CHAPTER
9
B RITT HELD HER BREATH, WONDERING HOW RALEY WOULD react to the sensitive question.
He rolled his shoulders defensively and took a breath. “Okay, maybe I was a little pissed. Jay teased me about it. ‘I be the cop, you be the fireman, remember?’ He’d say it in that way of his, with that smile, and I knew he was ribbing, but, yeah, here I had gone through the training and done the studying, and then, in typical Jay Burgess fashion, he sails in and grabs the glory. Lots of glory.”
“Anybody would resent that, Raley.”
“On the other hand, I was proud of him and damn glad he’d saved all those lives. I was also grateful that he had survived.”
“That was the purpose of the party, wasn’t it? To celebrate his survival?”
“That’s what he said. He wanted to celebrate his rise from the ashes. I told him I couldn’t make it because of work, but Jay called me on the afternoon of the party. He said…”
“Don’t let me down, Raley. You gotta be there. How can I have a party without you?”
Raley sighed into the telephone. From second grade, when Jay had talked him into putting a cricket in their teacher’s desk drawer, he’d been wheedling Raley into doing things he didn’t want to do. When Jay set his mind to something, he was irrepressible, and he was determined to have Raley at his party.
“I’ve been working day and night, Jay.”
“So have I. That’s never stopped us from taking time off to party.”
“This is different. This investigation—”
“Will keep. For a few hours, anyway. Stop by long enough to have a beer. I’ve rented a frozen margarita machine, but for non-drinkers, I’ll have a keg.”
Raley laughed. “Jay, beer is an alcoholic beverage.”
“You’re kidding. It is?”
The two friends laughed, then Jay said, “It won’t be a party without you, buddy.”
Raley still hedged. His days were long. His nights were spent reviewing the information he gleaned during the days. Consequently, he was working around the clock.
He’d been appointed to assist the department’s senior arson investigator, a craggy middle-aged man named Teddy Brunner. Brunner was a veteran and probably knew more about fires than anyone else in the department. But it was Raley who put notices about seminars and conferences under the chief’s nose. When budget was the only thing preventing him from attending these conferences, he paid his own tuition, considering the out-of-pocket expense an investment in his future.
Although Brunner was the veteran, Raley had two college degrees to his credit, and advanced, scientific knowledge on firefighting. By pooling their resources, they made a good team. Raley didn’t flaunt his formal education because he respected the older fireman’s decades of experience.
Brunner was occasionally cantankerous and short with him. Raley realized he probably felt threatened by him and his better understanding of new technology, but he was also gradually winning Brunner’s respect. Raley tried hard to keep the working relationship on an even keel.
But any way you sliced it, being appointed Brunner’s apprentice on such an important investigation was an indication that he was being groomed to be the senior investigator’s successor whenever the older man chose to retire. It was an enormous opportunity. As important, it would signify a personal achievement, the culmination of years of study and hard work. Because such a critical career step was at stake, he didn’t want to risk any break in his concentration.
Jay could shatter a monk’s concentration. And he never took no for an answer. “Come on, Raley. Can I count on you to be there?”
Again Raley stalled by telling Jay that Hallie was out of town. “She’s on a business trip and won’t be back till tomorrow.”
“She doesn’t trust you to come stag? That’s an awfully short leash she’s got you on.”
Jay frequently gibed Raley about his upcoming marriage, reminding him of the pleasurable benefits to be had by staying romantically footloose. The teasing didn’t bother Raley. He looked forward to matrimony, monogamy, and spending the rest of his life with Hallie.
He also suspected that his friend was secretly jealous of his relationship with Hallie, the likes of which Jay had never shared with a woman, and that the taunting was a product of envy.
Jay often gazed moony-eyed at Hallie, saying, “I might consider marriage myself if I could have Hallie. You snared the last good woman, Raley, you lucky s.o.b.” Hallie laughed off his foolishness, as did Raley. Both knew that Jay wouldn’t trade bachelorhood for a relationship where fidelity was at least expected, if not required.
“She trusts me,” Raley said. “It’s just that it won’t be any fun to go to a party without her.”
“Bring Candy. She can be your date.”
Raley guffawed. Candy Orrin had grown up with them. She was several years younger, but over one summer, when she’d talked their coach into letting her be “ball boy” for their baseball team, she’d become their shadow.
She was a tomboy who could outrun, outhit, outshoot, outcuss, and when they were older, outdrink them. She was great fun and a good friend but hardly a substitute for Hallie, and he told Jay so.
Jay chuckled. “I hear you, man. Candy hasn’t got Hallie’s grace, charm, and beauty. By the way, have I told you I’m secretly in love with your woman?”
