Читать книгу A Firefighter in the Family - Trish Milburn - Страница 9

Zac huffed and turned away as he shoved individual wine bottles into a glass-fronted cooler to chill.

“You don’t seem to like me very much anymore,” Randi said, trying to sound as if she didn’t care one way or the other.

“I’m busy. I have a business to run.”

“Yeah, about that—what’s with the whole bartender shtick?” Not that he didn’t look yummier than any cold, fruity drink he could serve up.

Randi leaned one arm against the edge of the bar and stared at Zac’s back, a very nice, muscled back from what she remembered, and his tanned forearms. When he glanced to the side, she eyed his profile. Short, dark hair. Strong jawline. Stubborn. Why, of all the people in Horizon Beach, had she crossed paths with Zac Parker? And why did the mere sight of him still make her pulse race as if it were trying to break free of her veins?

A blonde in a pink bikini with a flowered wrap around her hips wandered up to the bar and asked for two beers. Randi waited while Zac turned, pulled the bottles from the cooler and took the girl’s money. He didn’t ogle the eye candy, and Randi was annoyed by how much that pleased her. Which made no sense, considering the circumstances the last time they’d seen each other.

He looked up, his expression casual. “You’re still here?”

“Let’s leave past animosity in the past, shall we?” She was here in her professional capacity, and what they’d once meant to each other wasn’t relevant to the task at hand.

“Fine.” He bit out the word as if it was anything but fine. As if to contradict his tone, he placed a lemonade in front of her. He glanced up, caught her gaze for a moment before breaking eye contact. “I have a good memory.”

She didn’t let it show, but she was shocked he’d remembered.

Zac leaned against a metal cooler and crossed his arms.

Why was he so hostile? She was the one with that right, not him. “I have to investigate every angle. You know that.”

“Dig to my birth certificate if it makes you happy, but don’t jump to conclusions before you know what you’re talking about,” he said.

Those words sliced at her. She didn’t rush headlong into things anymore. She’d learned her painful lesson.

“Nice to see you’ve matured since I saw you last.” She couldn’t help it. The bitterness just tumbled out. Better to sound bitter than brokenhearted, though.

Four lobster-human hybrids stepped into the bar and eased their sunburned selves into the chairs surrounding a nearby table. A surfer type approached the opposite end of the long bar, and Zac moved away without another word or glance in her direction.

Fine. She knew where to find him.

She noticed his liquor license on the wall. Why on earth was he tending bar instead of fighting fires? Oldham would have her believe Zac had started setting them instead. But no matter how much he’d hurt her, she couldn’t picture him as an arsonist.

Zac’s deep voice drew her attention. He was even sexier than she remembered—and what she’d remembered had been plenty sexy. Alone in her mind, she could admit she was still attracted to him, even if she couldn’t forgive him.

ZAC WATCHED Randi Cooke retrace her steps toward the burned-out condos, her wake sucking him back almost three years.

“Dude, you’re about to pop a blood vessel.”

Zac redirected his gaze to find Adam had sauntered back to the bar and was tapping his temple. “I’m fine.”

“Then I’d hate to see a man on the verge of a stroke.”

Zac turned to throw some empty cartons in the trash so he wouldn’t bite off Adam’s head. His friend had been a beach staple for barely two years, hadn’t been there when all hell broke loose in Zac’s life.

Adam took a drink of his beer as he watched Randi disappear over the dunes. “What’s the story with the babe?”

“No story.”

“Right.”

“We went out a few times, that’s all.” He wasn’t willing to recount all the details, but he’d give Adam enough to get him off his case.

“So, how bad was your argument with Oldham?” Adam asked.

“If you’re going to play cop, you can just go back to the pier.”

Adam raised his hands. “Chill. I’m on your side.”

Zac braced his palms against the top of the cooler. “Sorry. She just raised my hackles.”

Adam nodded but looked like he suspected there was more behind Zac’s reaction. “Understandable. Having the ex interrogate you—not exactly what you expected when you got up this morning.”

Actually, when he’d arrived at work and seen the devastation next door, he’d imagined such an encounter. But he’d figured on one of Randi’s brothers doing the interrogation. He wasn’t sure that wouldn’t have been better. At least he didn’t have any guilt wrapped up in his feelings toward them.

“Anything you want to share in case your Nancy Drew shows up at the pier asking questions?”

Zac shook his head. “There’s nothing to know. Oldham wanted to buy me out, I said no, that was the end of it.”

Adam stared at him for a moment, as if maybe he didn’t believe him. Well, that was Adam’s problem, not his. He was damned tired of explaining himself, especially to people who were supposed to be his friends.

