The Fire Still Burns Read online

  “Thanks, I take that as a compliment.” The spunky teen faced down the older woman and lowered her voice so only Doris and Brynn could hear. “Now, I suggest you leave this store and quit harassing my customers, before I yell even louder about the lice shampoo you just might have requested I find for you.”

  Doris's mouth opened and closed several times in quick succession¾reminding Brynn of the guppies she'd had as a child¾before making a growling noise and turning on her heel, apparently unable to think of a retort. She elbowed her way through the group of gawkers still laughing and whispering about the free show they'd just seen.

  “Thanks.” Brynn smiled at the teen who simply shrugged in response before turning away and leaving her to her shopping, or leaving her to the wolves she thought as she realized with Doris gone, the other shoppers were turning their attention to her. The crowd had dispersed, but there were still quite a few sets of eyes on her and the whispered barbs were hard to ignore.

  Brynn quickly snatched a box of allergy medication and the few other items she'd come for, reminding herself that once she had enough money this town and all its inhabitants, including what was left of the Good family, would be nothing more than a bad memory.

  Relieved to find there was no line at the checkout counter, freeing up the ebony-haired teen for a little question and answer session, she placed her items on the counter, checked the girl's name tag and swooped in. “So, Riley, I take it you're not a member of the Doris Good fan club?”

  “Not quite,” the spunky teen rang up her purchases quickly and efficiently, not making any further effort to carry on the conversation.

  “I guess you're not much of a talker.” Brynn pulled a wad of bills out of her pocket but didn’t hand any of them over.

  “Nope.” The girl looked pointedly at the money.

  “That's a shame because I'd really like to know what dirt you have on the Goods.”

  “Excuse me?” Riley blinked.

  “You hate the old woman for a reason.”

  “Yeah, and? So do you.” She smiled devilishly. “Of course, everybody knows your reason already.”

  “Yeah, I know. I'm the town whore. Can we get back to you?”

  Surprise glinted in Riley’s brown eyes for a nanosecond before she let out a small chuckle. “I like your attitude, no matter what anyone else 'round here says. You're pretty cool. Well, except for letting these idiots run you off. That was lame.”

  “Yeah, I've been told something similar.” Brynn forced the memory of Adam saying nearly the same thing out of her mind. “So how is it you know who I am from sight alone? You can't be old enough to have been in the know when I left here.”

  “People talk. They show pictures. It also doesn't hurt that the old biddies in here started whispering like crazy when you walked through the door. The thing about nearly deaf old women is they whisper really loud.”

  Brynn nodded her head in agreement as she forked over the money for her purchase. “So, Doris doesn't care much for you or your sister.”

  “I don't give a damn what she thinks about me or my sister. Rachel was one of the best people she ever knew, she's just too stupid to know it.” Riley’s statement came out venomous as she snatched the money, quickly making change.

  “Rachel?” Brynn recalled the name from her conversation with Chuck Davis and quickly tried to remember the girl's last name.

  Chuck had placed her name on the top of the list of Zeke-enemies he'd emailed her after their meeting at the bar. “Rachel Wood?”

  “Yeah,” Riley’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know her?”

  “Chuck Davis told me about her last night. He got into a fight with Zeke Good because of her. What do you mean she was one of the best people Doris ever knew?”

  “She's been gone for months now. Chuck should have told you that much.” Riley handed over the change, and crossed her arms over her meager chest.

  “Where'd she go?” Brynn pocketed the coins.

  “She was pregnant and didn't have any money. I don't think she went anywhere.”

  “Then what—”

  “I got customers to help, detective. If you figure out just what happened to my sister, you be sure and let me know.” She picked Brynn’s bagged purchases up from the counter and shoved them into her hands.

  Brynn grabbed the bag, and started to ask the girl just what she was suggesting, but decided against it as a blond woman with a smug grin strolled up to the counter. The woman tried not to look like she was snooping but failed miserably. The glare in Riley's eyes wasn't very encouraging either. Whatever the young girl thought had happened to her sister, she wasn't in the mood for sharing.