“About a hundred times.”
“I have? Well, just so you know. Where was I?”
“Candy hasn’t got—”
“Right. She’s as far from Hallie as, say, you are from me.”
“Ha-ha.”
“But you gotta admit that Candy’s good for laughs, she’s currently without a beau, and she says if she can’t scare up a date for my party she might skip it, too. Now, how can I celebrate my miraculous survival if my two best friends are no-shows?”
Raley had run out of excuses. The real reason he didn’t want to go was that for the last several days he’d been reviewing the autopsy reports of those who’d died in the fire. To Raley, the remains weren’t just so much charred tissue and bone fragments. Those unrecognizable human bodies had been people, and they’d suffered horrific deaths. His mind wouldn’t let him forget how terrifying their final minutes of life would have been. Thoughts of it kept him awake at night, and when he was able to sleep, he heard their screams in his nightmares. He wasn’t in a partying mood.
But to discuss that with Jay would be to remind him that, for all his heroism, he was unable to save those seven. He figured those souls haunted Jay, the same as they did him, but Jay’s way of coping was to throw a party.
Perhaps his friend’s way of dealing with despondency was the better one. Jay would say that no amount of regret or sorrow could bring back those seven. Bury the dead, life was for the living. And when you got right down to it, he was right.
“I could easily have died that day, you know,” he was saying now. “I suffer flashbacks to it, Raley. To the fire, to being inside that building. Can’t see a thing, choking on smoke, afraid the floor is about to fall out from under me. There were times when I thought, This is it. My time’s up. I’m going to die. If not for fate, I’d be history. This party could just as easily have been my wake instead of—”
“Oh, for godsake, bring on the fucking violins,” Raley groaned. “You’ll use any means of manipulation to get me there, won’t you?”
“I have no shame.”
“I believe it.”
Jay reminded him to call Candy and offer her a ride, then said, “Wait and see. You’ll have a good time in spite of your sorry-ass self.”
“One more thing,” Raley said, stopping him just before he hung up. “Cleveland Jones. I still haven’t received all the paperwork on him.”
“Oh, shit. I forgot again, didn’t I?”
“I don’t see how you could. This is the third time I’ve asked for his arrest report.”
“I know, I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll get it to you on Monday, first thing.”
“I’m holding you to that.” He hung up, disappointed that he wouldn’t have the arrest report over the weekend. He hated to keep harping on Jay about it, but that report was vital to his investigation.
Jay was distracted by his personal involvement and by the media, who continued to hound him for interviews. Not that he minded being in the spotlight, but being a celebrity was time-consuming.
With the exception of this last conversation, each time Raley phoned Jay, he seemed preoccupied and always in a rush to cut short the call. Any other time, Raley would feel like he was getting the brush-off, but Jay’s splintered attention was understandable. He, like every person in the CPD, was working overtime to recover from the disastrous fire. The entire department was in shambles, operating in a state of barely controlled chaos. Personnel were working out of temporary headquarters, trying to reorganize even as they went about their routine duties.
With the entire PD in this state of upheaval, Raley couldn’t really fault Jay for not responding immediately to his request to see the paperwork on Cleveland Jones, but he was becoming impatient to finish his investigation. Brunner had assigned him this aspect of it, and he wanted to come through, not just to satisfy but to impress the older man.
Mainly, he wanted the nightmares to stop.
Hallie had noticed his preoccupation more than anyone, and he knew it worried her. He could hear the relief in her voice when he called to tell her that Jay had persuaded him to attend his party. “Good,” she said.
“Not really, but he wouldn’t let me back out.”
“Why don’t you want to go?”
“Because you’re not here to go with me.”
“I’m flattered, but is that the only reason?”
He couldn’t hide much from her. “I hate to give up a night. I’m really into this investigation and don’t want to lose momentum.”
In a quieter voice, she asked, “How are you?”
“Missing you.”
“Besides that.”
“I’m fine.”
“You sound tired.”
“I am. But I’m okay.”
She didn’t dispute him, but he could imagine her doubtful frown. She had an endearing way of pursing her lips when she was mulling something over. She’d been wearing that frown the first time he saw her, two years ago on New Year’s Eve, at a party hosted by mutual friends. She was at the buffet table, considering the raw oysters lying on a mound of ice. He moved up beside her and said, “I don’t think they bite.” And she laughed, saying, “I don’t think I will, either.”
That thoughtful pout made her lips infinitely kissable. He especially liked kissing that pout away when she was wearing her glasses. She didn’t believe him when he told her he preferred her glasses to contacts. But it was the truth.
