’d never be worthy of Evie McGraw and her kisses.

Over the next few weeks, Sean threw himself into work. The weather forecasts were alarming; the entire fire community was on watch. Even though it was only mid- April, this part of California was like a tinderbox, and a wildfire could spark at any moment. As he’d promised Vargas, from now until the fire season began, he intended to be one hundred percent focused on getting the Jupiter Point Hotshots ready.

Working nonstop, he completed all the paperwork required for a Type 1 Interagency Hotshot Crew. He and his two captains—Josh and Baker—began planning an initiation ceremony that would mark their crew’s official entrance into the firefighting world.

In the meantime, they trained, and trained, and in their spare time, trained.

Chief Littleton had finally stopped keeping his distance and invited Sean to meet with him about coordination between the hotshots and the JP fire department.

“Gotta tell you, I’m glad you guys are here,” the chief said as he showed him around Station Eleven. “These dry conditions are making me antsy.”

“You and me both.” Sean nodded to one of the firefighters, who he recognized from that drunken night at Barstow’s Brews. “Hey, Rabbit, how’s it going?”

“Not bad, man.” They exchanged fist bumps. “Good to see you slumming it here with the locals.”

Littleton excused himself to take a phone call. “Rabbit, do you mind showing Marcus here the rest of the rigs? He needs to know what resources we can offer up if need be.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

Rabbit, a good-looking, lanky guy with a cocky grin, led the way into the apparatus bay. It was empty and its back door wide open. In the sunny open lot behind the station house, several firefighters were busy polishing a ladder truck and an engine until they shone.

“Guess you missed your chance with Suzanne, huh?” Rabbit said as they walked through the apparatus bay. “I’m thinking that night at Barstow’s was one of her last nights of freedom.”

“Sorry?”

“Suzanne Finnegan. The blond you left with that night. I heard she’s engaged to some lawyer from the Bay Area.”

“No kidding.” He’d probably know this news already if he was still spending time with Evie. “She’s a good kid, I hope she’s happy.”

“So…uh…I heard you were seeing her cousin. Evie McGraw.”

Sean’s entire body tensed at the sound of Evie’s name. “Yeah, I guess you could call it that.”

Rabbit was watching him curiously. “Not anymore?”

“No, I haven’t seen her recently.”

The other firefighter blew out a breath and beamed at him. “So I’m clear to step in, right? I’m just checking as a courtesy, one firefighter to another. Which is more than some of the others are doing.”

Sean froze, nearly stumbling over a crack in the apparatus bay floor. “What are you talking about?”

“Asking Evie out. Following protocol, dude. You were seeing her, so—I want to make sure that’s all in the past before I make my move.” He kept moving toward the lot, not waiting for Sean.

Sean shook himself out of his paralysis and hurried to catch up. “I wouldn’t waste your time. Evie isn’t interested in dating. She despises dating.”

“You’re behind the times, bro.” Rabbit laughed as they stepped out of the apparatus bay into the sunshine. “Evie has entered the singles scene. She’s put out her single shingle. And you know what that shingle says? ‘Open for business, but you better take a number.’ I heard she’s been seeing a cop. That ain’t right. She deserves better.” He winked and put out his fist for another bump, but Sean ignored it this time. “Anyways, we’re cool, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re cool.” Sean made himself speak those words because what else could he do? He didn’t have any say in what Evie did or who she dated. But he walked through the rest of the firehouse tour like a zombie.

Evie was
dating
? Why hadn’t she told him?

Of course she hadn’t told him. He’d walked away from her and lost all right to know about her life. When a girl told you she loved you, and your only response was, “I’m sorry,” you pretty much lost all say in her love life.

Love life
.

He hated the sound of those words. How far was Evie planning to take this? Who was she going out with—the police officer who had written a poem about her pearly teeth? It could be anyone—half of Jupiter Point probably wanted to date her.

She’d put up all those emotional walls and he’d helped tear them down. And now she was dating.

Of course she would want to find someone else. She was a warm-hearted, caring, passionate, kind, sensitive woman who deserved to find true love. Her physical attractiveness was just icing on the cake. Her true beauty lay within. But would the “pearly teeth” guy even recognize that? Would all these dudes asking her out see her as the miraculous woman she was—or as some kind of trophy? Would any of them feel a fraction of what
he
felt for her?

W
ithout bothering
to say goodbye to Littleton, Sean left the firehouse and drove straight to the police department. As he walked through the bullpen area, he looked daggers at each police officer he passed. Which one was Evie going out with? The one who looked like a
GQ
model in blue? The good-looking Latino guy speaking rapid-fire Spanish into his phone? The one who looked like he could lift a Harley with each beefy arm?

When he reached Chief Becker’s corner office, the man unfurled himself to his full six-foot-seven height and reached over the desk to shake his hand. “Good to see you, Marcus. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Sean raked a hand through his hair. “In a way.”

“Sit down.” Becker gestured him to a chair, but Sean couldn’t bear to sit yet. The need to be doing something had transported him here. He didn’t know exactly
what
to do, but here he was.

He paced back and forth in front of Becker’s desk. “I don’t want to take up your time. I just…I’ve been hearing some rumors about your guys.”

“My guys?” Becker raised his eyebrows up to his grizzled hairline. “Someone doing something they shouldn’t?”

“Yes. No. I mean, I’m sure they’re doing their jobs just fine. Serve and protect. Solve crimes, keep Jupiter Point safe. All that.”

“Uh-huh.” Becker got that look Sean had seen on many a police officer’s face, that wary, ‘ready for whatever the crazy person might do’ look. “I hope so. That’s what we’re paying them for.”

“Yeah, but are you paying them to pester your female citizens?”

