SCORCHED: A Firefighter Stepbrother Romance Thriller by Evelyn Graves Page A
Authors: Evelyn Graves
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about pulling grateful
citizens out of a burning building. But we don’t think about the little things.
The details. Because honestly? That’s what makes it real.
And to
do this job, you gotta keep
a certain distance. Have a certain amount of clarity. See the forest, but not
the trees. You gotta look at
the big picture. Fire: bad. Girls: pretty.
So
knowing how this fucking psycho had done it—knowing what parts of the
building had gone up in flames first—it let my well-informed imagination
run wild.
Fuck. All those people . . .
“You
have a suspect?” I asked, hoping that maybe they already had someone—someone
who didn’t know my sister—who looked good for the crime. If Tanya’s
stalker was the kind of guy who’d set an entire building on fire, then I didn’t
want to think of the lengths he’d go to in order to get to her now.
Never should’ve left her. Not even at the
mall. I’m a fucking idiot. I’m so fucking stupid. Just because I didn’t want to
talk about a stupid fucking kiss . . .
The
lieutenant shrugged. “The usual. Landlord, a few disgruntled tenants. Nothing
solid just yet.”
“I
might have a lead for you, then,” I said, taking a deep breath.
“Go
ahead.”
“My
sister has a stalker,” I began, staring into the space between the captain’s
desk and myself. Even talking about this brought to mind the horrible things
that happened that night. “A violent one.”
Frasier
leaned forward. “And you think that he could have set the fire? Do you have any
evidence?”
“Last
night, after I brought my sister home from . . . work,
my car was broken into. I came outside and found my back window smashed in with
a brick. When I brought it inside, I saw that it had scorch marks on it. There
was a note, too. A message for my sister. It was weird
shit, man. Like . . . Criminal Minds -level crazy.”
“I
see,” the lieutenant said, taking out a notepad and jotting a few things down
as I spoke. “And you just learned of this person last night?”
“Yes,”
I said, flexing my hands anxiously. “My sister and I had been estranged until
the fire.”
“Do you
know the name of her stalker?”
“No,
he’s stayed fairly anonymous. Like stalkers tend to do. Look, like I said, I’ve
only just been made aware that this guy even existed.”
“Has
your sister filed any police report on the matter?”
“No, I
don’t think so. She never mentioned it, just told me that he accosted her at
work. I think that his message and the brick have been the first time he’s
communicated since then.”
“Then
we’ll definitely need to have that talk with your sister, Mr. Cole.”
“Yeah.”
I nodded, rubbing my hand over my face as my thoughts raced. “I’ll make sure
she’s available to talk to you. Mind if I grab your number so we can set
something up?”
“Absolutely,”
he said, scribbling what I could only assume was his work number down on his
notepad and tearing the page out. “If she can get back to me as soon as
possible, I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure
thing,” I said. “Is that all you needed?”
“That
should be everything,” Frasier answered as I began to stand.
No
sooner had I reached for the door then it flew open. Stoggins was standing square in the doorway, his eyes wild, face twisted and pale.
“Something
wrong, Stoggins ?” the Captain asked, his mustache
bristling at the intrusion.
“We
just got a call, Cap, and I think Gunner’s gonna wanna be on this one.”
Cap
snorted like a bull about to charge. He hated being interrupted. Hated cryptic shit like what Stoggins said even more. “The hell are you talking about?”
“It’s
your house, Gunner,” Tom said, turning to me. “There was a 9-1-1 call just a
few minutes ago.”
My
stomach went cold and I froze in place. My thoughts
citizens out of a burning building. But we don’t think about the little things.
The details. Because honestly? That’s what makes it real.
And to
do this job, you gotta keep
a certain distance. Have a certain amount of clarity. See the forest, but not
the trees. You gotta look at
the big picture. Fire: bad. Girls: pretty.
So
knowing how this fucking psycho had done it—knowing what parts of the
building had gone up in flames first—it let my well-informed imagination
run wild.
Fuck. All those people . . .
“You
have a suspect?” I asked, hoping that maybe they already had someone—someone
who didn’t know my sister—who looked good for the crime. If Tanya’s
stalker was the kind of guy who’d set an entire building on fire, then I didn’t
want to think of the lengths he’d go to in order to get to her now.
Never should’ve left her. Not even at the
mall. I’m a fucking idiot. I’m so fucking stupid. Just because I didn’t want to
talk about a stupid fucking kiss . . .
The
lieutenant shrugged. “The usual. Landlord, a few disgruntled tenants. Nothing
solid just yet.”
“I
might have a lead for you, then,” I said, taking a deep breath.
“Go
ahead.”
“My
sister has a stalker,” I began, staring into the space between the captain’s
desk and myself. Even talking about this brought to mind the horrible things
that happened that night. “A violent one.”
Frasier
leaned forward. “And you think that he could have set the fire? Do you have any
evidence?”
“Last
night, after I brought my sister home from . . . work,
my car was broken into. I came outside and found my back window smashed in with
a brick. When I brought it inside, I saw that it had scorch marks on it. There
was a note, too. A message for my sister. It was weird
shit, man. Like . . . Criminal Minds -level crazy.”
“I
see,” the lieutenant said, taking out a notepad and jotting a few things down
as I spoke. “And you just learned of this person last night?”
“Yes,”
I said, flexing my hands anxiously. “My sister and I had been estranged until
the fire.”
“Do you
know the name of her stalker?”
“No,
he’s stayed fairly anonymous. Like stalkers tend to do. Look, like I said, I’ve
only just been made aware that this guy even existed.”
“Has
your sister filed any police report on the matter?”
“No, I
don’t think so. She never mentioned it, just told me that he accosted her at
work. I think that his message and the brick have been the first time he’s
communicated since then.”
“Then
we’ll definitely need to have that talk with your sister, Mr. Cole.”
“Yeah.”
I nodded, rubbing my hand over my face as my thoughts raced. “I’ll make sure
she’s available to talk to you. Mind if I grab your number so we can set
something up?”
“Absolutely,”
he said, scribbling what I could only assume was his work number down on his
notepad and tearing the page out. “If she can get back to me as soon as
possible, I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure
thing,” I said. “Is that all you needed?”
“That
should be everything,” Frasier answered as I began to stand.
No
sooner had I reached for the door then it flew open. Stoggins was standing square in the doorway, his eyes wild, face twisted and pale.
“Something
wrong, Stoggins ?” the Captain asked, his mustache
bristling at the intrusion.
“We
just got a call, Cap, and I think Gunner’s gonna wanna be on this one.”
Cap
snorted like a bull about to charge. He hated being interrupted. Hated cryptic shit like what Stoggins said even more. “The hell are you talking about?”
“It’s
your house, Gunner,” Tom said, turning to me. “There was a 9-1-1 call just a
few minutes ago.”
My
stomach went cold and I froze in place. My thoughts
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