  Brynn stepped out of the store, turned right and walked the short distance to her old high school. A burnt circle of grass now adorned the middle of the football field. She stared at the field where Zeke Good's jersey had recently disintegrated and rehashed everything she'd just learned.

  Zeke Good had been having an affair with a young girl named Rachel Wood. Rachel Wood had gotten pregnant.

  Brynn curled her fingers through the chain link fence lining the side of the football field and rested her head against the warm metal.

  Doris Good despised the girl and, assumingly, knew she was pregnant with a child who just might have been Zeke's. Zeke was dead and Rachel was nowhere to be found.

  Brynn turned and walked to her parked car, wondering just how far Doris Good would go to protect her sons from women she considered unworthy, and how far a woman scorned would go to seek revenge.

  ~~~

  “Brynn? Hey, It's Adam.”

  Brynn cringed and nearly dropped her binoculars as the sound of Adam's voice traveled from her cell phone to her ear. “I know it’s you, Adam. What is it?”

  “Well, we're partners, aren't we? We haven't spoken this whole day. Shouldn't we be checking out some leads together?”

  Brynn glanced at the time on her car radio and sighed. She’d barely slept the night before, her day hadn’t started well and now after skipping dinner to trail a man well into the evening, she was tired and cranky. “I'm busy on another assignment right now. If anything momentous pops up in Zeke's case I'll let you know.”

  “Another assignment? What other assignment?”

  “I'm tracking a possibly cheating spouse for a suspicious wife, not that it's any of your concern.” She refocused her attention on the scene she’d been observing. A roomful of guys playing poker.

  “Oh, well that's great. My brother's killer is still out there and you're out snooping on people who have absolutely nothing to do with his murder or the arsons.”

  Brynn rolled her eyes, laid her binoculars on the car seat next to her and took a deep breath. “First of all, I'm a private detective. Catching cheating spouses is mainly what I do and what pays most of my bills. Second, I do have information in your brother's case, but you won't believe anything I say anyway because you're too busy protecting his memory, or your mother's memory of him or whatever.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the headrest. “I can't work with you when you're too busy working against me and, more importantly, against the truth.”

  There was a highly audible sigh on the other end of the phone, and Brynn knew she'd hit yet another one of the man's many exposed nerves.

  “I know he wasn't perfect. I know…something must have happened to make someone so angry. I know, all right? I know.” To her surprise there was no out lash, no sharp barbs or snide remarks about just how shoddy her own character was.

  She straightened back up, hope stirring to life. “So you'll work with me, not against me? Not instantly discredit everything you don't want to believe?”

  “Yes, Brynn. That's what I'm saying. I've thought about it and you're right. It's just so hard. I want to defend him.”

  Sadness tugged at her heart. It was good he was starting to see the truth, but the part of her that had done everything in its power to protect him wished he didn’t need to. “I know, it's human
nature to feel that way, which is exactly why, if this were Los Angeles, or anywhere else for that matter, you wouldn't be allowed near this case, but this is Black Bear Gorge and their way of handling things isn't the norm.”

  “It's weird hearing you say that.”

  “Say what?” She frowned.

  “Their way. Like you're not a part of this town where you grew up.”

  “I'm not.” She sighed, pain twisting her heart. “Your mother made that abundantly clear when I had the misfortune of running into her today.”

  “Tell me you're kidding.”

  “Nope.” She nearly laughed at the fear in his voice. “I'm sure you'll hear all about it.”

  “I'm sure I will too, and I'm sure whatever I'll hear will explain some of the looks I've gotten today.”

  “Nice to know I'm not the only one getting those lovely little looks.” Brynn saw movement in one of the windows of the red brick house she watched and scooped up her binoculars, remembering she was working a job—a paying job which would add more to her get-out-of-Black-Bear-Gorge fund.

  “I'm sorry, Brynn.”

  The words were spoken low, nearly a whisper. The apology sounded genuine, but Brynn refused to let herself believe it. Doing so would make it hurt that much more the next time he belittled her.

  “No, you're not. You think I'm getting exactly what I deserve.” She watched the men inside the small house continue their game, none of them doing anything particularly notable.

  “Nobody deserves a run-in with my mother.”

  Brynn laughed, unable to control herself. “Yeah, I guess that does qualify as cruel and unusual punishment.”

  “Pretty much.” There was a hint of amusement in his tone though the words had been spoken seriously. “So, who are you tailing?”

  “Why, Adam Good, are you becoming one of Black Bear Gorge's gossiping elite?”

  “Very funny.”

  “I think so, and I can't tell you.” She smiled, surprised by the friendly, easy tone of the conversation. “I have to protect my client’s privacy.”

  “Oh, please. Do you really think if the guy is cheating, half the town doesn't already know?”

  “I'm sure they do, but the little wifey doesn't and probably wouldn't appreciate me blabbing her business.”

  “I can help you get your proof and then we can focus on the arson case. You said you had information.”

  Brynn sighed deeply and weighed her options. Adam never had been a blabbermouth or a gossip, and he knew everybody. Plus she'd never cared much for long stakeouts. “My client is Nellie Barton.”

  “Bruce meets Dalia Smith at Tasty Burger every Tuesday night. You're not going to catch him doing anything tonight so let's meet up.”

  Brynn dropped the binoculars back on the car seat and started the ignition. “Fine. Where?”