RANDI WALKED out of her hotel room’s bathroom toweling the excess water from her long hair. After a full day of sniffing rubble and accompanying her while she interviewed witnesses, Thor lay stretched out on one of the beds watching the Eukanuba Dog Show on Animal Planet.

“Checking out the babes, huh?”

Thor licked his chops as a female husky strutted her stuff.

“You’re so predictable. It’s always the blue-eyed girls.”

Randi slipped into white cargo pants and an orange tee, thankful to be out of smoky clothes. She propped her pillows behind her against the headboard and pulled out her case notebook.

She scanned through the list of names and didn’t scratch any off, not even eighty-year-old Penelope “Busybody” Jones. Randi couldn’t imagine the woman who looked like Barbara Bush’s twin doddering across Sea Oat Road with a can of gasoline and a box of matches in the middle of the night, but she’d seen stranger things happen.

She leaned back and thought about Zac’s reaction to her questioning. Red-flag city. Her eyes drifted closed as she pictured his tight facial expressions, his tense body language. His finely toned body. She swallowed.

Even though his status as a potential suspect gave her the distance she needed from him, she couldn’t believe he was really guilty. But he didn’t have to know that. The mere thought of someone she’d once cared about, a fellow firefighter, being the culprit sickened her. But he wasn’t a firefighter anymore, was he? Why? After all, he’d once sacrificed friendship and the possibility of something more for the job.

Her cell phone rang, and she answered while making notes for the next morning’s itinerary.

“How’d it go today?” Steve asked.

Did her boss ever take a day off? “I should be asking you the same question. How’s the happy couple?”

“On their way to Cozumel. What have you found out?”

Randy shook her head. If there was one thing that could be said for Steve Preston, it was that he was dedicated to the job. If the entire state of Florida caught fire simultaneously, he’d find a way to have a working knowledge of every single case to which his investigators were assigned.

“Thor’s keeping his reputation intact. I sent a sample off to the lab, but it smelled like gasoline.”

“Suspects?”

“Well, the consensus is that the builder is a jerk and the condo project unpopular. The suspect list is turning into a cast of thousands.”

As soon as she hung up a few minutes later, her cell rang again. “Hello?”

“Hey, sis. Where ya staying?” Eric asked.

“The Coral Inn on Gulf.”

“I see the state is putting you up in the fancy places.”

“Ha-ha.” How good it felt to talk to him. The full impact of how much she missed him and the rest of her family made her suck in a shaky breath.

“Want some dinner?”

“You buying?”

“You’re the one with the cushy state job.”

Randi rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m making so much money I don’t know what to do with it all.”

“Okay, I’ll spring. Pick you up in ten.”

Randi slipped on a pair of white canvas mules, an oddity in her collection of dirty boots and athletic shoes. Even her running shoes were scuffed and smelly from her morning jogs.

When Eric pulled into the parking lot, Thor leaped into the bed of the black Dodge Ram without being told. Randi slid into the passenger seat.

“Hey, you clean up decent,” Eric said.

Randi sniffed the air. “You, too. I don’t smell you quite so much anymore.”

Eric punched her lightly in the arm, like he’d done as a kid. It caused a pang in her chest, and she wished things were that simple and carefree again.

“So, where we going?”

Eric didn’t answer, but he turned east, away from most of the town’s restaurants. Toward home.

Anger and anxiety made her muscles tighten. She stared hard at Eric’s profile, but he refused to look her way. “Damn it. You ambushed me.”

“Come on,” he pleaded. “It’s not like I’m dragging you to prison or the gates of hell.”

“No, just the land of thinly veiled hostility.”

“It’s not that bad, and you know it.”

“I don’t know it. You just refuse to see what’s right in front of your nose. Now turn around.”

“No.”

Randi looked at her brother in stunned surprise.

“Carol will have my hide,” Eric said, sheepish.

If there existed someone more determined than Eric to rebuild the burned bridges in the Cooke family, it was her sister-in-law Carol, Will’s wife. The irony never failed to strike Randi. If Will was strong and determined and sometimes bullheaded, Carol was every bit his equal but somehow managed to be a sweet person at the same time.

“That’s freaking fantastic.” Randi crossed her arms and watched the shops of downtown Horizon Beach zip by as Eric drove toward their parents’ house on the outskirts of town. She hated having control of a situation taken from her.

“Give it a rest. You’re here at Thanksgiving and Christmas. What difference does the day make?”

“I have time to prepare for the holidays.”