Switching subjects now, he asked, “How are your meetings going?”
She was a loan officer at the local branch of a banking chain. An advancement had brought her to Charleston only weeks before that New Year’s Eve when they met. Since then, she’d had VP added after her name. She’d been in Boston all week at the bank’s national headquarters.
“Long, but informative.”
“So the trip was worthwhile.”
“Um-huh.” Then, “Oh! I talked to my mother today. The church is available on Saturday the twelfth.”
“Great.” That was the April date they’d discussed for their wedding. Spring flowers in bloom. Not too hot or humid yet. “I’ll call my mom and tell her.”
“My mom already spoke to her.”
“Even better.”
They laughed, because he had ceded all wedding planning to the three women, telling Hallie to be sure he knew what time to show up with the ring. He felt that was all he needed to know.
“It’s good to hear you laugh,” she said. “And I think going to Jay’s party is an excellent idea. You need a break from the investigation.”
“I’ve been lousy company lately, haven’t I?”
“You’ve taken the job to heart.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for your commitment, Raley. The fire was a tragedy. I couldn’t love you if you hadn’t taken this investigation to heart.”
Her soft voice and the understanding behind it made him yearn to touch her. Boston might just as well have been in another galaxy. “Why aren’t you here so I can make love to you?”
“Tomorrow,” she said. “Don’t make plans for tomorrow night. I’m bringing back a new nightie from Victoria’s Secret. I intend to distract you from work, from everything.”
His imagination went into overdrive. “How about some hot phone sex right now?”
“I would,” she said, “but I’ve got a meeting in five minutes.”
“It won’t take me anywhere near five minutes.”
“It would the way I’d do it,” she purred, then laughed at his groan. “Besides, I don’t want to make you late for Jay’s party.”
“He promises it will be one of his orgiastic bacchanals.”
“I wouldn’t expect it to be anything else. Should I be worried? Or are you just trying to talk me into the hot phone sex?”
“No, you shouldn’t be worried. And yes, I’m trying to talk you into the phone sex. If you help me get my rocks off now, I’ll be too sated to stray.”
“How can I possibly resist such a romantic lead-in?”
He laughed. “No sale?”
“Sorry.”
“Okay,” he sighed. “But how am I going to explain this boner to Candy?”
“Candy? Did I miss something?”
“Jay rooked me into being her date tonight.”
“Who’s the designated driver?”
“I am. I’ll have one beer. Candy can find her own way home, or stay over at Jay’s, or whatever. I’m coming home early and spending the rest of tonight and tomorrow planning all the dirty things I’m going to do to you when you get home.”
“I can’t wait.” She gave him her flight number and time of arrival.
“See you in baggage claim. And in the meantime, I love you.”
Candy paused in the open doorway to scan Jay’s living room. “The usual suspects.”
Raley, looking over her shoulder, took in the riotous scene. “I don’t recognize half the people here.”
“That’s what I meant,” she shouted back at him. “It’s one of Jay’s typical free-for-alls.”
His apartment was jam-packed with people, all trying to talk above the loud music, creating a cacophony of laughter, chatter, and Bon Jovi. Having delivered Candy as promised, Raley was tempted to make an about-face and leave. But it was too late. Jay had spotted them. Holding aloft his margarita glass, he threaded his way through the crowd until he reached them. He kissed Candy on the cheek.
“You look sensational!”
“Thanks. It’s new.” She held out the skirt of the halter dress and executed a curtsy. “I treated myself. I may not be able to pay the rent this month, but what the hell. Does the full skirt make my butt look big?”
Dutifully he and Jay chorused, “No.”
“Liars. But thanks.”
Soon after she’d passed the bar exam, a job for an ADA had come open in the district attorney’s office. Candy had applied for it and had hung on with bulldog tenacity until she was hired. At first, she was little more than a gofer, but it hadn’t taken her long to distinguish herself. She was ambitious and self-confident, and didn’t take any crap from her male counterparts. She didn’t acknowledge a glass ceiling for women in the judicial system—except to say that she planned to shatter the goddamn thing.
She wasn’t a natural beauty, but when she took the time and trouble, as she obviously had tonight, she could be moderately attractive.
“Hey, buddy, I’m glad you’re here.” Jay reached past Candy to shake Raley’s hand, then threw one arm around his shoulders and gave him a hug, thumping him on the back. Raley, who was several inches taller than Jay, awkwardly leaned into the hug.
But he found himself moved by Jay’s demonstration of affection and, remembering the reason for the party, said thickly, “No, I’m glad you’re here.”