  ~~~

  Twenty minutes later, Adam sat with Brynn in a secluded nook of Red’s Tavern, as far away from possible eavesdroppers as they could get. Adam read the names on the list Chuck Davis had emailed Brynn, straining to see them in the dim light of the bar, and shook his head. “My brother couldn't have possibly had this many enemies.”

  “Adam¾”

  “I'm not defending him or fighting against you.” He cut Brynn off, recognizing the exasperation in her tone. “I just don't see how anyone but a terrorist could have this many enemies.”

  “Yes, well, loverboy got around.” She took a sip of her Coke and nodded toward the paper before him. “Most of that list is comprised of lady friends, special emphasis on friends, and some of those lady friends' husbands.”

  “You think that could be it? He messed around with someone's wife and they killed him in a fit of jealousy?” He glanced toward the dance floor, noted at least three married men and two married women he knew dancing to the loud music with partners who weren’t their spouses. Maybe some jealous husband had come into the bar one night to spot Zeke dancing with his wife.

  “That would seem the most likely scenario if not for the arsons.” Brynn leaned back in her seat across the booth, one hand tapping against her glass. “Someone is trying to tell us something, and I don't think it's that their wife was a hussy.”

  Adam couldn't help but grin at Brynn's bluntness, a reminder of the bold tell-it-like-it-is girl he'd fallen head over heels for in his youth. “Well then, Miss P.I., what do you think he or she is trying to say?” He took a swig of beer from the bottle he’d ordered and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

  “If I knew that, I'd be one step closer to knowing who he or she is. Is there anything special about the eleventh? The second arson was on the eleventh and so was the murder.”

  “The fire on the football field was the thirteenth. I don't think the date had anything to do with it.”

  “Maybe.” Brynn's tone lacked conviction and although her gaze was directed to the table between them, Adam could tell there were ideas brewing behind those little green gems.

  “You know something. Spill.”

  She glanced up, opened her mouth but snapped it shut again as her gaze caught on something behind him. “You know what? We really should have done this over the phone.”

  Adam turned around, noting the pair of gawkers sitting at the bar across the room from them. “Those idiots doing something I should know about?” he asked, turning back toward Brynn.

  “Just the usual,” she answered with a humorless laugh. “Staring, whispering, pointing. It's a lot easier to ignore when you're walking down the street as opposed to just sitting in their line of sight like a, well, like a sitting duck.”