Becker walked to his office door and closed it. “What’s on your mind, Marcus?”

“Word has it your officers are lining up to go out with Evie McGraw. I have to question their motives. As their superior, you should keep them under control. Tell them to back off. Evie’s a sensitive person and she doesn’t need a bunch of Neanderthals beating down her door. No offense.”

“Oh really? What about
your
guys?” Becker folded his arms across his chest. “Are you going to tell them to back off?”

Sean came to an abrupt stop at the random spot he’d reached, halfway across the office. “
My
guys? What are you talking about?”

“I’m pretty sure that was your boy Josh Marshall I saw with Evie at the Orbit the other night, when I took my wife out for her birthday.”

Josh and Evie…
dating
? “He wouldn’t do that. He fucking wouldn’t.”

“That’s between you and him. I’m just the police chief. And I’m pretty sure, no, almost a hundred percent sure,” Becker scratched his head as if trying to remember some obscure police regulation, “that I have no say in who my subordinates go out to dinner with, or who they fall in love with, or who they marry.”

“
Marry?
” Horror flashed through Sean with the force of a lightning bolt hitting an oak tree. “Who said anything about marrying?”

“That’s generally what people do when they love each other. Unless they have problems with the institution or deep-seated issues they haven’t worked through.”

Sean stared at the older man, who seemed to be struggling to hold back a laugh. “You’re saying I have issues?”

“You saying you don’t?”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Boy, you put your fist in my face. I arrested you.” He jabbed a finger in the air toward him. “I interrogated you. I listened to you rage in a jail cell all night. I investigated your parents’ death. That means I investigated them and I investigated you. I
know
you.”

Sean swallowed convulsively. That night in jail, he’d released years’ worth of anger within those four walls. Becker had let him vent. Brought him a glass of water. Told him he’d get through it. Even though his jaw was swollen from Sean’s punch, he’d treated him fairly.

He could trust this man.

“Fine,” he said in a hoarse voice. “What issues do I have?”

Becker squinted at him. “Do I look like a therapist?”

“Is that some sort of game? You want me to say what my issues are? Well, fine, I don’t think I have any. I’m my own person, and I’m nothing like my father. Duty, integrity, respect.” He emphasized the words by pounding one fist into the opposite palm. “That’s the hotshot motto,
that’s
what I live by. It’s the opposite of how Jesse lived. He lived for himself, and he wanted his family to be his fan club. Follow him everywhere. Laugh at his jokes. Like the things
he
liked. He didn’t love us. He didn’t love me. He just wanted a slave.”

He stopped, breathing hard. He slid a glance at Becker, but like that night Sean had spent in jail, the man was just letting him vent.

“Jesse never listened to me. I told him he wasn’t cut out to be a pilot. He barely had enough flight hours to get his license, let alone fly other people around. If he’d listened to me, just once, just one fucking time in his whole life, maybe he wouldn’t have crashed. Unless he crashed on purpose, because he didn’t want to go to j—”

The chief watched closely as Sean fought to get a grip on his emotions. When Sean said nothing more, Becker walked to his desk and picked up a fat olive-drab file folder.

“I took a look at the bank statements you gave me. Interesting stuff. I’ve had a detective digging around and our guess is there’s money hidden somewhere. Not in here, though.”

Sean frowned, not understanding.

“There’s nothing in these accounts that would have sent Jesse Marcus to jail. And the crash wasn’t his fault.”

“
What?
Of course it was.” Sean had never once questioned that. A momentary lapse in attention, a detail left unattended to, a desire to show off for his wife on their anniversary. He couldn’t say exactly how it had happened, but he knew it had to be Jessie’s doing.

“I gotta admit, I assumed it was, too, knowing Jesse Marcus. But after Brad White got the investigation reopened, I assigned one of my best detectives to it. He found a report from the NTSB that never got made public. Several fishermen reported unpredictable winds that day. They said it kept changing direction. The conditions weren’t bad enough to ground a plane. But there’s a good chance that wind shear brought it down. Investigators were leaning toward that conclusion, but didn’t have enough evidence to make the call. So they left the final cause undetermined.”

“They think it was wind shear?” Sean had been inside the school gym playing basketball when the crash happened, not monitoring the weather. He didn’t remember anything about the wind conditions.

“Yeah, it’s a sudden change in the direction of the wind—”

“I know. I know what it is.”

“From what I’ve heard, it can happen to anyone,” Becker added. “Not much he could have done.”

Sean nodded slowly. Hotshots dealt with gusty, unpredictable winds all the time. They were a fact of life. If you got caught on the wrong side of a sudden change, you could pay with your life. None of this was news to him.

The possibility that a force of nature had taken his parents’ lives and not some bad decision on Jesse’s part?

Yeah, that actually was news.

“It’s like anything,” Becker was saying. “You do what you love and you take your chances.”

“Uh-huh.” Sean cleared his throat. He needed to think this through. For thirteen years he’d pinned the blame on his father. And no matter what had caused the crash, it didn’t change anything. Jesse was still a selfish, controlling husband and father.

But maybe it
did
change things. Maybe Jesse wasn’t as reckless as he’d thought. And maybe he could move forward now that he knew the truth.

“And listen, Sean. It says a lot that you brought this evidence in even though you didn’t know how it would turn out. I respect that, son. You earned a lot of goodwill around here, for that and for everything else.”

Respect.
The word entered his bloodstream like a shot of B-12. Respect. That was all he’d ever wanted.

“So…anything else you wanted to discuss? You can take this file if you want. I told you the highlights but you might find it interesting. Seems the plane was perfectly maintained and mechanically sound. I was going to pass this on to the newspaper to see if they wanted to do one more write-up on the crash. Put all the rumors to rest. But if you want to look through it first, have at it.”