They released each other quickly but maintained eye contact and fond smiles.
Candy regarded them suspiciously. “You two aren’t going to swap spit, I hope.”
They laughed. Jay said, “When Hell freezes over,” then motioned with his head. “Bar’s this way.”
It took them ten minutes to navigate the living room. As soon as he’d thrust a plastic cup of beer at Raley, and seen to it that Candy had a margarita, Jay deserted them to welcome arriving guests, and to meet the tagalongs they’d brought with them.
Candy spotted another lawyer from the DA’s office across the room. He was standing with his back against the wall, looking like he was facing a firing squad. “He’s married,” she told Raley, “but I understand he and the missus are separated. I don’t see her, do you?” Obviously it was a rhetorical question because Candy didn’t wait for an answer. “He’s kinda cute, in a nerdy sort of way, don’t you think?”
“Oh yeah.” Much more nerdy than cute, in Raley’s opinion, which he wisely kept to himself. “I’ll bet you’re smarter than him.”
Not hearing his sarcasm, or disregarding it, she said, “Oh, no question of that.” She turned to him and peeled back her lips. “Do I have anything in my teeth?”
He inspected them and shook his head. “You’re good to go.”
“See ya.”
She headed off in the general direction of the lost-looking prosecutor. Poor bastard, Raley thought, mentally chuckling. He was in for a night of it.
Feeling adrift, Raley stepped out onto the patio, where the noise level was a trifle less earsplitting. The concrete pad was bordered on three sides by narrow strips of grass and enclosed with a privacy fence. Tonight the gate was open. Jay’s guests were free to spill out onto the common area of the apartment complex. None of the other residents seemed to mind the party racket. Raley was sure Jay had extended a blanket invitation as a preemptive strike against complaints.
And who was a neighbor to call to complain about noise? The cops? Any police department employee who wasn’t on duty tonight was here swilling beer and margaritas, noshing on chips and salsa, cheese cubes, and onion dip.
Raley looked through the open gate, planning his escape. He’d already told Candy he would leave well before she was ready to go, and she’d agreed to find her own way home. If he left through the gate, he could circle around to where he’d parked his car without having to go back through the apartment, avoiding an argument with Jay, who would urge him to stay.
He finished his beer and tossed the empty cup into a trash can, then started for the gate.
“Hi.”
He turned to make certain the greeting was intended for him. It was. But he’d never seen the young woman smiling up at him. “Your name’s Raley?”
“That’s right.”
Her smile widened. “Raley Gannon. I asked.” She pointed with her thumb over her shoulder, indicating that she’d asked his name of someone in the crowd.
“Oh.”
It wasn’t a brilliant comeback, but it was all he could think of to say. She was a stunner, from the tousled mass of blond hair to her red toenails. In between were a pair of high-heeled sandals, a white miniskirt, and a red tank top with FCUK spelled out in rhinestones. She was carrying a frozen margarita in each hand.
“You looked thirsty.” She handed one of the drinks to Raley. He took it, but she noticed him looking at the glittering letters stretched across her breasts. She laughed. “It stands for French Connection UK. Like England? It’s a line of clothing.”
“Oh, right.”
“Eye-catching though, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Makes you do a double take. At least it did you.” And she gave a little shimmy that caused all four letters to jiggle. Her breasts turned seismic.
Feeling guilty for staring, he looked into the margarita. “I was about to leave.”
Her evident disappointment was flattering. “You were? How come?”
“I, uh, I have some work to do.”
“On Saturday night?”
“Yeah, I—”
“I don’t hear any fire trucks.”
He gave a quick tilt of his head. “You know I’m a fireman? What gave me away?”
Shyly she ducked her head, peering up at him through her eyelashes. “I asked that, too. I wanted to have an icebreaker. You know, something to talk to you about? I wasn’t surprised to learn you were a fireman. I thought you must be something, you know, manly like that. With your build and all. But a fireman. Wow.”
He took a sip of his margarita. It was cold and delicious, a perfect combination of sweetness and bite. “A fireman is all I ever wanted to be.”
“So do lots of little boys. But you actually grew up to become one.” She licked salt from the rim of her glass and smiled at him.
He smiled back.
“Is it fun riding in the truck?”
“Well, if we’re going to a fire or an emergency—”
“Oh, I know it’s dangerous and all. But still, it’s gotta be a kick.”
Self-consciously, he grinned. “Yeah, it can be a kick.”
Someone jostled her from behind and she fell against him. “Oopsy-daisy.” Her breast—the one with the F and the C—mashed against his arm as she regained her balance. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“Did I cause you to spill your drink?”