“So now you have to ‘prepare’ to see your family?”

“When half that family still holds a grudge against me, yes.” Not that there wasn’t cause. Still, it hurt.

“Randi, it’s time to move on.”

She turned toward her brother and pierced him with the stare that put fear into the hearts of otherwise heartless arsonists. “Did you happen to hear Will this morning? Did you notice I wasn’t exactly the person he most wanted to see?”

“He was tired. We were up all night.”

“Fatigue doesn’t put that look in a man’s eyes.”

Eric didn’t argue further, and Randi was sorry. She needed the outlet to vent steam. Honestly, she’d love to reconnect with her family, to experience the intense love and camaraderie they’d once enjoyed. But no longer could she hang out with her brothers and father and talk shop. It hurt that they didn’t seem to want to, either, but she couldn’t blame them.

When Eric parked in front of their parents’ two-story on Sand Dune Drive, Randi let out a long, anxiety-filled breath. The number of vehicles in the driveway and on the side of the street struck her as odd. “Why is everyone here?”

“It’s an engagement party. Karl finally asked Shellie.”

Despite her roiling emotions, Randi smiled. At least she was home for a happy occasion. Hopefully, everyone would be in a good mood. “It’s about time. So, that leaves you as the sole Cooke bachelor, huh?”

He smiled, looking relieved as the tenseness in his body eased. “Unless we count you.”

“We don’t, seeing as how I don’t even have time to date.”

“Hon, there’s always time to date.”

She thought of a romantic dinner on the beach, the sound of the waves and soft music mingling. Zac Parker appeared in her daydream.

Good grief, she must be rattled if she was fantasizing about the man who’d crushed her heart when she was already hurting. She needed a good, stiff drink and about a month in the Bahamas after this job.

She started to ask Eric about when Zac had left the department and why but decided she didn’t even want to utter his name and add to her current discomfort. Plus, she was itching to see Karl so she could offer a good-natured “I told you so.” She hoped he’d set aside the past for at least tonight, long enough to accept the sisterly barb.

Thor jumped out of the truck and padded after her.

“Stay,” she said when they stepped onto the porch.

He whined then plopped down on the porch and laid his muzzle on his outstretched paws.

“Trust me, boy, I’d rather stay out here with you.”

Randi trailed Eric as they passed through the empty living room and followed the sound of loud Cooke voices coming from the back of the house. When they reached the kitchen, their mother looked up from frosting a cake. Inga’s eyes widened. She set down the frosting and came over to hug Randi.

“Honey, what a nice surprise.”

Randi hated how she dissected her mother’s words for any hint of falseness.

Inga pulled away and wiped back a strand of her hair, still its Norwegian white-blond even at age sixty.

Carol stepped into the kitchen from the deck. In a house full of blond, blue-eyed Cookes, the petite brunette stood out.

“I’m so glad you came,” Carol said. She didn’t pause before crossing the room to give Randi an enthusiastic hug. Having such a true-blue ally felt good, even when Randi herself didn’t believe she deserved it.

Randi wondered if she would have been invited to this gathering had she not already been in town. The pang in her chest caused her to bite down on her bottom lip. She’d gotten on with her life after leaving Horizon Beach, but the passage of nearly three years had done nothing to ease the pain of her loss.

“So, when did Karl pop the big question?” she asked Carol, determined to get through the night without falling apart.

“Yesterday.”

“This is one quick party.”

“We wanted to cement the deal before Karl had second thoughts.” Inga laughed, well aware of her third son’s ability to slide out of things as if he were doused in oil.

“Good point.”

Carol snaked her arm through Randi’s. “Come on outside.”

Randi balked. “I think I’ll stay in here for a bit.”

“Nonsense. Karl and Shellie are out there taking a lot of ribbing. You don’t want to miss this.”

“I’ll—”

“You never win an argument with me, so quit trying.” She leaned close to Randi’s ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Randi had to laugh. At five foot two, Carol stood a full seven inches shorter than her and didn’t have near the muscle tone. Somehow, chasing a two-year-old around didn’t quite build the body the same way five-mile runs and swimming did. Still, Carol Cooke wasn’t someone ever bested in an argument.

Despite the tightening in her gut, Randi allowed her sister-in-law to lead her onto the deck filled with the scents of grilling shrimp and steaks and the sounds of her family.

The scene unfolded as if from one of those Matrix movies where everyone stops in midmotion. If she were lucky, she’d disappear before they remembered to move. She glanced over and saw her father, a once big and towering man, sitting in his wheelchair.

The wheelchair she’d put him in.