  “I'll take care of it.” Adam placed his hands on the table to extract himself from the booth they shared, but a small yet surprisingly strong hand gripped his wrist.

  “Don't you dare, Adam. You'll only make things worse.”

  He slid back onto the vinyl seat, noting how she scrunched down, like a small and bashful child desperate to stay out of the spotlight. It was a reaction he never thought he'd witness from the bold and sassy Brynn Harlow.

  “If it makes you feel any better, Brynn, they're talking about me, too, wondering if I'll make the same mist…” The words had slipped out before he'd had time to analyze what he was saying, or how badly it was going to sound when it came out. “I mean—”

  “Save it.” Brynn snatched her car keys off of the table and slid out of the booth. “Like I said, we should have done this over the phone.”

  “Brynn.” He shot out of the booth after her but her small frame allowed her to dart around the people filling the club better than he could. He couldn’t get close enough to grab her. “Brynn, wait!”

  The only response he received was a hard slam of the door as she left him in the bar.

  He heard a loud guffaw and turned his head to see the pair of gawkers, two of his high school classmates, laughing while staring straight at him. He’d just hurt Brynn’s feelings and felt like an ass. If the two fools hadn’t looked their way in the first place, shame wouldn’t be slamming him in the gut.

  “You think something’s funny?” His voice was low and menacing as he approached. The small brunette’s eyes widened but the man with her appeared too drunk to realize he was in danger.

  “Hell, yeah.” The stocky man, J.D. Philips, rested his bottle on the bar. “I thought it was funny the first time that slut—”

  Adam balled up his fist and knocked the man off the barstool.

  Chapter Seven

  “You're quitting?”

  “Yes, sir.” Brynn cringed under the chief’s hard glare but pressed on. Quitting was the coward’s way out but after tossing and turning another night, waking in the morning with tears on her cheeks remembering what Adam had said at the bar…she couldn’t continue working alongside him. Enough was enough. “I haven't been a part of this town for many years and everyone's right. I'm used to the city way of¾”

  “Bullshit!” Chief Parker brought his fists down on his desk with a loud bang.

&nbs
p; Brynn jumped at the angry tone exploding from him. The older man sat before her on the opposite side of the desk, his fists resting along the wooden surface. She gulped, a faint twinge of apprehension twisted her stomach as he leaned forward and pointed a finger at her.

  “That's bullshit, Brynn Harlow, and I won't sit here and let you serve it up, little miss. You understand that?”

  “Chief Parker, I'm not the person you need for this job.”

  “You're exactly the person I need for this job. One of them, anyway. You and Adam Good are both highly intelligent, capable detectives. You both know fire. You both have a lot of heart. You can do this, provided ya'll quit thinking with your asses.”

  She licked her lips, as butterflies flapped their wings inside her stomach. “Chief Parker¾”

  “Silence! I don't want to hear it. What's the matter with you anyway? You used to have a spine, dammit. You've finally come back home and instead of walking with your head held high like you should be, you're a cowering mess. If your daddy were alive today…” He trailed off and reached inside a desk drawer to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

  “I swear I've smoked more of these since you came back home. I'm supposed to be cutting back, dammit. You and Adam are stressing me out.” He pulled one of the cigarettes free and slammed the rest of the pack down.

  Brynn felt her jaw go slack as she sat still, blinking at the man before her, not sure what to say. On one hand, he was not speaking to her in a professional manner and she had every right to call him on it and tell him what to do with himself.

  On the other hand, he had been one of her father's closest friends and had known her since she was in diapers. It put her in an awkward spot.

  “Well? Are you just going to sit there all fish-faced or are you going to go out and catch me an arsonist?” Chief Parker tapped the cigarette on his desk, his mouth compressed into a tight frown.

  Brynn closed her eyes, and her mouth, feeling slightly embarrassed to have been caught gawking like a fool, and tried to summon the calm she needed. “Chief Parker, I realize you've known me my whole life but I am an adult woman now and would appreciate being treated like one—”