“Just a little.” He sucked drops of melting margarita off his hand and took another drink. Then another.
“The house is impossible,” she said, “but it’s getting crowded out here, too.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Without his making a conscious decision to relocate, Raley fell into step behind her as she made her way through the gate and out onto the expanse of lawn that connected the units of the complex. In the center of the compound was a swimming pool with a hot tub that would hold twenty, a clubhouse for residents’ use, twin tennis courts with basketball hoops at each end, and several gathering places, some enclosed with lattice walls, others open-air for sunning on chaise lounges.
She placed her hand on his arm and bent down to remove her sandals, sighing as her bare feet settled into the grass. “Ooh, that’s better.”
“I’ll bet. Those heels look lethal.”
She laughed. “They’re killers, all right, but they make your legs look good.”
Her legs looked good without them, too. He forced his eyes back up to her face. Had she told him her name? If so, he couldn’t recall it. He was about to ask when she posed a question to him. “Do you wear those wide, red suspenders?”
“They’re part of our gear.”
“They’re such a turn-on.” Again her tongue flicked salt off her glass. Her lips were very red, her tongue pointed and pink.
He glanced past her, back toward Jay’s patio. He didn’t realize they’d walked that far. At this distance, Bon Jovi was little more than thudding bass. His pulse seemed to be keeping time with “Wanted Dead or Alive.” “Uh, as I said, I was about to leave.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean to keep you.”
“No, it’s okay, I—”
“I thought it would be nice to finish our drinks out by the pool. Where it’s cooler.”
He hesitated, but at that moment, cooler sounded very good. “Okay. Sure.”
He walked with her toward the pool, along the way taking several missteps. “The margaritas are strong,” he remarked.
“I was about to say the same thing. Want to go swimming? It would clear your head.”
A question about swimsuits wafted through his brain, but it was too elusive to grasp. “No. I think I just want to sit a minute.”
“Me, too. Let’s go over here.”
She led him toward one of the areas enclosed by vine-covered lattice. There was seating enough for a small group, but when he sat down on a chaise, she sat down on it, too. “Lean back. I’ll switch on the fan.”
He lay back onto the angled cushion and watched as she walked to a support post where there was a switch plate. A flick of her fingers and the overhead fan began to turn, creating a welcome breeze. His eyes closed, but he didn’t realize they had until she rejoined him on the chaise and he pried them open to see her smiling down at him.
She leaned over him and ran her cold glass across his forehead. “Better?”
He mumbled something but wasn’t sure that what he’d said were actual words. Her breasts were sort of in the way of his lips.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Fiancée.”
“I figured. Men like you are always taken.”
“Men like me?”
She smiled as she undid several buttons on his shirt. “Strong, handsome firemen with hair on their chests.” Her fingers combed through his. “So where is she?”
“Uh, Boston. Business.”
He jumped when she grazed his nipple with her fingernail and was about to tell her not to do that—he really was—when she said, “I’ve never been to Boston. Too cold. I like hotter climates, don’t you?”
Hallie was in meetings that were long but informative. See? He wasn’t so drunk that he couldn’t remember.
“It’s awfully hot tonight, though.” She lifted her hair off her neck with both hands, held it up, then dropped it. When she did, her hands skimmed over her breasts, and she seemed to like the feel of them, because her right hand stayed. It cupped her right breast, and her thumb began to idly stroke her nipple beneath the shiny F. The circular movement of her thumb was hypnotizing, and so was what it was doing to her nipple.
But as seductive as it was, he had to blink hard to hold it in focus. Jesus, he was drunk. His body felt heavy. He wasn’t sure he could move his legs, and didn’t particularly want to, because that would have meant dislodging…uh…
Had she told him her name?
Anyway, moving would have meant dislodging her, and he was liking the feel of her hip against his thigh.
How had he got so drunk on one beer and half a margarita? He had a much higher tolerance than that. Years of college drinking had conditioned him…
Where was his margarita, anyway?
“Your fiancée left you all alone?”
There was something he should say to that, but damned if he could think of what it was.
“That was pretty stupid of her.”
He didn’t remember disposing of his margarita, but he must have because his hands were otherwise occupied. One was on…
Shit, what was her name?
One of his hands was on her leg, being guided beneath her short skirt and up the inside of her thigh, and the other was being pressed against that tight, hard nipple, which had been bared to him.
Her breath was humid against his face. “Stupid of her, but lucky for me.”
That pink, pointed tongue he had noticed earlier…was it licking the salt off his lips? Something below his waist was feeling damn good, but wrong. Wrong.
This isn’t right. This isn’t right! Why am I doing this?