The Protector by Dee Henderson Page B

This he could do. This was practical and tangible. He did his best to ignore the fact she was occasionally sniffing against the threatening tears. “Tell me why you think it was Ash.”
    “He lives in that neighborhood.”
    Jack stopped. He wasn’t expecting that. “Where?”
    “Quincy Street. He moved there about a month before he disappeared.”
    “Why?”
    “Why did he move?”
    Jack nodded.
    “Something about storage for a boat. He called it his little rowboat.”
    “The way he stood, moved, reminded you of Ash. What else?”
    “His clothes. Jack, the impression I got was a confident, comfortable, reflective man.” She shook her head. “It feels so incredibly disloyal to think this.”
    “Cassie—it wasn’t Ash. He would not have started a fire and let you walk into it. It’s impossible.”
    “But what if he did?” she whispered.
    “Then he’s become a different man than the one we’ve known for years.”
    “I can’t get the impression out of my mind. I looked through the arson books for someone who looked like Ash. I’m so ashamed of that. I was wishing I could find someone who looked like him.”
    “Figuring out who you saw will be Cole’s job to solve. Trust him. The description gives him a lot to work with.”
    “Would you talk to him for me?”
    He was going to be talking to Cole all right, pushing his friend hard because this arsonist had just made this very personal. It was one thing to go after him, but when Cassie got hurt— Whoever was setting these fires, whatever his motivation, he had hurt a friend. “I’ll talk to him,” Jack reassured. It was something else practical he could do for her. He rubbed the tape in place. “This should hold for the night. Soak your hand in the morning.”
    “I will.”
    He didn’t immediately release her hand. “Cassie—” He paused, trying to find the right words. “I hate to leave you alone tonight. Is there someone I can call for you?”
    “Amy is across the hall. Go, Jack. I’ll be fine and you’ve got work to do.” She lifted her good hand to touch her hair. “Besides, I need to wash my hair.”
    “Get some sleep first.”
    “That would be more logical.”
    The right answer to that was a smile. “Those pain pills are going to knock you the rest of the way out. Come lock the door after me.”
    She leveraged herself from the chair and walked with him to the door.
    “Are you moving?”
    She nudged one of the boxes. “My extra inventory of books that are on their way to the bookstore.”
    She had eight boxes of books in her hallway. “I’ll haul them over to the store for you.”
    “I’d appreciate that. Call me later with what Cole has found?”
    “Around noon,” Jack promised. He took out his keys as he stepped across the threshold. “Cassie?”
    She paused in closing the door.
    “Check the batteries in your smoke alarm tomorrow.”
    It took a moment, but then her smile reached her eyes. “I will. Good night, Jack.”
    He headed downstairs.
    Where did he go next? The fire cleanup would have Cole’s attention for the next few hours as he located and secured the evidence. He needed to talk to Cole. This news was going to go over like a lead balloon.
    Jack started his car, thought for a moment, and instead drove to Quincy Street. The first fire had happened a week after Ash disappeared. It was too troubling a fact to ignore. Forget what he had said to Cassie. His gut reaction was intense.
    Ash setting fires…it was a reach. But Jack could remember the hallway conversations at the hospital. There had been a lot of anger at the cost cutting being made that Ash felt had been a factor in Cassie’s getting hurt. The nursing home annual inspection was delayed because the number of inspectors had been cut back. When the drastic cost cutting resulting in fire department consolidations had come down, Ash had been vocal and horrified at what was happening.
    He had been so focused on helping Cassie—Jack couldn’t see Ash abruptly